Dark Carnivals: Modern Horror and the Origins of American Empire

by W. Scott Poole

From Invasion of the Body Snatchers to Get Out, Dark Carnivals tells the panoramic story of the filmmakers and writers who, through their work in the horror genre, asked us to imagine the consequences of unchecked American power dominating the world

With Dark Carnivals, author W. Scott Poole, an expert in horror and its impact on American history, reveals how the horror genre as a way of seeing the world has become one of the most incisive critiques of America and its history and influence around the globe.

Following World War II, America took its place on the world stage, its growing imperial shadow becoming ever more evident. But even as the American empire emerged, propaganda at home convinced ordinary Americans that their country kept its hands clean on the world stage. The nation, enshrined in the aspirational words of its founding documents, found itself enjoying a primal innocence, despite a host of evil forces insidiously growing more rooted each day: racism and violence, deadly viruses and fear of the other.

From the Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956) to Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) to Get Out (2017), horror films have long acted as the shadow that reveals uncomfortable political realities and inhuman crimes perpetrated by the United States for the last century with near impunity. In fact, the influence of American horror culture—in films, literature, online forums, and even video games—continues into our contemporary experience, continually challenging the myth of American innocence and exceptionalism, acknowledging our culpability abroad, and, most importantly, our failures at home.

Genres: Horror, History, Nonfiction, American History, Film, Politics, American

384 pages, Kindle Edition

First published October 4, 2022

Reviews

[Bandit · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ah, my reward for getting through this very heavy (in every sense of the word) tome is to be the first to review it. Ok, so…
This was meant to me my smart book of the month and sure enough…combining two things I enjoy: historical nonfiction and my beloved fictional genre, the author explores the not inconsiderable connection between the two, specifically the way the latter reflects the former.
If you somehow expected an encomium of the great again country and the fun scary stories it inspires, this isn’t a book for you. Oh, no.
Poole, who is - based on his previous published work - an expert on both subjects, presents a much more terrifying picture of a country gone mad with power and a genre that has done so well to reflect this madness.
In this book, unjust wars lead to dancing with chainsaws and ever-increasing social inequality results in purges, one greater than the next.
Poole’s America is an empire more so than a democracy. The amount of effort taken lately to undermine that democracy makes it difficult to argue this posit, but Poole goes further saying that it wasn’t much of a democracy to begin with. Much more of an empire. Built on war, conquest, genocide, power, blood. Like many empires - evil.
And no greater reflection of that than the genre that thrives on evil.
And so, to support this thesis, Poole takes the readers on a harrowing journey through American past with heavy focus on US meddling in other countries by flexing its sizable military muscles. With dictators installed and supported, wars waged and assisted, money and power applied precisely and strategically, USA has been a major player on the global arena. It is Poole’s assertion that the role has been that of an antagonist. Albeit one who doesn’t think of themselves that way, one that categorically thinks themselves and their actions heroic.
This book isn’t merely critical, it’s pretty much a vicious incisive opprobrium. And, unlike most such things seen in media, it’s loaded with supporting facts. Well, the historical aspect of it, anyway. Although the media (books and movies both) criticism is quite clever too.
Like most people with a hammerlike aim and determination, Poole does view most things he comes across as nails, but it’s difficult to fault him for the overall presentation is well written, well researched, coherent, intelligent, and very strong. A powerhouse, really.
Might not be the most palatable food for thought, but plenty of it. Plenty.
It took me a while to get through but was very well worth a read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

This and more at https://advancetheplot.weebly.com/

[Kevin Halter · Rating 2 out of 5]

Dark Carnivals by W. Scott Poole was not what I was expecting.
With the tag "Modern Horror and the Origins of American Empire" I was expecting more about horror as a genre, but this seems to be more the horror of American Empire.
It's a well written book but is more of a condemnation of capitalism and American Empire than a look at Modern Horror. What nuggets about horror there are seemed to be used primarily to show how American empire is worse than any fictional monster or killer.
My appreciation of the book never really recovered from my disappointment of the lack of any substantive look at Modern Horror.
Thanks to #Netgalley, #Catapult, and W. Scott Poole for the ARC of #DarkCarnivals.

[Pauline Stout · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book aims to follow the rise of the American horror film and how it parallels American politics and the rise of the American empire both at home and abroad. It aims to show how viewing American history through the lens of horror films has left us somewhat numb to the atrocities that the US has inflected on the rest of the world. It talks about a smattering of films from the introduction of what we would now call a horror film, including the history of the genre, all the way up to the time that this book was written.

I got this because I’m a huge horror movie fan and I was looking forward to an in depth discussion of the films in question and their relation to politics. In my opinion that isn’t really the bulk of this book. Don’t get me wrong, there are several very short sections where it talks about certain movies but a good 90% if this book is dedicated to politics. It took me way longer to read this than usual as a result of that. I admit that this complaint is most likely a me thing.

The politics sections of the book are very well written and researched. You can tell that a lot of work went into this to try to make it as accurate as humanly possible. Like I said this is 100% a me thing but I thought that there would be equal attention paid to the films being talked about here and the actual politics of the story. The book is almost all politics though and it was an active pain for me to read. People that are actively interested in the subject or politics as a whole are probably going to feel very different from me about this. It was just way too much for my taste with not enough movie content sprinkled in.

I have a lot of issues with the movie section of this despite the fact that this section is so small. Some of the connections were brilliant but many of them were stretched to within an inch of their lives. Zombies somehow became an allegory for almost every single thing talked about in the book. Some films were included that almost none would classify as a horror movie (Independence Day and Deep Impact among them) and some of the films are blatantly misrepresented. In one of the more egregious examples is this, there is a section on “cannibal tribe in the jungle” films and one of the films cites is Cannibal Holocaust. I don’t know if the author didn’t watch the film or he’s hoping that the people reading this book haven’t but including it here is 100% missing the point of the film. It was not filmed as a serious example of the genre. It was a parody/satire/call out. The goal of making it was to show how terrible films like it are. It is extremely obvious by the end that the film maker main characters are the villains of the story and the tribe they are filming are the victims.

It also contains a section on horror video games (mostly games that include zombies) where it compares the killing of zombies in game to actual genocide.

Overall I would have to say that the is a passable book. I didn’t hate it but I also wasn’t a big fan. If you like reading about politics and particularly the politics of the United States I would recommend this. If you go into this wanting to read about the movies you are going to be disappointed.

