Lady Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History

Harper Perennial

Lady Killers:  Deadly Women Throughout History
Tori Telfer
2017

The Summary
"In 1998, an FBI profiler infamously declared in a homicide, 'There are no female serial killers'--but Lady Killers offers fourteen creepy examples to the contrary.  Though largely forgotten by history, female serial killers such as Erzsebet Bathory, Nannie Doss, Mary Ann Cotton, and Darya Nikolayevna Saltykova rival their male counterparts in cunning, cruelty, and appetite for destruction.

"With a feminist lens and a witty, morbidly humorous tone, Lady Killers dismisses easy explanations (she was hormonal, she did it for love, a man made her do it) and tired tropes (she was a femme fatale, a black widow, a witch), delving into the complex reality of female aggression and predation."

The Good
Honestly, I enjoyed this book far more than I probably should have.

There's something fascinating about female serial killers.  Perhaps, I have been susceptible to the idea that women are softer, gentler, and less likely to kill, despite knowing to the contrary, and find myself aghast that these ladies existed; perhaps, I'm just fascinated by the idea of off-kilter women surviving in any way possible.

Either way, I was absolutely hooked by Lady Killers.

I had a handful of chapters that I really enjoyed:  "The Sorceress of Kilkenny," which featured Alice Kyteler who was accused of being a witch and killing four husbands; "Vipers," featuring Raya and Sakina, prostitutes who owned a brothel murdered several young women (and possibly others) in Egypt after World War I; "Wretched Woman," which focused on Mary Ann Cotton, who killed several of her own children, several of her husbands' children, several husbands (all, but one) and lovers and, quite probably, many more; and, "The Tormentor," Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova, which you can read more about later.

These were just the most fascinating chapters for me; however, every chapter was thought-provoking and captivating in its own right.  Tori Telfer does a fantastic job as an author, creating a thoroughly researched and interesting book on an increasingly morbid topic.  She writes with a sense of humor, but also a deep appreciation of forgotten and/or misinterpreted history.

I especially appreciated Telfer's dedication to telling the truth or, at the very least, getting all her facts straight.  Telfer cuts through the terrible rumors and unfounded accusations that surround these women, dismissing what she cannot prove, and creates a believable portrait of each individual.

Elizabeth Bathory, for instance, is surrounded by a dark mythos of blood, terror, and sex.  She has become, on numerous occasions, a scandalous icon for debauchery and murder, a female counterpart to the wildly popular story of Dracula.  So much of what we know of her is unreal; however, Telfer makes an effort to humanize her, to reveal her a real person.  Yes, she committed heinous crimes and, yes, she was no doubt a murderess, but Telfer tells the story of a woman (albeit, a deeply disturbed woman), rather than a vampire or a dark temptress as she's sometimes portrayed.

The Bad
No complaints.

The Ugly
It's a book about serial killers.  It's going to be awful, horrible, gruesome, and macabre; it's going to have blood, gore, and violence--and all the other horrible things associated with cold-blooded killers.  Don't go into this book thinking, "It can't possibly be that bad.  It's not like it's Charles Manson or Jeffrey Dahmer, or someone like that."

Trust me, you're wrong.

These ladies are downright terrifying, just as much as any male serial killer.  Many of them got away with killing for years, like the murderous women of Nagyrev or Nannie Doss, before they were discovered; some even avoided justice altogether, like Alice Kyteler and Kate Bender.  They're killers, plain and simple, and they're frightening in their own right.

Perhaps one of the most frightening, in my opinion, was Darya Nikolaevna Saltykova.  Darya was a Russian noblewoman who lived during the reign of Catherine the Great and she killed, at the very least, 138 people (mostly women) during her lifetime.  She was inventive in her murders and, at times, she would kill someone with her bare hands if she didn't think anyone else would or could do it.  And, as the author points out, she showed zero remorse:

"So Darya killed and killed again, confident in her impregnability and furious at her serfs for each petty mistake, for getting in her way, for being her responsibility, for existing.  If she was a god, then her serfs were her pitiful playthings.  She could make them clean; she could make them cook; she could make them scream and bleed and beg. [...] 'I am my own mistress,' she cried. 'I am not afraid of anyone.' This belief that she was superior, unassailable, and even consecrated by the law was integral to her sense of self.  Perhaps she killed to prove one simple point:  that she could."

To me, Darya is absolutely terrifying.

