What an appropriate book to be reading now that the temperature has dropped and Halloween is right around the corner. I was super interested in this book since there is at least one purported skin book in a library that I frequent. The author does a good job of sorting out rumor versus truth and takes you on a journey through the vaults of many different libraries and archives looking for these unique books.

Maybe this isn't the right book for a squeamish person, but it was a really cool read.

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a review, but all opinions are my own.

This book is creepy and awesome! Author Megan Rosenbloom is a librarian and her book on 'Anthropodermic bibliopegy' is so well researched and written! At points I was so uncomfortable with the information, but I kept reading because the book is so cool. The use of human skin to bind books is just bizarre but Rosenbloom finds examples throughout history to document the practice. Of course occult books are present but medical texts were also bound. Just amazing and bizarre. Rosenbloom gets kudos for her work. Definitely not a book for everyone but any bibliophile will enjoy.

Dark Archives is a scholarly and well written study of anthropodermic bibliopegy, bookbinding in human skin. Due out 20th Oct 2020 from Macmillan on their Farrar Strauss & Giroux imprint, it's 288 pages and will be available in hardcover and ebook format. It's worth noting that the ebook format has a handy interactive table of contents as well as interactive links. I've really become enamored of ebooks with interactive formats lately.

The subject matter is both dark, repellent, and somewhat shocking. This book does a good job of looking at the subject scientifically, almost clinically. There aren't any lurid photos and the only shocking statements included are quotes which were mostly debunked. The most lurid, extreme statements about books and artifacts turned out to almost always be bound in the skins of other animals (most often sheep, goat, and horse).

As a medical professional, my education included a number of courses of instruction in ethics which covered the Hippocratic oath, informed consent, patient confidentiality and body autonomy among other subjects. I can't, however, remember that we ever covered this subject (though I distinctly remember a lecture about the creation and use of teaching samples for physiology and anatomy instruction - that made for uncomfortable listening).

The entire Anthropodermic Book Project, and the author Megan Rosenbloom provide an interesting scientific look at a bizarre footnote in medical biblio-history. This volume also includes extensive annotations, a bibliography, and index. Meticulously researched and written in layman accessible language. Five stars.

Disclosure: I received an ARC at no cost from the author/publisher for review purposes.

Thank you Netgalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for providing me with an ARC of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Dark Archives takes the reader on a journey through the history and science behind anthropodermic bibliopegy. It is written in a dynamic, respectful and enthusiastic style—which is in itself a feat when tackling such a subject as this— and it speaks of the author's contagious passion for the subject. Far from limiting her investigations to the books themselves, or to the project she leads, Rosenbloom covers a lot of ground in her book, going back in time to analyse the who, when, and how of the oldest books bound in human skin.

She uncovers often grotesque, often uncomfortable truths that nevertheless are useful for the reader to gain a sense of historical perspective: who and why had the books bound in human skin? Who did the skin belong to? What sociocultural contexts allowed for such an event? What kind of afterlife did these books have, and what kind should they have now? Rosenbloom goes back and forth into the delicate ethics surrounding the anthropodermic books and in doing so takes us from the anatomy labs of nineteenth-century Edinburgh, to mid-century murderabilia, royal midwives, ancient French bibles and contemporary efforts to preserve tattooed skin after death. The author adequately addresses how class, race, and gender intersect in the subjects whose skin was used and muses on matters of agency, consent, and legacy.

A thoroughly interesting read, if certainly macabre and oftentimes difficult to digest. Rosenbloom manages to combine science and ethics with historical story-telling in a very successful manner. Well-written and fascinating, I would definitely recommend it (with a warning for the obvious, plus cw: animal cruelty in the description of the tannery).

Gah! I can't even imagine anyone making one of these books! The ick factor apparently isn't shared by everyone. I have heard tell of these books and have always been curious about them. Thank you Ms. Rosenbloom for doing the research and writing about them! I think this is the most perfect read for leading up to Halloween. Got to wonder how many of these books are really out there and why anyone would want one? Hiding in plain sight....well, I know for certain know don't have one....or even want one...and I work in a library, too.

This was a fascinating read for anyone interested in macabre books! It definitely made me a tad squeamish at times but I loved learning more about books that were bound using human skin. I think one of the most interesting parts was how she went through different collections to find out whether a book had been bound with skin or not by using samples and testing them. It is crazy to think that these books could be sitting in a random collection somewhere without the owner knowing! The history on why and how the books are covered in skin is also very intriguing, and the author made everything really simple to understand! Definitely recommend!