[lindsi · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was a really interesting read to me because the author himself reproduces much of the “schizophrenia” that he ascribes to the American psyche surrounding empire. He manages to accurately identify and describe the horrifying violence of empire and savagely condemn it, while still parroting many of the very myths that the US empire uses to justify its violence. At times, he seems acutely aware of the pitfalls of writing about empire and white supremacy as a white American leftist, but then continues blundering right into them anyway.

Although frustrating, in a way this made me enjoy the book even more, because it made the book itself an example of the funhouse mirror effect that horror fiction media has on the realities of war and imperialism — reenacting the violence of empire for audiences to consume in an attempt to shock and even educate them, but ultimately still presenting a highly distorted, Americentric picture of the world that’s palatable to consumers. This book is much the same — attempting to say something provocative and true, but too often pulling its punches to protect the reader from having to face the very worst realities of American hegemony.

*Note: the version I read was an ARC, so there might be significant changes to the final publishing run.

[Phyllis | Mocha Drop · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an notable entry that examines American History via the depictions in the cinematic horror films and related genres - ranging from the nuanced to blockbuster films. It examines the section of society who support these films and the motivations of those who make them which were largely political and propagandist to influence the masses. The book delves heavily into how these films influenced and reflected the American agenda both domestically and internationally. Following the author’s rationale makes this an interesting (and well-researched) read – I found the narrative led to some questionable (at times, yet clever) connections and conclusions.

Overall, I’d say this novel is more of an analysis on American imperialism and history rather than a deep dive into the Horror genre. It was an intellectually stimulating departure appropriate for the Halloween Season and for that I enjoyed the literary adventure.

Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an opportunity to review.

[Erin O'Riordan · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is smartly written. The only issue I have with it is that some of the very good and valid points could have been explored in much more depth. I especially would have liked the last chapter and epilogue to have been expanded. Second edition, please.

[Andy Kristensen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dark Carnivals is a dense but immensely readable examination of America’s Imperial Empire from about the time of World War I to the present day, with a heavy focus on the wrongdoings of the U.S. government against both its own people who aren’t the stereotypical American citizen (basically everyone who isn’t a straight white male) and the countless millions of foreigners who have been unluckily forced to deal with the American machines of Big Business and War, both seen and unseen. At the same time, there’s just enough riffing on Horror culture thrown in, with a heavy emphasis on movies at the expense of books and TV shows, which seeks to explain why certain genres of horror were popular during each decade of the twentieth century, told through the lens of what ‘ordinary Americans’ feared at the time.

First of all, this book is great. It’s well-researched, contains fact-based arguments, and eviscerates the typical American perspective on its own history, especially the kind of history related to the rise of the world’s sole remaining superpower. Whereas most history books/textbooks shy away from the horrors of what the U.S. government did to its own people who weren’t straight white males, Poole goes all in on an examination of the absolute hypocrisies of political and governmental leaders during the twentieth and early twenty-first century, with a good dash of shots at major American businesses and corporations thrown in as well. In a way, it’s very Zinn-esque, and it makes for a scorching critique of the American Dream and Ideal. At the same time, Poole’s own personal politics aren’t explicitly acknowledged until the epilogue of the book, and, while it’s kind of obvious what they must be based on some of his arguments and non-idolization of people like Ronald Reagan, his beliefs in the context of his arguments never once overwhelm the actual substance of the book. To me, it read like I was sitting down and having a beer with one of my college professors (which, in fact, makes sense, as Poole is a professor at the College of Charleston in South Carolina), and I mean that in the best way—his arguments are cogent, easily understood, and backed up with historical fact and detailed analysis.

One of the only reasons this didn’t get five stars is because of where Horror comes into this, and I mean Horror with a capital H. Based off the description of the book, one would assume that there would be an equal spotlight given to both the history of how America became an imperialistic empire and the Horror culture that accompanied the rise of today’s modern superpower. Instead, the book seems to explain and expound on trends in the horror genre almost as an afterthought, with many of the chapters starting with a historical examination of a certain American event or trend (i.e. the dawn of the Atomic Age in the late ‘40s/early ‘50s or the Iran-Contra Affair in the late ‘80s) and then throwing in some movies that were around at the same time and trying to tie the two together. Further, Poole almost exclusively focuses on horror cinema, with almost zero discussion of horror TV (there’s a mention of American Horror Story all the way at the end and a longer diatribe on The Twilight Zone earlier in the book), a slightly more substantial discussion of horror books (while Ray Bradbury and mid-century science fiction are discussed at length in a few chapters, there is almost no mention of the reigning champion of everything Horror over the last forty-plus years, aka Stephen King, and it seems like a striking omission), and a small discussion of video games, specifically Resident Evil and Call of Duty, near the end of the book. While the focus on movies isn’t necessarily bad, as most Americans think of horror icons like Freddy, Jason, and Michael Myers when they hear the word ‘Horror’ in the context of genre, it leaves out a lot of missed connections and examinations that could’ve been delved into, especially in regard to shows like The Walking Dead, the horror paperback explosion of the 1970s/80s, and even going as far back as H.P. Lovecraft during the early twentieth century. An examination of the racist ramblings of Lovecraft, and a wholesale repudiation of them, would’ve fit in perfectly with this book, and Poole could’ve use them as a lens to also describe Woodrow Wilson’s attitude of the time. Some of the film-to-current-event analyses are also a bit flimsy, but at least Poole provides enough context and argument that, even if I don’t agree, I could see how one would side with him on certain kinds of conclusions drawn.

My one other critique of the book is that of the subtitle: ‘Modern Horror and the Origins of American Empire.’ There are definitely discussions of ‘Modern Horror’ throughout the book, which I enjoyed immensely. Poole starts the book with an analysis of how groundbreaking The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was when first released, and then goes back in time to the early horror films of the 1920s and ‘30s before moving onward from there. His inclusion of horror video games at the end of the book also displays a full-circle grasp of the types of horror media that have tunneled their way into the American conscience over the last hundred years. At the same time, the book itself is not an examination of the ‘origins’ of America’s empire. Yes, Poole touches on explicit origins when America ‘received’ colonies from Spain after the Spanish American War, and how America rose to the top of the world order after WWII, but the book doesn’t focus on that. Instead, it focuses on what happened during the reign of the American empire, and Poole does a damn good job at it, for what it’s worth. So, I don’t know if this was a mistake of the publisher or the author’s, but the subtitle is a little misleading about the overall content of the book. However, I didn’t find that it impacted my enjoyment of the book whatsoever, so let me make that very clear. It was just a different, albeit very pleasant, read accordingly.

