In the Kingdom of Ice: The Grand & Terrible Polar Voyage of the USS Jeanette

by Hampton Sides. 5 stars.

Since reading The Worst Journey in the World a few years ago I’ve been fascinated by explorers, particularly those venturing into the polar regions. Where Scott and his men were attempting to reach the South Pole, In The Kingdom of Ice is concerned with the other side of the world and takes place in the previous century, at a time when it was believed that once you broke through the ice around the Bering Strait you’d follow warm currents into a warm, open sea around a temperate Pole. 

Unfortunately for the USS Jeanette and her men, they were soon to discover that this was very far from the case.

A non-fiction book that reads like a thriller (which was no doubt helped by the fact that I hadn’t the first clue about this expedition or its outcome) I read this book in two sittings, huddled under a duvet and tearing through the pages long into the night as the ship became first trapped in ice (for over a bleeding year!) and then sank, leaving her men stranded in the Arctic with no hope of rescue. 

The sheer determination it must have taken for them not to have given up there and then is unimaginable to me – and that’s even before the attempts to try and cross the ocean, then Siberia, in the hopes of stumbling across salvation. That anyone made it back at all is astonishing. That someone then went back in the hopes of finding those still missing is truly astounding.

I take my hat off to all of the incredible people in our history who have taken on such incredible feats, and to the people who write about them and let me experience (albeit from the comfort and safety of my living room) even a little of their magnificence.

The Inheritance of Rome, by Chris Wickham

3 stars

Covering a whopping great 600 years of history, it's small wonder that this book took two months to read. Whilst some of that was at least partially the fault of my daily life becoming increasingly demanding and therefore not yielding up half as much reading time as I'd had before, it's also due to the staggering amount of information imparted. 

Taking us from the fall of the Roman Empire up until the year 1000 and the so-called 'Feudal Revolution', this took in the post Roman States and cultures that grew out of this fall, including looks at the Visigoths, the Vandals, the Vikings, the Merovingians and Carolingians, as well many more that I'd never even heard of before. Examining tax systems, religions, economies and exchange systems, iconography and much, much more, it seems that Chris Wickham left no stone unturned when writing this book. The only thing really missing is much on what life was like for the unpowerful (other than probably rather hard), thanks to the dearth of evidence on this aspect of life as contemporary chroniclers couldn't have given two shits about their lives and preferred to concentrate on the kings and other noblemen that were constantly blinding one another (apparently a preferred way of eliminating rivals for centuries, thanks to a commonly held belief that a ruler should be 'whole').

The jumping around in time and place, along with the lack of any real common narrative drive sometimes helped to hinder my progress as I found myself having to concentrate far more on all of the incidental facts and opinions presented in order to make them stick (as it is, I'd still be hard pushed to tell you anything I learned with any sort of specificity, and would probably be reduced to statements like 'the Vandals were well lairy', and 'aristocrats have always been a complete shower of shits'), but it certainly succeeded in helping me to decide which groups I'm interested in reading more on (that'll be all the ones beginning with the letter V).

Isabella: She-Wolf of France, Queen of England

by Alison Weir - 3 stars

When it comes to my historical education, I’m finding myself drawn again and again to Alison Weir, who has a real talent for making lives led long ago pulse with real vitality. In this outing she sets out to not only tell us about the life and times of Isabella, one of our most notorious queens, but to rehabilitate her image. She’s not entirely successful – while she succeeds in imparting a lot of information on this deeply interesting woman, I didn’t feel that the rehabilitation part went so well. 

Long thought of as one of history’s femmes fatale thanks to overthrowing her husband, King Edward II, and making her lover unofficial ruler of England, Weir seeks to paint Isabella as a woman trapped by circumstance and a victim to her times, whereas I saw her as an enormous hypocrite with an insatiable lust for wealth and power, whose tyranny and corruption equalled (if not dwarfed) her husband’s. Whether or not she was involved in Edward’s death (Weir thinks not – and in fact also points to evidence that Ed wasn’t murdered at all but fled abroad and was later even possibly reunited with Edward III) didn’t affect my opinion anywhere near as much as her blatant grabbing of lands, wealth and titles for herself and Roger Mortimer (disinheriting people wherever needed) and I also felt that Weir was actually guilty of double standards; the very offences that Edward is guilty of – excessive lavishing of wealth, power and titles to his favourites and turning a blind eye to their crimes (which were indeed many) – and for which he is condemned within the book are the very same crimes that Isabella is guilty of, only in the latter case Weir shifts the blame from Isabella to Mortimer. 

In my book, if Ed was responsible for the excesses of his favourites and deserved deposition for it, so did Isabella. In fact, I feel that by shifting the responsibility from her to Mortimer, she’s actually being robbed of her agency. Whilst I am well aware that women in the 14th century were the property of men, I find it hard to believe that a woman who managed to overthrow the reign of her husband was entirely at the mercy of and a victim to the whims her lover, when he only wielded the power that he did through her. The fact that she didn’t even attempt to curb his behaviour and continued to lavish more wealth and power upon him – even joining him in bullying her son, the young King Edward III, into compliance with his wishes – shows me that she wasn’t a helpless victim but a partner-in-crime. None of this makes Isabella any less interesting in my eyes, in fact it makes her more so, and I’d rather have seen Weir revel in her bad behaviour than try to whitewash it.

Contrary to what seem to have been Weir’s intentions, I also felt incredibly sorry for Edward II. It’s believed his relationships with his favourites, Piers Gaveston and Hugh Le Despenser, were homosexual in nature (many of the chroniclers of the time made allusions to this, and generally whipped themselves into such a froth that I can only believe that, like modern homophobes, they secretly got off on imagining in great detail the ‘wicked and forbidden sex’ that they thought Ed was having). If this was indeed the case, it must have been unimaginably awful for him to live in a society where homosexuality was viewed as such a vile sin that its practitioners faced a brutal death, complete with their genitals being cut off (while they were still alive) and thrown to the dogs (as was the case with Le Despenser). If anything, the only thing that I feel Ed was guilty of here was appalling taste in men (he seemed to have a thing for bad boys. But then, who doesn’t?)

