Kenneth L. Campbell's 3 favorite reads in 2025

• 2023
• 2024
• 2025

This sweeping yet deeply readable book offers a wonderful blend of political, military, social, cultural, and intellectual history. My biggest takeaway was Evans’s argument that democracy and democratic institutions contained within them the seeds of their own destruction—an idea that foreshadows the rise of fascism and, unfortunately, resonates again in our own century. Coming from Evans, whose earlier work focused on the Third Reich, that perspective is especially revealing. Alongside the big themes, I found countless fascinating details I hadn’t known: that Lord Acton’s famous line about power corrupting referred to the papacy; that dueling in late nineteenth-century Germany became largely a middle-class affair; and that the average temperature in one early industrial spinning factory exceeded eighty degrees. Evans consistently moves beyond generalizations to show how social change unfolded in lived experience. Even after reading numerous accounts of the July Crisis of 1914, I found new insights in his analysis—especially his case that Germany did not actively seek war and that Austria’s delay in delivering its ultimatum to Serbia made it appear more provocative than it truly was. This is history written on a grand scale but grounded in human detail.

This was one of those books I simply couldn’t put down. It brought me back to a transformative time in my life, growing up with those great Orioles teams, but it’s much more than nostalgia. Miller paints a smart, layered portrait that goes well beyond the caricature of Earl Weaver as the tempestuous little guy kicking dirt on umpires. He lets a chorus of voices shine through—former players (including Black Orioles stars who respected Weaver deeply), family members, umpires, and even modern managers reflecting on his influence. The statistics are used to enrich the story, not dominate it, reinforcing Weaver’s brilliance as one of the game’s sharpest minds. I was struck by how young Weaver was when he took over and how his failure to reach the majors as a player shaped his relentless drive to win. It’s also a loving portrait of Memorial Stadium and the Baltimore fan base that surrounded it. Miller gives us Weaver whole—brilliant, flawed, funny, and self-aware—with unexpected lessons about leadership, forgiveness, and not holding grudges. And yes, there are laughs too: Boog Powell’s line about the rats at Memorial Stadium is worth the price of the book alone.

I loved this book because it captures not only the making of a classic film but the cultural moment that gave rise to it. Stratton gives readers all the behind-the-scenes detail they could want—the grueling conditions, the colorful cast of characters, and the creative chaos surrounding Sam Peckinpah—while situating the film within the broader transformation of Hollywood and American society in the late 1960s. I had no idea what a daredevil William Holden was, or how many near-suicidal stunts he pulled in real life, and those stories alone are worth reading. But what makes the book unforgettable is the way it mirrors the period’s turbulence and rebellion: Peckinpah’s fight with the old studio system feels like a metaphor for the cultural upheavals reshaping the country. It’s also beautifully researched and written, equally rewarding for film buffs, historians, or anyone fascinated by art and defiance. I’d recommend reading the first half before watching (or re-watching) the film, then finishing the book afterward—a completely immersive experience.