Overall, this is a terrific book. Don’t come expecting a lot of highbrow Horror analysis, but understand that there are extended examinations of trends in the horror genre, specifically in the arena of horror cinema. Poole deftly ties most of that analysis with the goings-on of the American imperial empire, and he doesn’t hold back in terms of exposing the worst of the worst of American involvement in both domestic and international affairs in the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. The epilogue provides a perfect ending to the book as well—Poole examines the rise of Trump and MAGA culture, and it is a brief but deep examination of the current events fissuring the country today. The conclusions he draws are not rosy, and, arguably like the best kind of horror stories, the outlooks are bleak.

Highly recommended for people who love twentieth-century American history, American pop culture related to the horror genre, and Howard Zinn acolytes.

Thanks to NetGalley, Counterpoint, and W. Scott Poole for the digital ARC of Dark Carnivals in exchange for an honest review.

[Anatolikon]

What an incredibly frustrating book. Is Poole convincing? Almost always. Does Poole need to have a serious chat with his editor? Almost always. There's a mass of great content in this book, although it rushes towards the end (a chapter on the 1990s without 'The X-Files'? C'mon). The problem is that although there's a slow general progression forward in time, you could take almost any chapter in this book, cut out each paragraph, and pick them up at random and you'll get to the same place. Badly organized and often digresses deeper into the history than it needs to, which comes at expense of deeper discussion of the films. There are plenty of great insights but a lot of it comes off as fairly shallow, which is disappointing because it's clear that he has smart things to say.

[Brittany Ashley · Rating 5 out of 5]

i recommend even for those who don’t consider themselves horror fans - the film references are merely evidence for larger historical narratives and most are old or classic enough to be familiar even if you haven’t seen them

[Andy · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5 stars rounded up. I love the concept of this book and applaud Poole for such a broad reach. It's a reach that often succeeds, but several sections feel scattershot. I wanted further exploration in some sections, more focus in others. I hope to revisit this one at some point.

[Valerie · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really interesting view of the ways in which our horror and sci-fi media mirror, accept, or challenge American imperialism. I really enjoyed this.

[Mel]

Well, I hate to DNF a horror related book but this was just ponderous and boring. I could not get into it. Your mileage may vary.

[R.J. Gilmour]

Poole's book was a pleasant surprise for me. While I expected a light popular history of horror films, Poole's book turned out to be a sophisticated look at how American made horror films reflected and refracted ideas of American imperialism. For anyone interested in either subject, horror films or imperialism it would be an interesting read.

"The American empire abroad thrived in a bloody permaculture fertilized at home. The idea that America is a democracy and not an empire simply doesn't square with the facts. Denial of the right to vote has been a continuing theme in American history. Disenfranchisement of African Americans, Native Americans, Latino, and even the white working class has been a political reality backed by violence." 66

"Leaders of heavy industry and finance could afford to act with near impunity against working-class Americans. The United States had been a debtor nation in 1914, but most of the world found itself indentured to the nation by war's end in 1918." 67

"Isolationism has largely been a myth that really means "the United States will make unilateral decisions rather than forming meaningful alliances." During the era isolationism supposedly shaped American standards for international behaviour, the country launched incursions into Mexico, occupied two Caribbean nations, toppled the government of Nicaragua, and seized major islands in the Pacific and dozens of small islands for what was rapidly becoming the American tradition of building multiple military bases in every region of the globe." 69

"The immense popularity of horror, and the violence horror revels in, restates the horror of empire's reach for screaming audiences and chilled readers, who can't take their eyes off the mayhem on screen and page. It's the nature of living in an empire." 72

"We have horror. It speaks to our language of violence and conquest, sometimes to alarm us and sometimes to tell us that daddy vanquished the monster under the bed....Horror films are one of the few places in nature, the violence, and the failure of American power blinks in the unearthly light of the present, a blighted, ugly fog where you can find yourself wandering in a past they didn't teach you about in school or looking into the abyss of a lost time." 73-74

"Is this true? What if the fantasies Americans accept as false conspiracy theories protect them from the real world?" 79

"The Greenbaum effect is the tendency of Americans to choose outlandish and unsupported conspiracy theories while ignoring the conspiratorial actions of political and economic elites that are backed by evidence. It has shaped almost every decade of American life we'll consider." 80

"The G.I. Bill allowed the U.S. government to build a white middle class quite literally from the ground up with subsidies for education as well as housing." 82

"James Baldwin thought that World War II meant something very different to African Americans than to whites. "A certain hope died," he wrote, both because of the treatment even Black veterans received and how little the world changed for all Black people in 1945." 117

"For the United States, the Bolshevik threat gave legitimacy to the new, expansionist American foreign policy and a highly militarized economy." 120-121.

"The reality was that the United States, a superpower with global reach, defined the Soviet Union, a regional power with limited ambitions, as a mortal enemy. Americans became fearful, uncertain, and anxious in an age of increasing abundance, indeed in a society that had the largest and most prosperous middle class in the history of the world." 122

"Truman's burgeoning national security state thought there was plenty the American people did not need to know. In 1947, the National Security Act created the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Pentagon, putting in place a cooperative and unitary military command structure. At least that's all the American public assumed had happened. And, anyway, the new legislation looked about as interesting as changes to an administrative flowchart. Most took little notice. In fact, the act allowed for a complete reorientation of foreign policy, extremely powerful institutions not answerable to the democratic process, and what amounted to the unconstrained ability to wage secret wars anywhere around the globe. Historian Tom Engelhardt writes that the National Security Council became in effect, the president's "second cabinet, coordinating domestic, foreign, and military policies beyond the oversight of Congress or the public." The new National Security Agency (NSA) quickly became a clearing house of data on American citizens as well as foreign powers. Under the act, the NSA did not even have to reveal its existence to the American public until 1975." 134

"Despite mountains of evidence to the contrary, Americans since World War II imagined themselves as the victims on the world stage." 143

