The Radium Girls by Kate Moore
Greetings Bookworms,
I am super stoked to discuss today’s book! *I received a complimentary copy of The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women
A little bit of background: my husband is from a small town in Illinois. It’s not close enough to Chicago to be considered a suburb, but not really part of what’s considered “Central Illinois” either. It’s known to locals as the Illinois Valley, but that doesn’t mean a whole lot to people not from the area. I grew up in a Chicago suburb that had zero history. I mean, the “historical district” is a set of houses built in the 1960s. There are nearby suburbs with more history, but my town had been farmland for a very long time and it is seriously lacking in old time charm. Perhaps that’s why I’ve always been so drawn to places with old brick downtown sections and interesting historical tidbits. My husband’s corner of Illinois is chock full of these types of stories, which I’ve been gobbling up since we started dating 14 years ago.
One of the stories he told me took place in the town right next door to his in Ottawa, Illinois. We were driving past the old Westclox factory one day (which is technically in Peru, another nearby town, but I digress) and he told me that back in the day, the dials of the watches made for Westclox were painted with radioactive paint and that it made a lot of employees sick. (To be fair to Westclox, these were third party dial painting operations, though, I’d be surprised if they didn’t have some problems with the radiation too, because it’s friggin’ RADIATION.) The mysterious sickness was due in large part to the fact that the workers were instructed to put the paintbrushes in their mouths. I was SURE my husband had gotten part of the story wrong, because seriously. I don’t put paint in my mouth, let alone radioactive paint. I thought it had to be an urban legend.
It. Was. Not. An. Urban. Legend. The Radium Girls by Kate Moore is a fascinating account of what went on in these radium dial factories, both in New Jersey and small town Illinois. Women in the 1910s-1930s were employed in factories painting radium infused glow-in-the-dark material on watch dials and other clock faces. Toward the beginning of this time period, radium, in small amounts, was considered to be safe, and possibly even healthy. Workers were instructed to put those radioactive paint brushes into their mouths in order to get a precise point for the fine detail work. Yes. This is a real thing that happened. I’m still trying to process it.
Of course, a few years into this practice, it became clear that all was not safe and healthy where radium ingestion is concerned. The girls (and I say “girls” because some were as young as 14 and they usually left the company by their early 20s) began coming down with mysterious tooth and jaw ailments, muscle pains, and scores of other symptoms. And, as corporations are wont to do when they’re in jeopardy of losing a crap load of money, they tried to blame anything else (STDs, bad luck, other diseases) for the girls’ ailments rather than take responsibility.
The book covers the processes used in the factories, some rather gruesome details about the effects the women with radium poisoning suffered, and the legal battles that followed in order to get the women some compensation for having bits of jawbone fall out all over the place. It all just hit SO close to home considering that I’ve spent a decent amount of time in Ottawa. I’ve driven past Saint Columba, the church many of the girls attended, oodles of times. In later years, Argonne National Laboratory began doing followup studies on the remains of the women who perished and survivors of Radium Dial. The cancer rate for survivors was something like 80%, and they were cancers so rare that they couldn’t have been caused by anything but the radium poisoning. The remains of early victims have been studied as well and are, to this day, highly radioactive. It’s estimated they will be for another 1500-3000 years.
For the love, you guys, READ THIS BOOK. It was amazing and informative and it never dragged or got too bogged down in the science the way some non-fiction does. The human stories abound. It’ll break your heart. You’ll learn things. It’s amazing. The Radium Girls by Kate Moore. All the stars.
Talk to me, Bookworms! Do your hometowns have any tragic and or fascinating stories?
*If you make a purchase through a link on this site, I will receive a small commission.*
, 
, and 
. The premise of these novels is that humanity has finally gone and done it and destroyed the Earth and themselves in the process. Big giant war, probably nuclear, wipes out all the things, and is horrible. Lilith Iyapo along with the other human survivors plucked from the wreckage of our now uninhabitable planet have been rescued by a mysterious alien race called the Oankali. The Oankali are motivated by two things. First, they feel compelled to heal any suffering they encounter. Second, they have a desperate need to merge with other species on a genetic level. While Lilith and the other survivors are given another chance at life, it’s nothing like the life they used to know.
