Book review: Men Have Called Her Crazy

Men Have Called Her Crazy begins with Anna Marie Tendler’s arrival at an inpatient psychiatric hospital. After five years with her therapist, the two have come to an impasse. By taking a more intensive approach to her mental health, Anna discovers her therapist’s evaluation of her intense suicidal ideation, self-harm, and disordered eating is much more nuanced than that.

Anna’s forthright manner makes the reader comfortable with the in-patient setting. She not only explains what goes on in the admittance process, for example, but why it’s necessary. After all, readers are curious! She describes what the daily structure is like and how patients interact within this bubble. So it is not something terrifying like Girl, Interrupted nor a luxury detox rehab.

Anna arrives at the medical campus angry and distrustful of men following a failed marriage. She refuses to live in a co-ed dorm and eating meals with men makes her uncomfortable. Most of her doctors are men, however, and as Anna correctly explains, the standard for modern psychology is based on straight, white, cis-gendered males. Using clinical testing techniques in a live-in setting—and most importantly, explaining their conclusions to Anna—the doctors help Anna start to rebuild her foundation. And while her experience is generally positive, it’s a harsh reminder of how doctors—and men in general—oversimplify the complexities that women present, often with little context.

Part of dealing with psychological issues is confronting the past. Anna weaves in scenes from her traumatic childhood, age-inappropriate exploits, artistic endeavors and failures, lavish parties with a condescending millionaire, and hanging around Hollywood sets. Men are featured as vignettes that explain her psyche, while her nameless ex-husband hovers in the book’s shadows.

By writing her memoir, Anna regains her own power. Throughout it all, she relies on the strengths of her female friendships and the love for her dog Petunia. She chooses the narrative—instead of letting the tabloids do it.

rating: ★★★★★

Men Have Called Her Crazy
by Anna Marie Tendler
Simon & Schuster

Book review: Vampires: A Handbook of History & Lore of the Undead

It’s ironic that 15th-century Vlad the Impaler became mixed up with the folklore of a bloodsucking vampire. Vlad III of Wallachia, son of Vlad II Dracul, was known for his military exploits. And while he did own a castle in Transylvania (present-day Romania), Prince Vlad wasn’t the intimate type who would suck the lifeblood of his victims. Instead, he preferred impaling his enemies on wooden stakes, watching them writhe in agony until death overtook them.

Bram Stoker may have used Vlad’s home, his Dracula title, and his age—centuries old—in the 1897 gothic horror novel, but not the man’s character. In Stoker's book, Count Dracula displayed aristocratic demeanor and charm, despite living in a crumbling castle.

In Vampires: A Handbook of History & Lore of the Undead by Agnes Hollyhock, we learn the Count was a revenant, a reanimated corpse who haunted the living. While we may be accustomed to the stylings of Dracula through such characters as Barnabas Collins of Dark Shadows, Lestat de Lioncourt from The Vampire Chronicles, or Edward Cullen from Twilight, different kinds of vampires show up in mythology, folklore, fiction, and even the Bible. 

Hollyhock covers vampires around the world and across the ages, their strengths and weaknesses, connections to certain diseases, and, most fascinating to me, why the idea of vampirism grew during the Medieval ages. 

Luckily, the author provides techniques for banishing the undead—you know, just in case. After all, there are rumors about Vlad the Impaler's demise, including his beheading, but no one knows for certain where his body is buried.

rating: ★★★★

Vampires: A Handbook of History & Lore of the Undead

by Agnes Hollyhock
Wellfleet Press

Book review: Cult Following: The Extreme Sects That Capture Our Imaginations―and Take Over Our Lives

J.W. Ocker’s compass leads him to oddities the world over, so writing about cults is definitely within his milieu. This time, it’s not a travelogue and thankfully not an immersive experience, since it’s difficult to extract people from cults. Then we’d miss out on Ocker’s way with words, like heading a chapter “A Fetish for Feet and Fraud,” or his important clues to avoid joining such a sect.