"The country's culture remains beset with an unhealthy neurosis that allows it to ignore overwhelming hegemony it exercises over most of the people on earth. The only country ever to use an atomic device against a civilian population has a fortress mentality, an inexplicable seething rage against the world." 144

"The fantasy of disaster, the fantasy of being both victim and conquerer, played out on thousands of screens almost every night through the first two decades of the Cold War." 148

"Cuban leaders, who fought against Spanish rule for decades, looked uneasily at American occupation forces even as they hoped for the best. They would be deeply disappointed. In 1901, an army appropriations bill in Congress came tainted with poison for Cuban democracy. The Platt Amendment, inserted into the new Cuban constitution at gunpoint, allowed the United States a laundry list of privileges on the enormous island and capped them all by giving the United States the right to intervene in the country's affairs at any time. Cuba's economy belonged to American corporations for sixty years and the people would be ruled by a series of dictators selected by the United States." 190

"Horror in American culture has been more than a catharsis, more than a reflection of anxieties, more than the need to test the limits of our fears. It has played an integral role in what Adorno called "the culture industry." 196

"These are entertainments aimed at the perpetually aggrieved empire. White America imagined itself becoming the victim of an invasion from beyond, but it also listened to stories of how it could become the victim of people of color abroad. Jungle horror legitimized racism at home and offered a rationale for an aggressive foreign policy, the creation of zombie republics." 198

"The United States sought to perfect the small-footprint empire. Why occupy a country and annex territory when covert ops, corporate interest, off-the-books murders, and proxy armies could install American assets as dictators?" 201

"By the 1990s, ignoring restrictions and regulations placed on the stock market during the Great Depression, millions of small investors became miniature Michael Milkens, making tens of thousands while buyouts, the leveraging of credit, austerity measures, and the strip-mining of corporate assets by CEOs shovelled tens of billions into the coffers of a tiny class of Americans. Meanwhile, homelessness exploded. The drop in real wages and the physical destruction of low-income housing accounted for some of those who appeared on sidewalks and under bridges and in private shelters. A peculiar alliance between civil liberty advocates and conservative budget hawks closed institutions and tossed Americans suffering from drug addiction, bipolar disorder, PTSD, and even severe schizophrenia onto the streets...Attitudes toward the homeless and the working poor (often the same population) made Freddy's woeful appearance a portent and a cause for panic. Notably, many of the monsters who stalked the slasher films of the eighties are portrayed not as handsome well-dressed Ted Bundys, but as workers eager to see your insides. Michael Myers, an escaped mental patient, wore the one-piece overalls of a car mechanic as he wielded his butcher knife. Jason Voorhees of the Friday the 13th series, dresses in the sequels like a cross between a dirt farmer and bricklayer." 250

"The costs of empire on the home front are substantial. The CIA's inveterate willingness to partner with drug lords made the "war on drugs" an assault on African American communities. Defence spending cannibalized the American GDP and threw the social safety net on the bonfire." 251

"Anxiety about empire played a larger role in the Satanism scare than historians, modern folklorists, and sociologists have conceded in the past. Like ancient Rome panicking over the frenzied cult of the Bacchae, Americans whispered tales of evil cults, serial killers, and secret covens. Roman angst over the worship of the Greek god Dionysus came, like their fear of Christianity, from a sense that foreign, evil influences could introduce chaos into the machinery of empire. In eighties America, the idea of an omnicompetent Satanist conspiracy tied together a vast number of fears, anxieties, and hatreds related to the changing role of women, the sexual revolution, the Cold War, and the American empire walking with a noticeable limp in the post-Vietnam era." 272-273

"But, as Edmonson points out, there's something truly hateful about the sentimental film (Forrest Gump). What we see in that film is white America blissful in its own ignorance, a kind of blind cruelty in grasping at a vision of the world only possible to citizens of an invincible empire." 296

"If the invasion of Grenada had been a slightly off-kilter Broadway show with decidedly mixed reviews, the Gulf War became a multi-billion-dollar special effects-laden blockbuster, rivalling Jaws and Star Wars in the cineplex of the American mind." 297

"Martin Luther King Jr., said, "a riot is the language of the unheard." 306

"Independence Day represented slack-jawed awe at American military power, at times evoking some of the worst angels of our nature, and joined an established cinematic tradition of portraying Vietnam veterans as troubled, dangerous, and disposable (The Deer Hunter, Taxi Driver, Apocalypse Now, Rambo: First Blood)." 315

"What they all have in common are a poisonous rage, one distinctly masculine in quality." 354

[Karen Bullock · Rating 4 out of 5]

Four stars for this heavy hitting non fiction piece that seems to compare Imperial government power to similar situations in horror movies that John Q Public have enjoyed for years.
Which one is the motivator and which one is the cold hard truth?
Can there be one without the other?
Early 1900’s started with the First World War and within it all the horrors humanity could and could not imagine, from there spiraled a new genre of activity.
This book shows intense heavy research and covers areas of: politics, government, war, slavery, poverty, true crime, psychosis, and genocide, authors and musicians.
Factions showing significant similarities between what is happening in the world and the very topics the general population tend to avoid via the news, but will rush to see the most current horror movie that covers the very same theme, only because people are fooled by the original presentation.
A perfect selection for historians, politicians.

[Michael · Rating 1 out of 5]

Deeply disappointing for any horror fan. Poole’s point is totally lost in rambling and cynical diatribes on American history that have very little to do with the horror genre. By the end, I truly had idea what he was trying to say with this book. A real missed opportunity to meaningfully reflect on how horror can critique society and our anxieties. Such a frustrating read.

[Dorie · Rating 5 out of 5]

#netgalley #DarkCarnivals

Thanks to netgalley, Penguin Random House Books and W. Scott Polle for sending this ARC e-book for review.

A reflection and exploration of how society has tried to hide the darker parts of our own history, and past, and how horror movies have mirrored that history. Americans love horror movies, because so much of our history is rooted in violence, its much easier to stow fear and hate than love. Beginning with the Native American Massacres, Pooles exhaustive and extensive research reaches deep into our nations history to help us understand the correlation between our violent past, and the tropes of horror movies. Poole uses many horror themed books and movies as examples, the narrative is easy to follow and understand.
Engaging and challenging, this book will leave you with alot to think about. Everyone should read this-----horror fans, history buffs will especially enjoy this. It is an excellent historical reference.

