Dark Archives is an absolutely fascinating read about Megan Rosenbloom’s research in the history, making, and medical influence of anthropodermic bibliopegy. What might that be you may be asking? Well, it’s the practice of books bound in human skin.

I’ve got a pretty good curiosity for morbid things. When I saw that this book was about I knew I had to read it. It is so brilliant and informative. Plus, for me, it was an actual joy to read through. That probably sounds strange. Let me explain.

Rosenbloom is clearly very passionate about the subject. It leaps off the page and filled me with the giddy excitement of learning something new. I was wholly unprepared to find the medical history as fascinating as it is. The author’s observation on the ethical side of the matter were eye opening for me. As a person who has gone to The Mütter Museum in Philadelphia and seen the anthropodermic book on display there, at the time, all my thoughts had centered on was “wow that is so nuts, it’s like a real life Necronomicon.” And not at all on the why or The Who of it. Whose skin was it? I didn’t care at the time, and historically that certainly is part of the problem.

What I did want to make note of here is, while this book was fantastic in my eyes, I could tell that perhaps this subject might not be everyone’s cup of tea. There are things to be gleaned here in regards to medical ethics that I think are important to learn. But this book, at its heart, is a research book. I hope more people would be willing to give this one a try regardless.

Thanks to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the free copy in exchange for an honest review.

Don't let this book's creepy and unusual topic scare you off! It's a lighthearted read and an interesting look into the world of historical books and library collections. Rosenbloom explains her work while also reminding the reader of the importance of honoring the deceased while being ethical in librarianship and archives work. I'd recommend this book for anyone interested in historical topics or books in general.

A fantastic book about books bound in human skin. Megan Rosenbloom's account is extremely well-written, engaging, and accessible beyond bibliophiles. Despite the subject matter, the book is not gruesome, but personal, curious, and touching in its investigation into how such books came to exist. Highly recommended.

An unusual but very interesting book. A must-read for anyone interested in literature and history and fans of books about books.

**I received and voluntarily read an e-ARC from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. All thoughts and opinions are my own.**

Excellent book. Informative and interesting.

In one Supernatural plot arc, Sam and Dean Winchester are on the hunt for a tome called The Book of the Damned. Discovered by Charlie Bradbury in a monastery in Spain, it is a 700 year old dark magic book penned by a nun who, after having "visions of darkness," locked herself away and emerged decades later with the book, having written it all on slices of her own skin, using her own blood.

That's the sort of thing I thought Dark Archives was gonna get into, but sadly, the reality of human skin books is disappointing and banal. That's not a criticism of the book; that's on me for having expectations influenced by a CW urban fantasy show.

In reality, books bound in human skin don't really have very gruesome histories, just ones that are kind of vaguely sad and unfair, in the way that life is often unfair to the poor and marginalized. I would say that Dark Archives is a book more about the history of medical ethics than it is about human skin books, because most human skin books were made by doctors, or were found in doctors' collections. Not particularly surprising, given the medical profession's history.

As a librarian myself, I really enjoyed seeing how the author went about doing her research at various libraries, and I was fascinated by the random details she included about preservation and book binding. And I just really liked reading about another librarian, who is clearly super passionate about books, going about this project. However, the book overall did feel somewhat scattered and bloated, and uneven, too: some parts I found utterly fascinating, while others were just okay.

I guess I just wanted something a bit more sensational and gruesome; as it is, I kind of hate this book for disabusing me of the very lurid notions I had about books bound in human skin. The reality of it all is just so...mundane. Alas.

A very strange but very good read. Not quite what I expected but enjoyed it regardless. Not for the squeamish or fainthearted! I enjoyed the history and the content.

I did not see that I was approved for this title, so I missed downloading it. I did however go buy a copy and wrote a review!

I was denied this book as an ARC. I was devastated. I immediately book the book on hold at my library. I was not missing this book.

This book talks about the most intriguing books, those bound in human skin. The first time I heard about anthropodermic bibliopegy, I was standing next to Ben Franklin and Crispus Attuck’s graves (well, I was sitting on Ben Franklin’s headstone. I thought it was a bench, I swear). I was 14. I was told by the tour guide that within feet of me was a book bound in human skin. I wanted nothing more than to leave the group and go see it. I am both a book nerd and quite into darker things. It sounded much more fun than continuing a tour of Boston.

