"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened
and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you
and afterwards it all belongs to you; the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse,
and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was."
Ernest Hemingway
Showing posts with label Civil War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Civil War. Show all posts

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Rejected Princesses: Tales of History's Boldest Heroines, Hellions, and Heretics

Dey St.
Rejected Princesses:  Tales of History's Boldest Heroines, Hellions, and Heretics
Jason Porath
2016

The Summary
"Well-behaved women seldom make history...and these women are far from well behaved.

"Let's face it:  the list of historical women we learn about in school is lacking.  It's safe, it's censored, it's short.  And even when we learn about a true legend--say, Harriet Tubman--we get half the story (and it's usually not the half about her as a plantation-torching Union spy-master).  This is just the list of women we know about.  What of the women we don't?

"In place of complex, real-life heroines, we get sparkly, doe-eyed animated damsels who dominate children's minds everywhere.

"Rejected Princesses is here to provide an alternative to all that.

"In this fully illustrated, deeply researched, and totally entertaining collection, Jason Porath offers 100 women too uncompromising, too untoward, or too uncomfortable to fit the modern princess mold.  Gathering together a diverse set of some famous, some infamous, some forgotten, and some virtually unknown figures from history and myth, from all over the globe, this book presents the female role models we never knew we needed.  Yes, there are a few princesses, but there are also pirates, spies, journalists, activists, concubines, empresses, ninjas, pilots, samurais, mathematicians, sword-slingers, and war-lords too.

"These women were rebels and rulers, pioneers in their fields, and fighters for their causes (and sometimes for themselves).  In a time when women are still pushing for equal pay and equal opportunity, shouldn't we be putting brave women like Sybil Luddington, Hatshepshut, Nzinga Mbande, Josephine Baker, Khutulun, Rani Lakshimbai, Harriet Tubman, Emmeline Parkhurst, and Joan of Arc on equal footing with Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty?

"Women have always played a key, kick-ass role in revolutionizing our world.  The girls of today are the latest links in a long chain of geniuses, warriors, and fearless women.  It is the birthright of every woman to have a connection to that history.  Empowering, uproarious, and anything but traditional, Rejected Princesses seeks to provide just that."

The Good
I loved this book.

Yes, loved.

If it's not already apparent, I'm a bit of a history nerd and I love learning about quirky, unconventional history and feisty females who made their mark on history (see:  Bad Girls), so Rejected Princesses was the best of both worlds for me.

I imagine that many of the women featured in this book were too rebellious, too dangerous and, sometimes, too deadly to make it into high school textbooks; in fact, many of the women--whether resigned to the darkest parts of history or lingering at the edges of myth--were a pleasant surprise.  That is, I'd never read about them and I loved learning about them and the impact they made on history.

Here are some of my favorites:
  • Khutulun
  • Noor Inayat Khan
  • Julie d'Aubigny
  • Annie Jump Cannon
  • Iara
  • Mariya Oktyabrskaya
  • Olga of Kiev
  • Ching Shih
  • Sybil Luddington
  • Alfhild
  • Mary Bowser
  • Nanny of the Maroons
  • Tomo Gozen
  • Marjana
All of these women were incredible.  I mean, on this list alone you have fighters and warriors, spies and astronomers, pirates and Vikings, rebels and freedom fighters.  They're incredible.  Granted, I know some of them didn't exist (Marjana is a literary character, whereas Iara and, I think, Alfhild are myths and/or legends), but it was wonderful getting a glimpse into these individual cultures and their perceptions of women--and how these women flaunted conventions.

It was great.

And, of course, I can't forget the Night Witches from my list.  You can hear about me rhapsodize about the Night Witches here, so I won't go into much detail about them, except to say that they are without a doubt the most incredible pilots of World War II (I'm not joking) and, perhaps, some of the most incredible women about which I've had the pleasure to learn.

Overall, Rejected Princesses is a wonderful book.  Full of humor, colorful art, historical facts and, of course, incredible women, it's a great resource for those who wish to dabble in history--and it will show you just what it means to fight like a girl.


The Bad
No complaints.

I seriously want a copy for myself.