[Susan Olesen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Whew. I don’t even know where to start. This is one of those books where to acurately discuss it, you almost have to do a synopsis of each chapter.

I understand what the author is getting at, but his vehemence and fanaticism sometimes make me think he’s an anti-conspiracy conspiracist. He’s so dead-set on being right, and so opinionated, that it makes the reader want to back away, like that weird guy in the bus station who just has to tell you a conspiracy theory and you keep checking your watch desperately to see how many seconds are left before your bus arrives.

I’m not saying the author is wrong, just tone it down a little.

In short, the author tries to show that American Imperialism and Horror Films go hand in hand. Over and over, it’s shown that in horror films, some “evil” – almost always a dark-skinned or Asian person, sometimes an “alien from space,” sometimes a heathen communist, almost always “ignorant” of American ways and religions and democracy, must be overcome by a white male American in order to protect their way of life, or their women, or their vested interests. This falls right in line with American military interventions, from WWI onward, with America villainizing Africans, Caribbean Islanders, Japanese, South Americans, Indonesians, Vietnamese, Chinese, etc, as we fought to take over their lands, establish military bases, or just plain overthrow their governments. Sometimes the cause was “to prevent Communism,” but was still, provable or not, about getting an American foothold in the area to make the wealthy wealthier.

And thus the book has woke me to look at things differently, and as I plug my kid into George of the Jungle to make Brendan Fraser a new generation of fan, I’m struck by everything the book says – Rich White Man in nameless Africa trying to make “first contact” with black men dressed in western garb, by handing out cigars and cigarettes.

Argh. And that’s not even a horror film. It is a reminder of just how ingrained we are with White Supremacy, without even being aware of it. But would George of the Jungle work with a black protagonist? Somehow, I don’t think so.

In general, I do not watch horror films. I dislike cruelty, can’t handle suspense, and with a very overactive imagination, I prefer to sleep at night. As it was, when my husband worked third shift and I was pregnant and home with three kids, I slept with a butcher knife under my pillow. Oh, I’ve seen Poltergeist, and Exorcist, and if you believe in the Exorcist then Constantine falls into the same niche, and a couple of Screams, the original Halloween (where it became a joke when I swear I counted 7 shots from a 6-shooter), and Elm Street 3. You got exposed to old black and white films when you babysat in the late 70’s, because that’s all they showed after 11 pm before the Poltergeist-esque flag and Star Strangled Banana played at 2 am. That’s how I saw the original 1931 Dracula (still the best), some house on a hill with a pool scene that 40 years later makes me terrified of even bathwater, and some movie I’d love to see again about an old woman who kidnapped young girls to bathe in their blood. Those films aren’t scary at all. Not with those scripts. Even Nosferatu feels like you’re watching a 4th-grade school play. I watched some of the 80’s schtick, like Lost Boys, Fright Night, and The Shining. Love at First Bite doesn’t count, but I’m still laughing. I was perhaps 9 or 10 when I saw The Other (NOT the one with Nicole Kidman) (Damn you ABC Friday Night Movies!), which scared the living bejeezis out of me and is still creepy as hell, but not as scary. Over 40 years, that’s not a lot of films, and on the sliding scale of horror, they’re all pretty low (the scariest thing in Poltergeist is the tree). My idea of terrifying is January 6; Saw isn’t going to be on my TV in my lifetime.

In a way, I’m disappointed that the book starts with WWI, since the actual horror of war first slapped America with the Civil War, when the fighting was in your back yard and thousands of bodies were rotting on your corn field. Civil War invented dog tags and embalming. But we didn’t have films back then, and we were fighting ourselves not another country (though still over economic rights), so WWI is appropriate. Wilson, as much as he objected to the Treaty of Versaille which would set the path to WWII, was not a nice guy. He was racist as anything, passed all sorts of totalitarian laws, and did a lot of damage to our country, laws of treason which are still hurting Non-Rich-White-Men today (laws that can be arbitrarily thrown against whistleblowers, but not demonstrably treasonous Rich White Presidents).

The author presents the case that no matter how bad things were politically (in the dire maelstrom of Vietnam, with soldiers told point blank to kill as many gooks as they had bullets for, with entire villages eradicated, “…witnessed a larger truth about America’s fight for capitalism in East Asia…. Ports-a-Go-Go began arriving in South Vietnam in the early 1960’s, prefabricated docks that, as early as late 1965, received nine million cans of soft drinks and beer.”), horror films existed to remind us that whoever we were fighting, no matter how horrible the situation, the White American would win, and the women, country, and world would be safe, pushing American nationalism on countries who really didn’t want the interference.

(to quote, “Despite Wilson’s self-determination… his secretary of state insisted that the language of self-determination did not apply to races, people, or communities whose state of barbarism or ignorance deprive them of the capacity to choose intelligently their political affiliations.”)

i.e, if they don’t agree with us, the prime directive doesn’t apply.

Time and time again we see this, with the US funneling often illegal money into shadow governments to foment unrest and destabilization (Noriega, Iran Contra, Iraq, Iran, Haiti, Grenada, Kuwait, etc, etc), while virile White Men fight terrible odds on the big screen, but always get everything to work out. One case in point mentioned is the movie Predator (yeah, saw that one, too, but never considered it “horror.” If you count that, then you have to count Alien.), where swaggering Schwartzengger, with the name of Dutch, which happened to be the President’s nickname, walks right up to the murderous beast and practically spits in its face.
“Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!” Everything’s going to work out just fine, folks!

There is an awful lot of history presented in the book, some of it more interesting to me than other points. There is an awful lot of history that you haven’t heard before in this book, documentable information that never quite made it on the smooth-as-silk news, such as Reagan’s propping up the brutal Duvalier dictatorship in Haiti so much so that $2 million of American Taxpayer’s money went to fund Duvalier’s wedding. But Hey! Duvalier was anti-Cuba! So it was all good.

Yeah.

And then you’ve got good ol’e Dubya standing there saying, after 9/11, “I’m amazed that people would hate us. I, like most Americans, I just can’t believe it, because I know how good we are.”

This book is a struggle to get through at times, and at times it feels like it’s beating you over the head. Is the correlation that strong that I needed 340 pages on it? I’m not so sure, but it makes a convincing story. And even if you doubt the link between the two, the fact after fact after fact of unrealized American Imperialism will make you stop and think about all politics, good and bad.