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by Nell Stevens. My friend and book-enabler Heather (aka 
In this book, the author runs away to Falklands (on a school supported fellowship) in order to deprive herself of distractions so she can write her novel. She ends up finding that you can’t force the writing of a novel, even in utter isolation. Also she was bad about packing her food which made me as a reader anxious and hungry. Because her calorie count. So bleak. That was the bleakest bit, really, the lack of food. I wish I could blame this on the fact that I read this while pregnant, but no. I don’t like being hungry under any circumstances. There was a lot of useful self discovery and a bit of indulgent navel gazing (but really, who wouldn’t do that when isolated in such a manner?) I just wish there hadn’t been a penguin on the cover. While the author did see penguins on her frequent walks, they didn’t play a particularly integral role in the story. I mean, the author couldn’t have anticipated the level of penguin enthusiast who would be attracted to her book, but I was a bit disappointed when the penguin related capers and friendships I imagined never materialized.
by Carrie Fisher- Oh Carrie, my darling. You are so missed. And not just by your impossibly cute dog. I listened to the audio version of this, narrated by Carrie Fisher. It was an excellent choice. And hearing passages read out of 19-year-old Carrie’s diary by her actual real-life daughter? So good. I’m so glad that in addition to her film work, Carrie left behind such delightful, witty, heartfelt commentary in her written works. Although, on a side note, this is the book in wish Fisher details her affair with Harrison Ford. Which is fine except that I’ve never found Harrison Ford particularly attractive because he reminds me of a neighbor/family friend from childhood with whom I always had a very sibling-y relationship. This book definitely didn’t change that perspective.
by Erika Johansen– This was the final installment of the trilogy which I reviewed 
by Diane Ackerman– I read this for my IRL book club. It takes place during WWII in Warsaw, Poland, and if you know even the tiniest bit about the Holocaust, you’ll know that Poland was not a particularly pleasant place to be. It focused on a Polish family who had once run the zoo (most of the zoo animals were lost to combat and/or theft by the Nazis) who did what they could during the war to keep Jewish folks safe. It was the WWII equivalent of being a stop on the Underground Railroad. It was a very interesting true story, but going into the book, I was totally expecting a novel and it turned out to be non-fiction. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I was expecting more emotion and fewer facts about insect collections. I also kind of wish I could un-learn some of the insights into the Nazi mindset that this book taught me. Knowing it in an abstract way is one thing, but having the details spelled out in pseudo-scientific language? Troubling, to say the least. If you’re Jewish and have a hard time reading about this period in history? Skip it.
– Who doesn’t love a story about a quirky kid? In this novel, a young woman working in publishing is sent to play nanny to a reclusive writer’s eccentric son. Frank is a dapper little gent, dressing more like Charlie Chaplin than your average 9 year old. What starts off seeming like it might be a simple caper in the antics of an unusually artsy kid takes some unexpectedly emotional twists and turns. Overall, a charming story.
by Louise Erdrich– Get your tissues ready for rage-tears. An adolescent boy’s mother is sexually assaulted. Dealing with the emotional trauma is tough enough on the family, but since the assault took place on Native American tribal lands, the seeking of justice becomes extremely complicated. RAGE TEARS. Like, if you thought that all the crap perpetrated on Native Americans ended back in the day, you’d be really, really wrong. Intense, excellent read, but if sexual assault is a particularly difficult issue for you, you might want to skip this one.
. *I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley. That said, a free book does not buy my integrity and I’ll give you my honest opinion. I have no manners. Every once in a while, that’s a useful trait.*
Who doesn’t love a super nerdy teen not quite romance featuring troubled youth in the 80s? I mean, there’s computer programming involved, yo! (I don’t necessarily find computer programming sexy, but shared nerdy interests as a possible romantic foundation is totally my jam.)
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by Julie Murphy!
Willowdean Dixon lives in a tiny town in Texas where the biggest event of the year is a beauty pageant for teenage girls. Will (or “Dumplin'” if you’re her former beauty queen mother) has always been comfortable in her own skin, but she has also always known that her body type does not fit society’s standards of beauty. It’s not until she begins dating a super handsome jock that she begins to feel truly insecure about her size. But Will won’t go down so easily. Not with her best friend by her side, a dash of moxie, and an abiding love of Dolly Parton.
