Tagged: history

Thames Mudlarking

Thames Mudlarking: Searching for London’s Lost Treasures by Jason Sandy and Nick Stevens, 3/5

I appreciated the abundant, high-quality photographs in this slim book, but the text was dry and uninspiring.

Why I read it: Amazon threw this gift for my mother-in-law into a box of other purchases, completely devoid of any wrapping, to be tumbled around like a river rock on its journey to my door. It arrived predictably battered around the edges, but the silver lining was that I was able to take advantage of the exchange window to read it for myself.

My Favorite Intermissions

My Favorite Intermissions: Lives of the Musical Greats and Other Facts You Never Knew You Were Missing by Victor Borge and Robert Sherman, 5/5

I half-expected this collection of loosely opera-themed musical anecdotes to be outdated and cringey, but I was so wrong. The passage of time and changing tastes have not dampened Borge’s trademark hilarity.

Why I read it: I loved watching Victor Borge on VHS as a child and this book was a welcome thrift store find.

Shadow Divers

Shadow Divers: The True Adventure of Two Americans Who Risked Everything to Solve One of the Last Mysteries of World War II by Robert Kurson, 5/5

When a group of shipwreck divers discover a German WWII U-boat sunken just 60 miles off the coast of New Jersey, it sparks a 6-year saga of danger, drama, research, speculation and discovery. Kurson’s prose is beautifully written and guides the reader effortlessly through the biographical backstories, technical diving information, and historical events that combine to form the context for a real-life adventure story so intriguing that I stayed up until 2am to finish it in one day. Though less mythical in topic than the author’s other diving book, Pirate Hunters, this one is equally interesting, has a more satisfying conclusion, and contains more photos.

Why I read it: I enjoyed Pirate Hunters and wanted to check out more by this author.

Gilbert and Sullivan

Gilbert and Sullivan: Lost Chords and Discords by Caryl Brahms, 3/5

Even if the introduction did not acknowledge that the lives and careers of famous musical duo Gilbert and Sullivan was already a well-covered subject, the fact would be pretty obvious from the author’s incessant quotations and references to previously existing research. This college-research-paper approach is never the most appealing, and I was additionally put-off by the author’s many personal opinions throughout, grating self-references to “the present writer,” and comments that were difficult to understand (whether due to the passage of almost 50 years since the time of writing, or incorrect assumptions about the readers’ preexisting knowledge, is unclear).

Shortcomings aside, the book is generously illustrated and it was fascinating to read about the tumultuous, on-again-off-again relationship between an irascible lyricist and sickly composer, whose serious, classical works, though critically-acclaimed at the time, were soon eclipsed by the comic operas he considered beneath him.

Why I read it: a library reject that I bought from a book sale many years ago.

Pirate Hunters

Pirate Hunters: Treasure, Obsession, and the Search for a Legendary Pirate Ship by Robert Kurson, 5/5

This is one of those rare real-life stories that is crazier than fiction. The author does a great job of weaving in historical and biographical information about all the main characters, without losing momentum. I read the whole book in one day and stayed up until 2am to find out how it ended. Ultimately, I thought the ending was a bit anti-climactic, due in part to the photo insert (which felt inadequate, while also providing spoilers), but also due to the interventions of human nature and bureaucracy in an otherwise fantastical tale. However, I had no hesitation recommending the audio book to my husband and have ordered Kurson’s Shadow Divers, which is referenced in this book, from the library.

Why I read it: I salvaged it from my mother-in-law’s thrift store donation pile.

Great Tales from English History

Great Tales from English History: A Treasury of True Stories About the Extraordinary People–Knights and Knaves, Rebels and Heroes, Queens and Commoners–Who Made Britain Great by Robert Lacey, 5/5

This collection of historical stories is deftly woven together, seamlessly transporting the reader through over 9000 years of British history (from the Mesolithic period to postwar times). Famous incidents are presented with a fresh perspective and there is a satisfying variety of fascinatingly obscure events and details included as well. I wish there was a book like this written about every country in the world!