When Churchill Slaughtered Sheep and Stalin Robbed a Bank

Picador

When Churchill Slaughtered Sheep and Stalin Robbed a Bank
Giles Milton
2016

The Summary
"More addictive and mind-blowing true tales from history, told by Giles Milton--one of today's most entertaining and accessible yet always intelligent and illuminating historians.

"In the second installment of his outrageously entertaining series, History's Unknown Chapters, Giles Milton shows his customary historical flair as he delves into the little-known stories from history, including when Stalin was actually assassinated with poison by one of his inner circle; the Russian scientist, dubbed the "Red Frankenstein," who attempted to produce a human-ape hybrid through ethically dubious means; the family who survived thirty-eight days at sea with almost no water or supplies after their ship was destroyed by a killer whale; or the plot that served as a template for 9/11, in which four Algerian terrorists attempted to hijack a plane and fly it into the Eiffel Tower."

The Good
Giles Milton's work is as entertaining as always in this latest addition to his series, History's Unknown Chapters.  Personally, I loved learning new things about history that I didn't know, like the rehearsal for D-Day that saw more than 900 casualties.  Or the spy who broke into Auscwitz.  Or the man who broke into Buckingham Palace and decided to hang out in the Queen's chambers.  Or Guy Gabaldon, who captured several hundred Japanese soldiers without even firing a bullet.

When Churchill Slaughtered Sheep and Stalin Robbed a Bank is pared down into manageable, bite-size sections, which makes Mileton's book both easy-to-read and accessible.  Don't want to hear about how Charlie Chaplain's grave was robbed?  Skip it!  Don't care to hear about Stalin's assassination?  Then move on to the next chapter.

This book is great if you like random facts, if you like history, or if you like learning about weird, quirky people and strange happenings across the globe.  It's highly entertaining and it's accessible, which I--and I'm sure other readers--appreciate.

The Bad
As I discovered with When Hitler Took Cocaine and Lenin Lost His Brain, When Churchill Slaughtered Sheep and Stalin Robbed a Bank is a book to be read at short intervals.  I loved the random facts, the quick anecdotes that taught me something new; however, I mostly read it in between other books or when I was waiting--like waiting for an oil change, or waiting for a seat at a restaurant, or waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up.

It's more of a short, entertaining read to be taken up at short intervals, rather than consumed in one large gulp.

The Ugly
Reality truly is stranger than fiction.

Read Harder Challenge 2017: Part 3

I finally finished the next part of my Read Harder Challenge.  I finished:

• Read a book about books.
• Read a book that is set within 100 miles of your location.
• Read a collection of stories by a woman.

Simon & Schuster

Starting out, I finished reading The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu by Joshua Hammer, which details events beginning in 2012 when more than 350,000 manuscripts--many of which had been painstakingly collected by Abdel Kader Haidara--were endangered by Al Qaeda militants seizing control of Mali.  In his book, Hammer details how Haidara and other manuscript collectors managed to find, preserve, and rescue hundreds of thousands of manuscripts, before smuggling them out of the country under the noses of Al Qaeda.

As the summary attests, it's indeed a "brazen heist worth of Ocean's Eleven."  Personally, I found it fascinating to learn how Haidara became involved in the manuscript preservation business and how he and other librarians managed to steal away more than 350,000 manuscripts from Timbuktu.  I mean, the number is simply mind boggling.

Moreover, I was consistently fascinated by the history and culture of Timbuktu and Mali as a whole.  Hammer offers a rich variety of details, discussing the medical, cultural, historical, scholastic and artistic impact of Timbuktu.  Although his work can grow a little dry, every chapter offers fascinating insight into the history of Timbuktu and, more importantly, provides readers with an eye-opening portrait of the conditions faced by Mali's residents when Al Qaeda invaded.

Cipher-Naught

Next, I checked out Beauty and the Mustache by Penny Reid.  Set in Tennessee, Beauty and the Mustache is a short, sweet little romance--which kicks off the Winston Brothers series and continues the Knitting in the City series, both by Penny Reid--that brings together Ashley Winston and Drew Runous.  After spending more than 8 years away from home, Ashley is forced to return to Tennessee to help take care of her ailing mother.  Expecting the same rough treatment from her brothers as from years before, she's surprised to learn they've changed.  She's even more surprised to meet their friend Drew, especially when she realizes he's exactly her type.

