100 books like Gravestones of Early New England and the Men Who Made Them

This book is densely illustrated (I’d guess that about three-quarters of the 430 8”x10” pages of the main text are filled with images). This was what first led me to travel to New England to see these stones for myself, which I did six years later.

This combination of rich art and Puritan values should challenge anyone’s assumptions about early American sensibilities.

The Tashjians’ book challenged the idea that Puritans rejected visual art. Their study is important in documenting a new aesthetic, where the skull (death’s head) gives way to the winged faces of angels (cherubs), which were more gentle and sentimental in style rather than dark and threatening. Specific stonecutters discussed in this book include John Bull, William Codner, Zerrubbabel Collins, William Young, Henry Christian Geyer, Joseph Lamson and his shop, William Mumford, John Stevens and family, and Jonathan and Moses Worster. These are names well-known to anyone versed in this art form.

I was taken by the fact that new motifs in gravestone design could spread through the stonecutter community with such personalized innovations and styles. Further, in chapter 8: "The Icons of Essex," County provided a contrast with another style of cutting faces in stone. This book significantly broadened my view of stonecutting styles in New England. It also… show more.

The first volume of my book focused on Boston, Plymouth County, and Cape Cod. Benes’ study was essential for providing a larger context for my own account of the stonecutters of this locale. He relied on an analysis of over 4000 gravestones in over 100 burial grounds. He prodded the neophyte (like myself at the time) into considering the more symbolic elements of gravestones, including the perception that headstones and footstones represented the headboards and footboards of the beds in which the deceased were “sleeping.”

His book provided a much-needed reminder of the subtle religious symbolism found on all of these old monuments. Plymouth and Barnstable Counties are particularly important for understanding the stonecutters' business practices and design repertoires in this region of Massachusetts. 

This initial volume provides detailed accounts (with photographs) of classical, early Boston carvers, as well as the Emmes family of carvers, John Gaud (1693-1750) (who worked in both Boston and Connecticut), Ebenezer Howard (1734-?), and James Wilder (1741-1794) of Lancaster. It is a perfect start for anyone wanting to explore the subject in actual field trips–focusing on its earliest masters. There is also a second volume, which includes a cumulative index for both volumes. Five of the six chapters of Volume II focus on major stonecutters in Groton, Salem, Essex County, and Boston.

I wish Chase and Gabel’s first volume had appeared before my first visit to the area so that I would have been better prepared to examine the work of the early Boston carvers, the Park family carvers, James Ford, and Levy Maxey–all of whom I discovered later. These two books together provide probably the closest thing to… show more.

A ground-breaking work, which demonstrates how the theoretical witch was embodied by real women, and how a seemingly bizarre fantasy was plausible in among the shapes and rhythms of daily life. This influential study is as much a social, economic and cultural history of seventeenth-century New England as it is strictly speaking a history of witchcraft – indeed, Karlsen demonstrates clearly that the latter cannot be assimilated with an appreciation of the former. Context is everything, and without it we just fall back on stereotypes and tired assumptions.

Witches and neighbours were two-sides of the same coin, the former a projection of the hostile emotions of the latter, and, as Karlsen explains, this fraught relationship was fundamentally gendered. To appreciate how some people were accused of witchcraft, we need first to explore relationships between people in the community, including relations between women. Honour, reputation, age, status and so on, were… show more.

Running was magic to Kathrine Switzer. But she grew up in a time when most people thought women were too fragile to run a race, especially a 26.2-mile marathon. The illustrations are vibrant and the text well-written, with a “Pat, Pat, Pat” refrain which expands as Kathrine runs faster and faster. The story revolves around how Kathrine entered the Boston Marathon in 1967 when it was a race for men only. She was almost stopped during the race by an angry Race Director, who also believed women should not run a marathon. Kathrine persevered and finished! Since 2008, more than 10,000 women have officially entered to run the Boston Marathon. 

When the Robertsons bought their 18th-century home in Hampton, Ct., they inherited an unparalleled lode of documents assembled over 100 years of the previous owners’ history. Starting in the 1790s, the Traintors saved, it seems, every bit of paper that came through their hands: from private letters and business accounts, to pamphlets, social invitations, school records, and, of course books. The Robertsons spent years digesting this remarkable trove. In this book, they “open out” the evidence – as Laurel Ulrich did for Martha Ballard’s diary – in a way that transforms it into a moving and deeply intimate story of family life and community change in a small New England town. I found their tale – told often in the Taintors’ own words – to be vivid, immediate, a surprisingly frank, personal, and moving story.

Pitkin writes in a very accessible style. What drew me into this book, in particular, is that he starts the book off with a personal experience. He writes of the incident that turned him from a skeptic into a believer in the paranormal. Intriguing stuff, to be sure ... but this revelation also changed his attitude towards teaching, making him more tolerant of other cultures, and more open to sharing different worldviews with his students. Whereas prior to this experience, he had been dismissive of what he saw as "primitive" beliefs (regarding African belief in witchcraft and the afterlife), he was now more willing to explore alternative belief systems with his students.

This is one of the nonfiction books I read as a teenager that convinced me to become a professional writer. The author, Sebastian Junger, doesn’t just describe the titular storm (which hit the U.S. East Coast in 1991) in terrifying detail—he also manages to assemble all of the weather-driven chaos into a real, gripping narrative. We don’t know a lot about what actually happened to the Andrea Gail, the fishing boat at the center of the narrative, but Junger recreates its final hours in a way that feels bracingly real—and heartbreaking.

Even if you don’t like nonfiction books, The Perfect Storm has the pacing and heart of a novel. I consider it one of the finest—maybe the finest—disaster narrative ever written, and it’s a perfect choice of book if you’re trapped inside by a raging storm.

This slender novel marks the debut of California author Jason DeWitt and it’s a stunner.

The Patient is a creepy, clever horror story that I lost sleep over because I couldn’t put it down. It’s the tale of a young psychiatrist at a dreary asylum in New England, who, against everyone’s urgent advice, decides to take a crack at curing an “incurable” patient. 

What he learns about that patient – and the shocking climax that results – may give you nightmares, but it’s well worth the ride.