January's Book: The Poisoner's Handbook

The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum

Journalism (2010 - 278 pp.)

The Poisoner's Handbook takes the reader to the earliest incarnation of public health in New York City, from the creation of the Chief Medical Examiner's office, to Prohibition and its related ills, to a number of high-profile criminal cases. Interspersed with the human interest stories are vivid descriptions of the various elements and compounds used as poisons, each with at least one chapter named for it. The more I read, the more I felt like this was an eerie book to be reading during a pandemic.

Blum is a professor of science journalism, not a historian, so The Poisoner's Handbook reads more like a series of true crime stories* than like an academic monograph. This presentation style keeps the book reading as quickly as an airport novel while being more interesting and far more educational. Journalistic flourishes follow characters' presumed inner thoughts or scenes where their capers may have been set; the quasi-biography of Charles Norris, NYC's first Chief Medical Examiner, reads like a Lost Generation novel: "He left for home with mist gathering on the river behind him and the cobalt sky of evening deepening to black." (223) The sensational retelling of the infamous Ruth Snyder case, which I had heard of before reading, is accompanied by the photo of her in the electric chair. (165-174)

Norris weaves in and out of the book's loose storyline. The originally political position of coroner had attracted such incompetence and turnover that Norris was horrified at the laziness in pronouncement of deaths: "But 'more than probable' was hardly a professional opinion, Norris said." (35) Norris pioneered the meticulous tracking of causes of death at a time when medical examiners were extremely sloppy, to the point that Frederic Mors, a poisoner working in an old-age home, was able to stuff the residents full of chloroform almost completely undetected. (25) If NYC started the 20th century in dire straits, though, Blum makes sure to let the reader know how persistently Norris sought his goals: "But full-time leisure didn't suit Norris. He was happiest with a cause to fight for, a challenge to overcome." (221) This was even so when he expressed difficulty gathering $10 of public funding and a city car; the idea of a Chief Medical Examiner not having use of a car would be unthinkable to us now.

More exotic poisons like cyanide and thallium make later appearances. Most cyanide deaths were either suicide or accident, including hydrogen cyanide gas leaks during fumigations. One high-profile gas leak killed a couple staying in a hotel that was being fumigated. Thallium is a stunning element, bright, leafy green when exposed in a chemical test, but did not appear to be used as a frequent murder weapon, despite being "colorless, odorless, and tasteless." (254)

While the mercury and radium chapters are interesting for the science nerds in all of us, they don't contain much crime. Neither appears to be practical as a murder weapon; mercury is too obvious, and radium takes too long. Arsenic, by contrast, was such an early favourite among murderers that Alexander Gettler, the Hungarian-American scientist responsible for much of the Chief Medical Examiner's early research, devoted much to his time to arsenic testing, such as in the murder of Charles Avery. (94-96) The Mary Creighton conviction, for murder committed by way of Rough on Rats, brought arsenic into the spotlight again.

One thing that surprised me was the book's almost complete lack of mention of Calvin Coolidge, who surfaces only once. (124) "The federal government" as an entity is discussed plenty, and then Herbert Hoover is discussed in particular, calling Prohibition "the noble experiment"** before ducking to the Belgian embassy for a glass of wine. (157) I emerged from The Poisoner's Handbook having no clue what Silent Cal thought of Prohibition, although his mild opposition toward it is not very exciting subject matter. Blum may have simply thought the wood-alcohol-induced death of Mike Malloy was more entertaining subject matter - and she would probably be right.

A criticism any historical book is known to receive is, "How is this applicable in the present day?" Although history and its offshoots contain more contemporary usefulness than the cynics among us suspect, in The Poisoner's Handbook, the usefulness faces the reader head-on. The chapter on carbon monoxide poisoning includes in-depth descriptions of poisoning symptoms, which are invariably useful in a world full of smoke detectors. Prohibition, in turn, caused an uptick in contaminated goods, sometimes intentionally on the parts of governments; this is analogous to the whopping 91% contamination rate among illegal opioids in British Columbia. What is amazing to us now is that Prohibition was a largely bipartisan effort, with the House of Representatives vote coming down with essentially two-thirds support on each side. It would have been nice to see bipartisanism for more productive pursuits than Prohibition, but hey, at least Canada's prime minister and premiers coordinated their pandemic responses and electric vehicle strategy somewhat.