Why I read it: one of the few “required reading” entries from my college days that earned a permanent home on my shelves.

The Federalist Papers

The Federalist Papers by Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay, 5/5

In these 85 essays, originally published in 1787-88 by New York newspapers, three Founding Fathers use the pseudonym “Publius” to argue passionately for the ratification of the newly-proposed Constitution of the United States. Blow by blow, the authors address and dismantle the most popular criticisms of the day, occasionally stooping to empty rhetoric and snide remarks, but more often establishing logical and convincing rebuttals, based on common sense, the events of history, the practices of other nations, and a clear-eyed appraisal of human nature (recognizing both its positive and negative tendencies). It was a strange and refreshing experience to encounter in-depth and nuanced arguments, presented with respect for the everyday reader’s intelligence and belief in their sincere desire to form an educated and fair-minded opinion. Almost two hundred and forty years later, it is easy to be cynical and pessimistic about the future of our country, but it is no exaggeration to say that reading this book, in combination with the actual Constitution, re-kindled my love, pride and admiration for the grand experiment that is the United States of America.

Why I read it: A free copy showed up in my mailbox, completely unsolicited. Unfortunately, I peeled the mailing label off to read the back cover and now can’t recall what organization sent it.

The Houses We Live In

The Houses We Live In: An Identification Guide to the History and Style of American Domestic Architecture, edited by Jeffery Howe, 3/5

Either architectural styles are not as clear-cut as I expected, or the info in this unwieldy book was not presented in the most logical way. Long blocks of text, multiple writers, and occasionally unhelpful photo captions made for a somewhat overwhelming reading experience, but I did appreciate the thorough glossary and informative line art. Learning to spot some of the historical features characteristic of different time periods and styles was fun and makes every house I drive by that much more interesting.

Why I read it: If my memory is correct, I convinced my parents many years ago to let me buy this book from a thrift store in Hawaii and bring it home in our luggage despite its considerable size.

History of American Painting

History of American Painting, Volume One: First Flowers of Our Wilderness (The Colonial Period) by James Thomas Flexner, 2/5

In my experience, it’s unusual to encounter a book that has become outdated due, not to the information it contains, but to the technology used in its production. Unfortunately, that is the case with this book due to its high-contrast, black and white illustrations that bear very little resemblance to the historic paintings they represent. Additionally, individual illustrations are not specifically referenced in the text, nor are they always adjacent to relevant passages, so one is constantly flipping around in annoyance.

Having realized the pictures would be of little use, I tried to focus on the text, but was put off by the author’s highly opinionated tone (particularly combined with his lack of formal expertise on the topic). Flexner writes with a chip on his shoulder, simultaneously making it seem like he is the first to shed light on the early history of American painting, while also finding more bones to pick with other academics than you would expect if that were the case. While I didn’t appreciate his pettiness and have no idea how his mid-twentieth-century scholarship has held up, it was interesting to read about the evolution of painting from trade to Art, and develop an appreciation for details that might otherwise go unobserved.

Why I read it: I bought it from a library sale many years ago and it’s been sitting on my shelf ever since.

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen

The Adventures of Baron Munchausen by Rudolf Erich Raspe, illustrated by Gustave Dore, 3/5

The ridiculous and fantastical exploits of Baron Munchausen remind me very much of the tall tales told of American folk heroes Davy Crockett and Paul Bunyan. In fact, I so firmly associate this aesthetic with 19th- and 20th-century America that I really struggled to reconcile it with 18th-century Germany. I looked in vain for an undercurrent of serious political satire, but none was to be found. Even the illustrations seemed implausible: Gustave Doré is best known for his extremely serious engravings of Biblical scenes. I had to verify that he was even capable of depictions like Baron Munchausen’s butt plugging a hole in a leaky ship, while a school of fish look on in obvious shock. This book should not exist but it’s so bonkers that I’m glad it does (even if it’s not exactly my cup of tea).

Why I read it: another one from the list of 10 Forgotten Fantastical Novels You Should Read Immediately.