100 books like Falling Upwards

This oversized coffee-table book is an archival treasure trove: a collection of primary source materials—contemporary articles, letters, broadsheets, and other rare material—arranged chronologically and packed with line drawings and spectacular full-color plates. The author lets the painstakingly harvested entries speak for themselves, with little comment or imposed context beyond the archival images, and the result is a rich tribute to the art of ballooning and its practitioners. Beautifully curated and visually dazzling, this is a browser’s delight.

I love the gossipy tone of Fulgence Marion’s 1870 tribute to aeronautical history and its heroes. It’s a lofty enterprise (anchored to the authorial “we”) but somehow feels intimate or even snarky at times, as if the author managed to be on hand for each ascent. You can almost imagine him peering over the shoulder of the aeronauts, explaining or challenging the flight “science” all the way. Wikipedia notes that Marion was the pen name of French astronomer and science fiction writer Camille Flammarion, a contemporary of Jules Vernes, which makes sense, but I can’t confirm it, so let’s just say that Marion (and/or his translator) is a wry observer, and the stellar line art is worth the price of admission. 

Also a bit gossipy or wink-wink in tone, Wright’s feminist take on early flight is good fun. She narrates the hair-raising adventures of female pioneers of balloon flight—from feisty French teenager Elisabeth Thible, the first woman in the air, to charismatic British actress Leticia Ann Sage, whom one newspaper credited with “that manly fortitude which constitutes the heroine.” Wright presents a memorable cast of women who were all willing and well able—whether for a day or for decades—to brave life in the upper stories. She narrates, too, how they did it despite danger and scandal, at a time when women had few options or outlets for challenging themselves personally or professionally.

Now for something completely different. My own book is for middle-grade readers, so I wanted to include another younger title, and it was perfect timing that this rollicking adventure crossed my path when it did. Hilariously droll, Phelan’s illustrated fiction stars characters lauded for their pivotal role in early flight—the three barnyard aeronauts who made the very first ascent in a hot-air balloon. But their career didn’t end there: the sheep, the rooster, and the duck went on to battle injustice, defeat dastardly villains, and expose nefarious plots against society. Phelan’s extraordinary farm animals are more than fearless aeronauts: they’re covert superheroes in a world of sinister secret societies, Benjamin Franklin, and the world’s first heat-ray. High-flying fun!

To my experience, this was the first novel of alternative historical fiction.

What if General George Armstrong Custer had survived the Battle of Little Bighorn? I loved the idea that history could be turned on its ear. The most fascinating parts of the book are the court appearances of Major Reno and Captain Benteen, who both survived the Little Bighorn.

Author Jones used their actual testimonies from Reno’s 1879 trial in Chicago. Having been to the battlefield, I understood better how the fight turned against Custer after reading this book. It’s well worth the read.

I bought this book in Chicago and read all 151 pages on a flight back to Dallas. Soldier Boy is a young adult fiction book that grabbed me from the first-page description of a bare-knuckle fight between the teenage protagonist, Johnny “the Kid” McBane, and an unnamed palooka in a gritty Chicago gambling house. McBane joins the Army to escape some hoodlums, and the story never lets up as it takes him to the frontier and eventually the Little Bighorn. I’ve many read many fictionalized accounts of the Little Bighorn. This is the best. Soldier Boy is a great read but also an excellent insight into the experience of many underage soldiers in the frontier Army. The ending will stay with you long after you finish the book.

What is a better way to understand history than to hear from those who made it? I’ve read Custer’s memoir several times and always enjoyed it immensely. Did he exaggerate parts of it? Maybe. After all, he was raised in the bragging, tall-tale culture of Ohio and refined that art on the lonely Army posts on the Plains. Custer had a self-deprecating style that allowed him to make fun of himself for accidentally shooting his horse yet he could put you on the edge of the seat when he took you with him into combat. My Life on the Plains is an excellent view of the life of a cavalryman doing service that Custer found was often distasteful and unappreciated by the civilians the soldiers protected. 

I know I’m going old school here with this memoir by the widow of General George Armstrong Custer. The Little Bighorn tragedy looms large throughout, but it happens completely off the page. Elizabeth “Libbie” Custer makes a conscious effort to show her husband in life rather than death, and in this way she illuminates the equally dramatic life experiences of so many military families on the American frontier.

I couldn’t believe how many similarities there are between being a military spouse in the 1870s and being one today. There is the unique drama of living in a sort of satellite USA, either on a military base or in the American Embassy community abroad. Army spouses form fast friendships and are forced to rely on each other when there are so few cultural touchstones or friends and family nearby. These relationships become even more vital when their spouses are unreachable for… show more.

I loved this book enough to read it twice. In fact, felt compelled to read it twice because of Connell’s amazing portrayal of Custer and dozens of other figures, both American and Native American, both well-known and obscure.

The battle of the Little Bighorn lasted only a few hours but had an amazing impact, and Connell tells the story with remarkable originality.     

This dual-biography has the best description of Custer’s death ever written. Of course, no one knows exactly what happened, and that sense of mystery is one of the reasons it has become part of American lore. But master historian Stephen Ambrose uses the available evidence to speculate in a few beautifully written paragraphs what brought Custer to his legendary defeat and how he might have reacted to it in his last moments. The comparative stories of Custer and Crazy Horse leading to the battle is a fast-paced tale that will make you keep turning pages, forgetting you know how it will end. But the book is more than fine writing. The dual-biography format is the perfect vehicle for Ambrose to explain the clash of cultures that led to tragic conflict.