Tag Archives: genre: non-fiction

The Lost City of the Monkey God

The Lost City of the Monkey God is a 2017 non-fiction book by Douglas Preston (who also wrote The Monster of Florence, which I didn’t realize until recently) about the efforts to discover La Ciudad Blanca in Honduras.

Legends of La Ciudad Blanca go back centuries, with stories circulating as far back as the era of the conquistadors of Spain. Naturally, La Ciudad Blanca is supposedly a civilization of legendary wealth, and people have been exploring the Honduras and Nicaragua jungles for decades, looking for the ancient ruins of the city (and probably hoping to find lots of gold). Archeologists, anthropologists and the other ‘ists’ who study these things now believe that while it’s likely such a settlement did exist, it was probably a larger civilization over a larger area that just one specific city.

Preston’s book takes on one such effort to locate what’s left of the civilization. The book debunks claims to have found such a city in the 1930s (when these exploration expeditions were quite common). Those 1930s expeditions are where the book gets its name from, though.

Preston ends up joining a joint Honduran & American expedition to a previously unsearched area, where lidar technology indicates extensive archaeological sites hidden by the rainforest. The site ends up being a large pre-Hispanic settlement – with plazas, terracing, canals, roads, etc… The site indicated that in this area once was an extensive, fairly advanced civilization. It was also determined to be abandoned approximately 500 years ago. While this city was an invaluable find, the existence of La Ciudad Blanca remains uncertain. The city Preston’s expedition found is modernly called ‘City of the Jaguar.’

Preston’s book was quite interesting and I learned a lot from it (I don’t know that much about South America, so it’s not surprising I learned a lot). In addition to the discovery of the abandoned settlement, Preston recounts the history and geography of the area, mostly remote tropical rainforest, as well as the trials and tribulations of the expedition – dehydration, mud, parasites, poisonous snakes. So, you know, all everyone’s favorite things.

The book was interesting and I learned a lot. Would recommend.

The Gift of Fear

I listened to The Gift of Fear: Survival Signals That Protect Us From Violence on the advice of my mother, who has spent all my life (and at this point, most of hers) trying to keep me from being kidnapped and murdered.

I’m exaggerating, but only slightly.

My parents drilled in to me, for as long as I could remember, certain safety precautions that in hindsight they were 100% right about but they maybe could have been slightly less terrifying about? Then again, I haven’t been kidnapped or murdered, so they might have been on to something.

The big safety thing my parents practically beat into me, for as long as I can remember, is to never, never, NEVER for ANY reason – get into a car with someone that I don’t know. This kept me safe but also sort of ruined my life because I’m reluctant to use any ride service (uber, lyft, whatever) except a licensed taxi service. And even then I don’t love getting into those cars by myself. My poor husband has had to basically force me into uber rides or shell out twice as much money for real cabs. Still though, I’ve never been kidnapped or murdered, so once again, my parents may have been on to something.

Now that I’m an adult, I look back on their advice and realize it was spot on in some ways that didn’t make sense to me at the time but totally make sense to me now. For example – a normal adult is never going to ask a kid they don’t really know for help. They won’t ask for directions, they won’t ask a kid to help find their dog, they won’t ask the kid to show them how a flashlight works or whatever. Especially a young kid. And while as a kid all missing puppies were a big concern for me, I know now my parents were right because as a 34 year old normal adult person, I would *never* ask a kid for help. The most I can see myself doing is asking a kid to call 911 while I am dying on the sidewalk out of reach of my phone, because that is the *only* time I would probably ever ask a kid for help.

I didn’t realize it at the time but most of these lessons were protecting me before my gut instincts were developed enough to be trusted. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s probably not and you should get out of there.

The Gift of Fear is classified as a self-help book, but I didn’t find that classification completely accurate.