I would like to have seen some mention of Star Trek in it, for he does deal with the rise of Science Fiction, the space race, and Reagan’s Star Wars shield. Star Trek, despite a by-product of the Vietnam era, had it’s own imperialism, as well as the Prime Directive of Non-interference, and I would like to have known the author’s thoughts on comparing not only the show with its own record, but with the political actions of the time.

So, yeah, a worthwhile read, but be prepared to learn something you might be able to use in the voting booth.

[Pumpkin+Bear · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’m not sure how one could rewrite the title of this book to clarify that it’s not really about the history of the horror genre and how it reflects the American empire, but actually about the history of the American empire, explaining and illustrating some of the events via action, sci-fi, horror, and thriller movies that speak to the politics of the day.

But they need to, because I kind of feel snookered.

During some chapters, mind you, we get a little bit more of the former, and Poole’s claims in these chapters are liberally peppered with film mentions and analyses. A discussion of Poltergeist (remember their haunted house is built on a graveyard that was also supposedly built on an “ancient Indian graveyard”?) leads to a discussion of the history of European settlers’ long genocide of the Native American peoples, which leads to mentions of other movies that also use this “ancient Indian graveyard” trope. But even in this chapter, in which there are numerous horror movies that hint at that genocide, these mentions of Pet Sematary, The Amityville Horror, and The Shining really are just mentions, along the lines of “Here are some other movies with the same theme.” I wanted an analysis of each of these movies and how each speaks to this theme separately. What is the significance of the usage of an “ancient Indian graveyard” to now bury only pets? Or the significance of the undead from that graveyard becoming murderous against their guardians? Or in Amityville Horror, the significance of the conflation of demons with the ancient graveyard, and the Catholic Church as another force that the horror must stop? Or how about the general opinion that the parents made up the entire original story to get out from under a mortgage they belatedly realized was WAY too big for their finances? Or what is the reasoning for why the Native American genocide had its climax so long ago and we’re only just horroring about it in the 70s and 80s, as well as what it means that these three were all books first?

Dunno, because we don’t get into any extensive semiotic analysis of any cultural artifact within the bounds of this book. The lens through which we’re meant to be studying American imperialism gets forgotten quite a bit in favor of simply laying out and opining on the history of American imperialism.

Throughout his book, Poole implies a dual responsibility that Americans have, in tune with these occasional films that metaphorically present a select atrocity that has been committed by their country. Poole asks, are the movies meant to pacify us Americans, desensitize us to the real horror around us, and we should watch them and be pacified, or are the movies meant to motivate us, to break us out of our shells of ennui, and we should watch them and then revolt?

Poole illustrates this duality via continued reference to Jaws (which he claims pacifies and desensitizes us) and The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (which he claims motivates us to revolt). I think it’s interesting that out of the two, Jaws is a “family” movie that I’ve watched with my kids several times since they were small, once even with an entire themed family dinner that included, among other delicacies, blue Jello studded with Swedish fish and cupcakes with half a Twinkie on top, arranged and frosted to look sort of maybe reminiscent of a shark breaking out of the water if you turned your head and squinted juuuust right. Texas Chainsaw Massacre, on the other hand, I watched exactly once, mostly through my fingers, and do not plan to ever so much as be in the same room with again, much less screen for even my now-adult daughters, much less with themed snack foods. Although I have SO many great ideas--meatloaf and smoked sausage-heavy, but still--about Texas Chainsaw Massacre-themed snack foods!

I thought the strongest parts of Poole’s book were his discussion of wars and conquests that were so overtly American imperialist that even a child could make the connection, and the films that were made by the filmmakers influenced by those wars. A director (George A. Romero) and a special effects artist (Tom Savini) who brought their experiences explicitly into the visuals they created is strong stuff, and one of the few insights that will make me watch some of these films with new eyes. On a similar note, I was stoked when Poole started writing about The Serpent and the Rainbow, a movie that I watched by myself on the floor of my den WAY too many times as an unwholesomely unsupervised child, and which probably now explains a lot about me, ahem, but I didn’t get a ton more from the discussion than I got from watching the movie a dozen times at the age of 13. It’s racist and sexist, and its depictions of Haiti are fucked up. Also, tangent: that’s a good way to describe JD Vance!

One of the more annoying and obvious flaws in the book, at least to me who loves myself a good recommended list, is the absence of an index that lists the movies and where they’re discussed. You would not believe how long it took me to flip through the book--three times!--to find the Poltergeist discussion that I remembered. And if Poole ever got back to that discussion I’ll never know, because I’d have to re-read the book to find it. And God forbid that he at least included a list of all the cultural artifacts discussed in the book so we can watch them for ourselves. It would also let us see the titles like Independence Day and Fight Club that were included in the book even though they’re not horror titles.

On the whole, I did think that Poole’s thesis question of whether we’re meant to be pacified or inspired is significant and relevant, and it’s something that I’ll continue to think about when I watch horror. Instead of this comprehensive-ish history that offers references to films, though, I’d rather have had deeper discussions of fewer, select moments of American imperialism, with more extensive film references and analyses intertwined. Some of these imperialistic moments are clearly more ingrained in our collective consciousness than others, and I think that the movies that speak to those moments are saying much more than Poole was willing to tell us about here.

[T.J. Tranchell · Rating 5 out of 5]

This will be out in time for your next academic year and the amazing papers your students could write using it as a source.

What classes? History, for sure. Economics? Yes to that. Film, particularly American cinema? Check.

Poole runs the gamut of “America” and its history, economy, and popular culture, making Dark Carnivals an accessible work across multiple scholarly disciplines.

The research is solid and enhanced by Poole’s voice. Nothing is ever boring when facilitated through Poole’s unique perspective. He’s well-read and a consummate viewer of horror films, but he also avoids placing himself as an “I know better than you” Ivory Tower snob. He sees the affects of economic disaster but just on “us” but on himself.

We are living on a precipice of disaster and instead of ignoring it, Poole asks us to look into the abyss with him and, hopefully, figure our shit out before it’s too late.

[Erika · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book had a fascinating and compelling premise, but really could have used some more editing.

[William Dury · Rating 3 out of 5]

Unhinged and wildly entertaining.