2020 was the first year in recent memory when I didn't get to go to the United States, thanks to the pandemic and the related emergency orders. As someone who hasn't been to NYC since 2011, it was nice to go there in spirit.

Ease of Reading: 8

Educational Content: 8

*See, for example, Erik Larson's Devil in the White City, Richard Zacks's Island of Vice, or Max Haines's True Crime Stories.

**I suppose this is the inspiration for The Noble Experiment winery in Ontario. It's a fun name, but understandably tongue-in-cheek, as I doubt local winemakers consider Prohibition to be noble at all.

Bonus Book! Master of the Five Magics

Happy New Year 2021! Here's one last entry for this crazy 2020. What better than a classic fantasy novel with a pop culture twist? More metaphysical thoughts can wait until January.

----

Master of the Five Magics by Lyndon Hardy

Fantasy (1980* - 397 pp.)

Lyndon Hardy's Master of the Five Magics is a buried gem: first published by Del Rey in 1980, fallen out of print despite having a substantial following, only to finally see its second edition unearthed in 2016. Its hero, Alodar, is the son of disgraced nobles who proves himself in all five arts - thaumaturgy, alchemy, magic, sorcery, wizardry - to become the leading suitor to Queen Vendora. Unlike the trope of a quest being forced on a reluctant hero, Alodar is so proactive the other characters frequently attempt to stop him from achieving his goals for his own safety - but Alodar is determined.

Hardy's explanations of the five magics, what identifies and differentiates them, and how Alodar learns them, could be the subject of a trilogy.** Each of the book's first five parts is named after a magic art Alodar learns, until the final part, "The Archimage",*** which explains what Alodar has become by learning all of them. Only through using  the five magics, plus whatever other tools Alodar has at his disposal, can he repel a demonic invasion that comes closer and closer as the story advances. Hardy has broken down all six parts, 18th-century style, into chapters so short it is almost impossible to finish reading one without starting the next. 

The maxims of the magics are reflections of the difficulty Alodar has learning them. For example, when Cedric the Warmaster challenges Alodar to reproduce an alchemical potion, Alodar explains that "Using exactly the same ingredients in the same formulas does not necessarily produce identical results". (102) Sorcery's emphasis on removing the mind from the body is invaluable in a way other genres, like science fiction or any genre involving mysticism, would involve without any attempt at magic. Through the clues Alodar receives, in the form of a magic script, orbs and an artifact, he progresses through these lessons, much like a gentleman scientist learning sequentially more difficult areas of math.

The language in Master of the Five Magics is intentionally archaic, making the book surprisingly difficult to read at times yet in a way that fits the story perfectly. As Alodar finds understanding of the story his life tells, the reads finds understanding of the story Hardy writes. A line like "Thinking more rapidly than he thought possible, he worked the equations to produce four non-equivalent variations" (212) explains the workings of magic (including magic squares) well, but is tiring to read after a while. This is in stark contrast to the action scenes, which Hardy zips like an action movie, making me wish this were a movie. In "The Thaumaturge", Alodar and Aeriel have to escape a ruined castle: "Alodar's muscles tensed. His breathing turned to shallow gasps. Run, run, take the only chance that you have, his body said." (65) This may not seem like the most heroic passage, but much of the book consists of Alodar being humbled into greatness. Once Alodar has learned all five magics, he must battle demons: "Lightning flashed. Deafening thunder cracked through the air. As Handar reached Alodar's side, a cloudlet formed over the blaze." (317) Then there is the final battle, which is the highlight of the book, but who would dare spoil that?

Master of the Five Magics' enduring influence on pop culture extended into the '90s. In 1990, Megadeth released "Five Magics", a song blatantly based on the book, with certain changes made as artistically warranted:

In addition to this song, which made the rounds on my teenage-era CD players too many times to count, there's the enduring influence on Magic: the Gathering. Richard Garfield repeatedly cited Hardy as the inspiration for having five colours of mana, five different magics, in Magic. That paradigm has persisted to this day. You can see the colour wheel, of five different colours (magics), on every single card:

The lag in securing the second edition is one of the book's faults. Hardy had to self-publish it; I do not know who his editor was, but there are a few typographical errors (e.g.: "Aeriel" clearly autocorrected to "Aerial") and the Wikipedia links in the glossary are islands. The Times New Roman text reads like it came straight from Microsoft Word. The cover has a basic Microsoft Word font on it. By contrast, the cover of the first edition looks like what Master of the Five Magics is: the dawn of the classic '80s fantasy novel. On the plus side, the back matter contains an interview with Hardy in which he explains his thought process behind the creation of the laws of the magic, a novel concept for the time. It's like listening to a Venom album: while the source material is good, you know the best was yet to come.

