I really generally try to avoid giving a book one star. It seems petty. It seems unbelievable that a book has no redeeming qualities at all. But all in all, I swear to god above that if you gave me the choice to go back and read this book, or contract Malaria, I'd choose the Malaria.
Let me also say here at the beginning that this book isn't totally absent of redeeming qualities. The first two chapters, and the last chapter, are half decent, they are simply not good enough to even remotely make up for what an unmitigated swamp the rest of the book is. What's frustrating is that I think this topic, in the hands of someone more skilled/adept in epidemiology, could have been explosive, informative, vastly interesting, and monumental -- but Winegard (even by his own admission) has no epidemiological background, and his work severely suffers as a result.
This isn't to say that experts can never cross-disciplines to write good works, but in this case, this topic was done a massive disservice in that it was written by someone who was first and foremost concerned with writing love letters to history's most brutal military leaders. What was billed as a book on the Mosquito, and its part in savaging human history, even determining it, was in truth nothing more than an ode to several military leaders. A better title for this book might have been "A brief history of every military leader and battle you have ever heard of, with the mention that they might have encountered mosquitos!"
Furthermore, in an effort to prove the point that he so eagerly wanted to make, Winegard makes draws so many insufferable conclusions that are either flimsy, or blatantly dishonest. He unequivocally declares that Malaria killed Alexander the Great, despite it being impossible to determine exactly what killed Alexander, and despite the cause of death being fairly well-debated among historians. While it's not out of line to use evidence to perhaps make a supported claim that Alexander the Great contracted and died of Malaria, Winegard does not do this: he just basically assumes that since mosquitos existed around Alexander, he got Malaria, and it killed him -- because that proves the point Winegard wants to make.
Winegard also makes this same shoddy conclusion about the Plague of Athens, despite multiple health experts and paleopathologists generally agreeing that the Plague of Athens was typhus. In fact, of all the possible plagues that struck Athens, Malaria is not even in the top five contenders amongst experts. It was precisely at this point that instead of merely reading this book, I started fact checking it. The claims Winegard made in these two cases had no foundation (either it doesn't exist, or he didn't adequately provide it and then build upon it, which is an egregious misstep in nonfiction writing). Throughout the book, Winegard went out of his way to diagnose historical figures with malaria, without providing documented proof, or even citing the assumptions of experts in disease. It resulted in eroding his authority on any topic, and made me both skeptical and scornful of the rest of his work.
Other irritants in the book include his constant, random references to pop culture that cut into the narrative in clunky, awkward ways and did not make the book more readable, relatable, or interesting in any matter. For much of the book, he almost uses the words "malaria" and "mosquito" interchangeably, devotes no attention to any other mosquito-borne illness until the last few pages of the book, and operates in cringe-worthy hyperbole and euphemism that give the entire book a weirdly sexual feel -- why are the mosquitos always feasting their succubus fangs on virgins? This metaphor gets tired quickly, and after it gets tired, it gets downright grotesque. In this vein, he also inserts tireless personal stories that are anecdotal at best, and don't actually scientifically support any of the arguments he is trying to make.
Furthermore, at one point Winegard borders on biological racism by declaring firmly (in "Accidental Conquests, page 177 in my book) that "...in an unforeseen genetic, but nevertheless cruel, biting twist of mosquito-deriven irony, these African traits of natural selection against mosquito-borne diseases ensured their survival, which ensured their enslavement." --
Let's get one thing straight; evolution did not ensure anyone's enslavement. Evolution properly outfitted certain groups of people to exist in their environment in the most harmonious or defensive way. The brutal, colonizing, imperialist ambitions of an invading people enslaved Africans due to their own gluttonous evil; nothing about the biological advantages of African people predisposed them to be slaves as a result of their adaptation to their environment. While I think this is certainly a problem of phrasing rather than Winegard's actual beliefs, it stuck out so sourly that I read even more carefully.
On that note -- at one point, during a nonsensical discussion of Percy Shelley and Lord Byron, Winegard inserts this aside: "despite rumors, they were not lovers" - which, considering the sexual and emotional tendencies of Shelley and Byron are not the focus of the book and are, in fact, a topic of intense study re: whether or not they were lovers, seemed like a blatantly homophobic comment to insert. I may be nitpicking or reading into this because (as demonstrated) I hated this book, but really -- was it necessary to declare, in a book about mosquitos, that two men DEFINITELY WERE NOT LOVERS? Reinforcing that they were straight in a book that has nothing to do with it is...telling.
Let's see, let's see...I annotated this book beyond belief, and felt varying levels of skepticism, annoyance, outright anger, and frustrating while reading it. I finished it because I loathe not finishing books. Suffice it to say, in closing, that this book was under-researched, its conclusions were badly supported, its footnotes were often completely useless bits of Jeopardy trivia, and it suffered from an overall obvious lack of expertise.
To put it more simply, it read like an undergraduate research paper that eagerly posited a question that research did not answer, or a hypothesis that experimental results did not support, and in turn, the undergraduate kept using adjectives (like malarial) and far-reaching assumptions (the Plague of Athens was Malaria, kids!) to prove their point because they were too stubborn to give up on their big idea.
I would love seeing this topic tackled by a paleopathologist or an epidemiologist, but I think it's clear beyond clear that Timothy Winegard should stick to military history.