With regard to everything else, once again I was struck by how our country has always been prey to the whims of the ruling class, who have always been an insanely greedy, duplicitous, ruthless and vicious shower of shits loyal only to their own wallets and ambition. I doubt this will change over the next 1000 years, either.

So, in conclusion, whilst I enjoyed this book enormously (anything that can teach me so much in such a short space of time has to be applauded), I felt that it failed in its stated aim, hence the 3 stars.

Killer Clown, by Terry Sullivan

3 stars

Proof that you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, inside the shrieking, tabloid style cover of Killer Clown lies a sober account of the investigation into and prosecution of John Wayne Gacy for the murders of at least 33 young men and boys. Co-written by Terry Sullivan, a State Attorney who was involved in the case from the very beginning when the case simply appeared to be the disappearance of 15 year old Robert Piest, he then lead the investigation which eventually saw the recovery of the bodies of Gacy’s victims (26 of which were discovered in the crawl space beneath his home), before serving as a member of the prosecution team at his trial.

Clear and precise (no doubt thanks to Sullivan’s experience in front of juries), we get lots of information on legalities such as what to specify in search warrants to ensure that any evidence recovered is admissible in court, the painful process of retrieving records pre-computers, how to make someone think they can’t leave a police station without ever actually detaining them, the effects of constant, overt surveillance on both the surveillance teams and the suspect, the bizarre behaviour exhibited by a manipulator who thinks he’s far cleverer than he actually is, and the legal chess games played by both sides (Gacy would first try (and fail) to exhibit signs of multiple personality disorder, and then his legal team attempt to have him found not guilty by reason of insanity - he’d apparently been temporarily insane on 33 different occasions, slipping back out of insanity once the murders were committed and the bodies buried, alternatively they would also claim that the deaths were 33 cases of accidental auto-erotic asphyxiation. Thankfully, the jury decided this was all bullshit.)

Mr Sullivan thankfully isn’t interested in trying to put you into the victims’ shoes or into the mind of the killer, thereby saving the material from becoming too harrowing and upsetting (if that’s what you’re after, trying listening to Sufjan Stevens’ John Wayne Gacy Jr instead) and instead presents a clear and detailed illustration of the work that goes into trying to catch and put away terrifying people. 

The Wars of the Roses, by Alison Weir

5 stars

Well that was fan-FLIPPING-TASTIC! I've just received over 400 pages of the most vivid, fascinating and comprehensive education on the Wars of the Roses at the hands of Alison Weir, that cleared up one of my big misconceptions (I was under the impression that the Yorks were the usurpers, but nooo!) and well and truly plugged the big gaping hole that formed my knowledge of one of the most turbulent times to ever rock the English Crown. And due to the way in which it was delivered - playing up the many personalities that made up the squabbling noble factions concerned (including a wealth of deeply interesting and formidable women, about whom I'd love to learn more) and reading far more like a deadly thriller than a history book, I could easily cane those pages all over again. I'm already looking forward to starting The Princes in the Tower as soon as I possibly can before going on an Alison Weir themed spending/lending splurge.

So, what did I learn? If you don’t have the time or the inclination to read 400 pages, then read on for my…ahem “summary” of events (this could take some time, so settle in).

***SPOILER ALERT (CAN YOU HAVE SPOILERS WITH HISTORY?)***

Lasting more than thirty years, the Wars of the Roses were actually two wars - the first between Lancaster and York which spanned around 16 years, and a later, much shorter war between York and Tudor that resulted in the birth of one of the most successful dynasties to have ever ruled. The roots of all this trouble are traced here back to the rule of Edward III and his many heirs. Old Ed was a rather fertile man, having 13 children (not an unusually high number for the time) including five sons that grew to maturity. Marrying them off to heiresses, Ed would create the first ever English dukedoms for them, thereby also creating the 'magnates' who made up English nobility and were related to the royal line by blood, whose descendants would go on to cause the deaths of thousands in their fights for the Crown.

Ed's eldest son, The Black Prince, would die before Ed himself leaving his 9 year old son Richard as Ed's heir. Richard II wouldn't be a particularly brilliant king, as having been crowned at such a young age he'd had a long time in which to become incredibly self-important, extravagant and ostentatious while also being unstable and bearing grudges against any who dared criticise him (apparently even once having to be physically restrained from running the Archbishop of Canterbury through with a sword). Politically clumsy, he lavished honours, lands and wealth on his favourites, particularly one Robert de Vere (who was suspected of being his lover), dismaying many nobles - particularly Henry of Bolingbroke, Richard's cousin and the eldest son of old Ed III's third son, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster.

Henry allied himself in opposition to the King's favourites and soon found himself exiled by the increasingly tyrannical Richard. Not stopping there, on the death of Henry's fabulously wealthy father Richard would also decide to allocate that inheritance to himself, pissing Henry off enormously and setting the stage for a confrontation. Returning to England and immediately setting about removing as many of Richard's advisors heads as possible while Richard's soldiers got busy deserting, Henry would soon take Richard prisoner and torture him into abdicating the throne and, conveniently forgetting the heirs of old Ed III's second son, Lionel (through which the York's would later have the better claim to the throne), be proclaimed King Henry IV, setting the dangerous precedent whereby pesky laws of succession wouldn't matter half so much as whoever could win a scrap (with most believing that winning a battle meant God wanted you to be King).

Henry soon discovered that seizing a throne wasn't half as hard as holding onto the bloody thing and his reign was dogged by constant tensions and rebellions, and certainly wasn't helped by the murder...sorry, 'voluntary starvation' of Richard who would become far more popular in death than he ever was in life. By the time the many rebellions had been put down in the latter part of his rule, Henry was suffering from increasing ill health and eventually collapsed and died while on a visit to Westminster Abbey. Surprisingly, given all of the rebellions against his father, his eldest son Henry of Monmouth would succeed him unchallenged to the throne.