Now for a lyric from "Five Magics" that may sum up Master of the Five Magics without spoiling it:

Magic if you please

Master all of these

Bring him to his knees

Ease of Reading: 6

Educational Content: 2

*I am reviewing the 2016 edition, but the original release date remains important considering the influence the book had.

**There were two later books with different characters and the same magic system, but they are largely forgotten. The point is that the subject matter of Master of the Five Magics could have easily filled three books.

***In order:

"The Thaumaturge" 

"The Alchemist" 

"The Magician" 

"The Sorcerer" 

"The Wizard" 

"The Archimage" 

Merry Christmas 2020 with an Album to Show!

Merry Christmas 2020!

It's been a trying year, but here are a few of Toronto's greatest shots, all courtesy of me: https://myalbum.com/album/4ACpSvxmseGY

Arguably the most iconic. Casa Loma on March 5, 2020, less than two weeks before the city would see an unprecedented lockdown.

Which is your favourite picture?

December's Book: 4 3 2 1

4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster

Fantasy (2017 - 866 pp.)

Astoundingly, 4 3 2 1 is the first novel by Paul Auster I've discussed on this blog, and the first of his I've read in fifteen years. After being assigned his fantastic 1987 dystopian novel In the Country of Last Things as an undergraduate English student in 2005, and recommending it ever since, I somehow managed to evade the rest of his lengthy literary career until now. Why, I have no idea. Whereas In the Country of Last Things reminds me of 1984 and Brave New World, 4 3 2 1 reads more like Barney's Version. For an author to have that breadth of writing, from the chillingly dark to the heartwarmingly hilarious, is almost unheard of.

4 3 2 1 begins on Ellis Island, as so many stories of American immigrant families do. Auster's invented family, ex-Russian-Empire Jews who eventually land in New York City and New Jersey, resemble so many other families of the first half of the twentieth century... until Archie Ferguson* comes along. From that point, 4 3 2 1 follows four different paths Archie's life could have taken, from his birth on March 3, 1947** until the dawn of the 1970s. From a topsy-turvy childhood in the 1950s, to growing into LBJ/Vietnam-era political activism in the 1960s, Archie develops as a writer and student, sometime lover of various people,*** and conflicted family member, in four distinctly different ways.

Slotting 4 3 2 1 into a genre is of considerable difficulty. If you accept that there is some sort of multiverse theory at work, it is arguably science fiction. If you handwave the reasoning behind the different lives, it can be Night Circus-style low fantasy. If you truly do not care why Archie has these four storylines but simply enjoy Auster's sharp sense of humour, 4 3 2 1 is pure comedy.

Archie's timelines go back to the age-old question we all ask at various points in our lives: if I had made an important life decision differently, who would I be now? Archie's circumstances and decisions change drastically, from whether Amy Schneiderman is his girlfriend, his friend, or neither; which school he attends (Princeton or Columbia: not a bad set of options!); or even something as monumental as the duration of his young life. As I have explained using a decision tree, this is an insightful way to craft a character, seeing through the eyes of who that person could have become at any given time. Auster dumps four of those stories on the table, providing the hook for 4 3 2 1, making the reader think back to so many important life events. Like many a New York City-based writer, Archie never becomes a Republican: is this real life writing the plot?

