Speedy Book Reviews

(In an effort to improve my book reviewing skills I’m trying to post a review of every book I read. Right now I’m a bit behind so instead of three long reviews I’m going to do three shorter reviews.)

Moab is my Washpot 

Stephen Fry has been fairly well cemented as a secular saint and if you’re reading my blog you’re probably familiar with him. Moab is a moving autobiography  and Mr. Fry’s love of language makes it such a joy to read. Even if you’ve never heard of Stephen Fry I still highly recommend reading his autobiography. Do it, you’ll be thrilled with the results.

Stephen Fry, copyright 1997, Arrow Books

Shooting Victoria

When I first saw Shooting Victoria I immediately thought, “520 pages about the eight attempts on Queen Victoria’s life? Well that’s probably over-kill and only going to be interesting for a very narrow audience.” My second thought was, “I need this book more than I need my lungs.” Yeah, it turns out that I’m not bad at predicting things because my first thought was actually really wrong. Yes, this book is big enough to kill a child but it’s definitely not over-kill. Paul Thomas Murphy took the eight assassination attempts and used them to show how Queen Victoria’s reign began the transition into the modern monarchy. Well written and accessible and an all around wonderful read. Particularly recommended for fans of the British monarchy, European history and the Victorian era.

Paul Thomas Murphy, copyright 2012, Pegasus Books LLC

America Again

Friends, you know that I’m not Stephen Colbert’s biggest fan. Actually, you probably don’t know that. I’ve got nothing against Mr. Colbert, I’m just am not a huge fan. Reading America Again  was like watching an episode of his show. Yes, there were some moments that made me laugh pretty damn hard (which Americans he would eat if he needed was one of my favorite sections) but for the most part I found it to be mildly amusing. If you’re a fan of Stephen Colbert then yeah, I’d recommend it.

Stephen Colbert, copyright 2012, Grand Central Publishing

Review: “The Abacus and the Cross”

Pope Sylvester II (Gerbert) doesn’t have time for your lack-of-science-and-math bullshit.

Remember when I very enthusiastically reviewed Nancy Marie Brown’s Song of the Vikings? Well during the papal elections (I’m a not so secret Vatican/Pope fanatic. Not in the sense that I’m Catholic but in the sense that I am in love with the crazy shit that the Bishops of Rome used to get up to.) I picked up one of her older books, The Abacus and the Cross, which bills itself as “the story of the pope who brought the light of science to the Dark Ages.” Yes, this book is a biography of Gerbert (later known as Pope Sylvester II) but it’s more than the life of one man. In the same way that Song of the Vikings was a biography of Snorri that also told a grander story of Icelandic history and culture this biography uses Gerbert’s life to tell the story of the end of the first century in Christian Europe.

Gerbert is the sort of person who you have to feel bad for.  A peasant born monk who probably could have spent his life happily working away on various scientific and mathematical problems in the libraries of Europe Gerbert ended becoming involved in some of the big political kerfuffles of his time. The reader watches as the somewhat (Well, maybe more than somewhat) naive Gerbert is forced to learn the diplomacy needed to interact with kings and empresses and men with big tempers and even bigger armies. As Gerbert attempts to reunite the Holy Roman Empire it’s impossible not to want to hug him and say, “It’s alright, honey, you tried your best.”

Song of the Vikings helped provide a nuanced and more realistic portrait of Viking Iceland and The Abacus and the Cross does similarly for Plutarch’s “Dark Ages.” Following Gerbert’s travels to Spain we see the multicultural city of Corboda where Jews and Christians could advance to the upper levels of government in this Muslim city. There is no sugar coating in this book, no attempt to make the Dark Ages look like a “Kumbaya” singing group of multiracial people holding hands but it does put a clearer perspective on the cultural politics before the early 1000s.

Ms. Brown also preforms a service by reminding us of the importance of Muslims in not just preserving Greco-Roman science and culture but in adding to and advancing them to new heights. Indeed, Gerbert’s own achievements would have been impossible had it not been for the teachings of Muslim scientists and mathematicians. (Ms. Brown’s writings on the political motivations behind the demonizing of non-Christians that would follow only a few years after Gerbert’s death are also particularly interesting.)