This is a fascinating read for anyone interested in macabre books.
The author is a librarian! This may be the most exciting part for me to know.
She is able to do thorough research and give us the information in a simplified way, as you would expect from a proper librarian!
She goes thru different books in collections that may or may not be covered in human skin!
She is able to get samples and have them tested, she also goes thru the history of how the books, or why the books are covered in human skin.
This is a fascinating subject!

A book about books bound in human skin. You probably have some idea already whether that's for you, and Rosenbloom quite understands that the Anthropodermic Book Project of which she's part is never likely to be a mainstream interest – "My research trips tend to resemble the plot of the first twenty minutes of a horror movie – a woman alone, naively plunging into some mystery she has no business investigating, driven by a vague curiosity and a disdain for common sense." She's that commendable sort of person who can recognise the peculiarity of her own interests while still being sincere about them, as when describing "incomparably lush and velvety images that may or may not have caused me to utter aloud 'That flayed penis is just beautiful."' But at the same time, she does quietly yet firmly make a case for the wider applicability of her field, noting the parallels to things like the growing interest among the tattooed in having the canvases in which they live preserved after their death. She's keenly aware of the ethical issues surrounding material like this, but generally lands on the side of keeping, studying, contextualising over removing, let alone burying - not least because, as she shows in many different ways, a lot of the assumptions people make about how this ties in to power and structural inequality are not supported by the evidence. Most obviously, people often assume it's a Nazi thing, but there are no known examples of Nazis binding books in human skin (and even the infamous lampshade story turns out to be shaky; the one example with which she was personally involved with testing turned out not even to be animal skin, but cellulose). Stranger still: there's one pre-War book by a Jew who fell victim to the Nazis which was, and even one memoir by a survivor of the camps which reputedly was (though turned out actually to be rabbit).

Because this is another big theme – there are an awful lot more books purporting to be bound in human skin than real ones. Rosenbloom talks about the testing process, and its limits (they can't distinguish human leather from any of the other great apes, though so far as they know there are no books bound in the skins of other great apes, so the issue has yet to arise). Also about the owners and institutions who have refused testing, or would rather the results be kept confidential – both positions she respects. Indeed, she repeatedly demonstrates a welcome and old-fashioned ability to entertain good faith disagreements, even when the other party is someone as trying as Princeton librarian Paul Needham, who to me seemed worryingly ready to throw around terms like "post-mortem rape" while asserting, based on no evidence beyond his own gut feeling, that there was necessarily a patriarchal, psychosexual motive to binding a book in skin. This despite the counter-example of several books in which an account of the misdeeds or trial of a man who killed a woman were in turn bound in the skin of the guilty man after his execution - which, given the assumed consequences at the time of post-mortem dismemberment for the deceased's fate come Judgment Day, is no small additional reminder that such behaviour was quite thoroughly discouraged. Equally, books where the race of the 'donor' is specified turn out to be especially likely to be fakes; conversely, there is only one known edition of any book to have two volumes bound in human, and that's by the first black woman to be published as a poet in the fledgling US, Phillis Wheatley. Yes, there are also cases where the power dynamic is more what you'd expect: from the examples here, I'd say the default original owner of such a book is a male doctor, working somewhere between the 17th century (there's a whole fascinating section on the profession's sidelining of midwives in France around then) and the early 20th. But so many exceptions! I was especially intrigued by the highwayman who asked that his dictated autobiography be bound in his own skin - perhaps, Rosenbloom suggests, because for someone whose deathbed conversion seems implausible, that was as full an afterlife as he could conceive.

