I was a misbegotten child of World War II, my father an anonymous stranger on a train returning to war, thus setting me in search of an answer. While driving through rural France one day in my sixth decade I realized I'd been searching for my father through writing, and an understanding of his experience in war. My seventh decade produced Dutch Children of African American Liberators, with co-author Mieke Kirkels, about the puzzling lives of the European children of African American soldiers of World War II. As I got to its final chapters, my own father’s identity was revealed to me through DNA, and that will be the subject of my final book.
Eventually, my travels to understand and write about the times in which I had been born took me to the Auschwitz concentration camp near Krakow, then to its source in Berlin and some excellent walking tours into the heart of its lights and shadows – which is much of the world of Philip Kerr’s fictional Bernie Gunther. A 1930s Berlin detective, Bernie must navigate the attempt to maintain a humanity that is both moral and faulted in a time of brutality and absurdity over the course of fifteen novels that will puzzle through the human dilemma of World War II Europe. Field Gray, which ranges from the Spanish Flu epidemic of World War I to the corruption of 1950s Cuba is perhaps the most comprehensive of the series.
'One of the greatest anti-heroes ever written' LEE CHILD
'A man doesn't work for his enemies unless he has little choice in the matter.'
So says Bernie Gunther. It is 1954 and Bernie is in Cuba. Tiring of his increasingly dangerous work spying on Meyer Lansky, Bernie acquires a boat and a beautiful companion and quits the island. But the US Navy has other ideas, and soon he finds himself in a place with which he is all too familiar - a prison cell. After exhaustive questioning, he is flown back to Berlin and yet another prison cell with a…
I’ve always been a voracious reader of the news and history, consuming everything from Johnny Tremain to Slaughterhouse-Five, from old-fashioned newspapers to online news feeds. I’ve also always loved writing fiction. I aligned my interests in history, the news, and writing in my first novel, The Blood Lie, based on a hate crime in my hometown in the 1920s. Since then, I’ve written two other novels based on true events: Ripped Away and my novel, listed below.
This vivid YA novel about the impact of the Spanish influenza pandemic in 1918 holds a special place in my heart. The uncle I never knew died in that pandemic at age nine, and my mother was the “replacement baby” three years later.
So, I guess you could say I owe my existence to that pandemic. Beyond this personal attachment to the subject, I loved the deft portrayal of the main character’s internal turmoil: she wants to help the sick, but she doesn’t want to get sick herself.
I think anyone who lived through the worst of the Covid-19 pandemic can relate. I know I do.
Schools, churches, and theaters shut down. The entire city is thrust into survival mode-and into a panic. Headstrong and foolish, seventeen-year-old Cleo is determined to ride out the pandemic in the comfort of her own home, rather than in her quarantined boarding school dorms. But when the Red Cross pleads for volunteers, she can't ignore the call. As Cleo struggles to navigate the world around her, she is surprised by how much she finds herself caring about near-strangers. Strangers like Edmund, a handsome medical student and war vet. Strangers who could be gone tomorrow. And as the bodies begin to…
Fiction has a way of capturing people, places, and phenomena that often elude source-bound historians. As I say in my book, you feel the weight of all the terrible things Colonel Kurtz has done in central Africa far more by his whispering “the horror, the horror” than I, as a historian, could possibly convey by listing them out and analyzing them. That feel–especially what contingency feels like–is something historians should seek out and try to pull into their craft of writing. Getting used to and using fiction to help historians see and feel the past is a worthwhile endeavor.
Another Melville and another unusual one. Melville died broke and mostly forgotten. Lewis Mumford, a now mostly forgotten literary critic, is largely responsible for resuscitating Melville’s reputation in the early 20th century.
Sachs, an environmental historian who can really write, has penned a very unconventional, twinned biography of Melville and Mumford–the chapters go from one to the other, a style that takes some getting used to–that explores what it was about Melville’s dark vision of human nature, climate change, and capitalism that spoke to Mumford, and what it has to say to us.
