Fun nonfiction

Originally published in the Ketchikan Daily News, January 2013; written by Lisa Pearson.

My favorite section of the library is the nonfiction stacks. Sure, a lot of the shelves in nonfiction are lined with books full of practical information about dog training, high blood pressure, plumbing repair and using your computer’s operating system. But some of them are full of information that is fun, frivolous and entertaining.

“Egyptomania: our three thousand year obsession with the land of the pharaohs” is a tale of relocating obelisks, mistranslating hieroglyphs, romanticizing mummies and plundering tombs. Author Bob Brier lays out centuries of examples of Western fascination with an ancient Egyptian society that left behind just enough artifacts to hint about their culture. From enormous temples to walls covered with intricate hieroglyphs to tiny faience beads, these objects delineate a shadowy outline of what life was like in the time of the pharaohs. The Romans came in on the tail end of the Ancient Egyptian dynasties, and although they were quick to conquer the country, they were awed by the architecture and art of this civilization, and Julius Caesar was quite taken with the ruling pharaoh: Cleopatra. In the years before and after World War I, a flush of tomb discoveries and archaeological activity flooded museums and galleries with the remnants of the ancient Egyptians. It was left to the artists, writers, movie makers and advertising agencies of Europe and the Americas to guess at the details. The results were sometimes silly and often wrong, but usually quite beautiful. The allure of the pyramids continues today. Whether it’s Elizabeth Taylor as a sultry Cleopatra or the Bangles walking like Egyptians, there’s something about that culture that fascinates.

Historian John McMillian devotes 300 pages to that age-old argument: who was greater, the Rolling Stones or the Beatles? In his new book “Beatles vs. Stones”, he looks at the parallel careers of the two bands, and shows that a lot of the supposed rivalry and ill-feeling between the Beatles and the Stones was actually conjured up by the publicity machines of managers, record executives and the media. In fact, the members of the two groups socialized, collaborated artistically and had a shared interest in fashion, drugs and Indian mysticism. According to McMillian, the members of the two bands were not oblivious to the marketing of their ‘good’ and ‘bad’ images, and often played up their roles in the way they dressed, behaved, and composed their music. Using a wide array of interviews, biographies and articles from the fanzines of the period, McMillian shines a new light not only on the band members themselves, but also on the commercialism underlying the supposedly anti-establishment youth culture of the time.

“Explore Everything: place-hacking the city” is by Bradley Garrett. He is a photographer, archaeologist and urban explorer. Combining these three interests, he is able to go into a metropolis teeming with people and document scenes and perspectives that the residents themselves have never seen. The chapter on how to infiltrate a skyscraper under construction is fascinating (as are the accompanying photos taken atop cranes, scaffolding and antennae). The urban explorer is presented as a daredevil, a subversive, a hacker. In another chapter Garrett presents his role as more of an historian, documenting crumbling buildings like factories, military installations and mental hospitals, capturing the physical reminders of past industries, Cold War politics and changed society. Throughout his book are the difficulties that urban explorers face in this age of terrorism and heightened alerts. It’s not always a case of security guard vs. punk trespasser, and in London the authorities have become justifiably touchy about unauthorized access to construction sites, sewers, and the Underground. Part travelogue, part sociology, Garrett’s book will make you look at things with a different eye the next time you are in the city.