Gavin de Becker, who wrote the book, is a security specialist with a lot of experience in protection. He helped to develop the MOSAIC Threat Assessments Systems that is still used today when assessing threats of violence against people, particularly public figures. The book emphasizes trusting your gut but also educates the reader on places where violence occurs (it can be anywhere, really, but common in places like home, school, work, dating, etc…) and on PINS, which stands for pre-incident indicators. In de Becker’s experience, life threatening acts of violence aren’t usually random. You can predict violence if you know what you’re looking for, but most people don’t know what they’re looking for. Something feels off in the moment but the person ignores it, and ends up in danger.

There are a number of PINS, but these are the ones I remember best and still see all the time:

+ Typecasting – putting the chosen victim in a role (usually in an insulting way) which the victim feels obligated to prove untrue. “You think you’re too good for me.”
+ Unsolicited Promises – a promise to the victim that, usually, the victim doesn’t request. Such promises are likely to be broken. “I promise this is the last time I’ll contact you.”
+ Ignoring the Word ‘No’ – self-explanatory.

Is everyone who does one of these things going to turn to violence? No. But these are considered warning signs to go with your gut. de Becker is right that we have a finely developed instinct for fear – it’s intuition developed over millions of years that comprises a thousand little observations that we aren’t even completely aware of.

I’ve read some complaints that the advice in this book is that it’s “too anecdotal” and is “just common sense” and is too focused on “male violence towards women.” (As if there aren’t numbers that back up a lot of these violent crimes are committed by men, most frequently against women.) At least one of those complaining reviews was from a dude, who probably hasn’t been told that they should “be nice” to men to placate them and that the boy who hits you in the school yard is doing it because he “likes you.” Women are told constantly to ignore their own discomfort in favor of being nice.

It’s nice that we’re moving away from that, but it’s not gone. I also think it’s good to point out that people who are escalating in these warning signs of violence don’t suddenly de-escalate. They get worse. The book *is* fear mongering, but it’s not fear mongering in a bad way. More people could stand to better be safe than sorry.

I highly recommend the book, especially to women.

The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany

As I mentioned in my previous post, I did a bunch of heavy history books in 2019, and William Shirer’s massive tome on Adolf Hitler’s rise to and fall from power was the heaviest, literally and figuratively.

The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich: A History of Nazi Germany is the longest book I’ve ever read/listened to (as I did a combination of both). The book was 1280 pages and the audiobook clocked in at almost 57 hours.

I can’t really begin to recap this book in any real way except that it was by far the most detailed book on the Third Reich (or possibly anything) that I’ve ever read. It was very interesting and I learned a lot from it, but I also don’t know how much of it is looked at the same way, as the book is 50 years old and wasn’t written long after the time period it was recapping. (If you go by the theory that history isn’t really understood until 50 years after the events in question, it’s harder to ascertain that Shirer, while presenting a large amount of information, may have interpreted some of that information incorrectly.)

The book was highly praised when it came out, but wasn’t without its critics. Apparently the biggest critics were of those who disagreed with the sonderweg theory, but this theory was common in American scholarship at the time. With only some general knowledge on the sonderweg thesis from the book and then reading a bit further on the web, it sounds like the German history version of ‘Intelligent Design.’ Nonsense to me, basically. The book was also criticized as not academic enough, and some German history scholars thought it was a big failure based on the writer not knowing enough German history, not understanding totalitarian regimes, not knowing enough about “current” German Nazi scholarship (I don’t understand that critique at all), etc…

It’s a good general history book. Even with the sonderweg thesis and the author’s not so well hidden homophobia, this book is a readable, understandable breakdown of how Adolf Hitler came to power in Germany, which included biographical elements about Hitler (and many of his supporting cast of criminals) as well as the social environment of the time. Considering how much history tends to forget, this book, already 60 years old, will serve as a reminder for years to come.

Area 51: An Uncensored History of America’s Top Secret Military Base

I did a couple of pretty heavy history books in 2019, and this one was by far the wildest. Annie Jacobsen’s Area 51: An Uncensored History of America’s Top Secret Military Base is exactly the kind of book anyone interested in aviation and military history would want to read.

