I loved this book completely and unreservedly. Ms. Amy Butler Greenfield wrote a book that could not have been better designed to my taste if it was composed entirely of dark chocolate, laced with espresso and butterscotch, and served with whipped cream.
This is one-item history at its absolute best, using the history of a commodity (in this case, the insect cochineal) to create a vivid picture of trading patterns, scientific disputes, cultural mores, colonialism, artisanal infighting, and misguided experiments in horticulture.
This is a short book, but it manages to present a coherent, easy to follow narrative that still covers 300+ years and events on multiple continents. I was especially impressed by the informed and well-phrased way in which Greenfield filled in perspective on things like trade wars, Elizabethan cultural politics, Italian guilds, cross-continent supply chains, the alchemical dabblings of scientists like Newton, and personal clashes between early microscope wielding scientists, all without dropping the forward thread and momentum of her story. I can't even sustain that in a sentence (see previous) and she managed it for a whole book.
There were spies, monsters, misguided but well-intentioned people, mysterious machinists, disguises, exploitation, cruelty - honestly, it felt a bit like the blurb the grand-dad gives the kid when he starts reading him The Princess Bride. Greenfield was especially good at noting the effects of global trade on and the perspectives of the people raising and harvesting the cochineal - both in South American regions and in other areas around the globe where Europeans tried (unsuccessfully) to set up new commercial plantations. Her notations about social class and its relation to color as chemical dyes changed accessibility to brightly colored cloth were also great.
As is probably expected with a book this dense and well paced, the bibliography is huge and interesting. This would be an outstanding research book for anyone creating a secondary world fantasy, well suited to helping them avoid the kind of errors lambasted in The Tough Guide to Fantasyland. It's also a really delightful read and manages to confront a lot of darkness and inequity without being, overall, depressing or (I think) too triggery.
This is one-item history at its absolute best, using the history of a commodity (in this case, the insect cochineal) to create a vivid picture of trading patterns, scientific disputes, cultural mores, colonialism, artisanal infighting, and misguided experiments in horticulture.
This is a short book, but it manages to present a coherent, easy to follow narrative that still covers 300+ years and events on multiple continents. I was especially impressed by the informed and well-phrased way in which Greenfield filled in perspective on things like trade wars, Elizabethan cultural politics, Italian guilds, cross-continent supply chains, the alchemical dabblings of scientists like Newton, and personal clashes between early microscope wielding scientists, all without dropping the forward thread and momentum of her story. I can't even sustain that in a sentence (see previous) and she managed it for a whole book.
There were spies, monsters, misguided but well-intentioned people, mysterious machinists, disguises, exploitation, cruelty - honestly, it felt a bit like the blurb the grand-dad gives the kid when he starts reading him The Princess Bride. Greenfield was especially good at noting the effects of global trade on and the perspectives of the people raising and harvesting the cochineal - both in South American regions and in other areas around the globe where Europeans tried (unsuccessfully) to set up new commercial plantations. Her notations about social class and its relation to color as chemical dyes changed accessibility to brightly colored cloth were also great.
As is probably expected with a book this dense and well paced, the bibliography is huge and interesting. This would be an outstanding research book for anyone creating a secondary world fantasy, well suited to helping them avoid the kind of errors lambasted in The Tough Guide to Fantasyland. It's also a really delightful read and manages to confront a lot of darkness and inequity without being, overall, depressing or (I think) too triggery.