Even assuming you're OK with the book's theme and conclusions, though, there are a few glitches here and there. For all that many of the research trips recorded here do seem to have genuinely seen her acquiring new information, there are also times when it feels a little like that 'So I went to see...' contrivance so painfully familiar from presenter-led modern documentaries. The prose is haunted by occasional infelicities: "The court proceedings had to pause periodically due to noisy riots outside". As opposed to? I mean, I know there was a band called Quiet Riot, but I always thought that was a deliberate oxymoron. And the one which nearly got me off on the wrong foot altogether was right at the beginning when Rosenbloom explains that, in real life, books bound in human skin aren't nearly as blatant about it as the Evil Dead's Necronomicon – "Even if you were holding one right now, you probably wouldn't be able to tell." Which, given I was reading a Netgalley ARC on my 'phone, conjured up some horribly Cronenberg possibilities – but also doesn't really make sense, because while I hope any hardback does look suitably 'Is it..?', surely most people who read this will do so via paperback or ebook? Also, there is one tantalising hint to the contrary later, a book on breasts with a visible nipple – but Rosenbloom doesn't get to see it, only a photo in an old catalogue, so like the skin-covered de Sades, it remains a tantalising hint rather than a confirmed example. Though the last chapter does establish one pretty apt volume for sure, even as it denies a couple of other tempting possibilities – and, more interesting still, further complicates the examples of the sorts of doctors involved with the creation of these artefacts.

I enjoyed this a lot, and felt like it justified itself as a full book, even while recognising that for a lot of people it would be another case of the non-fiction book which could happily have been a long read. I hope Rosenbloom does get that wider reach too, as well as this finding its way to the ghoulish constituency who'll appreciate it. And if there's one bit which deserves to go widest of all, it's surely her reminder that as much as many may be outraged by these books, or the notion of skinning the inked, and consider it desecration of a corpse, in much of the US at least there's no real legal definition of that term, and it's not long ago at all that cremation and autopsies were placed under the same header.

“Anthropodermic bibliopegy had been a specter on the shelves of libraries, museums, and private collections for over a century. Human skin books -mostly made by 19th century doctor bibliophiles - are the only books that are controversial not for the ideas they contain, but for the physical makeup of the object. They repel and fascinate, and their very ordinary appearances mask the horror inherent in their creation.”

I have been following Megan Rosenbloom on Twitter for a while now and when I found out she was publishing a book about human skin books, I was instantly on board. I work in an archive and am around rare books all the time but I don’t actively work with them. I never considered that some might be bound in human skin so I found the concept fascinating and morbid.

I was hooked by the end of the first chapter. This book was fascinating and filled with the macabre detail of the history of these books. Rosenbloom does extensive research for each book and discusses what facts are known about the book and its skin donor, if that donor is known. I really enjoyed learning about her own experiences during her research and her feelings about what she found. While quite a few books did turn out to be bound in human skin many also turned out to be animal skin. Also quite a few of the institutions wouldn’t test their books so there are still quite a few unconfirmed human skin books out there.

“Anthropodermic books tell a complicated and uncomfortable take about the development of clinical medicine and the doctoring class, and the worst of what can come from the collision of acquisitiveness and clinical distancing.”

Intertwined with the history of these books we get the history of the doctors behind them. We learn about how these doctors wronged their patients by stealing skins for books, as well as other things. I found this section fascinating because I didn’t expect the doctors behind the book to be known. I am very interested in reading further on some of the doctors, particularly the anatomist Joseph Leidy and his unethical actions with the dead. I also really want to go to the Mutter Museum now to see a human skin book and the other objects that Leidy gave them.

“Human skin books force us to consider how we approach death and illness, and what we owe to those who have been wronged or used by medical practitioners.”

At the end of the book is a list of the confirmed human skin books as of March 2020. You can also find a list on the Wiki page for Anthropodermic bibliopegy with a link to the archives housing those books if you want further information about the archives or the book itself. .

Overall, this was a fascinating look at a very morbid topic. I loved how this was handled and the information presented to the reader. As someone who works in an archive and never considered the possibility of a human skin book, this was both very informative and eye opening. It presented me with new ways to look at the materials an archive might have and to consider my own views on the subject in relation to the archives. Your views may differ from an archive view on controversial items but their goal is to preserve all history and put it into context so people can learn from it.

*ARC provided by Netgalley for an honest review.*

For those with a macabre interest in death and dissection, this will provide you with a suitable overview. For those, like myself, who were wanting a bit more, then you will go away slightly less fulfilled.

To be honest, I personally, was left a little flat. Whilst I appreciated that the author traveled throughout the USA to the libraries and universities that held these treasures, I was looking for a more broader study. The majority of tomes covered are American based, with some case studies are from the UK (ie: Burke & Hare, Red Barn Mystery) and France.

