The Shadow-gloom and Weight of the Sacred

Recently, I read Erik Larson's nonfiction book The Devil in the White City: Murder, Magic, and Madness at the Fair That Changed America. Published in 2003, I remember this book being popular and wanting to read it, but until a few weeks ago, I never had the opportunity.

Focusing upon the development and celebration of the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago, The Devil in the White City primarily follows two players: (1) Daniel Burnham, the chief architect of the World's Fair and (2) H.H. Holmes, a conman who is now considered by many to have been America's first serial killer. These two men never cross paths, but as Burnham's fair provided the hunting grounds for Holmes, their stories are engaging and appropriate when shared in tandem. And, this is the format generally followed by The Devil in the White City: a chapter dedicated to Daniel Burnham and his associates followed by a chapter dedicated to H.H. Holmes and his victims. Until the end of the book, that is, when chapters are then dedicated towards Frank Geyer's investigation of three missing children, which leads him to Holmes.

Chapters focusing on Burnham reveal the tense political situation surrounding the 1893 World's Fair and the pursuit to provide an architectural marvel that would surpass in wonder the tower built by Eiffel at the Paris World's Fair in 1889. Burnham eventually concludes that George Washington Gale Ferris's rotating wheel was the attraction the fair needed to compete with Paris expo of a few years prior. Chapters focusing on Holmes describe how he conned his way into ownership of an entire city block not far from the soon-to-be location of fair and how he built a "murder castle" disguised as hotel (shops and a pharmacy were located along the ground floor).

There are no boring moments in this book. It reads like a novel, which is perhaps why Larson issues a warning at the book's start: this is a real story. Larson's storytelling is always engaging, even when describing the process by which skyscrapers are built in Chicago (indeed, this was one of my favorite moments in the book). People interested in history will enjoy this book, as will people who enjoy an engrossing murder-mystery, though there is no mystery as to who the murderer is. But, The Devil in the White City is not a true crime book. It describes a specific moment in history, focusing on two primary players. This in and of itself may be enthralling to many readers as we tend to encounter our history in much broader strokes (e.g., World War II, the 60s, the presidency of Bill Clinton) than what is presented in Larson's book. In fact, I suspect there are few people to whom I'd fail to recommend this book. Most people will find it a fascinating and educating book.