The Ugly
History is not always pretty--and, let's be honest here, it hasn't always been kind to women.  Some were burned at the stake because they were different; others were buried alive or faced a firing squad; some were even assassinated for their own violent reactions to society.  Not all these ladies had the luxury to happily retire.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Read Harder Challenge (Part Four)

I have three more books to add to my list for the Read Harder Challenge:
  1. Read a nonfiction book about science.
  2. Read a book originally published in the decade you were born.
  3. Read a book with a main character that has a mental illness.
First on my list is How to Read the Solar System:  A Guide to the Stars and Planets by Chris North and Paul Abel, who host The Sky at Night on BBC.  I'm actually really glad I finished this book, because it offered me insight into the solar system that I certainly didn't have prior to reading North and Abel's book.  While it is a bit dry and quite dense, I should point out that How to Read the Solar System is not a bad book.

22488004
Pegasus Books
I mean, I was sometimes very bored when the authors went into great detail about indicating how amateur astronomers should find a specific location in space--like how to find a particular moon by Jupiter, or which filter to use use in order to observe the sun (helpful, if I understood where one might find such filters.  Or if my telescope worked properly), or pinpointing the exact degree to which one might adjust a telescope to find Venus--and I found myself losing interest.  Quickly.

I'm not saying it wasn't a good book.  I learned something interesting about each of the planets and the different heavenly bodies that inhabit space, which was an important aspect of reading this book.  For instance, I learned that Io, one of Jupiter's dozens of moons, has tectonic activity (specifically cryovolcanic activity, since it's an icy wasteland); sound waves travel faster through plasma, which gives scientists the opportunity to measure the internal activity of the sun (since it's made up of plasma); and meteor showers are essentially the debris left behind by comets, like a dust storm that the Earth passes through during its orbit.

I enjoyed actually learning something new, even if it's not quite as useful as one might hope.  Like I said, it's not a bad book.  Just a little dry and dense and, dare I say it, pedantic.  It's not something I would read twice, but it's a vast well of information that's sure to hold appeal for readers who greatly enjoy science, astronomy, technology, and even mathematics.  It's definitely worth checking out, especially if you're curious about the solar system and the explorations humankind has made.  More importantly, it gets a point in my book for having an index, so I was able to easily look up the most intriguing bits of information.

Next, I looked at The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester, which was more in line with my purview.  Titled The Surgeon of Crowthorne when it was originally published in Britain, Winchester's book underwent a slight change when it migrated over to the United States, becoming The Professor and the Madman--which was accompanied by the glorious subtitle, A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary.  I mean, how could I not be the tiniest bit enticed?

25019
HarperPerenial
The Professor and the Madman is a story about the formation of the Oxford English Dictionary (OED), specifically one of the most prolific contributors in its history:  Dr. William Minor.  Minor was an American surgeon during the Civil War, who was eventually convicted of murder and put into a sanitarium; however, during his stint at Broadmoor Criminal Lunatic Asylum, he stumbled across a call for contributors to the dictionary.  Contacting Professor James Murray, who oversaw the entire project, he began to offer definitions for the OED and sent thousands of papers slips to Oxford, before his death in 1920.

As crazy as it might seem, it's all very true.

Like Erik Larson--who has written Devil in the White City, Dead Wake, and Thunderstuck--Winchester has a narrative quality to his work that makes it appealing without compromising the facts.  Winchester pulls from a variety of resources, including medical documents from Broadmoor (an infamous mental institution for the criminally insane in Crowthorne), correspondence between Professor Murray and Dr. Minor and other important individuals, as well as historical texts.  He uses information to benefit the story, supplying an electrifying narrative and, simultaneously, feeding his readers the true and unaltered facts.  It's all very, very good.

As for my final book, I read The Lives They Left Behind:  Suitcases from a State Hospital Attic by Darby Penney and Peter Stastny.  Although I suspect this final category--which recommends reading a book with a main character who has a mental illness--is referring to a fictional novel rather than a nonfiction narrative, I decided to run with the ambiguous wording and read something not about one character with mental illness, but ten.

