Let’s start with the obvious: if you’re even a little squeamish, this might not be the book for you. But if you’re like me and enjoy a good dive into the gritty, bizarre history of medicine, then this is a must-read. Lindsey Fitzharris has this gift of making history come alive—kind of ironic, considering she’s talking about a time when most people didn’t.
The book zeroes in on Joseph Lister, the pioneer of antiseptic surgery. You might think, “How thrilling could Victorian surgical practices be?” The answer is... very. Fitzharris captures the chaos of overcrowded hospitals, the darkly funny moments (yes, there are some), and the sheer horror of surgeries before people understood germs were a thing. She doesn’t sugarcoat a thing, and somehow that makes it all the more fascinating.
What I loved most was the pacing. It reads like a thriller, not a dry history textbook. You’re rooting for Lister as he battles skepticism and tries to convince people that washing their hands could save lives (shocking, I know). It’s a perfect blend of science, history, and storytelling.
My only nitpick? It made me a little too grateful for modern medicine. I mean, who wants to think about how many people died from gangrene before doctors figured out germ theory?
If you’re into medical history or enjoy stories of perseverance against all odds, give this one a shot. It’s dark, intense, and weirdly uplifting.