Long fawned over by historians for being a great medieval king (i.e. he burnt lots of heretics and was extremely a particularly ruthless and brutal killer on the battlefield, especially of the French, which made him wildly popular with the English of the time) Henry V would also see a few rebellions along the same lines of those against his father, but as well as being extremely good at putting these down (and putting people off having any other rebellious ideas by chaining up and slowly roasting those who did) by this point people had become used to the Lancaster dynasty and didn't feel much inclined towards a change. Until he died, leaving behind a depleted treasury (having dragged the crown into bankruptcy through the long war with France), a bunch of nobles squabbling over whether the war should be continued, and a nine month old heir.

To govern through Henry VI's minority (childhood) a regency government was established in the form of a Council dominated by his squabbling uncles, the Dukes of Gloucester and Bedford. Meanwhile, Lionel's heir the Earl of March dies leaving his vast inheritance (and better claim to the throne) to his nephew Richard, also known as the Duke of York. This inheritance is initially 'sequestered' (i.e. nicked) by the crown, but he's allowed it back when he reaches his majority - for a hefty fee, of course. He's not, however, allowed a place on the Council due to the potential threat he poses to the throne and is instead placed firmly out of the way overseeing English affairs in France which aren't going too well, the French having rejected the treaty which entitled Henry VI to their throne. He'll have to finance this himself, despite promises of the crown meeting his expenses (sounds just like work now!), an early showing of the sort of treatment seemingly designed to provoke and insult him as much as possible - not the sort of behaviour that keeps a powerful potential threat on-side.

On reaching 16, Henry declares himself of age and takes finally takes control of the crown, and immediately shows himself to be spectacularly unsuited to kingship. Weak and inexperienced, naive and gullible, Henry's excessive generosity to his relatives and the many grasping and self-interested nobles surrounding him combined with his inability to stand up to anyone, his excessive piety and his mental instability to weaken him even further. Probably inherited from his mother, Katherine of Valois (daughter of the mad French king Charles VI, there's easily another book that I'd love to read on Katherine's life alone), from early manhood Henry suffered from depressive episodes, sometimes even lapsing into catatonic states. Not only inept when ruling, Henry was often therefore also completely incapable of it.

Despite being little better than a monk when it came to women, Henry married Margaret of Anjou (who made up in beauty and formidability what she lacked in a dowry) and quickly made the situation much worse. Already despised for being French (and for Henry secretly agreeing to give away lands in France in exchange for her hand) Margaret would soon be making most of her husband's decisions for him as he retreated further into his own world of prayer and meditation. Which wouldn't have been quite so bad if she hadn't completely misunderstood (or not given a shit about) the many prejudices of the English and frequently given their enemies advantageous deals, while also being rather corrupt and lavishly rewarding her highly unpopular favourites while insulting those like the Duke of York, who'd effectively beggared himself for the English cause in France only to see the money and reinforcements he was owed being diverted to the incompetent and the grasping. Yet more dukedoms are created for favourites, rivalry between court factions becomes ever more intense, and law and order declines as a blind eye is turned to misbehaving nobles doing whatever they want and people critical of the King's policies, like the Duke of Gloucester, are murdered...sorry, 'die of natural causes' (which were probably being smothered between mattresses).

Eventually, York has had enough and returns to England set on getting the king separated from his awful advisors. Having married Cecily Neville, his thirteen children (which include Edward, George and Richard, later to become famous themselves) are descended thrice over from Ed III, illustrating just how inbred the whole nobility was while also resulting in a much better claim to the throne than Henry's, but for now York is simply eager to reform the regime and promotes himself as a champion of good government, gaining himself much popularity amongst the commons and the enmity of Margaret who treats him more and more like an enemy, eventually succeeding in making him one.

Having become bankrupt, the crown now finds Parliament unwilling to raise any more taxes to pay their debts and fund the ongoing war with France (especially if Henry is busy secretly giving much of what was won back again) and rebellions start to spring up. While proclaiming all traitors will be arrested, Henry flees for Greenwich leaving the Bishop of Salisbury and various other hated nobles to be hacked apart by the people, although Henry's troops will eventually prevail (though not before many of them have also mutinied and run riot through London). A furious York initially evades armed forces sent to arrest him and confronts a terrified Henry in his apartment, who placates him with a position on his Council. But refusing to learn from his mistakes, Henry (Margaret) immediately gets back to losing yet more lands in France and promoting his (her) cronies into positions of power and influence. York prevails, however, when the King lapses into another catatonic state during which Prince Edward is born. Influenced by York, the Council decide they won't recognise him as heir unless Henry - currently completely incapable of doing so - recognises him first and the first of many insinuations is made as to Edward's paternity. A regency government is clearly needed, for which Margaret makes a determined bid but is beaten by York, who is elected by Parliament as Protector of the Realm.

The first thing he does is to order the Queen to withdraw to Windsor which she's not then allowed to leave, before deposing and ordering the arrest of some of her most corrupt favourites and starting to sort out the Crown's finances. At which point Henry promptly recovers and immediately returns everything to the way it was, prompting a backlash against York and his supporters. While the Queen busily whips up Lancastrian support and intercepts York's letters to the king protesting his loyalty, York ignores a royal summons and with his allies Salisbury and Warwick (one of the most wealthy and powerful men in the land) whips up an army and marches to London. The war is on.

The Battle of St Albans resulted in hundreds of deaths and even Henry (who would spend battles sat on his horse under his banner, watching from a distance) getting an arrow in the neck. While he'd survived, the resounding York victory meant that while he was assured by York of his continued loyalty, his apparent subsequent breakdown would see York once again effectively ruling England and for the next few years York and the Queen would vie for control of the King, with York instituting reforms and recovering crown lands that had been given away to favourites only for them to be repealed and returned whenever Margaret had the reins. 