I originally borrowed Area 51 as an audiobook from the library but enjoyed it so much I ended up buying an actual copy of the book. Jacobsen interviews surviving military and aviation professionals who spent time in Area 51, as well as surviving participants of the US nuclear programs during the second World War and the Cold War.

With all the UFO stuff Area 51 is famous for, a lot of the other history surrounding the area can get lost. The history and use of the base is tightly guarded, which has fed into the legend, but the area is, first and foremost, a military base called Homey Airport or Groom Lake. A lot of the secrecy surrounding the base is due to the military developments taking place there, not aliens. Jacobsen documents the planes/programs developed, built, and tested out there (out there being the Nevada desert, for anyone who doesn’t know) in great detail. Included on the list of Area 51 programs was the U-2 program.

Nuclear testing/development was also taking place out there. In the book Jacobsen interviews Richard Mingus, who worked as security guard at the base for decades. He was even there when the base came under attack during a nuclear test. It turned out to not really be under attack, but it was a great story and I really liked Mingus as he came across.

The book was really interesting. It really was, I very much enjoyed it.

But where it failed was the alien stuff.

I’m about to spoil you.

If you want to be surprised about Jacobsen’s alien hot take, I am telling you stop reading here.

Stop.

Stop.

You asked for it.

Jacobsen claims that the infamous crafts/beings rumored to have crashed in the Nevada desert were, essentially, human guinea pigs flying crafts developed by the USSR. Stalin hired infamous Nazi “doctor” Josef Mengele to develop “grotesque, child size aviators” to pilot crafts to America that would produce the kind of hysteria that happened after Orson Welles’ broadcast of his 1938 radio program, War of the Worlds. The bodies found at the crash site were, ultimately, mutilated children. And this is what has been top secret for 75 years.

While the explanation isn’t any less plausible than an alien spaceship crash, it somehow actually feels like more of a stretch. I wouldn’t put it past Mengele or Stalin to attempt such an evil thing (obviously), but it still just seems too far fetched.

The book is criticized by some for being poorly sourced with errors, however, based on what I read, it seemed unclear if the sources were wrong or the translation into entertainment caused the errors. I think the idea of the UFO stuff being a Soviet hoax is the main source of the outrage from critics. The military and aviation stuff seems reasonably well done, although at least one person took issue with the source Jacobsen used for her information on the Manhattan Project.

Overall, I enjoyed the book tremendously. I highly recommend it if you’re into twentieth century American history, from World War II to the Cold War.

The Devil in the White City

The third (and final) book by Erik Larson in 2019 was The Devil in the White City.

Like Larson’s other works, he weaves several different narratives together and highlights how certain circumstances align into a perfect storm for a certain disaster to happen. In this case, the World’s Fair came to Chicago in 1893 and so did H.H. Holmes, the noted serial killer.

The World’s Fair storyline follows Daniel Burnham, in his job to build the fair, and H.H. Holmes, in the building of his murder castle. Once again, Larson’s narrative indicates a perfect storm – one of the reasons Holmes got away with his murder castle for so long was because there were so many people in Chicago in 1893.

I found Holmes to be the most interesting part of the book, but that isn’t surprising considering my interest in serial killers. Holmes was a jack of all trades criminal – he committed insurance fraud, arson, bigamy, grave robbing, and so on, not just murder. Holmes confessed to 27 murders (including people authorities could verify as still living, lol) but ended up being tried and executed for just one – his partner in insurance fraud, Benjamin Pitezel. The number of Holmes’ victims is unknown, but the conservative estimates put his number of victims at 10-34, and more liberal estimates put him at 200+. There’s really no way to tell.

It was an interesting story. Even Burnham’s half of the narrative wasn’t boring, it just wasn’t Holmes’ half. It was interesting learning about the architecture for an event that wasn’t permanent, and ever more interesting learning how Burnham managed it when stuff happened like…his investor died.

Overall, I enjoyed this immensely. Interestingly, Leonardo DiCaprio acquired the film rights to this book some time ago. 2010 maybe? The project has been delayed, but supposedly now is in development to be a television series.