[Dan · Rating 4 out of 5]

My thanks to both NetGalley and the publisher Catapult, Counterpoint Press, and Soft Skull Press, for an advanced copy of this book on the American Experience and and the genre of horror.

The arts are a reflection of society and in many ways genre literature and films are its closest mirror. The fears, the doubts even the crimes the suddenly seem to be accepted are quick fodder for the B- movies that were needed to fill a demand and since money is the ultimate goal why not create art that reflects what was in the newspapers or media of the day. America has a rich history of treating anyone other than white horribly, along with women, the disadvantaged and the foreign just as bad. In Dark Carnivals; Modern Horror and the Origins of American Empire, author, educator and horror historian. W. Scott Poole compares the truth of American history, with the fiction that we watch in the cinemas, how one effects the other.

The book begins with a primer on American history and how much of history has been ignored, or forgotten. The destruction of the indigenous people, slavery, our history of violence, and complete and other resistance to change are reflected in the arts, in propaganda like ways, or films that are banned because of the truth they tell. Some of the artists worked within the system like Rod Sterling who could make a show about aliens, be something much more, or Tobe Hopper who saw the power in a chainsaw, or a housing development for upward growth, but was really just a cursed piece of soil. Atomic ants, sharks that bear grudges, killers who never stop hunting, even the purge movies are mentioned and discussed.

Dark Carnivals is a very solidly researched book, which in the today where it is obvious certain political parties don't want the truth to be told about America's origins is a very good thing. Both the truth of America's path and the cinematic history are interesting, and full of surprising facts. Also Poole does a very good job of lining specific idea in both the past, or even the current political clime with a fictional counterpoint. Poole is very good at not going to deep into the weeds or losing his readers. The book reads well, and the narrative is very clear and offers a lot to think about.

A book for both people interested in the American experience, and the history of genre films, and why society has thought about them. The best is that there are a lot of good films mentioned, along with books, which will give people much to try and find in second hand stores or streaming. Along with his other book Wasteland which was a look at British and modern horror, these books are a fascinating examination of both the twentieth century and the dark films that were influenced by it.

[Holly · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was an interesting choice of reading for me. One on hand, it's history and I'm totally into that. On the other hand, I have little to no interest in horror. I've never seen the common ones everyone talks about (Scream, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Exorcist, etc.). But I was drawn in by the idea of the psychology: that these movies are a reflection of our greatest fears as a nation at specific times in history.

And while I didn't always understand every reference to films, Poole does a pretty good job of describing the plot points he wants to draw comparisons to. And by God, does he make his points. As a millennial, I feel like in history class we never made it past World War II or, at most, Kennedy's assassination in school. We certainly never got to Vietnam or Reagan or Desert Storm. I've learned about most of those on my own, through exploring videos, podcasts, and books that happen to have these as topics. Even though I've searched out a lot of this history on my own, this book still told me about a ton of history I'd never heard of. The multiple invasions of Haiti? The absolute devastation of bombing Japan prior to the atomic bombs? The absolute atrocities committed in Vietnam--that ultimately resulted in little to no punishment? The sheer number of countries we're practically puppeting to further our own interests? It was absolutely mortifying. And that's not even mentioning the history I did know about, like Iran-Contra and the banana republics of Central America.

The thesis is that whatever our current fear was, whether based on fears of atomic bombs or invasions from other countries or economic woes, horror found a way to reflect that back to us in a different light. For example, just to name one, our fear of Soviet technology spying on us led to the explosion of alien films and conspiracy theories. Which does make some sense, considering we were sending technology over the USSR to spy on them. Why wouldn't they return the favor? It was just easier to talk about aliens than to confront the idea that our government may have been doing something similar to someone else.

This book, if you couldn't tell, gave me so much to think about. I haven't been so fired up and irate about US history in a long time. (Irate at the atrocities we've done that we've never been taught about, I mean.) This has really changed the way I think about a lot of things which, for a book like this, I think it's a terrific win. It's so thought-provoking.

It's a bit of a dense read, but it's so worth it.

[Jeffrey Powanda · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a fun and insightful book about horror, history, and pop culture! This cultural history of American imperialism and horror reads like an unofficial sequel to Poole's brilliant Wasteland, which I enjoyed at the end of 2023. Here Poole shows the impact of U.S. military history and unrestrained capitalism on popular culture—fiction, TV, movies, comics, and computer games—particularly the horror, science fiction, and crime genres. Poole argues that large truths can be found in the works of horror that were inspired by U.S. military aggression and domestic injustice. He writes, "It's not paradoxical that an empire built on very real horror consumes horror as part of its regular entertainment."

My favorite parts of the book:
- Poole's explanation of the Greenbaum Effect, the tendency of Americans to support outlandish conspiracy theories while ignoring actual conspiratorial actions of political and economic elites.
- A brilliant chapter on The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Jaws, and Poltergeist, contrasting directors Tobe Hooper and Stephen Spielberg.
- Profiles of Ray Bradbury (The Martian Chronicles and Something Wicked This Way Comes), Bela Lugosi (Dracula), Rod Serling (The Twilight Zone), Tom Savini (Night of the Living Dead and Friday the 13th), Joe Haldeman (The Forever War).
- A chapter on The Midnight Monster Show, an assortment of exotic, lurid road shows featuring live performers Dr. Silkini, Dr. Morris, Dr. Chan Loo, and Frank Chan, encapsulating the anti-Asian racism of the period.
- The assortment of Caribbean voodoo cult movies, many set in Haiti, that attempt to justify American imperialism.
- Takedowns of right-wing, propagandist, libertarian SF writers Robert A. Heinlein, John W. Campbell, and Jerry Pournelle.

The book is breezy and expansive, but hardly comprehensive. I wanted more, a lot more. That's not criticism but praise. I fervently support Poole's leftwing views of U.S. political and military history, but of course politically conservative readers will take exception; this book isn't for them, just as it isn't for fascists.

I'll definitely check out anything Poole publishes in the future. He's the best cultural historian of modern horror at work today.

[J Earl · Rating 5 out of 5]

Dark Carnivals by W Scott Poole is a wonderful look at horror films in relation to United States empire making.

Picking up from his previous book, Wasteland, Poole offers a historical look at American empire making and the ways horror films have responded to it. He suggests that horror offers two ways of looking at what were often US atrocities (I'm simplifying this a lot): one is to show the threat as so evil that we are ultimately innocent; or that there is no way, even for future generations, to avoid guilt for wrongdoings. Through a nuanced and narrowly focused account of history coupled with the films from those periods, Poole makes a very good argument.