The subject of the Church and its relationship with science and math and logic and reason (I’m working really hard to keep my agnostic evidence based snarky bastard side in check right now.) isn’t a new discussion but Ms. Brown provides more context by discussing how a Gerbert, a scientist who would become pope, found his faith and his science came together like one big happy family. By using him as an example for the more traditional faction of the Church that viewed science and math as forms of better understanding God versus those who were beginning to look at arithmetic as Devil worship Ms. Brown describes the contrasting sides quite nicely. The look at how this scientist pope was treated after death when those that disagreed with his views on science and math became the dominant voice is a fascinating way of understanding the shifts that occurred with the Church.

The Abacus and the Cross might not be as accessible as Song of the Vikings (I mean, the latter is about Vikings and who doesn’t love Vikings?) but if you give it a chance I think that most readers will find themselves engrossed in this book. This book could also be perfect for any reader who is looking for a solid history that provides nuances to their understanding of the history of the Catholic Church.

The Abacus and the Cross; Nancy Marie Brown; Basic Books, copyright 2010

REMINDER: I’m giving away two copies of this print for free. Details are here.

 

 

“Star Trek: Federation” [Review]

Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens have written a book

If you’re a fan of Star Trek it’s worth a look

We’ve got Cochraine, Kirk and Picard all keen

Going up against a minion of Colonel Green

Although sometimes the technobabble is gobbley-gook

This picture doesn’t really have anything to do with the story but I am a big fan of it. By NBC Television (eBay itemphoto front photo frontpress release) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Sorry, I’ve got to get this book back to the library and don’t really have much to say about it. Enjoyable and not entirely canon as it was published before several of the TNG movies came out. Maybe the authors reach a bit far in their attempt to create an epic space opera but it’s enjoyable.

Star Trek: Federation; Judith and Garfield Reeves-Stevens; Pocket Books; 1994

Review: “Trans/Love: radical sex, love & relationships beyond the gender binary”

I don’t know when I first heard of Trans/Love but I do know that at some point I got it into my head that it was a collection of beyond the binary erotica. Last week a friend met me for coffee and they lent me a copy for my train ride up to Vermont. I read the first story somewhere South of Brattleboro, Vermont, and went, “Meh.” As I plodded through the second story something clicked in my head and I went back to read the introduction. I was entirely wrong: These were not erotic stories but rather personal essays of, to quote the subtitle, “radical sex, love & relationships beyond the gender binary.” In that moment everything changed. I had been reading as if I was reading erotic stories designed to get me off and once I realized that these were non-fiction essays I found them intensely more engaging.

I’m not going to review every single essay in this anthology. Frankly I think that these essays work together to create a beautiful entity. I’m not saying that there aren’t any that can stand on their own but as a whole these essays weave tell stories from the East Coast to the West, from people of varied ethnic backgrounds, from privileged and not-privileged backgrounds, and from a variety of identities. There are 29 stories, the majority only a few pages long, and they touch upon almost any non-binary gender and sexual identities you can think of. From this highly enjoyable collection I’d like to showcase a few that I found to be particularly wonderful.

You know what we need more of in our progressive and positive communities? Acceptance and representation of “other” bodies. Joelle Ruby Ryan’s “Fat, Trans and Single: Some Thoughts from an ‘Othered’ Body on Control, Alientaion, and Liberation” talks about their experiences as a “fat, single, genderqueer, transfeminist, writer, teacher, [and] activist.” Beyond discussing the experiences of fat or otherwise differently bodied queers they also do an excellent job of addressing bi- and asexual erasure.  For some this essay might be a wakeup and for others it might be a reminder but no matter what it’s a damn important essay.

Speaking of building inclusive communities- There’s a two-and-a-half page excerpt from Imani Henry’s play B4T (before testosterone) that tells of a non-binary sexual encounter between two people of color. Alright, it’s actually so much more complicated than that but I’m going to say that you need to read this piece to fully take it in. Jennie Kermode’s “Getting It Out In Public” tells the story of their discovery that they are intersexed. Their story is interesting as is but I highly appreciated their discussion of their intersex identity as I feel that this is an identity that is far too frequently left out.

It might be the fact that I’m baby/toddler crazy at the moment but I am in love with the two family-with-children focused essays in this anthology. “Milk, Please” by Patch Avery is a lovely meditation on fatherhood, queers in “traditional” family models, and being brown in America. “Out Loud and Pride Six Months Before Surgery” by Dee Ouellette is also lovely but focuses on her experiences as a “queer tranny […] mother” and her own process with adopting the labels that felt right to her.