. My teenage self was a study in contradictions, because while I was busy wearing really huge pants and listening to the angstiest grunge the late 90s had to offer, I was also still very involved in dance classes and, to a lesser extent, high school theater. Which is why, for reasons twisty and confusing, I decided to compete in said “scholarship program.” This book brought SO MUCH of that back. So much. Whew. (In case you’re wondering, I did not win that pageant, I came in first runner up, which legitimately did net me enough scholarship money to pay for my first semester’s books in college. Also, the thought of my talent routine makes me cringe to this very day. It involved pig tails and tap shoes and Bjork. Because of course it did.)
by Richard Bachman (AKA Stephen King): Some perverse part of my brain thought it would be a good idea to read dystopian fiction by Stephen King during the middle of a terrifying season of political upheaval. Yeah. Definitely NOT comforting. In an alternate timeline USA, an annual competition takes place wherein 100 teenage boys walk until there is only one left standing. The winner gets a prize of anything he wants for the rest of his life. Which is a pretty sweet prize. Until you realize that the penalty for losing is death. That’s revealed pretty early on so I don’t feel like it’s too spoilery to tell you that. It’s never revealed WHY “The Long Walk” is a thing, but there’s a scary military leader in charge of it. The description of the walk is harrowing in itself, but the not knowing how the event originated and why is what’s still creeping me out.
by Winston Graham: One of the gals in my book club was raving about how great the 
TV series is, so I thought I’d pick up the book on which it was based. I have not watched the TV series, which I think was to my own detriment. Maybe I would have been more engaged if I’d been able to picture a more ridiculously handsome actor while reading about Ross’s antics, but mostly he just annoyed me. Normally historical fiction is totally my jam but I was not feeling this at all. So much nope.
by Jacqueline Woodson: This book was a stunning mix of poetry and prose that chronicles the author’s life story. Raised between South Carolina and New York, the author explores how growing up in each location influenced the person she would become. From the remnants of the Jim Crow South to the vibrant Civil Rights movement in the big city, Woodson’s life is anything but dull. It’s a short novel, so I got through it quickly, but it was devastatingly beautiful. If you’re debating between print and audio, get the audio version. It’s phenomenal.
by Liane Moriarty: Liane Moriarty is up to her old tricks again with this one. When a backyard barbecue ends in chaos, three families are left struggling to pick up the pieces. If you enjoy the suspenseful “a thing happened and here is the fallout but I shall not tell you what the thing is until the bitter end of the novel” tactic, this book should satisfy. If anyone is a master of that particular style, it’s Moriarty. And if you happen to be a fan of Australian accents (which I SO am) do yourself a favor and listen to the audiobook. Delicious.
by Therese Oneill. Actually, I decided to use an Audible credit to get the audio book version and OMG. It was an EXCELLENT use of a credit!
It’s so easy to get caught up in false nostalgia, isn’t it? I mean, the past gets all obscured in mist and fog. It seems so idyllic, what with the nattily dressed gents and the waltzing and folks being so polite all the time. Therese Oneill is here to burst your bubble, but her fabulous and irreverent sense of humor takes some of the sting out of it. (The narration of the audio book is A+ hilarious. If you’re on the fence, go audio!) Did you know, my little erstwhile Austen-ite, just how horrendous everyone smelled in the Victorian era? Or just how much you really love your indoor plumbing and modern sewer systems?
by Fredrick Backman (
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Britt-Marie is sixty three years old. She’s not difficult, she just happens to like things a certain way. A well organized cutlery drawer and a thorough understanding of the virtues of bicarbonate of soda (baking soda) are key to a proper life. Kent never fully appreciated the extent to which Britt-Marie kept his life in order, unfortunately, and she’s simply had enough of their loveless 40 year marriage. Once she’s left, she takes a job the only place she can find, the rather derelict town of Borg. It was once a thriving town with a large trucking company, but it was hit very hard by the financial crisis. Britt-Marie begins work attempting to bring order to the soon-to-be-demolished recreation center, and soon finds herself somehow coaching a youth soccer team.
