Paperbacks: The Whole Equation<br/>The Prester Quest<br/>The Racing Tribe<br/>The Dangerous Edge of Things<br/>The Man Called Cash<br/>The Book of Daniel<br/>Brazil Red

The Whole Equation, by David Thomson (ABACUS £9.99 (433pp))

An absorbing, intelligent and passionate history of Hollywood, this is also an account of a critic falling out of love. In a prefatory chapter, Thomson describes the book as a "lament", citing the example of screenwriting nonpareil Robert Towne, who once won an Oscar for writing Chinatown but recently "made a small fortune for writing two Mission Impossible films". Thomson offers an explanation in an aside: "Nothing saps real work, good ambition and art in Hollywood as much as success - and its money habit." Money is the dominant theme of Thomson's book, but he also offers sharp insights into the changing nature of American film. Discussing the rebellion of filmmakers in Hollywood's Golden Age - how they subverted the "polite, cheery strictures forced on them" with "anger, black humour, violence or outrage" - Thomson writes: "The most shocking thing about films made today is how that pulse is gone." Recognising the asinine view of America that Hollywood now shows to the world, Thomson, the great film-lover, concludes by describing the "turning point" he experienced on a flight. He was asked to shut out his exhilarating view of "columns of cloud and lacework of ice" so that his fellow-passengers could watch "some terrible contemporary movie". CH

The Prester Quest, by Nicholas Jubber (BANTAM £7.99 (560pp))

For allure and mystery, few historical names compare to Prester John, the legendary priest-king of the Indies whose abilities included stopping the flow of the Nile and observing distant enemies through a magic mirror. Jubber, a gung-ho sort of chap, decided to re-enact the mission of the emissary sent by Pope Alexander III to Prester John in 1177, though with one difference. He did not intend to disappear without trace. In keeping with Patrick Leigh Fermor and Bruce Chatwin, Jubber's yarn is an engaging mix of recondite learning, boisterousness and bathos. CH

The Racing Tribe, by Kate Fox (METRO £7.99 (223pp))

The social anthropologist Kate Fox explains that horseracing reflects Britain by attracting "equal numbers of socioeconomic groups AB, C1, C2 and DE". Fortunately, this is a rare outbreak of jargon in her human and humorous report. Noting that "most people are happy to talk to a harmless-looking girl in a pink hat", Fox researches racing dialect, the beneficial effect of Frankie Dettori on owners and "the 'What does she think she looks like?' ritual" among female racegoers. Generously, she says John McCririck is "pleasant", though his telephone manner - "Have your tits grown at all?" - suggests otherwise. CH

The Dangerous Edge of Things, by Candida Lycett Green (BLACK SWAN £8.99 (352pp))

In luminous prose, the author describes a single year of her childhood in Farnborough. Her father, John Betjeman, is a bit player in this account of rural life in 1949, so vivid that you can almost smell the changing seasons. Instead, we spy on the budding relationship, concocted by Candida and her friends, between beautiful new arrival Ruby and Dr Fox, the shy scientist whose cottage she cleans. The film-obsessed children see everything in Hollywood terms, but the truth turns out to be as astonishing as anything shown at the local cinema. CH

The Man Called Cash, by Steve Turner (BLOOMSBURY £8.99 (363pp))

The titan of country music is a biographer's dream. Turner covers the violent oscillations of Johnny Cash's life, but we don't get much insight into the complexities of this troubled giant. The sermon-like account of Cash "receiving the call" at the age of 12 is the first of numerous intrusive authorial references to Christianity. In the final chapter, Turner inserts chunks from St Paul, as if his aim is to convert rather than inform the reader. One's doubts are increased by Turner's view of Dylan's Blonde on Blonde as "wild, drug-warped electric blues" - and his misspelling of "Keith Richards". CH

The Book of Daniel, by E L Doctorow (PENGUIN £9.99 (368pp))

Inspired by the true-life tale of the Rosenbergs, the only US civilians to be executed for spying, this novel hurled its author into the front ranks of American fiction. First published in 1971 and now reissued with an introduction by Jonathan Freedland, it is, in fact, a dazzling example of that rare beast: a political novel that is profoundly moving and utterly, brilliantly, engaging. CP

Brazil Red, by Jean-Christophe Rufin (PICADOR £7.99 (429pp))

How does Dr Rufin do it? Medic, founder of MSF, adviser on aid to the French state, he doubles (or trebles?) as a fêted novelist. A storming swashbuckler, this Prix Goncourt-winning adventure revisits the ill-fated French attempt to take Brazil in the 1550s. As thoughtful as it's colourful, Brazil Red boasts romantic intrigue, bloody derring-do - and a rich vein of debate on colonies and conquest. The style of a Dumas mingles (irresistibly) with the outlook of a Bob Geldof. BT