“City Hall,” the story of Phyllis Pseudonym’s green-card marriage, gave me the warm-cuddlies all throughout my body. This snapshot of her life, the few hours in the morning that follow along with her wedding, was, well, well it gave me a hope for my own romance. Besides finding her writing to be enjoyable to read I also found myself envious of her relationship. Alright, maybe not envious since I’m happy with my life right now but it gave me comfort to know that there are other people in the world who are looking for the same sort of relationships that I am.

I don’t want to say that I had a favorite essay but, um, yeah, I’ve got two favorite essays. While I was touched and inspired and brought to tears and to laughter throughout this collection there were two that I found particularly relatable and significant. Don’t know if you’ve picked up on this yet but I’m fascinated by the act of sex and how sex is important to us as individuals. “Made Real” by Sassafras Lowrey and “Resexing Trans” by Kai Kohlsdorf are both on this subject. Please just read them, they come highly recommended by me.

Look, I really think you should read Trans/Love. Buy it, borrow it, steal ( well, no, don’t steal it), do what you need to do to get your hands on it. This anthology is important, and not just for members of the queer community. There are so many topics and themes brought up that don’t receive enough attention from us, whether we’re queer or straight. For many of you this slim collection of the stories of people from a wide variety of marginalized sexual/gender identities will end up educating you and expose you to new ideas. Some people might be afraid of the words “radical sex” on the but if you can handle HBO or George RR Martin then you can easily handle Trans/Love.

Trans/Love; Morty Diamond, ed.; copyright 2011; Manic D Press, pub.

Review: “God’s Secret Agents”

I’m going to lay this out right here and now: God’s Secret Agents is the best non-fiction book that I’ve read this year (Song of the Vikings is an exceedingly close second) and this review is going to be heavy on the praise. The Cliffnotes version of this post reads something like this: You should read God’s Secret Agents.

In God’s Secret Agents Alice Hogge has produced a book that hits full marks for every aspect I judge history books on. Text is accessible and engaging? Yes. Presents a point of view that is as objective as possible/acknowledges potential biases? Yes. Offers a new interpretation or understanding of subject? Yes. Provides insights into modern culture? Yes. 10 out of 10, you go Alice Hogge.

God’s Secret Agents follows Catholics in England from the early years of Queen Elizabeth I’s reign when Catholicism went from the state religion to the religion of traitors up until the extremely unsuccessful Gun Powder Plot that made Guy Fawkes so famous. Though the book’s cover implies that it is focused just on the Catholic priests who fled England to study in Europe and then risked their lives to return to England in an attempt to bring their home back to what they saw as the true and proper faith the book’s subject is far more expansive. While the narrative of these priests would be fascinating by itself Ms Hogge goes above and beyond by providing a history that puts the idea of the “revolutionary priests” in the context of its time and lays out the driving forces of all parties involved.

There are two points that I feel Ms Hogge deserves extra praise on. The first is that she takes apart the whole concept of the Catholic priest plotting to kill the Monarch and bring the Roman Catholic faith back into England. Priests in elaborate hiding holes and Guy Fawkes (who wasn’t a priest) style agents dominate our notion of this time period but Miss Hogge explains how this notion is rooted in the English government’s propaganda which was itself rooted in paranoia and not so much in fact. Yes, there were certainly some who did want to kill Elizabeth (and later James) but from the accounts of the active Catholics themselves these seem to be a minority. Despite a Papal decision that could be interpreted as allowing the assassination of Elizabeth most of the priests who traveled incognito throughout England were more concerned with the spiritual salvation of their countrymen than with Elizabeth’s life. Indeed the idea that a Catholic could not be a true Englishman loyal to his country was much more firmly held by the English government than the Catholics, many of  whom didn’t see such a firm contradiction between holding onto the old religion and supporting their Queen. This is not to say that all was peaceful but it was certainly more complex than we like to imagine. Another important distinction that we tend to forget is that it wasn’t just Catholic priests (Jesuit or otherwise) who were active in trying to restore the Catholic religion to England.

The second point that I thought Ms Hogge addressed very nicely was how violent and terrifying this period could be. While the reign of Bloody Mary is well remembered for the persecution of Protestants and Puritans the reign of Queen Elizabeth has been more sanitized (I have two pet theories on why this is: Our desire to remember elevate Queen Elizabeth to impossibly high standards and the fact that Catholics never returned to power.) Ms Hogge introduces us to an England where suspected Catholics faced not just financial persecution but also gruesome tortures and executions. Indeed this is an England where one nobleman felt that if his friend had been a murderer or thief or pirate or anything other than a Catholic he would be able to ask for leniency from the courts but since his friend was accused of being a Catholic he would be risking his own life in asking for leniency that would not be served. This book is an important and strong reminder that even golden ages can be filled with horrific details that we try our best to forget.