This is not just a tourist attraction or one of those oddities shops hidden right off the highway. This book talks science, it talks history, and it often talks about dispelling myths. Rosenbloom is part of The Anthropodermic Book Project which tests books claiming to be made of human skin. Rosenbloom doesn’t just accept at face value these claims and she does not speculate beyond what she is able to actually put together using names, dates, test results, and so forth. Rodenbloom is both objective and caring about the subject. I couldn’t imagine a better written book on the subject or a better author for it.

The book does not solely focus on the confirmed cases of human skin, instead there is an explanation of how the skin is generally linked to doctors and how it could have been processed. There is history of grave robbing, the history of the use of cadavers in medical schools, the history of tanning. There is so much that goes into the history of books. I am really glad the author gave more background on the related areas. I know little to nothing about historical tanning processes, so I was wondering how the skin could have bene processed. It was interesting to see urine could have been part of it! I knew a bit about the history of cadavers, but this fleshed out more of the surgical side of things than I had. It is a great introduction.

There is even mention of modern day preservations of human skin, like with tattoo preservations and some discussions on the current laws of becoming a book. There is so much ambiguity that it seems like maybe there is a chance of still being turned into a book, but it seems like it is unlikely to happen.

Rosenbloom does not focus so heavily on the science aspects, but gives enough details that things make sense. I am not a chemist, I do not need to know the chemical compounds of human skin. The idea that there is a test and how the samples are collected for this test is the exact right amount of detail I needed to be able to appreciate what was happening. There is more information out there, but this book really focused on the books. This is something I really appreciated. I didn’t need to be bogged down with science that would be above my head, when I wanted to marvel, appreciate, and respect the history of something seen as so taboo. I would still do anything I could to be able to read and touch one of the books bound in human skin, preferably one in English, but if I have to teach myself French so be it.

The best, and I truly mean the greatest fact I have learned in so long, fact is that there is an Edgar Allen Poe in existence that is claimed to be bound in human skin. I was once sent to the school counselor, because I mentioned I liked necrophilia while we were reading Poe’s Annabel Lee. I had forgotten to write “in literature”. So I clearly disturbed my teacher with my lack of caring about homework that never really mattered (she would give the answers before you turned in the worksheets, so you never actually had to read the books or think, so I got cocky). If only she had known about this book bound in skin, maybe my missing of two words would have been less worrisome!

What a wild read! I loved the fascinating, weird history explored. I have already ordered a copy for the library. Hopefully our patrons will enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you for the early read!

This one actually isn't as grim as the title implies. The author describes her work with the anthropodermic book project, which uses scientific testing to prove whether books supposedly bound in human skin are authentic. I don't know if I was more surprised by the number of confirmed examples or the fact that they look so much like any other old, leather bound book. The science and the reasons the authentic books were made in the first place intrigued me, but the short book also takes a lot of detours, including the author's plans for donating her own remains after her death.

I would like to preface this review indicating that this particular area of academic intrigue greatly interested me from the start. I had already pre-ordered this new research treatise prior to being approved for an advanced reading copy by the publishers. I write this review as an arc reviewer in exchange for an honest review, but also as a genuine biblio research nerd who now owns this book as a hardcover copy, complete with highlights and sticky-noted pages. Ms. Rosenbloom, this was a wonderful example of contemporary research exposing historical controversy. The writing was both accessible and exceptionally informative. Anyone interested in the unique corners of the biblioteque and the significance in its direct impact on historical archival work will find this focus highly interesting. Extremely niche in her focus, Rosenbloom successfully invites, informs, and encourages conversation. Far from just a thesis, the narrative elements elevate Dark Archives into a level of its own and I was so grateful to be exposed to a writer whose passion shines in every page.

