Book Review: Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond.

Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond. Debra Kaplan Low, Book Street Press, September 30, 2021, Paperback and eBook, 155 pages.

Review by Marcie Hill.

It was a joy to read Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond by Debra Kaplan Low. In addition to sharing stories about her life under the viaduct, Debra gives readers history lessons about Chicago, Jewish traditions, race in Chicago, and more. Her sense of humor and creative wordplay add an extra level of engagement to this captivating read. As I read this book, I felt like I knew Debra personally.

Debra describes Jeffrey Manor as a “paradise within the confines of a neighborhood.” It was refreshing to read firsthand accounts about the manor’s people, places, and activities that shaped Debra’s life. The residents were close because of their shared housing, experiences, and relationships. They didn’t have a lot of money, but they had each other. They knew intimate details about each other, supported each other, and created bonds that remain strong today. The viaduct played a major role in creating this close-knit community.

To the average person, viaducts are structures that support railroads. In the manor, the viaduct was the great divider. It divided the community into north and south regions, separating people based on class and income. The north side residents were “more well-educated, wealthier, professional white folks” that lived in single-family homes. Residents in the south manor were blue and white-collar workers that lived in “almost identical and very affordable duplex and row houses.” This viaduct is a physical reflection of the invisible barrier that separates Chicago’s north and south sides today. The north side has mostly white residents with higher incomes, better schools, high-value housing options, retailers and grocery stores within walking distance, and financial support from political officials. Most of the south side is occupied by middle class, working-class and low-income people of diverse races, lower home values, poorer schools, food, and pharmacy deserts, and has received little financial support from elected officials.

I learned about Jewish values, traditions, and ceremonies. Debra’s description of some of their events and her journey to finding her faith was hilarious. She was open about her father’s anger and emotional issues, her mother’s tolerance of his behavior, and how the family north of the viaduct treated her family. It was painful to read about the physical and emotional health challenges Manorites experienced because of exposure to deadly toxins near their homes. Some of them died. Despite this, the words used to describe the life after college for Boomers, as well as the irony of “Kosher Jews eating pork,” and the fact that her mother was the first Jewish member of the St. Stephens Episcopal Women’s Circle, brought smiles and laughter.

The book included several things about race in Chicago and beyond based on personal experiences, not just research. I didn’t know that people hung signs that read “No Jews Allowed.” I didn’t know that German Jews were treated differently than European Jews. Bowen High School had a diverse student population. I thought only white people could live and attend school in that area before the 1970s. I knew about the “white flight” from big cities, but I didn’t know when it happened. Debra noted that it began in the late 1960s and ended in the early 1970s. “The manor was entirely white until 1967,” but most residents had moved by 1972. I learned the origin of slumlords, the name given to landlords who charged high rents for crappy housing and treated their tenants poorly.

As a native South Sider, I related to Debra’s south side pride and neighborhood loyalty. Her Manor pride and loyalty remain today, even though she lives in Arizona. Readers will learn about Debra personally and as an author when they read Under the Viaduct: Memories from the Manor and Beyond.

Book Review: The Prince of Wheelwrights: George Ferris and his Great Wheel

The Prince of Wheelwrights: George Ferris and his Great Wheel. Jack Klasey, Looking Back Publications, April 21, 2021, Electronic and Print, 395 pages.

Review by T.L. Needham.

The Prince of Wheelwrights: George Ferris and his Great Wheel by Jack Klasey, is as magnificent an event in storytelling as the subject itself. Yet, one must ponder, what subject? Am I referring to the fantastic and brilliant creation, the Ferris Wheel? Or, the superb genius who created this glorious and magnificent monstrosity, as some would call it, George Washington Gale Ferris, Jr.?

In this book, the story is brilliantly told by author Jack Klasey. He begins not with the great wheel but another magnificent engineering achievement in the late 19th century: in 1889, Gustave Eiffel’s 984-foot iron tower, conceived and erected in 1889 as a feature of the Paris Universal Exposition. This impressive engineering feat was the talk of the world, especially the engineering world, because it was unique, beautiful, and unprecedented.