4 3 2 1's best scenes are dramatic, comedic, or both. Auster packs 47 years of Ferguson family history/lore into the introduction, (1-29) which comprises the first 3.35% of the book; some of 4 3 2 1's most charming moments, all squashed together. Auster's description of a young Archie braving a rainstorm at Camp Paradise is one of the best uses of pathetic fallacy - a lightning strike - I have read in recent years. (184) Archie's early literary forays are described in detail, some with excerpts, such as the cute "Sole Mates", but the most all-encompassing is "Right, Left, or Straight Ahead?" (492) In that story, the protagonist Lazlo Flute takes three different paths at a key crossroad, much like Archie does in 4 3 2 1, much like Archie's writing (he's always a writer) is so drastically different in his four storylines. On a less introspective note, college humour takes the form of Archie and his roommate creating fictional character tennis matches, which, naturally, descends into a Dick Diver joke, (586) as 1930s fiction wasn't that old in the late '60s.

For all its emotional directions, 4 3 2 1 drags. It clocks in at an estimated 320,885 words, making it approximately thrice the length of a typical book in its genre. Its 866 pages move quickly, but Archie's girlfriends in different timelines often blur together, making the reader pause to wonder whether all their lovers from ages 19-22 were really just different varieties of student. When the storylines share common events, notably the political tumult of the 1960s, two of those storylines become almost interchangeable.^ Then there is the interminable obsession with sex: I don't recall my teens and early twenties being dominated by sexual thoughts, so is this simply how Archie sees himself? Lastly, the ending is unsatisfying, which after that much inkshed^^ feels as though the reader is being robbed. Without spoiling the book, the ending is abrupt, at an age when Archie's story is just beginning, and contains a "gotcha!" moment that arguably changes the book's genre.

How would I finish this entry? Ikh hob fargessen!^^^

Ease of Reading: 6

Educational Content: 2

*They are Jewish and their last name is Ferguson. This is explained in detail in the book.

**Paul Auster was born on February 3, 1947. The vividness of the current events discussion in 4 3 2 1 lends credence to the idea that, even if the book isn't semi-autobiographical, Auster was very much inspired by the events of his youth.

***Exactly who Archie loves depends on the storyline.

^I am not alone in this observation. On Goodreads, one reader went so far as to use four different-coloured Post-It notes for the four storylines.

^^Like bloodshed but with ink.

^^^When you read the first page of 4 3 2 1, you will understand this reference.

Bonus Book! A Clockwork Orange

A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess

Social Criticism (1962 - 141 pp.)

A Clockwork Orange is one of the many 20th-century classics I failed to pounce on as a reader until far too late. In A Clockwork Orange, Alex, the protagonist and narrator, navigates a Sovietized dystopian England in the book's present day (c. 1962), committing murder, rape, assault, and getting into gang wars before being locked up, treated by experimental psychiatry, and then released back into a world he no longer understands. The lack of reform Alex understands is evident in how casually he narrates these jarring events.

Alex's disconnect from any sort of political history, heritage or tradition marks him as clearly living in the now. Despite living in England, he refers to "Victoria flatblock after some victory or other", (43) apparently unaware of Queen Victoria or of any of the United Kingdom's great victories over the centuries. It is not as though Alex is completely uneducated, as he is a budding classical music expert. Crystallography, an unnamed subject of study, is lost to the sands of time due to "a poisonous young swine" destroying all the books. (107) The "F. Alexander" who writes the intra-novel book "A Clockwork Orange" is probably Alex, although this is never confirmed, and Alex refers to a different characters as its author; even so, the book is something that only exists in Alex's recounting of his age 15-19 years.* Alex plainly has no future, even at the end of the book, even after his release from his prison, when the staff list a number of jobs Alex can perform but he shows little interest in them. Equally so, Alex has no past. None of Alex's childhood prior to the start of the book is ever revealed.

The book's locations are bright in my eyes. The Duke of New York is only one word off from a restaurant/pub/bar where I used to attend events in the halcyon pre-COVID days. The Korova milk bar takes a mainstay of communist-era Poland, the milk bar, and transplants it into a dingy, gritty, impoverished England. Alex's frequent returns to these places, inevitably in search of liquid (brandy and milk, respectively - he never orders food), make him see the world through alcohol and milk. In one of Alex's more frightening pre-prison episodes, he serves Scotch to ten-year-old girls (and that's just the beginning). The night before this episode, when Alex returns home to his mother's refreshingly unadulterated glass of milk, Alex recites one of the great one-liners of the whole book: "How wicked, my brothers, innocent milk must always seem to me now." (26) Whether this one-liner is Alex's commentary on the altered state of his life, ominous foreshadowing, or both, the "always" carries forward right to end of Alex's story.