As I mentioned, those with a passing interest will find this a fascinating book which often looks at the mythology behind the antecedents of each tome; age-old myths surrounding the production of such tomes during both the French Revolution and Nazi Germany are debunked; and the science and methodology behind the production is discussed. Unfortunately I found more than one chapter waffling on before finally getting to the point in the last few paragraphs which resulted in my interest waning.

It might go without being said, but this is the best book concerning books bound in tanned human skin that I have ever read. I'm just not sure if it was perfectly the book about the subject I wanted. It turns out that the things are much less common than you'd think, with the team the author helped set up scientifically proving their origin as and when the owners or libraries involved declare it possible. Much of the fifty allegations left they can't get a hold of, and if anything it looks like fifty more might be hidden behind completely anonymous, closed, private doors. And while the science comes up with "yup, you've got human remains around that book" roughly half the time, the list of potential claimants to be a skin-bound volume is shrinking with every negative.

So that's the wonderful side of this book – I love the idea of something so peculiar, however gory it also would feel to own one. This author offers a very non-linear swoop around all this (I got really quite befuddled in the first chapters trying to follow the timeline of what she was telling me), and of course goes to many other areas we might not initially think of. Whose was the skin, whose was the book, who created the hominid leather and got the thing bound, and what place do such human-derived artefacts have in our "rush all properties, shrunken heads et al out our museums and send them home" world?

That's the, I guess, good side of this book – it was only appropriate for someone to study the concept of human skin bindings for so long and come at it with so many aspects I wouldn't have expected. But there's also a weaker side – we get too closely intertwined with the author's medical history knowledge, from Burke and Hare, to the unusual origins of patient consent, and so much more. This woolliness seemed counter-academic to me, the medical concerns seemed to outweigh the love of books you'd expect from a librarian like our guide, and the overly personal elements took me far too far away from the books themselves and too close to the author. But like I say, in an exceptionally niche area, this is a stand-out volume. To my personal reflections, as opposed to any academic response, I think this gets three and a half stars.

Oh, and the author at no time denies having made a certain one-off of this volume… (I know she says she'd baulk at owning one, but could anything be more fitting?)

I feel like I was the target audience for this book (trained librarian, book lover, morbidly curious) and indeed I did really like it. I had even been to or heard of many of the libraries mentioned throughout this book. “Dark Archives” is a great mix of publishing history, medical history, and ethics surrounding the body and the responsibilities of libraries or museums to treat their materials with dignity. Rosenbloom hops around the US and Europe seeking out relevant cases of real and false human-skin bound books, taking breaks along the way to discuss the history of that particular title, a bindery, and a doctor or their patient. Could make you a little squeamish... but Rosenbloom is very respectful. I think this will be great for fans of Caitlin Moran and anyone interested in libraries or museums. The author even mentions “Double Fold” by Nicholson Baker, a slightly controversial book about historic preservation of newspapers that I’d recommend as a companion read to this book.

When the passion of an author in a book simply glows through the pages, you know you're onto a damn good thing. This book, though the subject material is morbid at best, is absolutely fascinating, and provides the reader with an incredible insight into the world of anthropodermic books and the people who make them (in all senses of the word).

The book follows the journey of the author through her deep dive into the world of human skin bound books, and the stories that follow on from said books. The matter of who the books were is perhaps the most interesting aspect- the stories that follow on from a book like this, the absolute dearth of books out there of this nature, and the abuses that led to many of them. I think perhaps the most interesting is where an individual chooses such a strange commodification of their body and requests bookbinding of their skin post-death- fascinating, virtually impossible in this day and age, and the root of so many interesting questions. There is such a draw of the absolute macabre here- and there are some stories which go beyond the pale of even their subject matter.

The criticism of this book I have is that it could've been, quite simply, substantially longer. There should've been more about the medical abuses of power some doctors took into their own hands, the class and race-driven imbalances in these practices, and just a bit more on the personal journey of the author. Perhaps, though, this is simply my insatiable curiosity speaking- I just wanted so much more from this book, though I am unsure that anything would have been enough on such an interesting subject.

I loved this smart, respectful, and detailed examination of the history and present of anthropodermic bibliopegy--books bound in human skin. Author Megan Rosenbloom explores her own fascination with this topic, which some might deem gruesome or morbid, and begins a research project on these rare volumes. She carefully documents the provenance of human skin-bound books, searching through auction house records, private collections, and archives. She offers information on why people had books bound in human skin, whose skin was used and why, and issues of consent. She describes the science used to determine the kind of skin a book is bound in, and discusses ongoing efforts to preserve human skin--particularly that which has been tattooed--after the death of the donor. This is a terrific book, with (pardon the pun) lively writing and a frank attitude towards the topic and the rumors that surround it.

