Prepared for My Shut-Up, by David M. Lubin (Grand Central). Within the late nineteen-forties, Hollywood was in transition: the blacklist was demolishing careers, the studio system was imploding, and tv was emptying film theatres. The noir movie “Sundown Boulevard,” which got here out in 1950, mirrored this destabilization. The movie focusses on two Hollywood castoffs: an ageing former star and a floundering screenwriter who turns into her stored man. This scrupulous account of the making of the movie—initially conceived as a comedy starring Mae West—traces the way it turned “a historical past of Hollywood” that mocked “a whole business on the sting of collapse or reinvention, relying on whom you requested.”
The Everlasting Forest, by Elena Sheppard (St. Martin’s). On Christmas Eve in 1960, a lady named Rosita fled Castro’s revolution in Cuba, boarding a flight along with her two daughters to what she assumed can be short-term exile in Miami. She lived for one more sixty years, however by no means returned to the island. On this artfully rendered memoir, Sheppard, Rosita’s U.S.-born granddaughter, flits forwards and backwards between the centuries, weaving Cuban historical past along with familial lore. She seeks to articulate her inherited sense of dislocation whereas grappling brazenly with the challenges of narrating a loss that was by no means fully hers. “I’ve tried and failed at feeling what it was like to depart,” she writes.