In some film courses I remember talking about certain horror films and what they say about the politics of their time, but most of that discussion tended to focus on science fiction and Cold War anxiety and fear of nuclear annihilation. This book offers a lot more to consider in making horror films and empire making as key topics for future discussion.

The obvious readers who will enjoy this are those already into horror films and those who enjoy looking at how film can reflect societal concerns. I would also recommend this to readers who are mostly into history, particularly US history, but not necessarily into the popular culture connections. This book is as much a history lesson as a book of film history, so history readers will find a lot to appreciate.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

[Steve Wiggins · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent book. For those who want to understand America’s monsters, the name W. Scott Poole is a familiar one. His latest book takes and uncomfortable look at the American empire through the lens of horror. Beginning primarily with the presidency of Harry S. Truman, Poole traces how America’s expanding, and uncompromising influence is reflected in both horror movies and images of ourselves. He uses Jaws and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre as two different ways of understanding the nation, and perhaps two different ways of wanting the country to be.

My blog post on the book (Sects and Violence in the Ancient World) points out that there is some very uncomfortable reading here. The atrocities that the United States has perpetrated in an effort to enrich and empower itself is truly damning. Historians, such as Poole, are uniquely placed to draw such things out. The connections he makes are insightful and thought-provoking.

The book doesn’t analyze horror movies as much as it points out American efforts to build a superpower that forces the rest of the world to agree to its economic system. All presidents do this, but the efforts of Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump especially stand out as egregious examples of how crass nationalism cavalierly leads to the ruin of countless numbers of citizens. This is a disturbing and important book, demonstrating that horror reveals much more than most critics give it credit for.

[Mike · Rating 1 out of 5]

Mr. Poole attempted to link the idea of American empire so we'll described in "How to Hide and Empire" and "An Indigenous People's History of the United States" and how the effects of this empire are expressed in horror. He failed.

He spends most of his time badly rehashing history to make the US the center of all evil to the point that he sounds like he's trying to exonerate or blame the crimes of other notorious regimes on the US. Most of the time this is done in the near hysterical tone of a teenage vegetarian lecturing that meat is murder.

The mentions of horror are tangential at best and superficial in treatment. He focuses on a limited number of films and beats the snot out of them using the same two metaphors ad nauseam.

Stylistically I found the book to be a mess. Mr. Poole vacillates between an intellectual tone and the voice of someone trying to write a shocking and a edgy pop culture magazine article. So you end up with an arrogant vocabulary builder packed with subtext that most of the US is too stupid and uncool to understand his thesis.

And as he reaches for language to shock and astound and perhaps simplify for us poor moron s he makes several factual errors. Napalm is not a bioweapon. A movie released in 1984 can't be influenced by events in 1987. The plural of American is Americans.

So the takeaway of this review is I didn't enjoy it and recommend you skip it.

[Chris DiLeo · Rating 5 out of 5]

Originally, I was going to give this 4/5 stars, BUT it deserves 5/5 because it kept me reading even as I took umbrage with some of its points.

Poole's basic conceit is as follows:

American horror movies come in two types epitomized by the following two films—JAWS and THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE.

JAWS gives us the outside evil that is defeated by good old American know-how and might.

CHAINSAW offers an evil created by American society's bloodlust and cruelty that then turns against it.

At times, Poole's book reads as a chastisement of anyone who would prefer JAWS (me), implying we are believers in the American fantasy of rah-rah, patriotic, save-the-day nonsense, and only those who would prefer CHAIN SAW's evisceration of America's grisly social and political underbelly truly understand what horror can and should do.

That said, I kept reading because--dammit--Poole is a good writer, has researched this topic well, and his argument is strong and worthy of further discussion.

Although the book's heavily liberal slant can be a bit much and the emphasis on history at times overtakes the examination of horror films, the book is compelling and compulsively readable. The diction tends toward the grandiloquent, which I also enjoyed, yet it is the insights propounded that make this a keeper.

I will revisit.

That makes it a 5/5.

[Ryan Laferney · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dark Carnivals is a fascinating interdisciplinary work that is a study of the horror of the American Empire and how this real world horror is reflected through the lens of the horror genre. It's a well written book, one that is quite sobering. Poole uses film history, media theory, philosophy, and history to deliver a condemnation of capitalism and American Empire. Poole argues that our entertainment - from The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Jaws, and The Twilight Zone to recent films like The Purge - reflect our political and cultural state of being. He provides persuasive commentary on the political inflections and emotional appeal of both well-known and obscure horror films. He is particularly insightful in probing such cultural touchstones as The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, Jaws, and The Twilight Zone. You can tell he is a fan of the genre, an astute student of American history, and a critic of Empire.
I have to say, I tend to agree with Poole's views on the pitfalls of America and how our evils are often exposed and regurgitated through film.
I found Dark Carnivals to be a fascinating work, echoing things I have often thought about in regards to Horror and the American Empire.
If you want to learn more about the evolution of horror/sci-fi horror genre and American politics post WWII - this is the book for you.

[Ellis Hastings · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5/3 stars. This book sounded like it was curated specifically for me. I am a history major with a focus in 19th-century Europe and the U.S. during the Cold War. I am also an avid fan of horror (mainly literary, cosmic, and gothic). So, a book that views the sins of the U.S. throughout history and how it impacted the shaping of horror fiction and cinema sounded like the coolest non-fiction book ever. However, while pretty interesting, the argument felt weak and there was very little of how the times shaped the genre. I feel like the topic could have been a 30-50 page essay instead of a ~325 page book. Also, on the history side of it: while I love reading history (duh, I'm a history major), writing a satisfying single book encompassing the ENTIRETY of U.S. History is impossible. This felt like it was just an extremely, middle school-level skim-through of U.S. History. Seriously. The county I teach in has textbooks for tweens that have more comprehensive details than this book.

I know this review sounds harsh, but I gave it 2.5 and rounded it up to 3 stars because I found parts of the book interesting. I also like Poole's writing style and voice, and I like how he writes enough to read another one of his books. 2-star and (gasp, single-star) books are books whose authors I care not read anything else from. That's not the case with Poole.