Priest, Parish, and People: Saving the Faith in Philadelphia's Italy. By Richard N. Juliani. (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press. 2007. Pp. xu, 396. $35.00 paperback.) The beginning of Richard Juliani's latest work overlaps the end of his earlier Building Little Italy: Philadelphia's Italians before Mass Migration (1998), and brings the story forward into the twentieth century. But it is so much more. As we have come to expect from Juliani, a sociologist, his work is exhaustively researched in the best historical and sociological traditions. In addition to the conventional Census, Immigration and Naturalization Services, and newspaper sources, the author brings to our attention some very unique, and heretofore untapped, materials. These include the more than 20,000 pages of handwritten sermons, letters, poems, plays, and other notes of the pastor of the first Italian-nationality parish in the United States. Juliani tells us convincingly that, to fully understand the phenomenon which is, above all else, the central experience of America-immigration/assimilationwe cannot, and should not, separate biographical, institutional, and sociocultural realities. These realities he illustrates for us in the Little Italy section of Philadelphia by interweaving the histories of a priest, a parish, and a people. At the center of this intersection is Father Antonio Isoleri, pastor of Saint Mary Magdalen dei Pazzi Church in Philadelphia's Little Italy from 1870 until 1926. Rarely do we get the opportunity to delve into the life of an ordinary individual such as this. The voluminous writings of this priest, unearthed by Juliani in the 1980s, provide us with a unique window on a subject often viewed through the lens of official quantitative records. The Grand Old Man of Little Italy, as he known in his waning years, is portrayed through these manuscripts as combative ... proud, intellectual, creative, and deeply spiritual. Juliani reveals that he could be arbitrary, inconsistent, and imperious, to the extent that he stirred the anger of anticlerical Socialists and Anarchists, who may have even plotted his assassination, but also drove nuns and fellow priests to contemplate doing him grievous harm. And here no Bird of Passage. Isoleri said good-bye to his home and family at the age of twenty-four and never saw them again. Passionately devoted to his homeland then being torn between creating a nation and loyalty to the papacy, he courageously put aside his personal feelings to shepherd his people, in his American parish, as they suffered similar anguish both personal and national. Despite his publicly expressed preference for national, rather than regional goals, Isoleri showed himself in many actions to be thoroughly Northern in his thinking. Even though, in chapter 7, Juliani notes that Isoleri was not dismayed by an influx of more Italians, even from Southern Italy, subsequent chapters chronicle his struggles to accommodate people, albeit Italian, he considered strange. Isoleri tried his best to be a mediator for his people at three levels. He saw himself as a bridge between traditional popular devotions brought from the Old World and newer forms favored by church authorities. He fought to better the physical conditions of the immigrants by attacking the exploitation of their children by padrone masters. And he worked constantly to convince his people that there no essential irreconcilability between being a good Catholic and being a good nationalist. The intersection of the biographical, institutional, and sociocultural is perhaps seen most concretely in what Juliani calls the Pastor's Dilemma, which paralleled and intersected with the Italian Problem. …