Ms Hogge’s final chapter is a particularly important aspect of this book as it presents one of the best connections between the past and present that I have ever seen. She first dismantles the connections frequently made between this period and modern events and then offers up more reasonable ones that actually, you know, make sense. Her history on the evolution of Catholic identities in England from the Tudor/Stewart era to modern politicians is also highly fascinating.

God’s Secret Agents is a thorough and comprehensive history that brings light into an aspect of history that has been obscured by retention to the propaganda of the time and should engage even the most casual student of history.

God’s Secret Agents; Alice Hogge; HarpersCollins, 2005

An Open Letter to Alison Bechdel (Review: “The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For”)

Dear Alison Bechdel,

By Michael Rhode (101_3633 Alison Bechdel) [CC-BY-2.0], via Wikimedia Commons

Thank you.

I know, I know, you’ve received ten-thousand letters like this but let’s make it ten-thousand-and-one, shall we?

I grew up a queer outcast in a very heterosexual little rural farming town. My exposure to any sort of queer identities was limited to the occasional “let’s be nice to people” discussion in class. At a very young age I identified as not comfortable with how I related to heteronormativity. True, I didn’t always have the vocabulary to express my thoughts on my gender/sexual identity but I was aware enough to recognize that I was different.

I didn’t have the sorts of role models that my normative friends had. Where were the male superheroes that wore pink and why couldn’t Luke and Han make out? (Answer: Because Luke’s a weenie and Han and Leia are bad-ass soul-mates.) What I did have was 7-Days, the alternative paper that my parents brought home every two weeks. I thank my agnostic deity(ies) that I was introduced to 7-Days while in elementary school. Not only did their “Hot2Trot” personal section help guide me through puberty but it introduced me to your comic.

When I read Dykes to Watch Out For I had role models, I had superheroes. A bearded dad in a utility kilt and a transgender teen and people of color (I’m from the second whitest state in the union so this point is particularly important) and liberal intellectuals and queers. Dykes to Watch Out For was my exposure to the idea that queers came in all shapes and sizes and that we didn’t have to confirm to stereotypes. Yes, I was a male with same-sex attractions but that didn’t mean I had to be limp wristed and lisping (though I do have a bit of a Jon Inman wrist). There’s nothing wrong with happening to share characteristics with society’s ideas of queers but you helped me see that I didn’t need to let it define me.

For a young boy who was being introduced to sex primarily by his male, similarly aged friends (all of whom had very cis-centered, heterosexual, patriarchy themed ideas about sex that they wanted to share) Dykes to Watch Out For also expanded my ideas about what sex could mean. Your cartoons regularly covered discussions about sex as well as depictions of responsible and healthy sex. I can distinctly remember reading a strip featuring masturbation and realizing, “Oh! I can do that! And that’s not a bad thing and in fact it seems like it’s a good thing!” So on behalf of the sexually frustrated adolescent who relied on masturbation to help get him through years of celibacy I must offer you a tremendous THANK YOU.

One thing that I can’t thank you for is inspiring in me the idea that I could easily find a community like the one you wrote about. First of all I assumed that all the action in DtWOF took place in Burlington, a mere forty-five minutes from my house. I believe it was sometime when I was in high school and your book Fun Home was being promoted that I found out that the city was probably somewhere near Michigan. (I was actually really upset when I found this out.) Even with the knowledge that Burlington wasn’t the city you were writing about I still figured that if I went to a medium/small-sized liberal city then I’d find the queers. Well, Ms. Bechdel, I went to the University of Vermont for a year-and-a-half and didn’t meet as many queers as I would’ve liked. My own antisocial nature and reluctance to interact with humanity might have been a stumbling block but if Mo could find friends like that then why couldn’t I? (Side note- I’m now in Amherst and there are a lot more active queers so things might not be as bleak as I once thought.)

Reading The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For brought me back to my days of smuggling a 7-Days into my room and losing myself in the black-and-white lines of Mo and Co.’s endless pursuit of life, liberty and the perfect lentil soup. I tore through The Essential (even setting aside the book on Catholic priests in Protestant England I was currently reading, so you know, it was pretty serious) only to find myself reaching the end far too soon. When I closed the book I could feel my heart sinking as I realized that the lives of characters who I love and adore were frozen in perpetuity. The ending wasn’t all pain though as I found the fire you helped to light all those years ago suddenly flare up as it feasted. Not only was there a rekindling but a new fire was lit. I’m older and a different person than when I first read DtWOF and I’ve found new ways to connect with the work. Now I’m super-charged and ready to take on the patriarchy. I’m looking for my own Mad Wimmin Books and searching for my own Stuart/Ginger/Clarice (Hey, it’s not my fault you wrote such wonderful characters that I want to be in relationships with.) It’s time to be subversive and time to be radical and time to kvetch over hummus.

