The writing team styled as James S.A. Corey picks up the ever complex interplanetary politics and resulting war without missing a beat in book six of The Expanse series. Longtime fans of the series will enjoy the return of many characters from previous books in the newest installment, Babylon’s Ashes.
The spaceship Rocinante’s crew is reunited for a drawn-out debriefing on Luna Base. Captain Holden and company ship out under former Martian Marine Bobbie Draper’s command to help coordinate what remains of the joint fleet from Earth and Mars, as well as the unaligned OPA factions, to put a stop to Marco’s plans.
The complex tribal nature of the Belt is given a hefty portion of the storytelling though the voices of Naomi, Dawes, Pa, Prax, Filip and Marco. Corey devotes time into exploring the poisonous father-son relationship between Marco and Filip, as well as Naomi’s guilt for sacrificing her son to Marco’s control. One of the most striking moments of the book occurs when Filip has an important realization about his father.
If you are new to the novels that precede the sixth installment, make sure to get started with Leviathan Wakes, or check out season one of The Expanse before the next season starts back up on February 1.
In the spring of 1981, four young gay male patients were referred to Dr. Michael Gottlieb, a young assistant professor at UCLA specializing in immunology, with a series of opportunistic infections. Author Bruce J. Hillman, MD charts the course that Dr. Gottlieb took that would lead to the discovery of AIDS and the dissolution of his academic career in A Plague on All Our Houses.
After contacting the CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention), an action that had to be suggested by the editor-in-chief of the New England Journal of Medicine (NEJM) owning to Gottlieb’s professional naivety, he confirmed an additional case via autopsy. Gottlieb and his colleagues collected their data and he drafted what is now considered one of the most notable medical publications of the century. As the lead author of the NEJM article which described a new disease, Gottlieb was pulled in many directions: academic researcher, clinician, spokesperson, grant writer and fundraiser. As the doctor who discovered a new undetectable infectious disease, Gottlieb attracted many patients, most of whom were gay. At the same time, UCLA was trying to brand itself as a transplant center. A mixture of fear and homophobia began to build in earnest. Jealousy joined the mix when Gottlieb drew additional attention as the specialist who cared for Rock Hudson. When Elizabeth Taylor decided to dedicate herself to finding a cure after the death of her friend and a relative, she turned to Gottlieb for counsel, and the mixture neared the boiling point.
If you enjoyed Rebecca Skloot’s work examining the health and societal impact of the HeLa cells juxtaposed against the lives of her children deprived of their mother in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, this medical story is for you.
The past is truly prologue in The Fever of 1721: The Epidemic That Revolutionized Medicine and American Politics. Author Stephen Coss transports readers to a time when newspaper publishers incited petty feuds and questioned scientific progress in order to increase their profit margin. An outbreak of smallpox provided the perfect opportunity for the new publisher James Franklin and his indentured servant and brother Benjamin to mock inoculation efforts by publishing an ill-informed doctor’s fears of the practice. Inoculation proponent Doctor Zabdiel Boylston found an ally in Cotton Mather to assist in his mission to inoculate willing Bostonians. In an obvious attempt to ease his guilty conscience for his role in the Salem witch trials, Mather gambled that Doctor Boylston would save more lives through inoculation than Mather had condemned through spectral evidence.
Meanwhile, fear of a subversive slave revolt was spawned when enslaved Africans shared their history of inoculation. It was not long before Bostonians feared the new medical practice more than the disease, owing to the compounding factors of a former Salem minister, images of a slave revolt and egregious medical editorials. As a result, the fever of 1721 would be remembered as one of the worst smallpox outbreaks in the Americas.
As Coss tracked the outbreak of smallpox across Boston and into the neighboring towns, another fever spread through the Massachusetts Bay Colony. An argument between the Royal Governor and James Franklin landed the latter in the jail, inspiring his brother to take up his cause in the name of freedom of the press. The events of 1721 not only set the stage for revolution, but helped shape the political and scientific mind of a young indentured man who would become known as “The First American.”
Mary Mann Hamilton lived through it all on the frontier of the Mississippi Delta. Later in life, with the encouragement of a family friend, she wrote her story down in Trials of the Earth: The True Story of a Pioneer Woman and entered it into a contest for publication. Thankfully, despite losing the contest the transcript eventually made its way to publication.
American history is presented undiluted by the lens of the modern historian or reimagined into a more relatable tale, where disease strikes once, neighbors aren’t constantly trying to swindle and cheat each other and children don’t make sport of shooting at escaped convicts. Hamilton presents her life in a very manner of fact fashion, to the point where her arduous daily tasks almost seem manageable. Whether it is cooking breakfast for an entire tree-felling labor camp, tending to infirm family members, keeping her head and that of her children above the rising flood waters or convincing her husband to indulge in his vice only in the privacy of their home, Mary Hamilton details an intense tale of another time.
Her direct style is a clear result of the frontier life that left no time for woolgathering or money to indulge in extravagances. It makes for a fascinating, unrelenting read you won't be able to put down. If you enjoyed either of the novels One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus or The Kitchen House by Kathleen Grissom, you should consider checking out this memoir.
As the turn of the 20th century neared, many London newspapers hawked the frenetic belief madness, criminality and disease plagued the lower classes more so than at any other time in history, thus endangering not only the future of the Kingdom but of the human race. When young Robert Coombes stabbed his sleeping mother to death and hired an addled-minded adult to help pawn the family’s belongings, no newspaper missed the opportunity to horrify the nation. Compounding the natural repulsion of matricide, Robert, his younger brother and their self-selected guardian enjoyed games of Cowboys and Indians in the backyard while Emily Coombes’ corpse rotted away in the upstairs bedroom. Kate Summerscale unwinds the facts and lies twisted into the half-truths printed at the time in The Wicked Boy: The Mystery of a Victorian Child Murderer.
Throughout the trial, much was made about how the lowbrow “penny dreadfuls” Robert read had influenced him, and the possibility that the shape of his head or the size of his brain might have affected his emotional state. Little attention was paid to the home environment or family unit. The science of the day deemed Robert to be insane at the time he committed the act. Summerscale follows Robert out of the Holloway Jail to the aptly named Murder’s Paradise at the Broadmoor Asylum, through his release and emigration to Australia, into the trenches of War World I and to an almost cosmic final purpose.
Bereaved fans of Ann Rule and anyone not so patiently waiting for the perpetually in development theatrical version of The Devil in the White City will enjoy this page-turner.