Until the Queen tries to have York's powerful and charismatic ally Warwick murdered, raising tensions and armies. The Yorkists respond with a propaganda campaign, accusing her of tyranny and once again calling into question the paternity of Prince Edward, and there’s an armed confrontation during which York's men are overawed at the sight of the tens of thousands arrayed against them and desert, leaving York and his allies to flee to Calais. With her enemies out of the way in France, Margaret returns to ruling in whichever way she sees fit - which is badly. An English public grown sick of Lancastrian misrule prove highly receptive to the propaganda still being spread, clearing the way for a Yorkist invasion which is given a warm welcome in the cities they travel through (though this is hardly surprising, as it seems most of the commons would cheer for whoever came through their city heavily armed, rather than getting stabbed). 

Another battle, notable for the treachery of nobles switching sides part way through, would result in another York victory and Queen Margaret fleeing to Scotland while Henry is captured. This time though, York would submit the genealogy showing his better claim to Parliament and an Act of Accord is passed naming him heir apparent to the throne and Protector of England. An enraged Margaret raises another army and even invites a foreign one to join her (England's hated neighbours, the Scots), scoring a victory with the deaths of York and his eldest son Edmund in the midst of a battle, their bodies mutilated and their decapitated heads adorned with paper crowns. 

Her triumph wouldn't last long however, as York's claim to the throne had now passed to his eldest remaining son, Edward, who would score a resounding victory at the subsequent and spectacularly bloody Battle of Mortimer’s Cross. The Queen's retreating army robbed, raped and burned their way back across the country with so many atrocities being reported that even staunch Lancastrians start to switch sides, before surprising Warwick at St Albans, killing another few thousand and rescuing Henry from under guard. Meanwhile, Edward races to London where he receives a rapturous welcome (naturally, he is at the head of an army after all), is proclaimed King Edward IV and hailed as the restoration of the true royal line.

It's not a done deal yet though, and with Margaret and her army still haunting the north Edward's army meets the Lancastrians in battle once more. This time the combined armies would number around 2 per cent of the English population at the time, and the resulting Battle of Towton would be the longest, largest and most important battle in the Wars of the Roses. Taking place in the middle of a thick blizzard (and brilliantly recreated in the book), the battle would end with the Lancasters fleeing back to Scotland and as many as 40,000 dead, the ground stained with so much gore that the battleground would shortly become known as The Bloody Meadow.

Now firmly ensconced on the throne, Ed proves to be a much firmer ruler than Henry had been, overhauling and reforming the Council and putting down the continued raids of the Lancasters. When not dealing with matters of state Ed gives himself over to pleasure, becoming notorious for seducing and then abandoning young ladies and presiding over an extravagant court, but powerful marriage alliances between France or Burgundy are scuppered when it turns out he's secretly married a commoner - Elizabeth Wydville, a Lancastrian widow and former lady-in-waiting to Margaret. Having cannily refused to become the love-struck Ed's mistress, the ambitious and greedy Liz wasted no time in promoting her entire family into positions and marriages of wealth and influence, setting up a whole new wave of jealousy between court factions. Meanwhile Margaret, having worn out her welcome with the Scots, starts intriguing with the French while Henry is captured once again and taken to London Tower. It's at around this time that the powerful (and power-hungry) Warwick, having been alienated from Ed by the rapid promotion of the Wydvilles, starts plotting with Ed's equally ambitious brother George to depose Ed and put George on the throne. The old troubles start again as feuding factions, high taxation and the corrupt practices of York favourites lead to outbreaks of violence and frequent uprisings, before Warwick announces his intentions to save the king from evil influence and promptly gives the royal army a royal kicking.

Warwick takes Ed prisoner and attempts to rule in his name, although he's roundly ignored by everyone and soon has no choice but to free him once more. Warwick won't be put off though, and through the intercession of King Louis in France switches his allegiance to the Lancasters. Another invasion is launched.

Once again the invaders find themselves welcomed with open arms by the people of the cities they ride through (that’ll be those swords again) and their forces soon swell to nearly 60,000 men, including many of Ed's deserting army, and Ed has no choice but to flee for Calais. Henry is liberated and restored to the throne, although he's now little more than Warwick's puppet. Another massive army is raised when Ed returns to England and more scraps ensue, resulting in another race to London for the winner to be proclaimed king. Ed gets there first, where Henry is handed over to him by the Archbishop, and then he's off to confront Warwick again who still has an army three times larger, complete with newly invented handguns. They don't matter much though as in the midst of the confusion of battle Warwick's own troops start mistakenly attacking one another, and Warwick is killed while attempting to flee.

With barely any time to rest, Ed is soon facing off against another army - Margaret's (in which the now of age Prince Edward, Henry's son, is seeing active service for the first time). This battle will see Prince Edward dying along with the hopes of the House of Lancaster, with the finishing touch delivered via the murder…sorry, ‘dying of excessive melancholy’ of Henry in the Tower (probably at the hands of Ed's brother Richard). And with that the Wars of the Roses was finally brought to a close, leaving the Lancaster dynasty shattered, thousands of men dead (Margaret herself would eventually die in great poverty in France) and a great many fortunes vanished. Edward would rule over England for a few more years, before his sudden death left his two young sons at the mercies of their Uncle Richard. 

But that's a whole other book…

Stiff - The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers

by Mary Roach, 4 stars.

You’d be forgiven for thinking that, after dying, there were only a few things that might happen to your cadaver; it could decay in a box six feet under, get burnt and scattered somewhere you loved, or (if you’re a shut-in like me) it could lie undiscovered in your flat for months, providing nourishment for your hungry cats. It turns out that your vacated body has far more options than that. Stiff takes us through the many and varied career options for cadavers, as well as some of those that are thankfully no longer in vogue, in a funny and informative book that gave me plenty of fuel for thought.