Thank you, Ms. Bechdel.

 

Yours most humbly and sincerely,

Samuel Aloysius Zaber

The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For; Alison Bechdel; Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Company, copyright 2008.

Review: “Becoming Human: Evolution and Human Uniqueness”

Ian Tattersall, paleoanthropologist par excellence, was the first person to make me feel that I had any grasp of evolution. I read his book on human evolution, The World from Beginnings to 4,000 BCE, in my Senior year. To have a subject so long obscured finally begin to clear (I say begin because to this day I am still baffled by evolution.) was a nearly miraculous moment in my high school life and I feel utterly in debt to Dr. Tattersall.

My fear when I started his 1998 book, Becoming Human, was that I’d placed Dr. Tattersall on a pedestal so high up that this book would be a let down. My fear upon finishing Becoming Human was that my admiration for the writer would cloud my judgement when it came time to write this review.

I really, really liked Becoming Human. Reading it felt like I was attending a marathon lecture from Dr. Tattersall. Written with an informal tone that conveys the subject with clarity and makes the material accessible to the layperson. A longer, more detailed account of human origins than The World from Beginnings to 4,000 BCE this book looks through not just our evolutionary history but what makes us human.

Part of why I’m such a fan of this book is the fact that Dr. Tattersall doesn’t just lay down THIS IS EVOLUTION AND HERE’S WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED. Rather he acknowledges the fact that evolutionary history is not so clearly defined and always tempers his statements with reminders that much of what we know could change at any moment with some new discovery. Another reason why I think this book is ace is the way in which Dr. Tattersall brings up theories that he doesn’t truly agree with. He presents major theories in modern paleoanthropology and then explains why he does or doesn’t think highly of them.

[Brief side note: One of the theories that Dr. Tattersall presents is evolutionary psychology. In gripping and destructive detail Dr. Tattersall disembowels most of evolutionary psychological theory. I’ve never been so happy in my life.]

Evolutionary theory is important. It doesn’t matter if you think it’s the truth or a bunch of hogwash but it’s a major topic in our cultural discourse and that makes it important. As a citizen it’ll behoove you to bone up on your human evolution knowledge. You’ll definitely stop asking the question, “If humans evolved from apes then why are there still apes?” You’ll stop asking this question because you’ll realize that this question makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE.

Anyone looking for a comprehensive but accessible introduction to human evolution should probably check out this book. I don’t know how much of it is outdated at this point and I can’t guarantee that you’ll become an amateur expert but you’ll definitely end up with some facts that’ll make you seem super smart at your next party.

Becoming Human: Evolution and Human Uniqueness; Ian Tattersall; Harcourt Brace & Company, copyright 1998

Review: “Death Note, Vol. 1: Boredom”

I believe the last time I read manga was sometime in high school and I was a bit apprehensive about reading a whole book of manga after a few years of rest. It turns out that my eyes very quickly adapted to the right-to-left format that manga is written in.

Death Note is an entertaining book, although it is also pretty depressing. A death death demon drops his notebook, his Death Note, into the human realm and then everything goes pear shaped. Death Notes are the tools that the demons use to kill off the humans and for it to end up in the hands of a human, well, that’s a really bad idea. Naturally this Death Note is discovered by Light, an ambitious teenager with a very flexible moral code. Light, with the help of the meddling demon who dropped his book, discovers how to use his new toy to kill anyone he wants prompting him to start a moral, and bloody, purification of the human race. The police, with the aid of a mysterious private investigator, begin to pursue Light and the story takes off.

What separated Death Note from your everyday manga is the way in which it examines how Light handles his new power. There’s a sick pleasure in watching Light become consumed with his god-like abilities.

Let’s be real. I found Death Note to be a good read but not particularly exemplary.

Death Note; story by Tsugumi Ohba and art by Takeshi Obata; SHUEISHA Inc, copyright 2003

Three Minute Review: “Skin Deep”

Disturbing, dark, humorous. Skin Deep is a collection of three stories told in the macabre style of the 1950s horror cartoons that so outraged the red-blooded Americans. Horrific characters populate these stories, even the random background characters are disfigured or cruel. Not as gruesome as, say, Sandman but not light entertainment.