The Lives They Left Behind explores the lives of Willard State Hospital patients who were admitted to the hospital during the late 19th and 20th centuries.  Penney and Stastny provides an in-depth look at some of the permanent residents at Willard, as well as offers a glimpse at the big picture of mental/psychiatric care during its formative years.  The book also provides photographs and illustrations that further illuminate the care patients received, and what sort of trials they went through with (or, in some cases, without) mental illness.
3322978
Bellevue Literary Press

Altogether, I found it to be a fascinating book.  It's an examination of psychiatric care that provides statistics, which can prove a bit dull, but it also connects on an emotional level and delivers nuggets of truth that are sometimes like a punch in the gut.  It's a tough read sometimes.  For instance, I had a hard time reading about the electroshock therapy that often caused patients to have convulsions, or the medications that were prescribed that often did more harm that good--or, worse, how some patients were treated even if they didn't suffer from a psychiatric disease.

Patients, like Ethel Smalls or Margaret Dunleavy, were most likely suffering from other conditions rather than mental disorder.  Ethel Smalls likely suffered from PTSD after losing her children and being on the opposite end of her husband's temper, enduring years of abuse that left her in a fragile state.  Likewise, Margaret Dunleavy was hospitalized after an uncharacteristic outburst due to a personal tragedy and chronic pain.  Neither woman displayed the usual characteristics of mental disorder, rather they were hospitalized because they were inconvenient.  It's a heartbreaking fact behind the stories of many patients.

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

The Professor and the Madman

Professor and the Madman: A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary
HarperCollins
The Professor and the Madman:  A Tale of Murder, Insanity, and the Making of the Oxford English Dictionary
Simon Winchester
1998

The Summary
"It is known as one of the greatest literary achievements in the history of English letters.  The creation of the Oxford English Dictionary began in 1857, took seventy years to complete, drew from tens of thousands of brilliant minds, and organized the sprawling language into 414,825 precise definitions.  But hidden within the rituals of its creations is a fascinating and mysterious story--a story of two remarkable men whose strange twenty-year relationship lies at the core of this historic undertaking.

"Professor James Murray, an astonishingly learned former schoolmaster and bank clerk, was the distinguished editor of the OED project.  Dr. William Chester Minor, an American surgeon from New Haven, Connecticut, who had served in the Civil War, was one of thousands of contributors who submitted illustrative quotations of words to be used in the dictionary.  But Minor was no ordinary contributor.  He was remarkably prolific, sending thousands of neat, handwritten quotations from his home in the small village of Crowthorne, fifty miles from Oxford.  On numerous occasions Murray invited Minor to visit Oxford and celebrate his work, but Murray's offer was regularly--and mysteriously--refused.

"Thus the two men, for two decades, maintained a close relationship only through correspondence.  Finally, in 1896, after Minor had sent nearly ten thousand definitions to the dictionary but had still never traveled from his home, a puzzled Murray set out to visit him.  It was then that Murray finally learned the truth about Minor--that, in addition to being a masterful wordsmith, Minor was also a murderer, clinically insane--and locked up in Broadmoor, England's harshest asylum for criminal lunatics.

"The Professor and the Madman is an extraordinary tale of madness and genius, and the incredible obsessions of two men at the heart of the Oxford English Dictionary and literary history.  With riveting insight and detail, Simon Winchester crafts a fascinating glimpse into one man's tortured mind and his contribution to another man's magnificent dictionary."

The Good
I greatly enjoyed reading The Professor and the Madman.  I'd seen it in passing when I was collecting a stack of books and, of course, the subtitle caught my attention almost immediately.  After all, what did murder have to do with Oxford English Dictionary--and who was the madman supposedly involved with the entire affair?

I certainly had to find out.

Simon Winchester's book is an interesting creation.  Part narrative and part biography, it reminisces of Erik Larson's work in that it manages to make history sparkle, so to speak.  It makes history accessible and amusing, taking something that sometimes goes dry and stale, making it into a fascinating and informative epic.  Personally, I loved every bit of it.  It appealed to my love of language and my love of history, offering me glimpses into both the creation and history of the language and the history behind one of the English language's most comprehensive book.