Whether it be providing a practical opportunity for surgeons to practice their skills, helping the field of criminal forensics perfect methods of detection and investigation, providing realistic but unfeeling test dummies for safety measures – whether in cars or for troops in battle – or even as human compost, there’s a whole world of good that can be done with your body once you’re no longer using it. There’s also no end of disturbing things that used to be done (and some that still are) such as the examples in the crucifixion experiments, the corpse as medicine, and reanimation.

As for me, I’ve never particularly cared what happened once I’m dead, but having now been given a few options other than the traditional I’ve changed my mind. Much as I wouldn’t torch a house that I’d moved out of so that others could get some use out of it, I now feel the same way about my body. I’ve long been on the Organ Donor Register (if anything’s still working, have at it) and I now quite fancy the idea of advancing the scientific cause in other ways –if I had my way I’d be one of those empty shells lying on a hillside somewhere as scientists check my larvae levels in the hopes an accurate time of death would catch a future psycho. Failing that, I’d also be happy with a spot of human composting, providing fertile ground for some lovely plants to grow from.

If you’re the sort of person who finds phrases like larvae levels and skin slippage stomach-churning you might have a harder time reading this than I did (considering that I’ll vomit if I so much as touch butter, I have a surprisingly strong stomach when it comes to this sort of material), but I guarantee you’ll come away with enough food for thought of your own to make it worthwhile.

Wizard, by Marc Seifer

3.5 stars

Wizard is the extremely comprehensive biography of possibly one of the most interesting men to have ever lived, a man so cool they had to get David Bowie to play him – Nikola Tesla.

Before we begin, I should probably make it clear that while I am fascinated by science and the great thinkers that practice it, my mind does not work in that way at all (I only passed my Science GCSE after my mum condensed pretty much the entire syllabus into a series of silly cartoons a few days before my exams) and so the title of this book is made even more appropriate. My only real understanding of electricity being that when I flip a switch, my lights come on (when the bulbs haven't gone), it really may as well be magic as far as I'm concerned.

So, Nikola Tesla...

Look at him. See? Told you he was cool.

A genius with a talent for invention as well as for winding up his investors and a great showman whose incredible lightning spewing demonstrations would capture the public imagination before his grandiose pronouncements and appetite for self-publicity saw him later dismissed as something of a crank unable to finish a project, Tesla would invent many of the things we take for granted in the modern world whilst also contributing to many more. He would also be eternally screwed over and in debt, his work credited to and making others rich, his achievements only properly recognised long after his death. 

Born in Smiljan in 1856 to a gifted family (particularly his mum, who was forever inventing new household appliances for herself) and possessing a photographic memory, Tesla was already far more accomplished by the time he'd left University than most of us could hope to be in a lifetime, having taken courses in arithmetic and analytical geometry, theoretical and experimental physics, integral calculus, analytical chemistry, mineralogy, machinery construction, botany, wave theory, optics, philosophy and higher maths, and speaking 8 languages. He’d also survived several near death experiences including plunging into boiling milk, drowning under a raft, being swept over waterfall, contracting cholera, and driving himself through overwork into a nervous collapse – something he would continue to do throughout his lifetime as he subsisted on bread and milk, sleeping only a few hours a night and pouring all of his energies into his work.

Moving to the US in 1884 to work for Thomas Edison’s company, Tesla would set out on his own after almost immediately receiving the first of many shaftings at Edison’s hands – being paid just $18 a day to redesign and reassemble much of the company’s equipment after having been promised $50,000. These shaftings would also continue throughout his life, and were as many and varied as his astounding array of inventions (which included an induction motor, electrical power distribution system, fluorescent and neon lights, wireless telecommunication, remote control, robotics and apparently even fricking laser beams) and came at the hands of not just Edison but the likes of Marconi, Westinghouse, Pupin, Steinmetz, JP Morgan and the US Government.

Facing a publicity backlash due to Edison’s dickish publicity campaign in which he electrocuted animals with Tesla’s competing AC system, mired in patent infringements and court battles, and forever toadying up to potential investors (mostly unsuccessfully, thanks to his habit of sending long letters bemoaning his hard luck and full of emotional blackmail, while asking for way more funds having abandoned agreed plans in favour of altogether grander schemes), Tesla would become far more paranoid, bitter and reclusive over time, allowing the weirder aspects of his personality free reign.

Amongst his many peculiarities were: an aversion to women's earrings and touching people’s hair, being sent into fits at the sight of pearls and fevers at the sight of a peach, insisting on living in hotels despite an almost pathological inability to pay his rent, where his mirrors must be draped and no sunlight must enter his room. And despite being a favourite of the ladies (especially of his friend’s wife, Mrs Katherine Johnson), he remained celibate – having eyes only for his work and, well, I’ll let him tell you: 

“I have been feeding pigeons, thousands of them for years. But there was one, a beautiful bird, pure white with light grey tips on its wings; that one was different. It was a female. I had only to wish and call her and she would come flying to me. I loved that pigeon as a man loves a woman, and she loved me. As long as I had her, my life had purpose."

Tesla passed away at the age of 86, having outlived his pigeon, sending various secret agencies into frenzies as they tried to suppress his papers and get their hands on a rumoured death ray machine, Tesla having supposedly left a working model in a hotel basement in lieu of rent.

As a reading experience, due to the staggering amount of information imparted I sometimes struggled with Wizard - especially as much of it was highly technical information. This, coupled with the authors insistence on flying off on tangents and flitting around in time, meant that I often spent entire chunks completely befuddled and bewildered. But I still learned everything I could possibly want to know about one of the most interesting people to have ever lived, so I'm not going to hold too much against it.