Overall, I really enjoyed reading Beauty and the Mustache.  Like I noted above, it's a short, sweet little romance and it's absolutely adorable.  It's sometimes bittersweet, sometimes tragic, but I immensely enjoyed reading Penny Reid's novel.  I found I connected to Ashley, our main character and narrator, on a personal level and I admired her sharp, sarcastic sense of humor, her intelligence, and her ability to go toe-to-toe with Drew's philosophical meanderings.

However, I will note I was bothered by one thing:  I did not like the setting.  I love the Smoky Mountains, don't get me wrong; however, I simply didn't like the narrator's inability to describe her surroundings.  I was incredibly disappointed by the setting descriptions, which were seriously lacking.  I wanted to hear more about the winding roads, the multitude of trees, the softly sloping mountains in the distance, or the way the hills fade against the horizon, deepening to a slate blue before disappearing altogether.

I wanted to hear about places I've known or seen, but, sadly, I didn't get that chance.  It was slightly disappointing.

Anchor

Last, I read Moral Disorder by Margaret Atwood.  I think I might have fudged the challenge parameters with this one, since it's really just a single novel; however, as it's labeled with "Other Stories," I assumed it would do the trick.  It centers around one woman--Nell--but it's a compilation of many short stories from different points in her life.

It begins with "Bad News," toward the tail end of Nell's life, but it jumps through time with each story and catapults Nell into the past, showing readers glimpses of her childhood and her adolescence and, finally, her transition into adulthood.

Truthfully, I didn't enjoy reading Moral Disorder that much.  Atwood is a fantastic writer and her prose packs a punch when she wants it, but, personally, I found I couldn't always connect with the stories in Moral Disorder, I couldn't always connect to Tig and Nell.  Granted, when I did connect with one of these stories, it moved me deeply and I worried for Nell, like I'd worry for a friend; however, I found it was a rather unremarkable journey for me overall.

The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu: And Their Race to Save the World's Most Precious Manuscripts

Simon & Schuster

The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu:  And Their Race to Save the World's Most Precious Manuscripts
Joshua Hammer
2016

The Summary
"To save precious centuries-old Arabic texts from Al Qaeda, a band of librarians in Timbuktu pulls off a brazen heist worthy of Ocean's Eleven.

"In the 1980s, a young adventurer and collector for a government library, Abdel Kader Haidara, journeyed across the Sahara and along the Niger River, tracking down and salvaging tens of thousands of ancient Islamic and secular manuscripts that were crumbling in the trunks of desert farmers.  His goal was to preserve this crucial part of the world's patrimony in a gorgeous library.  But then Al Qaeda showed up at the door.

"The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu tells the incredible story of how Haidara, a mild mannered activist and historian from the legendary city of Timbuktu, became one of the world's greatest and most brazen smugglers by saving the texts from destruction.  With bravery and patience, he organized a dangerous operation to sneak all 350,000 volumes out of the city to the safety of southern Mali.  This real-life thriller is a reminder that ordinary citizens often do the most to protect the beauty and imagination of their culture.  It is also the story of a man who, through extreme circumstances, discovered his higher calling and was changed forever by it."

The Good
I enjoyed reading The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu.  First and foremost, I had the chance to learn about some amazing librarians who did extraordinary things (I always like learning about librarians); second, I learned so much about Timbuktu and Mali, which I enjoyed.  I love learning about different regions and locales, and I was positively enchanted by Mali and the beautiful manuscripts Abdel Kader Haidara uncovers.

I love books.  I especially love old books.  They're beautiful and precious, and I was enthralled by the simple history and content of the hundreds of manuscripts that Haidara saved.  Joshua Hammer had a way of describing the manuscripts that made me want to reach out and hold them, to run my fingers over the pages and see the full-colored details painstakingly drawn upon their pages.

I was dying to view one for myself and feel the weight of history in my hands.

It's a consistent feeling throughout the book.  Hammer gives these manuscripts--and the men and women who saved them--a great significance.  They feel important, crucial to the preservation of history and culture and memory.

You get the feeling that Hammer is passionate about this story.  He wants to tell readers about the incredible librarians who preserved history against all odds, about the city and country that suffered under Al Qaeda, about the small community that banded together to survive unspeakable tragedy.  Truly, it's awe-inspiring to read.

The Bad
No complaints.

