In the age-old debate about how best to make the past “come alive,” history books—at least the dreary ones everyone seems to have read in the tenth grade—are often seen as part of the problem. If you want to engage the young people, we often hear, you’ll want to hire some reënactors (with costumes!) or construct elaborate dioramas (that move!) rather than assigning chapter after stupefying chapter from a dusty textbook.
Though I appreciate these noble efforts by well-meaning schoolteachers and museum docents, I’ve always bristled at the dismissal of books as inherently boring. Is there actually anyone—young or old—who genuinely likes dioramas? I’d rather read the book, thank you; reëenactors make me nervous. It’s true that not all history books are riveting (I have drooled into my fair share), but there is no reason that they shouldn’t be. There’s plenty of drama in the past, of course, and good storytelling is good storytelling, regardless of whether the stories are real or imagined.
This belief is, more or less, the premise of Pulp History, a new series of real-life swashbuckling adventure stories from Simon & Schuster. Salon founder David Talbot and his sister, our own Margaret Talbot, envisioned the books as genre-busting graphic novel-textbook hybrids that fully embrace the “lush possibilities of the printed page.” David writes:
As writers, we wanted the words to play a more important role than they do in graphic novels. But by adding a visual dimension to our true stories—and portraying history in all its terrible and beautiful glory—we thought we could make the past shine through the shadows for a new generation of readers.
There are two books so far: Devil Dog: The Amazing True Story of the Man Who Saved America, written by David Talbot and illustrated by Spain Rodriguez; and Shadow Knights: The Secret War Against Hitler, written by Gary Kamiya and illustrated by Jeffrey Smith. In “Devil Dog,” we follow Smedley Butler, the U. S. marine who fought in the Philippines, China, Central America, and Europe before returning home to clean up corruption in Philadelphia and thwart a plot against Franklin Delano Roosevelt’s life; and in “Shadow Knights,” the heroes are Winston Churchill’s Special Operations Executives, who secretly fought—using whatever means necessary—to stop Hitler’s conquest of Europe. These aren’t comic books, exactly—the stories are told in lively running prose, rather than in pictures—but they are definitely easy on the eyes. Black-and-white photographs alternate with colorful illustrations, and history buffs will appreciate the inclusion of real documents like memos, newspaper clippings, magazine covers, and propaganda posters. (“French Resistance Helps Throttle the Boche”; “Every woman not doing vital work is needed now!”)
The idea here, of course, is that the stories of history’s real heroes are as wild as anything a fiction writer—pulp or otherwise—could dream up. In “Shadow Knights,” there are references to “Lord of the Rings,” Sherlock Holmes, and James Bond, and the comparisons seem warranted: these stories also feature epic struggles, clever detective work, and plenty of gory violence. In one scene, an S.O.E. agent struggles to gouge out a Gestapo officer’s eye; in another, a Norwegian resistance fighter must shoot and eat a reindeer to avoid freezing to death in the wilderness:
Poulsson began to laugh wildly. He pulled out his tin cup, thrust it under the blood spurting out from the reindeer’s wounds and drank it before it froze. The warm blood instantly sent strength coursing through his body. Then he skinned and cut up the reindeer, chewing raw fat and drinking marrow from the legs to keep himself going as he worked. Carrying a pack of meet and a bucket of frozen blood, he staggered back to the hut. When he arrived, exhausted and covered in blood, his three comrades shouted with joy.
Try dozing off while reading that! Parts of these books seem targeted at a very particular audience—I’m picturing adolescent boys—but there are also some mature, provocative ideas squeezed in among the action scenes. “Devil Dog” deals with the ugly history of American imperialism and the social consequences of political corruption, and “Shadow Knights” reads as an extended meditation on when and in what circumstances violence is justified. Parents of young children should note that the books don’t gloss over unhappy endings: one of the heroes of “Shadow Knights,” for example, is executed at Dachau.
I said earlier that I wasn’t the kind of kid who ever thought books were boring, anyway, but there are a few scenes—particularly in “Devil Dog”—that make me wish these particular books had been around back when I was first discovering historical fiction. Consider this racy passage, about the romantic adventures of Dorothy May Rodgers, Philadelphia’s “Bobbed-Hair Bandit”:
Paul and Dorothy stayed in bed until 1 p.m. the next afternoon. They were frantic for each other; they wore each other out. Afterward, they showered and put on their clothes. Paul was a sharp looker too, 5-foot-10, slim build, dark hair, deep brown eyes. He wore a light suit, a soft brown hat and a tweed overcoat. It was like they were living a dream and they didn’t want it to end. Paul said there was a movie playing around the corner that he wanted to see, so they went. They were as young and beautiful as movie stars. But they were broke.
Ah, to have read this when I was twelve! (“It’s history, mom!”) There’s plenty to mull over here, for kids, adults, and, perhaps especially, for those in-between.
This week marked the 
David Cameron, Britain’s prime minister, has revealed that his favourite childhood book was 