And in case you're wondering, I'm firmly on the Tesla side of this rap battle:

iPhone/iPad click here

Too long, didn't read: Drunk History Volume 6 - Nikola Tesla

Pavement, by Richard Butchins

4 stars

Usually, when picking up a book with murder on its mind it tends to be of the maverick-cop-with-problematic-personal-life-hunts-demented-but-brilliant-psychopath-in-a-deadly-game-of-cat-and-mouse variety. This isn’t that kind of book. Instead, we’re trying for something altogether more interesting. 

Set in a dystopian world that’s almost exactly our own, just with society given an extra nudge in the direction it’s already travelling, our nameless protagonist pounds the pavements of London, rendered invisible and embittered by poverty and disability. With everything and everyone around him only serving to fuel his hatred, along with vivid dreams dripping with blood, he soon seeks to separate himself from society entirely and puts into play his plans of murder. 

Not feeling like a voice I’ve heard before, Mr Butchins captured that of an obsessive misanthrope extremely well (I wonder if he actually went out and counted all those paving slabs?), complete with some fantastically black stabs of comedy. He also has a wonderful way with words when it comes to description with the passages on Charing Cross, Blackfriars and HMS Belfast being my favourites, and I’d have liked to have seen even more of these flourishes. 

As the book progresses and our protagonist murders without consequence (unless you count visions of dead prostitutes as consequences) some of the dream sequences started to feel ever so slightly repetitive, though this may be as I was more interested in what was happening outside of those dreams (I also hesitate to call them this, as it’s hard to say for sure whether those waking moments weren’t also fantasy). I also picked up a few misprints and small mistakes in my copy – but these are small errors easily fixed with another pass by a beady-eyed editor. 

In all, this was an interesting book that held my attention even when my kittens were running all over me – no mean feat! – and Richard Butchins is the owner of a voice that doesn’t sound like anyone else's, and one which I look forward to seeing him develop.

* I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Necropolis: London and Its Dead

by Catharine Arnold - 5 stars

A fascinating look at how London has dealt with its dead through the ages, taking us from the Pagans and Romans, through the Middle Ages and the Victorians, up until modern times, and taking in numerous plagues and epidemics, a few fires and two World Wars, the death of Lady Di and the London bombings, while moving from outside the city, into its heart and then back out again. 

Informative, astonishing, gruesome and revealing, this book nearly managed to outdo my record of how many times I could turn to Nik with a "Listen to this!" - I think he was being bothered at least once a page (although he'd probably say it felt like more. He was trying to watch football, after all).

Whether it be the charnel houses with their decorative skeletal chandeliers, the boisterous medieval graveyards and their town centre on a Saturday night atmosphere (complete with heavy drinking, fighting and regular deaths), the putrescent Victorian burial yards that actually killed the living, the drunken gravediggers, the exploding coffins and the showers of remains, the embalmed wives on display in living rooms...

...or the brides making 'grave clothes' for their potential future children, each page was bursting with jaw-dropping and frequently stomach-turning facts.

Gladstone is quoted within: "Show me the manner in which a nation cares for its dead, and I will measure with mathematical exactness, the tender mercies of its people, their loyalty to high ideals, and their regard for the laws of the land."

In that case, Arnold shows us here that we don't have an awful lot to be proud of.

Monsters Live In Ordinary People, by Heidi Strengell

3.5 stars

For as long as I can remember I've been one of Stephen King's Constant Readers. A habit started early - my mum was once called to my primary school (pre-11's, for the non-Brits among us) during Reading Week to be asked if she knew I was reading Pet Semetary (she did) - it's a habit that's stuck with me into adulthood.

I was bought this book a couple of years ago (thanks, Is!) and, as is my wont, I've been dangling it in front of myself like a carrot, having wanted to read everything of his that I could before getting stuck in (and therefore avoiding spoilers). Goodreads now tells me that, having read 33 of his books (really? Bloody hell) Stephen King is my most-read author. However, at the pace I've been getting through them it would still be a number of years before I get to read this if I stick to my own rules and so I've decided to stuff them, and dive in now.

A rather academic and scholarly look at the huge body of King's work (particularly, but not limited to The Stand, The Shining, Salem's Lot, It and The Dark Tower series), his influences, style, themes and characters, and particularly focusing on the blend of genres that mark his work, this one's probably not for the layman but the serious fan, with the emphasis on serious.

Interesting and at times insightful, even when I didn't agree with it, the most interesting bits for me were usually when quoting King himself, and the biggest things I've taken away from this are that I probably shouldn't read any criticism by some fellow named Bloom (who provides the most scathing critiques on King and then goes on to call Anne Rice sadistic and tedious - them's fighting words!) and that I now really, really want to read Danse Macabre.

(Sort of, but not really) Four Past Midnight

Whenever I sit down to review a book I do it in the company of my cat, Eric, who usually plonks himself firmly on the keyboard in front of me or, more usually, evicts me from the chair entirely so that I’m left attempting to type while kneeling in front of the desk as he stretches out on the chair.

Stephen King has his Constant Reader, and for nearly twelve years now this little dude has been my Constant Companion:

I spend most of the time I’m not working at home, and rather a lot of that time reading. As with everything else, Eric reads with me - by which I mean tries to sit on my book/kindle, before curling up in my lap and letting me cuddle him whenever I’m reading something sad or scary, huffing long-suffering sighs whenever I feel the need to yell at a book (which is surprisingly often) and giving me reminding pats whenever I’ve become so engrossed in something that I’ve forgotten that I’m supposed to be tickling his chin.

As usual, Eric read most of this book with me. Actually four novellas – The Langoliers, Secret Window, Secret Garden, The Library Policeman and The Sun Dog – I think Eric would agree that this book is a solid 3. Each novella has a great premise although some worked more than others in their execution, and I found that King’s endings struggled a little to live up to what had preceded them.

In The Langoliers, a handful of sleeping passengers awake mid-flight to find everyone else (including the pilots) have disappeared, leaving no trace but their bags and wallets, fillings and pacemakers behind (although not their clothes, something which would bug me for the rest of the novella, for some reason). Luckily for them, they happen to have another pilot on board as well as a blind girl with a sixth sense and a mystery writer who constantly explains what’s happening to everybody.