It's a bit slow on the build up, but it's a fascinating and thoughtful inspection on a region of the world with which I'm unfamiliar.  I was excited to learn more about Mali's wonderful and colorful history, to hear more about Haidara's unprecedented rescue mission of more than 350,000 books and manuscripts.

The Ugly
The violence this region endured is staggering.

Mali, particularly Timbuktu, was a thriving haven for artists, musicians, tourists, religious leaders, educators, and historians.  Regular festivals were held in honor of local music and musicians, and museums sprang up to celebrate the social, scholarly, medical, and cultural history of Mali.  And yet almost over night everything changed with the arrival of Al Qaeda.

Strict religious and social laws, appalling punishments, brutal behavior, cruelty, and that's just the tip of the iceberg.  They killed and maimed those they believed broke their laws; they restricted local businesses and workers, imposing harsh strictures, and all but killed Mali's economy; they defaced monuments and burned books, art, and more, destroying anything they saw as challenging their leadership.  They effectively tried to erase Mali's history and impose their own.

It's horrifying to witness these things.  I mean, I found it heartbreaking to see Timbuktu have its entire culture and history reworked through a lens of bigotry and hate, to witness innocent people lose their homes, their businesses, their limbs and their very lives for a philosophy of violence.  It's painful, and it's what makes The Bad-Ass Librarians of Timbuktu such a hard book to read and discuss.

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.

In Progress: Rejected Princesses (Completed)

Dey St.

Okay, so I finished reading Rejected Princesses by Jason Porath--and, in many ways, it makes me proud of my gender right about now.  I mean, sure, there are a few dark parts to history (Boudica, here's looking at you!) and they aren't always nice, considerate, or remotely moral; however, I enjoyed reading Rejected Princesses just for the simple fact that it decided to chronicle interesting, sometimes terrifying, sometimes brutal, but always fascinating women of history.  I learned so much more than I expected.

I've heard of Mata Hari, Joan of Arc, Harriet Tubman, Elizabeth Bathory, Boudica, Ching Shih, and a few others.  I read Bad Girls by Joan Stradling and gained a whole new appreciation for the most infamous women in history; however, Porath offers a more comprehensive look at these famous--and, of course, infamous--ladies and he does it with a touch of humor.  His passages are relatively short (three to four pages, max), but they're simultaneously informative and entertaining.

More importantly, I discovered aspects of history about which I never knew.  I love history and I love learning about history, whether it's in my own back yard or across the ocean, and I loved that I was able to deepen my knowledge of various time periods.  For instance, I was excited to learn more about female contributions to the American Revolution with Sybil Ludington.  Or learning about the Canary Islands, about which I knew nothing, with Andamana.  Or learning more about technological, mathematical, and scientific discoveries with Annie Jump Cannon, Hypatia, Ada Lovelace, and so many more.

It was exciting.

But, I have to say, I think I loved the Night Witches of World War II the best.

I mean, I am fascinated by World War II.  I've read several books about it, and I've studied it probably more than the average person.  I'm not an expert by any means, but I find myself constantly fascinated by conflicts and social/political shifts that occurred in WWII.  It's an era that has such wide-reaching effects we can still see the ripples today; heck, we can still talk to the people who endured it.  I may not enjoy violence, but I like hearing stories about it and I like piecing together my knowledge of it, I like holding those stories.

And yet I've somehow never heard of the Night Witches.

How?

But here's how cool they were:

"The Night Witches mark one of the greatest underdog accomplishments in military history.  Handed a bunch of slow, flammable trainer planes that had been designed only to dust crops, an all-female group of untrained civilians became one of the most decorated divisions in the entire Soviet military.  Flying without armor, guns, sights, radio, cockpits, brakes, parachutes, or virtually any navigation machinery, they dropped bombs on the Germans every three minutes, like clockwork, every night for three years."

Moreover, they would often cut their engines and dive over German military camps on the Eastern front, before kicking on their engines and dropping bombs.  They literally fell out of the sky, dropped bombs, and then did it again and again and again.  "They flew over 1,100 nights of combat, and each pilot flew over 800 missions."

Holy cow.

These women are super women.  They were--and are--amazing.  They pushed the physical limits of the human body, while simultaneously making due with substandard military equipment and challenging the typical military and/or social culture of Soviet Russia.  They're incredible!

Guess, I know what I'll be reading about next.

In Progress: Rejected Princesses (Continued)

Dey St.