What’s scary is cult followers are seeking acceptance and purpose in their lives, and they’re not so different from you and me. Ocker neatly uses what they seek as section heads: truth, protection, purpose, salvation, and/or betterment. He also explains the attributes of the leaders, who tend to be charismatic but have deep flaws, and why people follow them. What struck me most was how many cults believe in aliens and being saved from apocalypses.

You’ve heard of the Branch Davidians, the Manson Family, and Heaven’s Gate in the media. It’s like we’re compelled to tune in to these horror stories. Ocker explains how 30 cults formed, their beliefs, and their outcomes. He also mentions well-known people who were adherents and survived as well as those doing prison time. Some of these cults are still active and new ones are always assembling.

A fascinating read. 

rating: ★★★★

Cult Following: The Extreme Sects That Capture Our Imaginations―and Take Over Our Lives
by J.W. Ocker
Quirk Books 

Book review: Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain

Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain by Ed Simon is a cultural extravaganza, covering theatrical works, music, art, and literature with a dash of history, science, and technology. It would make an interesting multimedia presentation if the book were packaged with Tartini’s “Devil’s Trill Sonata” and Robert Johnson’s “Cross Road Blues,” scenes from Marlowe and Goethe plays, and art by Goya and Delacroix. After all, not all these works are familiar to the average reader.

Some early stories from the Bible and Apocrypha don’t fulfill the devil’s contract. For instance, Jesus wandered 40 days in the wilderness and rejected the devil’s tests. Simon Magus—a sorcerer who bewitched the people of Samaria—listened to Philip the Evangelist preach, believed, and was baptized. But when Simon saw the apostles laying on of hands, he wanted to buy that power, but was denied. Author Ed Simon uses these stories to set up the next stage.

During the Inquisitions and subsequent witch trials, interrogators steeped in demonology coerced victims under torture to claim relationships with the devil. That contract needed a name. So, in the late 16th century, German alchemist and sorcerer Johann Faust went from folk legend to the archetype of one who sold his soul to the devil. His supposed deed influenced writers, artists, musicians, and more. In fact, Simon even gets into a groove where his phraseology changes, skipping over verbs, waxing lyrical.

And then he comes crashing down. By chapter 10, Simon inserts his 21st century ideals onto 17th century life in the New World when writing about the 1692 Salem witch trials. He also, like many high school English teachers, gets caught up in Arthur Miller’s 1953 play, The Crucible, which rewrites actual history into a story of an affair that never happened.

Simon then trounces the Puritans and their Calvinist religion hard, with their theft of native lands, slavery, misogyny, and belief in predestination. Here, he believes that the Faustian bargain is written in the town charters, not between, say, the devil and an accused witch.

Curiously, though, by the third generation—around the time of the witch trials—many Massachusetts Bay people were moving away from Calvinism, forcing religious leaders to compromise with the Halfway Covenant and other religious principles. Plus, the dying off of the older generations—like Judge William Stoughton—also made way for more liberal ideas and beliefs, leading to another revolt of “no taxation without representation.”

But Simon doesn’t acknowledge that progress and holds Salem—not Boston, New York City, or Los Angeles—accountable for turning the United States into a Faustian Republic. Then he closes his diatribe with another religious metaphor, the Apocalypse.

Devil’s Contract begins with a journey through the Arts, then takes a wild hairpin turn. Halfway through, it’s as if Simon had a dark epiphany that changed the direction of his writing. It’s unsettling. And maybe that’s the point.

rating: ★★★

Devil's Contract: The History of the Faustian Bargain
by Ed Simon
Melville House Publishing

Book review: The Shortest History of Sex

A fast-paced and often humorous read, The Shortest History of Sex covers two billion years, from the big bang and microbes all the way down the evolutionary tree to humans. The book explores how the complex sex lives of primates transformed into the weird and wonderful aspects of human sexuality from our foraging ancestors to our futuristic selves. 

