Viewed as pejorative by the very folk it denotes, the term ``mole people'' describes those who live in the tunnels under Manhattan's Grand Central Station, Penn Station, Port Authority and Riverside Park. This book grows out of an article that Toth, now a reporter for the Raleigh, N.C., News & Observer , wrote in 1990 for the Los Angeles Times detailing the chilling plight of the moles. According to Lieutenant John Romero of the New York City Transit Police, ``95% are males between twenty and forty-five years old. At least 80% are mentally ill or chemically dependent.'' We learn that the life expectancy for homeless men is 45 years; most tunnel people (an estimated 5000) come from families that are frequently torn apart by drugs and violence. But what makes this book so troubling and memorable are Toth's profiles of the tunnel people: Mac, a white man in his early 50s, who hunts rats--``track rabbits''--which he cooks while reciting Thoreau; eight-year-old Julie, a Haitian who attends school, says, ``Everything I wish for I'm going to have, because I've been such a good girl;'' and Brenda, a Dartmouth dropout, who poetically laments, ``I love the loneliness of the tunnels. It's like a hug with nothing to hold you.'' A disturbing read that offers little hope of a better life for the tunnel people. Photos not seen by PW. (Oct.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

Toth did not want to call the residents of the tunnels underneath New York City mole people. But as she continued her investigation, she learned it was what they wanted to be called. Her book about them amounts to a study of the houseless (they don't want to be known as the homeless, either), who live essentially in the subways. While she always remained an outsider, the mole people gradually told her about themselves. Besides the overwhelming presence of AIDS, crack, death, and violence among them, they also have a sense of family and community. They frequently elect "mayors" and "spokesmen" to address their concerns, and their encounters with police and philanthropic organizations are often surprising. The statements Toth extracted from them are reason enough to recommend the book; for start~ling example, the credo of a guy named Bob: "Do what you have to do today. Tomorrow will come. And if it doesn't, you won't have to deal with it." ~--Aaron Cohen

``Mole people'' are the thousands of homeless people who live in the subway, railroad, and sewage tunnels of New York City. Drawing on her interviews with these tunnel dwellers, who speak candidly and demonstrate their humanness, journalist Toth pulls the reader into this nether world, revealing lives of addiction and abuse. She also portrays people who try to help, including a woman who teaches the children and a kind man known as the mayor who does all he can to help others survive. In providing a historical backround, Toth informs the reader that living underground was not always considered ``inhuman.'' Highly recommended for public and academic libraries.-- Kevin Whalen, Montville Township P.L., N.J. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

There is, says Raleigh News & Observer staffer Toth, a city below New York City: a fantastic underworld of men, women, and children who are born, live, and die in the darkness beneath the streets. In the early 90's, the author, then a Los Angeles Times intern, spent a year exploring that nether world, preparing this startling report. Toth first heard about ``the mole people'' from a child who claimed that her classmate lived underground; further research brought the author into contact with Sgt. Bryan Henry, a Grand Central Station cop who introduced her to one ``J.C.'' (most of Toth's homeless use pseudonyms), the ``self-described'' spokesman for an underground community of 200--a large but not unprecedented number for one of the dozens of camps, gangs, and roving bands that Toth found in the tunnels. These tunnels--including gas and sewer lines as well as abandoned subway tunnels and stations--honeycomb the city's foundation, descending to seven levels and housing perhaps 5,000 lost souls. To the uninitiated and, at first, to Toth, the tunnels are terrifying: She walks them both guided and alone, aware of forms flitting past, of rats and madmen. She visits camps whose members stay below for weeks at a time; she watches a ``filthy and bearded'' loner skewer and roast a ``track rabbit''--a rat; she talks to graffiti artists, women, teenagers, and a kill- for-hire gang whose services cost $20. Pausing in her chronicle, she surveys underground life in history and literature, from Egyptian slaves living in mines to Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man. Finally, Toth flees the city's depths, her life threatened by a mole man who thinks her a police informer. The life expectancy of the average mole person, stricken by drugs and disease, is under five years. Toth's unusual sociological adventure story, then, is as saddening as it is gripping.