I will admit, I was not well versed in what it meant to be ‘death positive’ until learning from Rosenbloom in this work. She is a scholar, librarian, and actively engaged member in her community in focus groups pertaining to death as a concept, conversation, narrative, academic intrigue, and artistry. I found this incredible engagement with her area of interest tell-tale of how passionate she is for this topic – so I knew this book would be a treat. It does not disappoint. Here, Rosenbloom explores her investigations of anthropodermic bibliopegy – the antiquated practice of binding books in human skin. What I did expect: an eye-opening look into the scientific methods to determine how and when these books were created. I received this and more as a reader. What I did not expect but was met with were the detailed and careful explorations of the ethics surrounding the creation as well as the custodianship of these books. The controversy of housing books bound in skin rather than having them buried or burned was of particular shock to me.

That which made Dark Archives stand out from other research focused non-fiction was its multifaced focus on the history of medical ethics as well as book binding/ preservation of organic materials. This book is not a sensationalized compilation of stories with cult pasts and wicked curses. It is a real expression of what humankind can to do one another, causing me to continually recall the title of Arendt’s work “Banality of Evil.”

Rosenbloom did a phenomenal job at diving into the history of the practice, addressed key misconceptions, and brought to the fore so many nuanced discussion points. She tore into medical ethics, racial tensions, and socioeconomic factors. She shed light on varied international perspectives toward what constitutes a corpse versus a cultural artifact. Honestly, there aren’t enough words to describe this work- it was so unbelievably illuminating and I can’t wait to learn more!

At the end of the day, the only downside to the piece was that it felt like it was all over the place. I know. It’s a pretty big downside. I loved the vivid depictions and the intense detail, but the narrative did not move in a way that made sense to me. I wish it went in chronological order so that we could learn and evolve along with Rosenbloom. Alas.

This was equal parts disturbing and fascinating, and the author gave the topic such care and attention and also made critiques of the medical profession, both in the past and now. The writing wasn't dry, and at times it was voicey, and it was just such an interesting look into a gross subject.

This was genuinely both fascinating and needed history: my own understanding of book bindings that used human skin was certainly linked to imagined early-modern grimoires and to Nazis, but Rosenbloom carefully examines the history of real examples to target an era both later and earlier than I had imagined. The image of the doctor who covered his medical tomes in it carefully putting an indigent women's skin in a pail for pickling will stay with me, as will the volume of poetry... I wouldn't describe this as precisely a microhistory, but it manages to knit together many small insights into different eras and to allow us to imaginatively enter into the circumstances of production for each legitimate object Rosenbloom has identified.

Anthropodermic bibliopegy. Certainly not two words that I thought I would ever add to my vocabulary much less understand. But they're two words that will take you down an intriguing and macabre path. Reader this book is not for the faint of heart. It's the study of books bound in human skin.

Yes...you read that right. And yes you can question why someone would read such a thing. For me it was to expand upon the topic of the history of medicine which is a subject I've become interested in in the past few years. As to how this book applies to that, you need first understand that many of these books were not created by serial killers or Nazis or monsters as many believe. Nope, most of these books were created by your average run-of-the-mill doctors who pushed professional detachment too far.

The individual who wrote this is a medical librarian who, after coming across one in a collection, set out to find, test, and catalog the dozens of similar others that are out there. In doing so she sought to also try and understand how these books came to be, who were the individuals who became the books, and who would create such a thing.

This is as much a study of medical ethics across the years and detective work to pull back the veil of this strange collection, as it is anything else. The subject is treated with respect and is absent sensationalism. It is not a read that'll be for everyone but I've always found that you can't appreciate the light within humanity without also understanding the dark. So expand your knowledge, but proceed with caution .

Dark Archives takes a deep dive into the history of medicine I did not expect from a book written by a librarian examining literary works allegedly bound in human skin. Because - surprise - the taking of "souvenirs" from non-consenting patients in order to enrich one's library of collectible anatomy atlases seems to have been a hobby mostly taken up by physicians until disturbingly late into the 20th century. As a doctor, I'll always be the first one to throw shade on my colleagues, former or contemporary, so this work of non-fiction only consolidated my believes that nothing is beyond this profession when it comes to morals.

From the French Revolution to Victorian murderabilia to dissections halls and then again, what else, to the Third Reich, Rosenbloom takes us places through her anthropodermic bibliography - often revisiting points in her own career, sometimes from an autobiographical perspective I did not enjoy as much, but always in a coherent way. She illuminates the many underlying social issues caught up between those human bindings (besides the obvious abuse of human remains), like racism and sexism, and chooses a topic very dear to me for her conclusional epilogue: that of clinical empathy and medical ethics.