Yes, I found it was sometimes slow going.  (I'm very prone to distraction, I'm afraid, and I had a lot of books on my mind at the time.)  However, I loved reading about Professor Murray and Dr. Minor.  Murray and Minor were both brilliant individuals.  Intelligent and bright and innovative, they were the backbone of the Oxford English Dictionary and they helped to make it the incredible repository of information it is today, but they walked two very different paths.

Minor was a man of means, a gentleman of wealth who became a medical doctor and participated in the America Civil War; Murray was an incredibly bright scholar, a self-taught gentleman who eventually became a professor at Oxford and editor for the OED.  Minor's experiences, especially the trauma he faced during the Civil War, helped to shape him in later years and eventually brought him into contact with the dictionary project, but Minor, while fascinating, was not nearly as intriguing to me as James Murray.

Murray received only a rudimentary education, before he was forced out of school to help support his family; however, he eventually continued his education, learned several different languages--including German, French, Latin, et cetera--and became one of the most notable gentlemen at Oxford after he became a professor and an editor for the OED.  In his studies, he even trained local cattle to respond when he called to them in Latin, which made him more than passably interesting in my book.

Overall, I enjoyed reading The Professor and the Madman.  Wonderfully detailed and crafted with remarkable narrative quality, Winchester's book was a fantastic read.  It appealed to me on so many levels as a reader by making history and the English language accessible, but I might be biased.  I found it simply the perfect combination of weird, wacky history and interweaving narrative.

The Bad
No complaints.

Honestly, it was an enjoyable book for me.  As a former English major, I was fascinated by the history of the language and the creation of the OED.  Granted, others who don't care as much for history and English may not find is as interesting or amusing as I did, but I think other readers will be able to appreciate the effort and skill Winchester put into his book.

The Ugly
Much of the Winchester's book wasn't very grim.  Yes, Dr. Minor was entirely mad; yes, he was put into an asylum for the criminally insane; and, yes, his psychosis was alarming and sometimes violent (i.e. the murder of George Merritt), but I found it wasn't particularly graphic or stomach-turning.  Nothing one hasn't heard before in a history book.

However, the bit about "self-abuse" (masturbation) and self-mutilation was a bit much, and I found myself feeling a little squeamish.

Friday, July 24, 2015

Bonus: A Most Inconvenient Marriage

Bethany House Publishers
A Most Inconvenient Marriage
Regina Jennings
2014

The Summary
"With few options of her own, nurse Abigail Stuart agrees to marry her patient, a gravely wounded soldier calling himself Jeremiah Calhoun.  They arrange a quick ceremony before he dies, giving Abigail the rights to his Ozark farm and giving Jeremiah the peace of knowing someone will care for his ailing sister after he's gone - a practical solution for both of them.

"After the war, Abigail fulfills her side of the bargain - until the real Jeremiah Calhoun shows up, injured but definitely alive, and wastes no time in challenging Abigail's story.  Abigail is flummoxed.  After months of claiming to be his widow, how can she explain that she's never seen Jeremiah Calhoun before?  How can she convince him that she isn't trying to steal his farm?  And will she find a way to stay, even though this practical arrangement has turned into a most inconvenient marriage?"

The Good
I liked the development of the characters, the antagonism between the two primary characters (Abigail and Jeremiah) feels appropriate.  If their animosity seems exaggerated, their situation probably merits it since both individuals are unable to trust the other for losing what little they have.

I liked Abigail Stuart.  She's a strong, dynamic woman who's willing to take charge and work hard.  I enjoyed watching her develop in a difficult situation, seeing the different ways in which she develops in conjunction to Jeremiah.  Likewise, I like Jeremiah Calhoun for many of the same qualities - even if I do think he's a bit of an oaf when it comes to love.

It's a pretty decent novel perfect for light, afternoon reading.

The Bad
I don't like convoluted relationships.  Is it a love triangle?  A quadrangle?

I don't know.  Either way, I can't say I enjoy a complicated romantic dynamic.  It eats up too much of the novel when you're trying to sort out relationships, when you're trying to figure out all the names and romantic aspirations.  And it doesn't help that there's a hint of identity theft going on.