Yet, one man was more than fascinated; George Ferris was inspired. He imagined an idea even grander than the great tower in Paris: a great wheel. And, not just a wheel on the horizontal, ala the Merry-Go-Round, but a vertical wheel that rose into the sky to a magnificent, thrilling height just as the great tower. But, unlike the Eiffel Tower, Ferris imagined a wheel that moved!

This brilliant feat of engineering grabs the reader’s attention early in this story. The author sets the stage for a tale of achievement that must overcome all the obstacles and challenges in the way. Author Klasey weaves a fascinating story of not just Ferris the engineer, but Ferris the man, who struggles against impossible odds and challenges to achieve his grand vision. To say this historical account is a page-turner would not be an exaggeration. 

As I read this story, I found my admiration for the author’s brilliance eclipse the protagonists. Jack Klasey is an author with a wealth of experience and credentials in a multi-decade career in the writing profession, including newspaper reporting, technical writing, media author/producer and newspaper columnist, as well as technical books. 

The Prince of Wheelwrights is an outstanding achievement that reads like a thrilling novel yet fascinates the reader in that this is, in fact, history and not fiction. This story reflects the great depth of research, skill, and commitment to telling a story that will inspire and entertain, just as its wonderful subject—THE FERRIS WHEEL.

Book Review: The Sweetness of Venus: A History of the Clitoris

The Sweetness of Venus: A History of the Clitoris. Sarah Chadwick, Wild Pansy Press, February 14 2021, Paperback and E-Book, 253 pages.

Review by Julie S. Halpern.

Women’s health, particularly gynecology and female sexuality, has been the domain of male doctors and scientists throughout history. From ancient physicians and scholars such as Galen (whose theories were regarded as the gold standard for over a thousand years!) to Freud, women’s bodies have been diminished, feared, and pathologized.

The clitoris may be the least understood and most maligned organ in the human body. Missing or poorly represented in most paintings, sculptures, and medical illustrations of women throughout the centuries, Sarah Chadwick asserts that the clitoris deserves respect and understanding. It needs to be seen as its unique and very important self rather than an inferior, inverted, or lesser version of the male penis.

Ms. Chadwick, a British-born educator now living in Chicago, was frustrated with the lack of realistic sex education material for her young daughter. In response, Chadwick has written an extensively researched book, balancing the false narratives of entrenched male attitudes with lighthearted humor. Refreshingly free of feminist buzzwords and political posturing, Ms. Chadwick’s warmth and light touch reveal her dedication to women’s freedom and enjoyment of their bodies. Drawing on primary medical sources and illustrations (ranging from the ridiculously laughable to the disturbingly graphic), Chadwick details various tortuous remedies and cures for real or imagined maladies ranging from hydrotherapy to actual genital mutilation.

Throughout the years, literature of all types offers cautionary tales of the “trouble” a sexually aroused woman can create. Emma Bovary, Anna Karenina, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Hester Prynne, and countless other heroines of the Romantic and Victorian eras exemplify the societal fears of the times. Soon to follow were scientific “discoveries” fabricated by male doctors, claiming that female sexual need or pleasure was in fact a serious mental disease, referred to as “hysteria,” a term still frequently used to describe a woman suffering from stress or trauma.

In the most delightfully scathing portion of the book, Ms. Chadwick channels and “interviews” several iconic and notorious female authors by inviting them to tea. Aphra Behn, Mary Wollstonecraft, George Eliot, George Sand, and even Jane Austen gleefully weigh in with their views of unbridled sexual enjoyment, set against the hypocrisy, paranoia, and often total cluelessness of their eras.

In the mid-twentieth century, researchers such as Alfred Kinsey, William Masters, Virginia Johnson, and Shere Hite and creators such as Georgia O’Keeffe and the Guerrilla Girls finally crack through centuries of ignorance and misunderstanding. The female body, particularly the clitoris, has at last come into her own. But even today, myths and fear, sometimes masquerading as religious doctrine, flourish, with the intent to subdue and frighten women. From masturbation to pornography, the still male-dominated scientific community is begrudgingly coming to accept the necessity for women to understand their bodies and embrace their sexuality.

Sarah Chadwick, an articulate and compassionate spokeswoman for a new generation of women, is to be commended for her exceptional research, kindness, and candor. May The Sweetness of Venus mark the beginning of a healthy (and hysteria-free) era for women.