Larson has a couple of other books out, that I admittedly am not in a rush to get to but would probably enjoy. If I had to rank the three I read in 2019, I’d rank them as such:

1. In the Garden of Beasts
2. The Devil in the White City
3. Dead Wake

Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania

The second of Erik Larson’s books I read in 2019 was Dead Wake: The Last Crossing of the Lusitania.


“Dead wake” is a maritime term for the disturbance that lingers on the surface of the sea long after the passage of a vessel—or a torpedo.


The RMS Lusitania was a British ocean liner that Germany sunk during World War I, eleven miles off the coast of Ireland. 1198 people died in the disaster, and it was one of the key events used to build support for entering World War I in the United States (along with the Zimmerman Telegram, but that came later).

Larson follows the ship from its launch in New York to its watery grave, following events that culminated in one of the great maritime disasters of the twentieth century. It’s always so amazing to me how many things have to go exactly right (or wrong depending on your point of view) for a major event like this to actually take place. Larson’s writing makes it so clear how if even just a few circumstances change, the Lusitania sinking probably never would have happened. It’s an incredible read in the sheer scale of circumstances that needed to converge.

The book also follows passengers of the ship. This seems to bother some people in the reviews I read of the book at the time? People seem annoyed that the whole book doesn’t focus entirely on the sinking and I find this stupid. Larson’s books are narrative, and he always works in these details into that narrative. If you want a book that only describes facts of a disaster, read a textbook. I don’t know if people just don’t know what they’re signing up for or what, but most of Larson’s books are like this, and it’s fine with me. These are the kinds of details that bring history to life in my opinion. It’s great to know straight history, but it’s very easy to forget reading a textbook over a hundred years later, that people died in that sinking. Telling their stories keeps their memories alive. It’s all well and good to abstractly know that 1198 people died in the sinking of the Lusitania; it’s another to know who some of them were, what their story was, why they were on board. That’s living history in a way a textbook could never be.

All that said, I had trouble enjoying this book, lol. I have a theory I drowned in a past life on a boat like this, because you couldn’t get me near one. I feel anxious just thinking about it now. But I enjoyed the book in the sense that it was a good history book and I enjoyed learning about the Lusitania and its passengers. It was a good, well written read that taught a ton of history without making me feel like I was reading a history book at all.

Fear: Trump in the White House

Fear: Trump in the White House is a 2018 (non-fiction, unfortunately) book by Bob Woodward.

For those who don’t know (I feel like most people do, but just in case), Bob Woodward is a renowned journalist best known as part of the Washington Post team that investigated and reported on the Watergate break-ins in the 1970s. This eventually led to scandal, exposing President Richard Nixon as a corrupt, paranoid lunatic and forcing his subsequent resignation of the presidency. Every idealistic teenager who wants to be an investigative journalist wants to be Bob Woodward, and he’s one of the most trusted journalists in the United States.

So Woodward’s investigative efforts carry weight, which is why this book was so damning. The book itself is based on hundred of hours interviews with first hand sources (which Woodward recorded), copious meeting notes, etc…

The book delves into the experiences of the people around President Trump, including but not limited to his (former) personal lawyer John M. Dowd, Defense Secretary James Mattis, and Chief of Staff John M. Kelly. Mattis and Kelly both deny passages about them but it seems unlikely Woodward would flat out lie about them.

This book came out before the midterm elections of Trump’s (first) term, and portrays the administration as chaotic and unprepared, led by a nutcase who was not suitable for the job but who wasn’t even capable of understanding how over his head he was.

I am pretty skeptical on many books based around current affairs, even by journalists as well respected as Woodward, because current affairs are often very nuanced and it’s hard to look at them objectively and gauge how accurate they are without historical hindsight.

