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juushikaTitle: The Poisoner's Handbook: Murder and the Birth of Forensic Medicine in Jazz Age New York
Author: Deborah Blum
Published: New York: Penguin, 2011 (2010)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 330
Total Page Count: 201,885
Text Number: 595
Read Because: recommended here, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A history of the birth of forensic science in New York 1915-1940, focusing on the work of Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler. The majority of the poisons discussed are institutional and political, like the toxic black market during Prohibition and the unexpected dangers of newly-discovered radioactive elements. Individual murders are secondary, which make the title somewhat deceptive. Norris and Gettler are worthy subjects, admirably driven but mostly unidealized—as are their methods and the justice system. The scope and cast makes for an occasionally confusing narrative and forced chapter structure, and Blum's writing has awkward moments, but this is an approachable history on the whole, workmanlike but engaging, with an appropriate hint of gallows humor. It wasn't exactly what I expected, but I enjoyed it well enough, and would recommend it.
I admire the necessary morbid humor that seems to be present in most death-related professions, but imagine putting a murder-carpet in the lounge of that place where you and your coworkers study lots of dead bodies; it's beautiful.
Author: Deborah Blum
Published: New York: Penguin, 2011 (2010)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 330
Total Page Count: 201,885
Text Number: 595
Read Because: recommended here, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: A history of the birth of forensic science in New York 1915-1940, focusing on the work of Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler. The majority of the poisons discussed are institutional and political, like the toxic black market during Prohibition and the unexpected dangers of newly-discovered radioactive elements. Individual murders are secondary, which make the title somewhat deceptive. Norris and Gettler are worthy subjects, admirably driven but mostly unidealized—as are their methods and the justice system. The scope and cast makes for an occasionally confusing narrative and forced chapter structure, and Blum's writing has awkward moments, but this is an approachable history on the whole, workmanlike but engaging, with an appropriate hint of gallows humor. It wasn't exactly what I expected, but I enjoyed it well enough, and would recommend it.
One slightly blood-splattered carpet from a murder investigation was eventually salvaged to cover the floor of the Country Club [aka the coroner's] lounge.
I admire the necessary morbid humor that seems to be present in most death-related professions, but imagine putting a murder-carpet in the lounge of that place where you and your coworkers study lots of dead bodies; it's beautiful.
