I never really thought about WWI and the 1918 flu pandemic as being particularly intertwined- in my mind, they were two terrible events that took place one after the other. This book makes it so evident how very connected these two events were. I was fascinated to read that the flu pandemic may have affected the end of the war significantly, as troops on all sides were falling ill and dying at extreme rates. Just, wow. Intense.
The subject matter is riveting, but I felt like the narrative jumped around quite a bit, both geographically and chronologically. I wished it were a bit more cohesive. Also, I felt like it could have been strengthened by more personal accounts from 1918.
Despite these drawbacks, this book really captures the hysteria and panic surrounding the pandemic- how relentless it was and how powerless people were to prevent it. I found it terribly sad that it took scientists decades to understand the causes of the flu.
Too, the author does an admirable job of addressing the way different populations were affected by the flu, including Native Americans, African Americans, recent immigrants, etc. He drives home the point that this pandemic affected all races, all classes.
I also appreciated the conclusion, which discusses the lasting effects of WWI and the flu hysteria in making America more isolationist. I appreciate the afterword in which the author stresses that a pandemic on this scale could happen again if we're not vigilant: "Ignorance, propaganda, and the deliberate resistance to scientific facts are extremely dangerous attitudes." AMEN.
On a personal note, I picked up this book because the 1918 flu pandemic is part of my family's history. My great-grandmother died from the flu in December 1918 after going to help out her sick neighbors. She left behind her infant daughter, my grandmother.
On page 149, author talks about cowardice as a negative result of the flu hysteria- "many people who turned their backs, too frightened to go to the aid of infected friends or family." Then, over the next few pages, he discusses the plight of flu orphans. It strikes me as very uncharitable that the author accuses people of cowardice for being afraid to help sick folks, even though he spends most of the book talking about how horribly contagious this disease was, and how swiftly it killed. That's quite a mixed message.
My great-grandmother died because she went and helped her flu-stricken neighbors. She only got to spend six months with her sweet baby, and my grandmother grew up without her mother- she was raised by her grandmother and other relatives because her father couldn't raise her alone. Her childhood was not a happy story. It's a tragedy-- but I guess, according to this author, I should be glad my great-grandmother wasn't cowardly? Hmm. I have some complicated feelings about this.