In Secret Window, Secret Garden another writer with a serious sleep habit is visited by a stranger accusing him of plagiarism. Unfortunately this one was marred somewhat by my realising early on that our protagonist was suffering from a case of the Tyler Durden’s, making the twist ending not so twisty.

The Library Policeman starts well as Sam Peebles borrows some books from the library, only to find out what happens when you forget to return your books on time or – worse still – lose them. This one was going brilliantly until Sam had a chat Dirty Dave who then took a giant information dump over the next few chapters, having clearly never heard of the ‘show, don’t tell’ rule.

The last novella, The Sun Dog, sees Kevin Delevan given a Polaroid camera for his 15th birthday. Except every photo the camera takes is of a mean-looking dog, getting slightly closer with each click. This one was easily the most effective for me, which was probably helped by it being a welcome return to Castle Rock.

Immediately after finishing this book we went looking for Eric - it was nearly his tea-time and, unusually, he wasn’t already hanging around waiting for it. We found him in one of his favourite spots - curled up on a pile of his dad's jumpers. He’d sloped off for a kip, but this time there would be no head bumps and slow stretches before demanding his tea. While I’d been reading of the Sun Dog’s entry into Kevin Delevan’s world, our little monkeyface had left ours.

I’ve tried to review this book properly for the past couple of days, if only to distract me, but it’s proven impossible to do anything without thinking of him so instead you’re left with this, and I’m left to miss my little ginger prince.

Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe

3 stars

Every now and then I come to the realisation that I've once again fallen down a paranormal/fantasy hole, and so try and widen my reading a little. It's those times that I turn to the lists - in particular 1000 Books To Read Before You Die, and the Times 100 Greatest. It's these lists that led me to this book.

Shining a light on the traditions, customs and culture of a Nigerian village through telling the story of Okonkwo - a proud and respected man of high standing - and the destruction of said culture through the arrival of Christian missionaries, this wasn't always an easy book to read although I really enjoyed the way in which it was told.

Written in a way that made me feel that I was listening to it rather than reading, I found seeing every day village life to be an effective way of learning about a culture I'd normally not have any real exposure to, even as I found myself disliking our protagonist and being upset or angered by some of traditions and customs of the village (such as the treatment of women and the violence against children frequently advocated by the mad bitch in the cave Oracle).

Seeing the changes wrought by the missionaries whilst experiencing Okonkwo's feelings towards them made me better able to appreciate how deeply such a culture clash would run as well as how helpless the potential flock would feel in the face of such changes (I'm personally of the opinion that believing in one particular god or another doesn't make anyone any more or less of a shit. Every religion has its assholes, as well as practices that can either upset or wind me up, depending on my mood).

I really didn't like Okonkwo though...

Nineteen Seventy Four, by David Peace

3 stars

Well...that was bloody grim.

Eddie Dunford is the crime reporter for the Yorkshire Evening Post when a little girl is found brutally murdered with swan's wings stitched into her back, and his colleague, chasing a story on corruption involving prominent local businessmen and public figures, winds up dead.

Chasing the link between the two, Dunford is soon drawn ever deeper into a brutal and corrupt work of casual racism and violence, in which children wind up dead and their murderers protected, a brutal police force acts as heavies for private interests, and absolutely nobody is clean.

Incredibly bleak and depressing, I nonetheless found this compelling, especially once I had an opportunity to read uninterrupted for longer than 10 minutes, and the stream of consciousness written style, which I'd initially found jarring, worked more for me as the story progressed and Dunford became increasingly desperate. However, this approach also meant that the climax left with with a slightly vague notion of who had done what and why, although it's entirely possible that that's more my fault than the author's.

I will come back to see how this quartet progresses, but it'll definitely be after I've dabbled in the shallower, lighter end for a while...

Eleanor of Aquitaine, by Alison Weir

4 stars

When I was at school, I was under the impression that history was dreadfully boring and stuffy and loathed most of my lessons. However, having since been bitten by the history bug thanks to watching Horrible Histories and becoming completely obsessed with Hilary Mantel's Thomas Cromwell, I now lay all of the blame for that firmly at the feet of my teacher, who must have been completely inept to have made our history sound so dreary. I've now decided to embark on a bit of an odyssey through as much of our history as I can get my hands on, and if this book on Eleanor of Aquitaine is anything to go by, it should be more action-packed and full of more skullduggery, sex and murder than your average HBO show.

While there is a scarcity of surviving sources of evidence on Eleanor herself, Weir did a great job of detective work and clearly undertook lots of painstaking research to be able to complile a deeply interesting and very readable account of a woman who seemed to defy certain expectations and constraints placed upon women in her time and managed to be ambitious, influential, scandalous and powerful; Queen of two countries and mother of 10 children - a greedy, squabbling, treacherous and murderous bunch of shits, rapists and assholes that make the Lannisters look like the Waltons.

Here's what I learnt:

Born in 1122 into a Europe that was largely feudal, and carved out according to the military might of various nobles, Eleanor became one of the richest and most sought-after heiresses in mediaeval Europe on her father's death and, regardless of their consanguinity (i.e., being related), was soon married to the sensitive and pious Louis VII of France. Having hailed from a slightly more enlightened area in which women could inherit and govern their lands in their own right, she was soon wielding her influence over her adoring husband, much to the dismay of the clergy who'd much rather be doing the influencing and who sought successfully to curb her power. Relegated to the sphere of the domestic and married to a man so religious he barely bonked even after marriage, deeming it sinful, Eleanor was soon scandalising the French court by flirting with the many troubadours who flocked to pay her tribute.

