Publishers Weekly
08/01/2022
Jarrow (Ambushed!) chronicles the discovery of a deadly parasitic hookworm, the campaign that endeavored to control it, and the epidemic’s social implications in this prodigious work, part of the Medical Fiascoes series, which recounts U.S. public health crises occurring in the 19th and early 20th centuries. In 1902, zoologist Charles Stiles encountered a hookworm pervading the Deep South and named it Necator americanus, or “American murderer.” The parasite spread through human feces and emaciated its victims, who numbered nearly three million. Believing hookworm was “an inevitable ailment of the poor class,” middle- and upper-class white Southerners opposed treatment efforts. Stiles attempted to change their minds by manipulating their racial prejudices, stating that Black people “were better adapted to the parasite and more immune to its most harmful effects”—since it was thought to have originated in West Africa. Scientific and societal intersections are only summarily explored in this introspective work, which features straightforward prose and informative sidebars detailing other historical Southern maladies and the scientists who studied them. Photographs, diagrams, and microscopic slides are included throughout; a timeline, glossary, and additional information conclude. Ages 10–17. (Sept.)
From the Publisher
School Library Journal Best Book
NSTA/CBC Best STEM Book
NSTA/CBC Outstanding Science Trade Book
CCBC Choices 2023
Eureka! Nonfiction Silver Honor Award (California Reading Association)
Chicago Public Library Best of the Best Book
Evanston (IL) Public Library's 101 Great Books for Kids 2022
Texas Topaz Nonfiction Reading List
★ "Jarrow’s impeccable research and fascinating details will keep [readers] hooked, especially when they discover that this creature, known as Necator americanus—the American murderer—is a hookworm that once plagued the South...Numerous archival photos place readers in the time period, while a concluding chapter looks at ongoing parasitic-worm dangers across the globe...An engrossing blend of history and STEM." —Booklist, starred review
“Jarrow continues her 'Medical Fiascoes' series with this concise yet fascinating history of hookworm disease in the American South… with her usual flair, Jarrow highlights the science of hookworms, which has plenty of gross appeal to keep readers engaged. An excellent addition for middle and high school students." —School Library Journal
"Jarrow’s coverage of the biological mystery is well-organized and deftly explained, and she also skillfully handles the social context of a condition that largely affected marginalized populations. Readers who wish to delve deeper into the topic are assisted by a glossary, bibliography and website list, source notes, timeline, index, and author’s note on research." —The Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
"The title is a literal translation of the hookworm’s scientific name Necator americanus, but the lurid details don’t stop there as Jarrow goes on to expand...accounts of the creepy creature’s life cycle and the discovery of just how disturbingly prevalent 'America’s bloodsucking murderer' was in the South in the 19th and early 20th centuries... [A] searching look at the borders between science and society." —Kirkus Reviews
"Scientific and societal intersections are...explored in this introspective work, which features straightforward prose and informative sidebars detailing other historical Southern maladies and the scientists who studied them. Photographs, diagrams, and microscopic slides are included throughout; a timeline, glossary, and additional information conclude." —Publishers Weekly
"Jarrow...who has carved out a niche for herself in the history of science and medicine, here adeptly weaves solid research, primary-source quotes, and historical artifacts with elements of mystery for a compelling read." —The Horn Book
School Library Journal
09/01/2022
Gr 5–9—Jarrow continues her "Medical Fiascoes" series with this concise yet fascinating history of hookworm disease in the American South. By the early 20th century, large populations in the South were suffering from an unknown illness that left them emaciated, anemic, and unable to work. This was primarily occurring in rural poor communities. At the time, hookworm disease was largely unknown and rarely diagnosed by American doctors, despite it occurring for several decades in the South as well as in other countries. One doctor, Charles Stiles, a renowned parasitologist who worked for the USDA and later the Public Health Service, found that it was easy to diagnose, treat, and prevent. He dedicated much of his career to educating people about this debilitating illness. He faced obstacles on multiple fronts, including cultural resistance to outsiders, economic obstacles to updating sanitary conditions, and his less than charming personality that did not win him many supporters. For the first half of the book, with her usual flair, Jarrow highlights the science of hookworms, which has plenty of gross appeal to keep readers engaged. The second half is equally intriguing as she focuses on Stiles's tireless efforts along with the cultural and historical aspects of the period. VERDICT An excellent addition for middle and high school students.—Karen T. Bilton
Kirkus Reviews
2022-07-13
A case study of a public health campaign that attempted to control a debilitating disease, with only partially successful results—sound familiar?
The title is a literal translation of the hookworm’s scientific name Necator americanus, but the lurid details don’t stop there as Jarrow goes on to expand her 2003 title Hookworms with accounts of the creepy creature’s life cycle and the discovery of just how disturbingly prevalent “America’s bloodsucking murderer” was in the South in the 19th and early 20th centuries. She chronicles canny efforts, which began in 1909 as an initiative of the Rockefeller Sanitary Commission, first to galvanize those who were afflicted with hookworms to accept treatment and then to educate them about the necessity of proper human waste disposal to prevent reinfection—attempts that were initially met with skepticism. With portraits of prominent researchers and images of the toothy terror mixed in, the illustrations also include period photos of victims, many with symptomatically wasted bodies and bulging eyes. These last give powerful visual dimension to the story, but sharper viewers will notice that images of White individuals predominate. Though the author acknowledges the reality of segregation and discrimination—including the assumption that African Americans were not as susceptible to hookworm—she does not fully unpack the issue, implied by the illustrations, that the campaign leaned more toward White populations. Still, if reading that the infection rate dropped from an estimated 37% overall to 11% by 1940 may look like failure to readers expecting another tidy wipeout like the (supposed) eradication of smallpox, that’s many thousands of lives saved or improved. And if today, in many parts of the world, as she claims at the end, “the worms are winning,” here at least is a partial victory to celebrate.
Despite the odd blink, a searching look at the borders between science and society. (timeline, glossary, websites, author’s note, source notes, bibliography, index) (Nonfiction. 11-15)