Okay, so I've made it about half way through Jason Porath's book; however, I have wantonly skimmed it and skipped to some of the more intriguing--not to say they aren't all intriguing, or curious, or fascinating, or strange--entries.  Like the warlord's widow who cultivated an entire school of ninjas in Japan, or the Vietnamese sisters who waged a war against Chinese invaders, or Phoolan Devi (that was a difficult one to read), or Elizabeth Bathory (this one blew my mind).

There are so many of these entries.  Some of them mind-blowing, some of them fascinating, some of them hilarious and/or tragic.  You get the whole spectrum with Rejected Princesses and, truthfully, I haven't been disappointed yet.  I mean, all of these women are powerful and independent, and they don't adhere to the traditional roles of females in society.

Instead, they go out and kick butt, fight against a system that tries to squash them, and, in  general, be awesome.

I love that Porath takes the time to carefully research these ladies; honestly, I love that he makes an effort at all to chronicle the forgotten women of history who worked as shipbuilders and soldiers and strongmen--ahem, strongwomen--and ninjas, and so, so much more.  It's great.  It's not always safe for kids, as his trigger warnings make apparent on the corner at the introduction of each entry; however, it's a nice addition to any burgeoning historian's collection.

I mean, how could you not enjoy learning about these ladies who have made and redefined history and continue to influence our world today?

So far, I have a list of favorites:

• Khutulun
• Tatterhood
• Sybil Ludington
• Grace O'Malley
• "Stagecoach" Mary Fields
• Iara
• Trung Trac and Trung Nhi
• Mary Bowser
• Julie "La Maupin" d'Aubigny
• Nanny of the Maroons
• Tomoe Gozen
• Mariya Oktyabrskaya
• Ada Lovelace
• Laskarina Bouboulina
• Ching Shih

I'm just going to say it again:  This book is great.

In Progress: Rejected Princesses

Dey St.

So, I have just had my mind blown by Jason Porath's Rejected Princesses.  Thus far, I've only read a few entries, like Tatterhood and Agnodice, Andamana, Sybil Ludington, and Grace O'Malley; however, I have fallen completely and irrevocably in love with this book and Porath's humorous--yet surprisingly well-researched--entries.  It's funny, it's informative, and it's full of kick ass women who have been overlooked (and/or forgotten) by history.

It's amazing.

I mean, I never knew about Tatterhood.  I love fairy tales and yet, somehow, Tatterhood and her weird, winding story managed to escape me!  Granted, I might have enjoyed her story a little more with Porath's candid commentary on the story; regardless, I think I gained a new appreciation for Norwegian fairy tales and myths.  I'm curious to learn more.

Likewise, I'd love to learn more about Khutulun and Sybil Ludington.  Kutulun was a Mongolian princess (great-great granddaughter to Genghis Khan, by the way) who was an incredible fighter and a skilled ruler.  She issued a challenge to any potential suitors:  if any could best her in wrestling, they would have her hand in marriage; if they could not, she would get their horses.  (Spoiler alert:  she was never defeated.)  She's a fascinating historical figure and, while she isn't quite as brutal as her infamous ancestor, she made a huge impact on Mongolian culture even to this day.  How on earth haven't I heard about her?

And then there's Sybil Ludington.  She could be an American icon, and yet I've never heard her name.  Born in southeastern New York, she was the daughter of Colonel Henry Ludington--and a revolutionary solider in her own right.  Like Paul Revere, she set out on a midnight ride to warn about the impending British invasion; however, she took it a step further and rode out 40 miles in a little over three hours through the dark, rainy forest riddled with bandits and other dangers.  "By contrast," Porath writes, "a certain other someone...only went 12 miles across well-worn streets and was caught by British loyalists at the end of it.  Ahem."

She's awesome.

And, so far, this book is awesome.

I think I'll have to buy a copy for myself.

-

For more of Jason Porath's Rejected Princesses, you can actually check out rejectedprincesses.com for more entries and plenty more fun.

Read Harder Challenge (Part Seven)

I finished some new books for my Read Harder Challenge, and I've completed more reading tasks:

1. Read a biography (not memoir or autobiography)
2. Read a dystopian or post-apocalyptic novel
3. Read a book about religion (fiction or nonfiction)

St. Martin's Griffin

First up, I finished Florence Foster Jenkins by Nicholas Martin and Jasper Rees, which inspired the recently released movie of the same name.  Florence Foster Jenkins was not a traditional singer.  At a young age, she was well known for her skill with a piano and her love--and, more importantly, support--of music; however, it wasn't until she was 76 years old that she undertook to become a concert singer.  She's best remembered for her concert at Carnegie Hall and her vinyl recordings, which introduced the world to her rather...unique voice.