Skin Deep; Charles Burns; Fantagraphics

Review: “Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths”

The line between a good, or even great, biography and a really excellent biography lies in the biographer’s ability to tell their subject’s story and also connect it to the larger world. Nancy Marie Brown’s biography of the Icelandic poet and political schemer Snorri is an excellent example of biographies that tie together people and the times they lived in. Not only a biography of a Snorri Sturlason this slim book (It’s only 208 pages in the hardcover.) covers Iceland’s history and lore. Using the arc of Snorri’s life as her guide Ms. Brown tells the story of Iceland’s and continues to the cultural impacts of Snorri’s tales in the 20th century.

It’s refreshing to read a biography that wasn’t written by a sycophant. Ms. Brown addresses Snorri’s numerous flaws (primarily his self-serving nature) but she doesn’t try to explain them away or turn him into an overblown characterization of a villain. Her treatment of the Icelandic culture is similarly fair. Carefully making the point that the Icelandic Vikings were not the horned-helmet-wearing, looting and ravaging hordes that we remember them being she doesn’t hide their darker sides. Along with stories of Icelandic law courts and justice are stories of a six-year old smashing his playmate’s head open with an ax after losing at a ball game and the joy that this brings to his mother, glad that her son will be a true Viking when he grows up.

The legal and political life of 13th century Iceland is carefully explored in Song of the Vikings and it may just the be the political nerd inside of me talking but it is absolutely fascinating. Ms. Brown takes us from the first days of Iceland’s founding by Scandinavians who chaffed under the rule of a king to the arrival of Christianity to the domination of Norway. She adeptly breaks down the legal system that allowed this small island to maintain its unity so that even a complete novice such as myself feels that I understand. As a strict agnostic with an interest in how Christianity spread and its interactions with the native religions I was delighted when Ms. Brown addressed this very topic. The frustrations of the Bishops who tried to maintain a Christian attitude over a population with a very strong “Don’t Tread On Me” mentality provided a nice example of the outside world trying to exert its control over Iceland.

Snorri wasn’t the rough and tumble Viking that one sees in popular culture. A portly writer with dreams of becoming the “Uncrowned King of Iceland,” a strong goal for a Chieftain living in a country ruled by a strong oligarchy that prickles at the idea of a one-man rule. His constant struggle to achieve greatness makes a fascinating tale and one that takes the reader from the intricacies of Icelandic local politics to the court of the young Norwegian king. Unlike his more aggressive neighbors Snorri uses his control over language to work toward his end. In his attempts to court the teenage king of Norway Snorri repackages the old myths of Iceland to make them Christian friendly and presents them as a symbol of his intelligence and craft.

Ms. Brown’s prose is clear and crisp with few unnecessary flourishes. This does not mean that the book is cold or stiff. Rather it is has the comfortable warmth that the Icelandic sagas also hold. Song of the Vikings makes the reader feel that the author understands them and wants to engage them. Ms. Brown even acknowledges the sexual allure of the Vikings, using descriptions such as, “we can imagine his long blond hair loose over his shoulders, his massive chest and manly thighs bared.” Wooof! You can see the grin that must have been on Ms. Brown’s face when she wrote this, a grin that’s quite similar to the one I had when reading it. I would suggest that if you, like I, don’t have a great head for proper nouns then you might want to keep a pen and paper handy to keep track of all the characters in this book. Not only are the names unfamiliar and somewhat similar sounding to an American like me there are also a fucking lot of important people.

The final chapter of Song of the Vikings links Snorri and the myths he preserved to major cultural and philosophical ideas today. Unlike some who make rash comparisons and stretch connections Ms. Brown puts together a thorough chain from the 13th century to the 21st and goes through the chain link by link. She uses concrete evidence to put together her claims and, in my opinion, does so very well.

Song of the Vikings is an entertaining book that adds dimension to a period of European history that has been flattened by simple stereotypes of Vikings. Not just a cultural history, not just the biography of a man who you can’t stop reading about, not just a political intrigue, not just an overview of Icelandic lore, Song of the Vikings is a comprehensive read that covers a wide variety of topics. Yes, the history buff and the folklore buff will devour it but so will the casual reader, who will discover a new interest in Iceland and might just pick up a copy of Snorri’s writing.

Song of the Vikings: Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths; Nancy Marie Brown; Palgrave Macmillan, copyright 2012.