Usually, a 141-page book that flows conversationally and reads as quickly as an airport novel would be a very easy read. In A Clockwork Orange's case, what makes the book difficult to read is part of its charm: Alex's constant use of Anglo-Slavic slang. The first time you read a phrase like "there was no need from the point of view of crasting some more pretty polly to tolchock some old veck in and alley and viddy him swim in his blood while we counted the takings and divided by four, nor to do the ultra-violent on some shivering starry grey-haired ptitsa in a shop and go smecking off with the till's guts", (3) it is virtually incomprehensible, but Alex's linguistic foibles are quickly absorbed. Alex's countercultural way of speech is subverted near the end of the book, when Georgina says Alex "talks funny" while giggling; Pete informs her that is really how he and Alex used to talk. (138) Similarly, Dim reminds Alex that he "was young", emphasizing the past tense. (110) By the end of the book, Dim is a police officer, Alex is unemployed, and, mysteriously, Alex is also a father. Is all the slang, and by continuation Alex's attitude, swept away by the simple process of growing up?

Ease of Reading: 4

Educational Content: 3

*For another example of an intra-novel book having the same title as the book it's in, see Philip K. Dick's The Man in the High Castle, coincidentally also released in 1962.

November's Book: Fire and Blood

Fire & Blood by George R.R. Martin

Fantasy (2018 - 711 pp.)

Finally, after almost nine years, the world of A Game of Thrones comes to this blog.

Fire & Blood is the prequel* to George R.R. Martin's smash hit A Song of Ice and Fire series. Over a roughly 142-year span, an unnamed chronicler** tells a series of roughly chronological stories centering on the Targaryen monarchy. their dragons, their wars, their pinnacles and their nadirs. The chronicler discusses numerous fabricated sources, analogous to The Navidson Record in Mark Danielewski's classic horror novel House of Leaves; from the somber Septon Eustace to the bawdy Mushroom, they make entertaining additions to what otherwise could have been an encyclopedia.

The chronicle format drags the reader right into the action, blazing through Aegon's Conquest and family before listing off the greatest, cruelest and worst kings of the early Targaryens. Aegon I, astride his famed dragon Balerion, flanked by his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys, establishes Targaryen dominance over the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.^ Maegor the Cruel is a truly formidable character, creating enemies all over Westeros who, nonetheless, never seem able to take him down. Jaehaerys I is arguably the main character of the book, having the longest and most prosperous rule; he is a favourite of mine due to his role as conciliator between various warring parties, a role I play whenever I can. Viserys I oversees the greatest proliferation of dragons in Westerosi Targaryen history, yet is unmotivated to mend the rips sprouting in his family. Prince Aemond is a prodigy-level dragonrider who enters multiple duels on dragonback and wins most of them. Princess Aerea's turn riding Balerion ends far less romantically.

Ancestors of the characters in A Game of Thrones make varying levels of cameo, often in surprising ways. The second most powerful house of Westeros is Velaryon, a house unseen in the sequential books. Starks make brief appearances, Lannisters slightly longer ones. What amazed me, though, was the nearly unbroken hundred-year span of the Baratheons serving the Targaryens as faithful allies. This especially put the events of Robert's Rebellion into greater context for me, as the rebel propagandists of A Game of Thrones make their side out to be a sworn adversary of the Targaryens. Maybe not so much...

As a general rule, the more swashbuckling a character or scene is in Fire & Blood, the more I like it. Although Martin does a great job of introducing characters like Rego Draz, the hated-but-effective Master of Coin, and does well to show how financially strained King's Landing often gets, Martin is at his best when someone is swinging a sword. Less convincing scenes include the various brothels and pleasure gardens, each of which could be any of the others, and the endless proliferation of younger siblings who no doubt end up dying in some gruesome way or another.

Martin's writing is extremely accessible, yet Fire & Blood lags when Martin introduces tidal waves of characters, sometimes to only appear in one paragraph. While it is commendable in-world that the chronicler can relate all this information, it is hopelessly confusing after a while. Worst of all, the reader cannot use Martin's dramatis personae at the back of the book to any real effect, as some of the greatest suspense comes from not knowing who will win the throne during one of many succession crises. Looking up the characters would spoil major plot points. I did double takes whenever characters had suspiciously normal-sounding names; after so many pages of characters like Visenya Targaryen, encountering characters with names like Tyler Hill or Sara Snow was jarring.