That said, I struggle to find fault with this book, even though this book more or less confirms my view of Trump (I am/was not a Trump supporter). I am afraid of confirmation bias, but anybody who grew up on the New York area in the last 30-50 years knows exactly what kind of person Donald Trump is. Full disclosure: I am a 33 year old female from New York who grew up in the Westchester ‘burbs. My entire family on all sides came to the States in the early 1900s and has its roots in the Bronx. I’ve been exposed to Donald Trump for a large part of my life through local media, and my family has been hearing about him for the better part of half a century. The stories/descriptions of his words/actions in this book match previous patterns of things he’s said/done.

Watch what he does, not what he says. If you care to look, you will find stories dating back decades of how he’d hire contractors to do a job and not pay them, knowing they’d have to take the loss because they didn’t have the time or money for a long legal battle. He has a history of belittling employees and his “inferiors.” He shows up to major events unannounced and takes credit for things he had nothing to do with. He talks a big game and never backs it up. He is the worst breed of New Yorker. Every once and a while, he blunders his way into being right about something. The guy is and always has been a loud mouthed, narcissistic conman selling snake oil to the naïve. New Yorkers know this.

Plus, Woodward doesn’t just make shit up. He’s fair and he has a good track record of being critical and skeptical of all people in power, regardless of their political affiliation. I have trouble believing that he would suddenly become a sensationalist with an agenda to push out of dislike of Donald Trump. More likely, he’s observing the realizations of high ranking officials within the administration coming to terms with what at least two generations of New Yorkers who pay attention already know: Trump is not playing twelve dimensional chess, as his supporters and sycophants like to claim. He is in no way, shape, or form, fit to be President of the United States.

This book was disturbing but enjoyable, and the kind of high quality journalism we’ve come to expect from Bob Woodward. It’s a little dated at this point, but I think Woodward’s book will eventually be seen as a reliable record of an uncertain time in American history – a current events book at its best.

Gumption: Relighting the Torch of Freedom with America’s Gutsiest Troublemakers

It surprises me as much as it surprises the next person that Nick Offerman has published not one but TWO books (and actually, I think a third, but that was written with his wife). For those who don’t know, Nick Offerman played the hyper-masculine Ron Swanson (with the best mustache) on NBC’s critical darling Parks and Rec.

The reason it surprises me that Offerman has written two books is because he seems like someone who would constantly be working on other things. I read his first book (Paddle Your Own Canoe) on my honeymoon, and a year later I found myself with his second publication: Gumption: Relighting the Torch of Freedom with American’s Gutsiest Troublemakers.

This is *not* a super deep history book. If you’re looking for truly scholarly material, you’re better off elsewhere. This book, while reasonably well researched, is an in depth look at people Offerman personally admires, who also have done some pretty great things for the United States (which is part of the reason Offerman likes them). I especially liked Offerman’s chapters on Wendell Berry and Teddy Roosevelt. (‘Bull Moose: Balls Deep’ is the election slogan we’re all looking for, honestly.)

As I said, this is a book of essays by Offerman about people Offerman admires. I enjoyed it tremendously, but only because I wasn’t expecting a scholarly history book with no opinions in it, apparently. Some of the complaints I’ve seen leveled at it are completely bizarre to me – like valuing hard work but espousing principles “opposite of the entrepreneurial spirit” which I think means the reviewer rejects Offerman’s opinion that our corporate overlords (who he doesn’t trust) should pay workers a living wage for honest work.

Offerman definitely has some opinions about things like cellphones being a pain in the ass. While he does go overboard with some of his points (clearly for comedic effect), he also uses that humor to make points. Sometimes life *is* better when your cellphone isn’t an appendage of your arm. Sometimes technology, while also being pretty great, really fucking sucks. This is part of Offerman’s personal brand as well as a real point – he’s obviously a slight curmudgeon (somewhat purposefully) but again, I’m not sure what people were expecting here regarding Offerman himself being part of the book. I expected opinions and comedy.

This book was fun, lighthearted, and humorous (which apparently some people don’t like). Offerman narrates the audiobook himself, which is adds another layer of humor, as Offerman is a very good, understated comedian. If you don’t enjoy Offerman’s brand of humor (or pretty mainstream left leaning political opinions, like “Democrats and Republicans, but especially Republicans, all kind of suck”) you’re not going to enjoy this book.