I enjoyed reading Florence Foster Jenkins.  Drawing from multiple resources, including Florence and her common law husband, St. Clair Bayfield, Martin and Rees' book does an incredible job of shedding light on Florence, her work, and her time.  It's intriguing without becoming dull, amusing without ridiculing its rather unorthodox subject, and chock full of interesting historical facts about Florence and the New York artistic scene of the early 20th century.  Overall, I enjoyed it and I highly recommend for any readers to take a moment to listen to Madame Jenkins on YouTube to get a better idea of how her singing voice sounded.  You (probably) won't regret it.

Scholastic Press

Next, I completed Rook by Sharon Cameron.  The Sunken City--formerly Paris, the City of Lights--is a place of danger, desperation, and despotism.  Ruled by the corrupt Premier Allemande and the bloodthirsty LeBlanc, the Sunken City is brimming with discontent and revolution--and, at the heart of it all, is the mysterious Red Rook who spirits people from their cells and wreaks havoc against the Premier's puppet government.

A story packed with action and adventure, political intrigue and danger, Rook has quickly become one of my guilty pleasures.  I know it falls under the rather broad category of dystopian young adult fantasy (think Hunger Games, Divergent, The Maze Runner, Life as We Knew It or even The Giver), but I really enjoyed Sharon Cameron's novel.  I enjoyed the characters, the unexpected twists and turns, the ambiguous references to the past, the complicated political climate.  I wasn't a fan of the love triangle and, yes, I will admit that the story seemed to drag in a few places; however, altogether, I really liked it and I think it settles in nicely next to Cinder.

Last, I rounded out my reading with God in Pink by Hasan Namir.  Ramy is a young Muslim man living in Iraq in 2003, right in the midst of a war and a cultural revolution--and he also happens to be gay.  Struggling with what he knows his brother would term a "sexual deviancy," Ramy tries to balance his feelings with his obligations to his family and his faith.

Arsenal Pulp Press

Truthfully, I struggled with this novel, because I was not comfortable with all the depictions of heinous violence and wanton savagery.  I understand that mindless cruelty, thoughtless barbarity is simply a fact; I understand that it happens, that it's not something you can ignore if you live on the planet Earth.  I know it exists, but it's still hard to read about terrible things happening to other people.

I didn't hate this novel; rather, the opposite.  I thought God in Pink was a magnificent book depicting life in war-torn Iraq for a gay Muslim man.  It's poignant and it's guaranteed to make an impact, but, at the same time, it will tear out your heart.  I recommend reading it with great caution, like I would for Native Son by Richard White, Beloved by Toni Morrison, or The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck.  Read it, but expect deep emotional turmoil.

The Mental Floss History of the World: An Irreverent Romp Through Civilization's Best Bits

Collins

The Mental Floss History of the World:  An Irreverent Romp Through Civilization's Best Bits
Erik Sass
Steve Wiegand
Will Pearson
Mangesh Hattikudur
2008

The Summary
"Pop quiz!  Who said what about history?

"History is...

(a) more or less bunk.
(b) a nightmare from which I am trying to awaken.
(c) as thoroughly infected with lies as a street whore with syphilis.

"Match your answers:

(1) Stephen Daedalus of James Joyce's Ulysses
(2) Henry Ford
(3) Arthur Schopenhauer

"It turns out that answer need not be bunk, nightmarish, or diseased.  In the hands of mental_floss, history's most interesting bits have been handpicked and roasted to perfection.  Packed with little-known stories and outrageous--but accurate--facts, you'll laugh yourself smarter on this joyride through 60,000 years of human civilization.  Remember:  just because it's true, doesn't mean its boring!

"Answers:  (a) 2, (b) 1, (c) 3."

The Good
The Mental Floss History of the World is a fun and "irreverent romp through civilization's best bits," as the subtitle attests.  It's intriguing and engaging and delightfully informative; moreover, it's often hilarious.  I loved that the book offered a glimpse into little-known and forgotten history, while simultaneously entertaining readers.