Finalist for the National Book Critics Circle Award in Biography
A double portrait of two of America's most influential writers that reveals the surprising connections between them-and their uncanny relevance to our age of crisis
Up from the Depths tells the interconnected stories of two of the most important writers in American history-the novelist and poet Herman Melville (1819-1891) and one of his earliest biographers, the literary critic and historian Lewis Mumford (1895-1990). Deftly cutting back and forth between the writers, Aaron Sachs reveals the surprising resonances between their lives, work, and troubled times-and their uncanny relevance in our own…
I’ve always loved stories that rearrange reality in some simple, allusive way, including movies like Groundhog Day or The Truman Show. They remind me of a quote about Italo Calvino that I first read when I was a teenager and have loved ever since: ‘He holds a mirror up to life, then writes about the mirror.’ I tend not to be attracted to stories that simply depict reality and even less so to stories that completely abandon reality for an invented fantasy world. All my favorite fictions take place somewhere in between, in the blending of the real and the impossible.
It always seemed unfair to me that not only do we get just one life, but we only get to live it once. So I fell in love with this novel from the moment I read its premise: Ursula Todd is born and dies and is born again… and again… and again.
I love that she doesn’t remember her previous lives except as vague intuitions that help her avoid making the same mistakes twice–and I also love that avoiding those mistakes often means she makes other (often fatal) mistakes. I found this book funny, moving, and thought-provoking, but what I love most about it is the way its down-to-earth, realistic style allowed me to fully inhabit the impossible conceit at its heart.
What if you could live again and again, until you got it right?
On a cold and snowy night in 1910, Ursula Todd is born to an English banker and his wife. She dies before she can draw her first breath. On that same cold and snowy night, Ursula Todd is born, lets out a lusty wail, and embarks upon a life that will be, to say the least, unusual. For as she grows, she also dies, repeatedly, in a variety of ways, while the young century marches on towards its second cataclysmic world war.
This is a book that I loved for its ambition, cleverness, great writing, and its occasional humour.
The novel tells the story of the life of Virginia Woolf’s husband, Leonard, and at the same time relates the story of a woman called Alice during the COVID pandemic who is writing a story of the life of Leonard Woolf. The title comes from Leonard Woolf’s description of sexual love – this devastating fever – but the novel is far more than this, including major events such as the COVID epidemic, Spanish influenza, life prior to World War 1, and the threat of climate change.
This breadth of vision is lightened by the ‘front’ story that includes amusing exchanges between Alice and her agent.
Sometimes you need to go deep into the past, to make sense of the present.
Alice had not expected to spend the first twenty years of the twenty-first century writing about Leonard Woolf. When she stood on Morell Bridge watching fireworks explode from the rooftops of Melbourne at the start of a new millennium, she had only two thoughts. One was: the fireworks are better in Sydney. The other was: was the world's technology about to crash down around her? The world's technology did not crash. But there were worse disasters to come: Environmental collapse. The return of fascism. Wars.…
I find Plagues to be fascinating, especially having lived through COVID-19 (with masks and distancing and fear of catching an unknown sickness!). The Plague of London in 1665 especially interests me because it brings in the well-known character of The Plague Doctor. This iconic character is feared and admired (and still a very popular Halloween costume). I have done extensive research on the 1665 Plague in terms of how it affected food insecurity, homelessness, fear, trade routes, employment, and the different classes of a community.
I think this book is for advanced middle-grade or even on the lower end of middle grade. I found it to be chocked full of facts, history, and information about deadly diseases. I think fans of “scary” kids’ (aka Bendy, Five Nights at Freddy’s, Haunted Canada) books will appreciate the real-life terrors of real-life diseases.
Perfect for young readers of I Survived and the Who Was series! Packed with graphics, photos, and facts for curious minds, this is a gripping look at pandemics through the ages.
The deadly outbreak of plague known as the Great Mortality, which struck Europe in the mid 1300s and raged for four centuries, wiped out more than 25 million people in the course of just two years. With its vicious onslaught, life changed for millions of people almost instantaneously.
Deadly pandemics have always been a part of life, from the Great Mortality of the Middle Ages, to the Spanish Influenza…
I love immigrant stories. This story begins with a young man who trains in medical school in Chicago but longs to serve in a small town.
Dr. Pierre Sartor was new in a small Iowa town 100 years ago when the influenza pandemic broke out. He forged a partnership with what is now Mayo Clinic, which was beneficial his entire career. Dr. Sartor's box of treasures was passed to his son, who later gave it to his daughter, setting her on an exciting journey of discovery for Dr. Pierre Sartor's granddaughter.
It is an important chapter in Iowa history, medical history, and of a well-loved Iowa country doctor who had immigrated from Luxembourg.