Fire & Blood is sold on the cover as showing "300 Years Before A Game of Thrones, Dragons Ruled Westeros". Naively, I assumed Fire & Blood would cover all 300 years. Instead, it covers Westeros from Aegon's Conquest up until the end of the Dance of Dragons, a bloody intra-Targaryen civil war that makes the War of the Five Kings look like a picnic by comparison. I reached the end wanting more. Compounding this shortage is the inconsistent pacing. The first 128 years of the book (1-128) take place from pages 1-390. The next fourteen years (129-142) take places from pages 391-711. What had moved at a fast clip suddenly turned into a book that was effectively about the Dance of Dragons. I liked the faster style of the first half, although the second half was interesting as well, especially the Daemon/Aemond dragon duel.

Fire & Blood is a fun read, but it is for readers who have already read the five sequential books so far. One also has to wonder why all this energy wasn't put into The Winds of Winter.^^

Ease of Reading: 7

Educational Content: 1

*Fire & Blood takes 300-158 years before A Game of Thrones. There could quite easily be a second prequel as well.

**This is the only spoiler I'll give. I thought the revelation of the chronicler's identity would be a major plot point. Whose house was this chronicler's? What motivation did the chronicler have for telling this story? Was the chronicler a Targaryen... or perhaps from a rival house, like a Stark or a Lannister? Sadly, the chronicler's identity is never revealed.

On the topic of spoilers, this is one of my extremely rare entries with essentially no pinpoint citations. Fire & Blood is so plot-packed, almost any citation feels like a spoiler.

^Except Dorne, of course. The book's numerous Dornish Wars are testament's to Dorne's ongoing independence.

^^I've ranted on Quora about the unreasonable delay of The Winds of Winter. Martin had the opportunity of a lifetime to release a new book while the HBO show was still in its run. Other than the basically coincidental release of A Dance with Dragons two months after the show's premiere, Martin did not release a sequential book during the show's run. Opportunity wasted?

Alice in Chains self-titled turns 25!

On November 7, 1995, Alice in Chains released Alice in Chains, their first full-length studio album* to hit #1 on the Billboard charts. They didn't tour for the album, in part due to singer Layne Staley's health issues, but the album flew off the shelves, often into the hands of fans who had purchased their previous albums Facelift (1990, #42) and Dirt (1992, #6). 

Alice in Chains turns 25 today.

You can listen to the full album here:

Singles include "Grind", "Heaven Beside You", and "Again". Other notable tracks include "Sludge Factory", "Head Creeps", "Frogs" and "Over Now". It's a 5-star album.

Recent years have seen a flood of Alice in Chains-related anniversaries. This year is also the 30th anniversary of Facelift, which the band has commemorated by releasing a 30th-anniversary edition, complete with special T-shirts.** There's also a "30 Days of Facelift" preceding this coming Friday's release. Earlier this year, Consequence of Sound noted the 26th anniversary of the band's 1994 EP Jar of Flies. The 2010s saw similar anniversaries, including the 25th anniversary of Dirt in 2017, the 27th anniversary of Dirt in 2019, and, curiously, the 24th anniversary of Alice in Chains last year.

I haven't seen any 25th anniversary tributes for Alice in Chains yet, so let there be at least one, no matter what the music sites of the world say (or fail to say).

Layne Staley performing live in support of Dirt in 1993. Image by Shutterstock. I would have taken a picture and posted it myself, as my photography appears in various places on this blog, but I was either five or six at the time. There was no official Alice in Chains tour, so those pictures don't exist.

*Their 1994 EP Jar of Flies hit #1. Despite its 31-minute run time (longer than Slayer's Reign in Blood, for comparison's sake), Jar of Flies was not considered a full-length album.

**Strange personal anecdote: I only own one Alice in Chains T-shirt. I bought it in Krakow, Poland, of all places. It's an extra large, yet it fits me perfectly despite the fact that I'm a medium. It has the Layne Staley-drawn sun logo from Dirt on it.