I'm still reflecting on that last chapter, and on how my views on death and dead tissue may have been changed not only through experiences during medical school, but als by others and their ridiculous expectations of me. Rest assured: I still find the idea of books bound in human skin appalling and wouldn't touch one even with gloves on.

Anthropodermic bibliopegy. Say that five times fast.

You won't have to say it fast, but you will read it many times in the course of this book. What is it? Oh, just the binding of books in human skin.

Librarian and researcher extraordinaire Megan Rosenbloom takes the reader on a journey, beginning and ending at the Mutter Museum - which seems to be popping up in my reading a lot lately - home of the largest known collection of anthropodermic books in the world (that's five books, if you're curious).

Rosenbloom gives us a crash course on all things anthropodermic (see, you get so used to that word that you start using it yourself), touching on medical history, women's and minority group issues, leather making, book binding, grave robbing, "burking" (as in, Burke and Hare), Nazi concentration camps, tattoo art, the ethics of the medical profession, and the modern push for a culture of death-positivity.

At 288 pages, only about 200 of which are actual reading (the rest being notes), this little book still packs a thought-provoking punch. The language is technical at times which slows the reading down a bit but I read the whole thing in three days. This is not the kind of book you devour in one sitting, not because it isn't "good" or interesting but because after awhile it turns into brain overload and time is needed to recover between readings.

Emphasizing the historical and cultural atmospheres that allowed binding books in human skin to even be a thing and walking the thin line between viewing these books as fascinating pieces of macabre art and having respect for the people whose skin was used - usually without consent, Rosenbloom pulls you in and carries you along down the rabbit hole that is the world of anthropodermic bibliopegy.

I'm going to end up giving up on this one. Rosenbloom's book explores the fascinating topic of anthropodermic bibliopegy throughout history. I'm a big horror and true crime reader but somehow this book ended up being too gross even for me.

If you are like me, you probably think books bound in human skin were made and owned by evil cults or serial killers but that could not be further from the truth. Gentlemen doctors and rare book collectors were the real “artists” behind these constructions. Rosenbloom takes a deep dive into the history of medicine to discover how the materials were harvested and the dissociative attitudes that allowed these doctors to see their patients as raw materials. If you are interested in the questionable practices of early medicine including grave robbing and body snatching this book will interest you.

Contrary to what movies and fiction novels might have you believe; the donors of the skin were deceased before harvesting. The doctors had a convenient supply as their patients succumbed to the many diseases of the 18th and 19th centuries. This wasn’t done to keep some sick trophy but for financial purposes. The value of a book would skyrocket when bound in human skin. Collectors, both in the past and the present, value the rare and the controversial and human skin books fit the bill.

Rosenbloom explores the mechanics of tanning and preparing animal hides to extrapolate how these processes might have worked with human skin. I found this section to be the most gruesome and graphic. As a fashion lover I am shocked that I never thought about suede and why it is textured. I learned something and I kind of wish I hadn’t! If you are curious suede is the underside of the hide/skin and it is fuzzy textured because it was connected to all the tissues and blood vessels inside the body. I found this incredibly disturbing. To take the horror one step further, there is one human skin book that is human suede. Human suede!!! I am not easily grossed out but that one has stuck with me.

This book is not for the squeamish or faint of heart, although if you are intrigued by this book you are likely rather hardy and not easily grossed out. For the most part it was highly informative and not at all salacious. The identities of the “donors” of the skins are treated like the real people they were and not just the objects they became. Rosenbloom tells their stories with dignity and compassion. While I found the technical aspects of the books construction objectively interesting it is the stories of these “donors” that really had emotional impact.

Thank you to Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing an Electronic Advance Reader Copy via NetGalley for review.

Absolutely fascinating. It might have been strange (read: macabre) beach reading, but the journey was compelling enough to unfold as the best kind of nerdy librarian mystery thriller. I'd always assumed human-bound books to be apocryphal at best and a very strange urban legend at worst. This book is a perfect intersection between book history and horror.