Possibly as another means of escaping the boredom of court, when Louis decided to go on his disastrous Crusade, Eleanor chose to go with him. Unfortunately for Louis, he turned out to be a rubbish military leader with his army not only frequently deserting, but with several thousand dying of plague and starvation and 3,000 more converting to the Muslim faith. Seeking refuge with Eleanor's uncle in Antioch, it wasn't long before she and her uncle were showing signs of a relationship that wasn't strictly familial, leading her to declare her marriage consanguineous after all and demanding an annulment, and to Louis arresting her and dragging her home by force. However, following the birth of a second daughter, Louis started to agree (because God must be angry if you're just having girls, seeing as they're completely rubbish and unimportant, and only useful as future marriage pawns).

Louis' fate was truly sealed when the then Count Henry of Anjou came to pay homage for his lands of Normandy and, though 18 to Eleanor's 29, and though they were just as consanguineous as she and Louis, and though Henry's dad had already slept with her, Eleanor was prompted to speed up her annulment and, dodging the many suitors hoping to abduct and marry her by force, flee into the arms of Henry, taking with her almost half the lands of France and ensuring Henry instantly became the most powerful ruler in Europe.

Considered one of the greatest rulers of mediaeval Europe, Henry of Anjou was soon Henry II of England, and Eleanor his Queen. And though he kept a far tighter rein on her than her ex-husband ever managed, she would spend much of the time that Henry was absent from his kingdom acting as his regent, and travelling astonishing distances through the realm whipping up support, raising funds and keeping the unruly vassals of her land in hand. Little mention is then made of Eleanor for decades in official records of the time while Henry squabbled with Louis on the continent, wrangling over land and taking girls hostage for future marriages - until she gets troublesome.

With the legendary charm of the Angevins, Henry put it about quite a bit - and not only with his wife, being father to loads of bastards. Having herself borne him eight children, Eleanor seems to have turned a blind eye up until after the murder of Thomas Becket, when she started cosying up to yet another Uncle (uncles were apparently catnip to mediaeval ladies) and, finally, initiated a separation with Henry. From now on they'd be living apart, with Eleanor governing certain lands in Henry's name. Taking her very favourite son, Richard, with her, Eleanor rules wisely and well over her vassals but Henry's decision to carve his empire between his surviving boys - Henry, Richard, Geoffrey and John - will be one of the worst decisions he's ever made and the frequent dickering over entitlements will turn them and their mother against him, prompting many rebellions and uprisings and causing the boys to constantly run off to Louis and his successor, Philip, causing far more trouble than he'd ever got off France alone.

Every single one of Henry and Eleanor's sons seemed to more than live up to the family legend - "from the Devil they came and to the Devil they'll return", all being slippery, ruthless, inconstant, arrogant, ambitious, smooth-talking hypocrites with nasty tempers and a prediliction for rape (especially Richard, who "carried off wives, daughters and kinswomen of his freemen by force, and made them his concubines, and when he had sated his lust on them, he handed them over to his knights for whoring" and John, from whom "not a woman was spared if he was seized by the desire to defile her in the heat of his lust")

An indulgent mother who spoilt her sons (especially Richard, whom she idolised), Eleanor sided with them against Henry, who would spend the rest of his reign uncovering their plots, skirmishing with them and their French allies, and trying to hang on to his empire while appeasing their demands and imprisoning their mother for the best part of a decade, eventually having their marriage annulled on grounds of consanguinity (there it is again, the best mediaeval excuse for being sick of your spouse). All the while, Henry is schtupping Richard's fiance, Alys of France, and postponing his son's marriage so she can have more of his bastards, sending France into frenzies.

When Henry (the eldest son - the Young King) is killed, Richard becomes undisputed heir but John becomes the elder Henry's favourite. He's soon trying to give him parts of Richard's inheritance and continuing to postpone Alys's marriage, which goes down as well as you'd now expect and causes Richard to stomp off to his new best friend, Philip of France (Louis' successor) and take the Cross. Falling ill while trying to negotiate yet another truce, when Henry finds out that his new favourite John has also been plotting he loses the will to live, leaving Richard as King of England.

Instantly freeing his beloved mother, Eleanor was soon wielding her influence over her son and helping him to rule his empire galloping here, there and everywhere to keep his unruly vassals in hand and whipping up support and funds for his Crusade, as well as putting a stop for now and forever to his proposed marriage to Alys. A stranger to England (and only spending 10 months here throughout his reign) which Richard only seems to have seen as a giant cash machine to bleed dry in support of his constant warfare, Eleanor was instrumental in keeping his empire under control in his absence. With John seizing the opportunity to ride about the country courting the favour of common folk, telling people Richard would never return and plotting with Philip (Richard's former BFF, with whom he'd been scrapping ever since becoming King), Eleanor seemed to spend most of her time dashing from one end of the kingdom to the other, cleaning up the messes made by her shitty sons and trying to keep John under control. 

When Richard was taken hostage while returning from his Crusade, she repeatedly had a go at the Pope for his lack of intercession and somehow managed to raise the ridiculous ransom demanded (bleeding the country dry, yet again) and secured her son's return. John wisely decided to keep a low profile on Richard's return, who continued to scrap intermittently with Philip and was eventually shot with an arrow while besieging a castle, dying with his mother at his side.

John's coronation doesn't see the whole sorry saga come to a peaceful end, and Eleanor now takes up politicking on his behalf. Casting off his old wife (that dratted consanguinity again) John steals another man's 13 year old fiance who he then spends most of his time in bed with, ignoring threats from Philip and his ward, Arthur, who also has a claim to the English throne. Having to rush to Eleanor's side when her castle is besieged by Arthur, whom he takes prisoner, he makes matters even worse by his appalling treatment of his prisoners, and the apparent murder of the young Arthur. Retreating back to bed with his child-bride, he can't be bothered to rouse himself when Philip takes most of his domains and finally, at the age of 82, Eleanor dies having outlived most of her children and having seen the kingdom she helped her husbands and sons maintain virtually given away.

Phew! Makes A Game of Thrones look like Watch With Mother, doesn't it?

Cracking stuff, I'll be returning to Alison Weir often.