I received an E-Arc of Dark Archives from netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

Okay as soon as I saw what this book was about I knew I had to read it I first heard about books being down in human skin quite a few years ago honestly and it's just something that's always interested me Kip Moore bed and creepy and honestly quite frankly interesting as hell. And you know what this book was just what I was hoping it would be it felt a little dense at times but I didn't really mind and learning about how many different types of books were bound is really interesting. I would definitely recommend people check this out if they're into the morbid and the macabre.

You can definitely tell that the author did the research very thoroughly and I really appreciate that.

This is one of those books you read out of morbid curiosity, because that was the reason for selecting it. And although it’s quite gruesome in its details, it was an engrossing one.

You would think that only a murderer or another deranged person would bound a book in human skin. Turned out quite the opposite.

There are not many details about most of these books but for some of them which turned out to be indeed bound in human skin *, the willingly or not donors, are now known. The author did an extensive research and I must acknowledge her dedication in trying to uncover the truth behind.

Many turned out to be bound in animal skin: pig’s, horse’s, even rabbit’s in one case. As for the reasons why would anyone want such a book, there are only suppositions.

Intertwined with the history of these books, there are many details also about the doctors and medicine practice of those times, not only from United Stated, from where she is native, but also from England, Scotland, and France.

Another interesting thing is that, if you have a tattoo and you want it preserved for your future generations, you can do that nowadays. That really gave me the creeps, for as much as I love my tattoo, I really can't think of it ending up framed on a wall… **

Bottom line is, it was a morbidly captivating read, but my first and last on this subject. The 4 stars rating is for the book only, the info provided, structure and quality of writing, because I can’t say it was an enjoyable one.

* https://anthropodermicbooks.org/
** https://savemyink.tattoo/

I thought this book was an engaging look at the history of human skin books - definitely dark - but I learned a lot about this sordid topic.

"Dark Archives" provides a fascinating look for the morbidly curious into the practice of anthropodermic bibliopegy--the binding of books with human skin. Not only does the author cover the specifics of the practice, she also provides interesting historical context about the specific titles she is investigating. "Dark Archives" will satisfy the curiosity of those interested in a wide variety of subjects including libraries/archives, bookbinding, the history of medicine, crime, and more.

This book was everything I wanted it to be, and more.

I first heard about Dark Archives on the Morbid Anatomy podcast, and I knew immediately that I had to read it, but it wasn't due out until October (quite appropriate but SO FAR AWAY!) I started following the author, Megan Rosenbloom, on Twitter and discovered that the book was available on NetGalley. I requested it immediately and crossed my fingers.

Until I heard Megan speak on the podcast, I had NO IDEA that books bound in human skin was a thing. How had my macabre sensibilities missed this gem? However, this book is more than just Megan's quest to search out true anthropodermic bibliopegy (fancy words for "books made of human skin"), it's an education and procedural in antique books, it's' a study in medical ethics past and present, and a behind-the-scenes look at the exciting world of a medical librarian! You get to follow Megan around the globe as she hunts down various legendary tomes and testing them to see if they're the real deal. Some turn out to be made out of animal skins, but a handful turn out to be the real McCoy.

Amidst the "treasure" hunt, you receive a brief education on the history of medicine in western world, how far doctors have come from paying grave robbers for bodies to autopsy to now using bodies that have been donated. It's a gruesome truth that is riddled with controversy when you consider how medicine has advanced from the dark ages on the literal backs of the poor, the murdered, and minorities. Collectors and librarians juggle their want and need to conserve history whilst trying to respect the memory of those whose bodies were used to enrich someone's personal library.

Dark Archives is a fascinating read that brings together so many elements to create a well-rounded text that is as enjoyable as it is informative.

Many thanks to NetGalley for an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.

I had no idea that there was such a thing as a book bound in human skin. I had a Silence of the Lambs moment several times throughout. the book. It was somewhat sickening, yet ghoulishly interesting. There is much in this book for discussion in medical ethics and the dark side of human nature. Worth a read and then some.