18 Tiny Deaths: The Untold Story of Frances Glessner Lee and the Invention of Modern Forensics by Bruce Goldfarb
My rating: 2 of 5 stars
I have so many mixed feelings on this book. I’ve been interested in the Nutshell Studies for probably two decades and I was thrilled when I learned about a book that finally focused on the creator of the Nutshells. Frances Glessner Lee is a relatively unknown figure who did have quite the historical impact on how we study death today. I knew that it was a full biography and not just a story of the Nutshells, however, the book did not live up to my expectations.
I’m going to start off my formal review by saying, it’s a little sassy. I had strong opinions about everything in this book. I work in civil rights and police accountability and I’m a nonprofit professional who works exclusively with individual donors. You have been forewarned.
The Review
The beginning of the book focuses heavily on Lee’s childhood in a very large, very fancy house built in Chicago by an architect who’s name was mentioned a lot but I have forgotten it because it was not at all required. Her parents had a lot of money. They had so much money, in fact, that Lee had her own tiny two-room playhouse with a working potbelly stove. Great detail was given to reading circle Lee’s mother held: their clothes, their knitting projects, their handbags. We get it. The Lee’s were drowning in material wealth and so were their friends.
Lee married the son of a “confederate hero.” Nuff said about that term. At least she divorced him and he was gone after just a few pages, which brings me to…
The tangents. Oh goodness. There are a great many of them in this book. There’s an entire chapter on George Burgess Magrath that was so interesting I started to wish the book was about him. And while he was imperative to the story of the Nutshells, the entire chapter about his life was not necessary (especially when it makes the reader want to put down your book to find one about him).
This next part is more of a professional beef I have with Harvard and Lee. The relationship Harvard has with Lee is super icky. Nonprofits and other organizations need to move away from the idea that they should do whatever the donor asks in order to get as much money as possible. Donors will milk that for all it is worth and it leads to an incredibly toxic relationship where nobody comes out on top. Stick to the mission and don’t let the donors run the show.
Goldfarb makes it painfully clear that Lee was very, very wealthy. We learn all the extravagant ways she spends her money: hosting $50,000 banquets, paying salaries for professors, buying one-of-a-kind textbooks, buying incredibly tiny hinges for her Nutshells. She even uses her wealth to gain access to rationed materials during WWII. Despite all that money, she’s still never taken seriously because she’s a woman and never went to college. However the resounding message is that nothing can hold you back if you can throw enough money at the problem. Probably not the best moral of a story.
The book was just slow. We don’t even get to the Nutshells until well after the halfway point in the book. Once Goldfarb finally got to the making of the Nutshells I was fascinated. The detail that went into finding wood with scale grain was brilliant. I loved everything about that process. Unfortunately there was only a handful of pages about Lee’s work on the Nutshells and then we went right back into throwing money at Harvard.
Lee was truly a fascinating woman. This book does her a disservice.