Without judgment, David Baker takes us on this long, strange trip, uncovering instinctual behaviors, multifaceted passions, relationship patterns, curious desires, and so much more. You may not learn new bedroom tricks but you may be able to explain your peccadillo by saying the bonobos did it too. 

rating: ★★★★★

The Shortest History of Sex: Two Billion Years of Procreation and Recreation
by David Baker
The Experiment

Book review: Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials

In Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials, Marion Gibson argues that witch trials from the late Medieval period to today were motivated not by the Bible but by demonology.

While the Bible does say “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live” (KJV, Exodus 22:18), it doesn't offer much detail. Demonologies, however, mostly focused on women—the weaker sex—succumbing to the forked-tongue lies of Satan’s minions. Misogyny was rampant, especially in male-dominated arenas like religion and government. Over the last 700 years, the most common trait of a witch was being female (though not all the accused were).

As Gibson discusses, German churchman and demonologist Heinrich Kramer (c. 1430-1505) failed in his first attempt to destroy the “witches” of Innsbruck, Austria. But afterward, he wrote the exceptionally popular Malleus Maleficarum in 1487, also known as The Hammer of Witches. By 1600, about 45 demonology titles were published in Western Europe, including one by King James VI of Scotland (later James I of England). These books were widely circulated among churchmen, rulers, the upper classes, and scholars—including Judge William Stoughton and ministers Cotton Mather and Samuel Parris, all of whom influenced the Salem witch trials in 1692.

For the Salem story, Gibson focuses on “Tatabe,” Parris’ Indian servant who had a prominent but short-lived role early in the Salem witch trials. Under duress, Tituba (falsely) confessed to practicing witchcraft but was not executed, while the ones who claimed their innocence at trial were. Instead of the power of Tituba’s testimony and its many parallels to British witchcraft beliefs, Gibson concentrates on the hypothetical Arawak birth story from Elaine Breslaw’s Tituba, Reluctant Witch of Salem. Highlighting those parallels would have helped to debunk the voodoo myths surrounding Tituba, often told by misguided writers and tour guides who haven’t delved into the original records.

Thirteen Trials includes cases from Europe, Africa, and the Americas, covering a wide variety of situations, cultures, and time periods. It’s a fascinating read, with each history connected to the underlying premise of misogyny and violence against women.

Today, in Salem and elsewhere, “people who have redefined witchcraft and embraced the identity of ‘witch’” embody the medieval demonologists’ worst nightmares (ch. 13).

rating: ★★★★

Witchcraft: A History in Thirteen Trials
by Marion Gibson
Scribner Book Company

Book review: The Evolution of Religions: A History of Related Traditions

Comparative religion books are often written by religious scholars or historians. But this one has a twist: It’s written by a scientist—an evolutionary biologist and systematist to be exact. 

There’s beauty in having a scientist write such a book. Lance Grande remains neutral, or agnostic if you will, to the different religions. His purpose is to analyze how organized religions came into being, how they change and evolve over time, and how they create new groups and subgroups—or become extinct.

Organized religions developed from early supernaturalism into Asian cyclicism, Old World polytheism, linear monotheism, traditional and reformation Christianity, gnosticism and Biblical demiurgism, and Islam. Grande focuses on each group’s origin and development, doctrines, rituals/practices, and supernatural beings/deities from prehistoric times to today. 

From that evolutionary perspective, Grande discovers the history of related traditions (as in the title). He shows how, for example, the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) are historically and ideologically intertwined, but also how they diversified—by using historical and scriptural records. The amazingly detailed charts help us visualize the relationships between religions and the subgroups that grew out of them, while the sidebars, images, and glossary provide additional context.

It’s an imperfect science due to changing archaeological interpretations and new discoveries, variables in oral traditions and written transcriptions, and the physical destruction or recovery of scriptures. That's why Grande created the framework and then invited others to fill in the missing pieces and build upon his work.

The Evolution of Religions is a big book, but it’s written methodically so you’ll understand the broad concepts behind many organized religions around the world.

rating: ★★★★★

The Evolution of Religions: A History of Related Traditions
by Lance Grande
Columbia University Press