Plus, it struck a sarcastic tone that appealed to my sense of humor.  I loved the funny side notes that picked out the most intriguing (or embarrassing) and unexpected moments in history, and I loved the sense of irony the writers doled out.  They weren't afraid to poke fun at even the most sinister figures in human history.

It's a quick read.  I finished it in a matter of days, because much of the book is short, concise snippets of history that allow the reader a taste of the more complex political and social milieu of the region.  Although it covers a very large portion of history (60,000 years of human civilization, to be precise), it doesn't feel overwhelming or dense or dull.

Additionally, I liked that the authors threw in a little appendix about Canada.  It's a neat little synopsis on their history that contrasts nicely with the rest of the insanity going on in the rest of the world.  Canada seems pretty peaceful.  A little neglected by the rest of world history, but pretty peaceful, nonetheless.

The Bad
Although I love history, I thought some of the anecdotes were terribly long.  Granted, I always learned something new and undeniably funny/ironic, but I sometimes felt like I was being led away from the original text.  They sometimes took me a little farther away than I would have liked.

The Ugly
Graphic explanations of some of the most violent--or most awkward--events in history.

When Hitler Took Cocaine and Lenin Lost His Brain

Picador

When Hitler Took Cocaine and Lenin Lost His Brain
Giles Milton
2016

The Summary
"In this first installment of his outrageously entertaining series, History's Unknown Chapters, Giles Milton delves into the little-known stories from history, like when a cook aboard the Titanic pickled himself with whiskey and survived in the icy seas where most everyone else died; or the man who survived the atomic bomb in both Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

"Covering everything from adventure, war, murder, and slavery to espionage--including the stories of the female Robinson Crusoe, Hitler's final hours, Japan's deadly balloon bomb, and the emperor of the United States--these tales deserve to be told."

The Good
I enjoyed this book much more than I expected.  Actually, I shouldn't say that because I expected quite a lot from a book titled When Hitler Took Cocaine and Lenin Lost His Brain.  This is a book that, as my coworker pointed out, "you pick up just for the title alone."  And, honestly, I have to say I agree.

Giles Milton's book is filled with fascinating tidbits of information, weird history, and incredible stories that seem almost too strange to believe.  It's fun and it's interesting without being too overwhelming or dense.  It's divided into short, quick sections, which makes it easy to plow through a whole chapter in a matter of minutes.

Moreover, I loved that I learned new things about history that I never knew.  Like the man who survived two nuclear explosions, one at Nagasaki and one at Hiroshima.  Or the cook who survived the sinking of the Titanic by, he claimed, drinking enough alcohol.  Or Agatha Christie's eleven missing days, during December 1926--before she was found in a distant hotel under the name of her husband's mistress.  Or how Lenin's corpse was preserved and put on display, his brain being donated to another institution for study (and his heart entirely disappearing).

Sure, it sometimes gets a little gruesome and, admittedly, a little weird.  But it's fun and fascinating, grabbing your attention and holding it by offering new and, if possible, even more incredible stories.  It's worth reading, especially if you love history or even just weird, unexpected facts.

The Bad
Giles Milton's book is not an in-depth study of human history.  Primarily, it focuses on historical events starting in 1912 (i.e. the sinking of Titanic) and ends somewhere in the 1960s, which means if you want to look beyond the twentieth century, you may have to look elsewhere.  It's a great book for an overview of facts, rather than a detailed examination of events.

The Ugly
Some of these stories have a (relatively) happy ending, like the cook who survived the sinking of the Titanic, or the seamstress who lived on an inhospitable island for 2 years before she was rescued, or the heroic dog who saved his fellow soldiers during World War I--or the real life Captain America who was twice turned away by the army, and eventually became a highly decorated veteran of World War II.

Other stories, however, are a little more brutal:  the pair of explorers who died on Mount Everest, the assassination of Rasputin, the Englishwoman who adopted several children and subsequently murdered them, or the poor individuals who were put on display before a jeering mob.  These stories, for me, often provoked disgust or sympathy.

Some of these stories are disheartening, some of them are daunting because they reflect an especially dark chapter in human history that, while intriguing and strange and downright weird, are often cringe worthy.

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.

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?

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.

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.

The Professor and the Madman

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.

Unfinished (Part 4)

For every ten books I enjoy, I find myself stumbling across a book I simply don't like or one I don't care to finish.  Some books, I initially loved; others, not so much.  Regardless, I must sadly admit defeat and say I didn't finish a single book I have listed here.