Maintain isolation – practice good hygiene – wear a mask – be kind. We all know these methods of fighting COVID-19, but this prescription comes from the 1918 experience of Dr. Pierre Sartor, who battled the worldwide influenza pandemic in his small town of Titonka, Iowa.
Dr. Sartor wrote an inspiring first-person account of how he treated more than 1,000 patients – and by his reckoning, lost only five – which lay forgotten in a lockbox of family artifacts until it was discovered decades later by his granddaughter, Beth Obermeyer, a journalist and author of three previous books. Beth knew…
As a critical care doctor, I love pausing when taking care of patients in a modern ICU to reflect on how far we’ve come in the care we can provide. I want to be entertained while learning about the past, and so I seek out books on medical history that find the wonder and the beauty (and the bizarre and chilling) and make it come alive. I get excited when medical history can be shared in a way that isn’t dry, or academic. These books all do that for me and capture some part of that crazy journey through time.
Awakenings is the novel-length true story of the patients comatose for decades from sleeping-sickness, a disease that reared its head in the 1920s and then died out.
I consider Oliver Sacks the master storyteller of medical mysteries, and he kept me completely riveted with his descriptions of watching these patients wake up when given the drug L-Dopa, re-entering the world after many decades. The story gives me chills every time I think about it.
'The story of a disease that plunged its victims into a prison of viscous time, and the drug that catapulted them out of it' - Guardian
Hailed as a medical classic, and the subject of a major feature film as well as radio and stage plays and various TV documentaries, Awakenings by Oliver Sacks is the extraordinary account of a group of twenty patients.
Rendered catatonic by the sleeping-sickness epidemic that swept the world just after the First World War, all twenty had spent forty years in hospital: motionless and speechless; aware of the world around them, but exhibiting no…
Historical crime fiction writer Maureen Jennings is best known for her 1890s-era Detective Murdoch Mysteries, on which the Murdoch Mysteries TV series (now in its 17th season) is based.
In recent years, Jennings’ focus has been on Toronto in the late 1930s, when the world was still reeling from the War to End All Wars and in the throes of the Great Depression. The result was the Paradise Café series: Heat Wave, published in 2019, November Rain in 2020, and Cold Snap in 2022.
The settings of these mysteries are not pretty, describing the poverty and simmering racial tensions of the times. But Jennings brings the past of the city I live in to life, and I find it fascinating.
In Cold Snap, we learn more about private investigator Charlotte Frayne, the series’ protagonist. In her early 30s, unmarried and with a beau who approves of her independence, Charlotte is…
November's rain in Toronto 1936 has turned into December's cold snap. Charlotte Frayne escapes being hit by a mud-splattered car racing round the corner at Queen and Spadina. The stranger who saves her turns out to be the man her boss, Mr. Gilmore, has helped to escape Germany and is now a refugee in need of shelter.
In a world still recovering from the War to End All Wars and the Spanish Influenza pandemic that killed fifty million people worldwide, and still in the throes of the Great Depression, Stephen Lucas is not just any refugee from the Nazi regime;…
My passion for this topic dates back to my childhood and being impressed by the scary diseases and unhygienic toilets that were part of my family lore. I grew up to be a historian of medicine, which allowed me to indulge my interest in deadly diseases—at a safe historical distance! That curiosity led me to write the Gospel of Germs, a history of popular understandings of the germ theory of disease. Post-COVID, I am thinking about how to get ready for the next big pandemic that climate change and globalization will likely throw at us: will it be bird flu, dengue, mpox, or some new COVID variant?
Of the many books I’ve read about the 1918-1919 influenza pandemic, I especially love this one because Spinney takes a global perspective on the pandemic. Too often the Great Influenza gets narrated only as an Euro-American disaster linked to WWI.
Spinney enthralls by adding the rest of the world—China, India, Africa, and Latin America—to the pandemic mix. Her description of how the flu found Mohandas Gandhi (aka the Mahatma) in his ashram is fascinating.
Read the devastating story of the Spanish flu - the twentieth century's greatest killer - and discover what it can teach us about the current Covid-19 pandemic.
'Both a saga of tragedies and a detective story... Pale Rider is not just an excavation but a reimagining of the past' Guardian
With a death toll of between 50 and 100 million people and a global reach, the Spanish flu of 1918-1920 was the greatest human disaster, not only of the twentieth century, but possibly in all of recorded history. And yet, in our popular conception it exists largely as a footnote…