In The Garden of Beasts

I did a couple of books by Erik Larson in 2019, with In the Garden of Beasts being the first one. Obviously there is no shortage of books chronicling the rise of the Hitler and the Third Reich. This would be one of those, except from a slightly different perspective than other books.

This book followed American ambassador William Dodd from 1933 to 1937, when he lived in Berlin with his family. Dodd initially hoped that the Nazi government would become more moderate with time (which obviously did not happen) and occasionally protested the Nazi government’s atrocities leading up to the war. The story also follows his daughter Martha, who was either separated or divorced, and her being swept up in the Berlin social scene. She had several “liasions” with the German social elite, including with at least one fairly high ranking Nazi officer, Rudolf Diels, I think it was? Diels was the original head of the Gestapo, or part of the Gestapo before it was completely centralized. So it was before Goring conceded control of the Gestapo to Himmler, or something like that. If I remember correctly, Diels was a protégé of Goring. That’s why he wasn’t killed in the Night of the Long Knives. Goring warned him and got him out, something to that extent. It makes sense because in the power struggle between Himmler and Goring, Himmler probably wouldn’t go after his own protégé.

Diels wasn’t executed after the war. He was associated with Goring and I think married a cousin of his, but wasn’t actually involved much after being ousted as the Gestapo chief in the 1930s. He refused to order the arrest of Jews in like, 1940 or 1941, and apparently only Goring’s influence kept him out of prison.

I really hope I’m remembering the right guy, lol.

The book also deals with how Dodd was being sabotaged at home, or at least badmouthed. Dodd was a personal friend of FDR, who thought he was doing an extraordinary job, but he was disliked and distrusted but the State Department because he wasn’t one of their good ol’ boys. Sounds like a familiar part of anyone’s story who wasn’t a good ol’ boy.

I really enjoyed this book, and Larson’s books in general. His books tell interesting stories that are frequently well known but from perspectives that aren’t entirely fleshed out, and his writing itself is scholarly but accessible as he weaves different points of view into one overarching storyline to detail one historical event.

Fun fact: the title is a translation of ‘Tiergarten,’ a popular park and zoo in Berlin.

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much

Third true crime book of the year! This one was more gentle than the first two.

The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession by Allison Hoover Bartlett focuses on John Charles Gilkey, who stole hundreds of thousands of dollars in rare books and manuscripts.

Bartlett details Gilkey’s methods and means of stealing, using forged cheques and stolen credit card numbers to make the purchases from rare book dealers. Bartlett extensively spoke with Gilkey, who seemed to be unable to control himself when talking. He would only give her details after the statute of limitations expired on his crimes though. She extensively discusses his personality and some of his psychologic makeup. The fact that he couldn’t afford the books he wanted didn’t seem to faze him. He spoke of “doing business” with the merchants whose merchandise he stole. Gilkey didn’t steal for profit; he stole because he loved what he was stealing.

The book also features Ken Sanders, a rare and antique book dealer who helped set up a sting to catch Gilkey in 2003 (Gilkey has done several stints in prison for different instances of thieving), and the book examines the world of rare, antique, and desired books. According to Bartlett, the theft of rare books is even more common and lucrative than the theft of fine art. Collectors are passionate and also ruthless. Many are extremely wealthy and will stop at nothing to possess the item they want. In the case of Gilkey, he thought he deserved what he stole.

This book is described as suspenseful but I didn’t think of it as such. I enjoyed it – Gilkey’s mental makeup was fascinating and Bartlett both makes interesting characters out of Gilkey and Sanders while showing they’re flip sides of the same coin, at least in my view. They’re both passionate and obsessed, but while Sanders acquired his books legitimately, Gilkey resorted to thievery. Gilkey is completely unrepentant and seemingly delusional, which also makes him intriguing.

I’d recommend this book, but don’t expect a thriller. It’s an interesting look into the book world and what makes its members tick. It’s a good book, but I didn’t feel like it was a page turner.