-

Punk Planet Books

The Boy Detective Fails by Joe Meno was an interesting book.  I was initially intrigued by the  title and the cover, a gray cover with the white-and-blue image of a young boy (i.e. the boy detective) looking at what appears to be a severed arm.  It's a strikingly macabre illustration that made me first pick up the book; however, as I continued to read the novel, I was less enthusiastic.  While Joe Meno crafts an intriguing young adult novel about a boy still reeling from the loss of his sister to suicide, still struggling to find a new balance in his life and deal with his mental illness, I can't stay I stayed intrigued.

There's something about the tone of the novel that eventually put me off reading.  Part of it may have been the fact that Billy Argo, the Boy Detective, spent the majority of his adolescence in a mental institution, or the fact that Billy, once released, is dead set on finding out what happened to his sister, looking for killers who may or may not exist.  With facts like these, I couldn't help but predict one of two outcomes for the book:  one, Billy Argo is seriously deluded and ends up hurting and/or killing someone in the pursuit of "justice"; or, two, Billy Argo discovers his sister was murdered and then his world/case unravels.

I could have jumped the gun by predicting the outcome of the book.  I mean, I could be completely wrong about how The Boy Detective Fails ends; however, I wasn't ready to risk reading an entire book when my two options seemed so very unappealing.

-

Broadway Books

I really enjoyed Erik Larson's Thunderstruck.  As a lover of books and a lover of history, Thunderstruck seemed to hit all the right notes with me.  It helped me learn about an obscure part of history I simply didn't know and it introduced me to a startling new world of science and engineering, telling me about Guglielmo Marconi and his startling new invention, the wireless telegraph.  I mean, I really enjoyed reading Larson's book.

But I couldn't finish it.

Don't ask me why, but I couldn't seem to commit myself to more than a handful of pages at a time.  I'd read five pages, then stop; I'd read another six pages, then stop myself again, and promptly find myself distracted by another book.  (Like The DUFF by Kody Keplinger, or The Martian by Andy Weir--which I highly recommend, by the way--or A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin.)  It was a frustrating cycle and, eventually, I just gave up.

I still intend to finish reading Thunderstruck.  I want to find out what happens with Marconi's machine, how a brutal murder in London is connected to the wireless telegraph--and how a mild-mannered physician became what he became.  One day, I'll have answers to these questions; one day, I'll finish reading Larson's book.

Today, however, just isn't that day.

-

Hyperion

The Anatomy of Ghosts by Andrew Taylor was an interesting novel.  Part mystery, part drama, it combines vaguely supernatural elements with human desperation and tragedy.  It's a strangely compelling narrative.  I'd liken it to watching a train crash: you simply can't look away from the devastation.

I listened to it as an audiobook, listening to John Holdsworth's personal tragedies as his life and story begin to unravel, listening as Holdsworth investigates the haunting at Jerusalem College at Cambridge--and, admittedly, I was hooked for several hours.  However, I hit a point in the story when I simply didn't want to hear anymore.  Perhaps, it was the antics of the Holy Ghost Club; perhaps, it was the macabre images of ghosts and corpses; perhaps, it was Frank Overshaw's imprisonment in a mental institution.

Regardless of the cause, I found I couldn't bear to witness anymore and I had to put the story aside and move on to something happier.  Something with a little less gore, I thought.  Something that wouldn't make my stomach squirm quite so much.

As a sidenote, I'll point out that John Telfer was an extraordinary narrator.  I loved how he gave a different tone, different voice to each and every character.  I couldn't help but enjoy how he managed to give each character a uniquely distinguishable voice.  It was wonderful, and I'd love to find another story narrated by him.

-

Bantam

Last, but not least, I must admit failure with one very special, very wonderful book:  A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin.

I absolutely loved reading George R.R. Martin's novel.  I loved the way the book felt:  heavy with stories, full of suspense, riddled with elements of fantasy--and don't forget the dragons.  But, for some reason, I just couldn't muddle through A Game of Thrones.  Like Thunderstruck by Erik Larson, I couldn't stay committed to just one book.

I became distracted by other books, by slimmer volumes that offered immediate gratification, by stories that weren't quite so...tragic.  It's a grim story, blood-soaked and twisted.  And after witnessing a number of harrowing misadventures and horrible deaths, I found myself less and less inclined to finish reading A Game of Thrones.

I suppose having the story ruined by the HBO show didn't help matters either.