The Ugly
The Civil War was a harrowing time in American history.  It tore deep fissures between people, even family members, and it destroyed many, many lives; more to the point, it nearly destroyed an entire country.  Injuries weren't just on the surface and the effects of such carnage ran deep, taking a toll both physically and psychologically.

And the author doesn't shy away from telling even the darkest, saddest tales.

Monday, March 30, 2015

The Dante Club

Random House
The Dante Club
Matthew Pearl
2003

The Summary
"Boston, 1865.  A series of murders, all of them inspired by scenes in Dante's Inferno.  Only an elite group of America's first Dante scholars - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Oliver Wendell Holmes, James Russell Lowell, and J.T. Fields - can solve the mystery.  With the police baffled, more lives endangered, and Dante's literary future at stake, the Dante Club must shed its sheltered literary existence and find the killer."

The Good
I was hooked by the premise of The Dante Club:  a crazed killer haunting the streets of Boston, preying upon seemingly unrelated individuals, mimicking the horrible and grotesque tortures of Dante Alighieri's Inferno.  It combines literature, history, mystery, drama and suspense.  Matthew Pearl's novel has a little bit of everything, weaving together these different facets to create an intriguing and beguiling story.

Although I am a fan of Longfellow and I liked the literary characters that Pearl recruited, I have to say I liked Nicholas Rey the best.  As a detective, Rey was critical to the novel.  His side of the story, which ran parallel to the investigation prompted by the Dante Club, helps piece together clues to the puzzle, shows the actual police investigation (even if his police department isn't exactly the most reliable organization).

I also liked Rey because he was unceremoniously dismissed by his superiors, faced a level of adversity that the members of the Dante Club did not encounter and managed to perform his duties as an investigator.  You see, Rey is an African-American, and he is the first African-American investigator in his precinct.

Unlike Longfellow, Holmes, or Fields, who can travel where they like and speak to who they wish, Rey is not given that luxury.  His superiors often disregard or ignore him; his peers mock him; his city appears to see him as little more than a gimmick, a stab at diversity and equality that they don't honestly believe in.  He's blocked at every turn by the color of his skin and the deeply entrenched racial prejudices of his era.

And yet he still manages to do his job.

Rey is one of the most driven, the most competent and intelligent (if not the most) character in Pearl's novel, and he is by far my favorite.  Oh, you could argue Longfellow is a genius - and he is, like his colleagues - but Rey faces a level of adversity that the Dante Club does not and he still manages to piece together clues from a puzzle he doesn't readily understand.  To put it simply, he's great and he should never be underestimated.

The Bad
Pearl is a graduate of Harvard University and, honestly, it shows.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not criticizing his education.  I respect his education and I respect the great lengths to which he went to create a novel of such historical and literary depth; rather, I'm remarking upon the fact that The Dante Club can get a bit dense.  Verbose may be more accurate.

Pearl has created an exceptional novel, but he doesn't balance the depth and breadth of his research with ease of reading.  Wading through The Dante Club takes some time for the simple fact that you might not always understand the material he brings into his work.  If you don't have any prior knowledge of The Divine Comedy, if you don't know who Longfellow is or his importance in the literary field, then you might flounder a bit as you try to piece together the story.

It's a bit of a deterrent when you can't understand exactly what the characters are talking about.

The Ugly
The Dante Club is about a serial killer, first and foremost.  It's about a man who creeps through Boston, who systematically attacks and butchers people according to the cantos of Dante's Inferno.  It's a tale riddled with blood and gore as Longfellow and his colleagues, along with Nicholas Rey, attempt to uncover the identity of a depraved killer and stop him from murdering again.

Going into the novel, I expected carnage.

However, I will point out that I didn't expect Pearl's insight into the lives of individuals who survived the Civil War.  I grasped the social and historical context of the novel, but I didn't realize the detail the author would put into his work.  Pearl takes a long, hard look at the soldiers who survived the war and sheds unexpected light on the horrors that plagued the United States during this tumultuous time - and what he shows you isn't pretty.