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The Apparitionists: A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, Photography, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln's Ghost
A story of faith and fraud in post–Civil War America, told through the lens of a photographer who claimed he could capture images of the dead
In the early days of photography, in the death-strewn wake of the Civil War, one man seized America’s imagination. A “spirit photographer,” William Mumler took portrait photographs that featured the ghostly presence of a lost loved one alongside the living subject. Mumler was a sensation: The affluent and influential came calling, including Mary Todd Lincoln, who arrived at his studio in disguise amidst rumors of séances in the White House. Peter Manseau brilliantly captures a nation wracked with grief and hungry for proof of the existence of ghosts and for contact with their dead husbands and sons. It took a circus-like trial of Mumler on fraud charges, starring P. T. Barnum for the prosecution, to expose a fault line of doubt and manipulation. And even then, the judge sided with the defense—nobody ever solved the mystery of his spirit photography. This forgotten puzzle offers a vivid snapshot of America at a crossroads in its history, a nation in thrall to new technology while clinging desperately to belief.
In the early days of photography, in the death-strewn wake of the Civil War, one man seized America’s imagination. A “spirit photographer,” William Mumler took portrait photographs that featured the ghostly presence of a lost loved one alongside the living subject. Mumler was a sensation: The affluent and influential came calling, including Mary Todd Lincoln, who arrived at his studio in disguise amidst rumors of séances in the White House. Peter Manseau brilliantly captures a nation wracked with grief and hungry for proof of the existence of ghosts and for contact with their dead husbands and sons. It took a circus-like trial of Mumler on fraud charges, starring P. T. Barnum for the prosecution, to expose a fault line of doubt and manipulation. And even then, the judge sided with the defense—nobody ever solved the mystery of his spirit photography. This forgotten puzzle offers a vivid snapshot of America at a crossroads in its history, a nation in thrall to new technology while clinging desperately to belief.
Audiobook
First published October 10, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 185 reviews
December 3, 2017
This turned out to be rather different from what I expected, but I found it interesting. The subtitle, “A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln's Ghost,” suggests that the book is about William Mumler and his spirit photography, and that is, indeed, the spine that runs through the book and holds it together. The bulk of Manseau's work, though, is an exploration of the early days of American photography and its revolutionary impact on the culture. The Civil War, with its legacy of loss and grief on a vast scale, created an ideal market for a man offering to reveal a last glimpse of lost family members or friends, and the wonder of the recently invented telegraph machine and other advances in the use of electricity made the capture of other “invisible energies” seem more plausible.
The organization of the book feels a little random, but each topic visited is fun, and does help provide a context in which Mumler's spirit photographs, clearly fake as they appear now, might seem credible to the many people who found comfort in the photos purporting to show the spirits of dead loved ones. I found the sections on Alexander Gardner (who took many of the photos credited to Mathew Brady, a fellow whose marketing skills seem to have equaled his gifts as a photographer) and P.T. Barnum particularly enjoyable.
The story of Mumler himself was a little disappointing, in large part because Manseau can't tell us how he actually made the photographs, and there are no “secret” letters to his wife or friends in which he crows triumphantly about his fraud or complains, martyr-like, about the skepticism of his critics. No personal insights about him at all, really. We get the facts of his careers – as an engraver, an inventor of a dyspepsia remedy, a photographer, a spirit photographer, and, later in life, as inventor of a photographic process for printing photos in newspaper – but never much sense of the man himself. I assume this is due to a lack of information, as Manseau successfully conveys the personalities of other figures, but his central character remains rather an enigma.
I listened to the audio version of this, so I missed out on the illustrations, but Wikipedia offers a fine selection of Mumler's spirit photographs. Jefferson Mays was the reader on the recording, and it took me a while to get used to his accent, which struck me as “affected,” but eventually I did, and aside from that he did a fine job.
The organization of the book feels a little random, but each topic visited is fun, and does help provide a context in which Mumler's spirit photographs, clearly fake as they appear now, might seem credible to the many people who found comfort in the photos purporting to show the spirits of dead loved ones. I found the sections on Alexander Gardner (who took many of the photos credited to Mathew Brady, a fellow whose marketing skills seem to have equaled his gifts as a photographer) and P.T. Barnum particularly enjoyable.
The story of Mumler himself was a little disappointing, in large part because Manseau can't tell us how he actually made the photographs, and there are no “secret” letters to his wife or friends in which he crows triumphantly about his fraud or complains, martyr-like, about the skepticism of his critics. No personal insights about him at all, really. We get the facts of his careers – as an engraver, an inventor of a dyspepsia remedy, a photographer, a spirit photographer, and, later in life, as inventor of a photographic process for printing photos in newspaper – but never much sense of the man himself. I assume this is due to a lack of information, as Manseau successfully conveys the personalities of other figures, but his central character remains rather an enigma.
I listened to the audio version of this, so I missed out on the illustrations, but Wikipedia offers a fine selection of Mumler's spirit photographs. Jefferson Mays was the reader on the recording, and it took me a while to get used to his accent, which struck me as “affected,” but eventually I did, and aside from that he did a fine job.
January 21, 2018
First, it's a mess as far as scope & organization. There were a few times I thought about quitting it, but then plugged on hoping that later chapters would tie things together more, or narrow the focus, or coalesce the topic by the end. It kind-of, sort-of did by the final couple of chapters, but the majority of it was like reading a bunch of semi- or barely-related vignettes about the early days & rise of photography here in the US. A defined focus & a strong editorial hand would have helped immensely.
That said, the topics & subject matter were fairly interesting. For example, Matthew Brady (of Civil War photography fame) was rarely in the field himself -- many of the images were taken by others he sent into the field to record the war. Brady also capitalized on having a location in a prime spot in NY across from P.T. Barnum's American Museum.
The main part of the story (though it didn't fully achieve it) was (I think) to discuss William Mumler, a spirit photographer (someone who took portrait photos where often, but not always, ghostly images of deceased loved ones would also appear in the pictures). After years in the business, he was arrested & charged with fraud; his trial was widely publicized. One of Mumler's photographs is a portrait of Mary Todd Lincoln with a ghostly image of her husband behind her.
Overall, the topics were interesting, but the lack of organization & definition maddening. Worth reading if you're interested in the subject matter. And the photos that were reproduced in the book were fun to look at. The book did give some food for thought re: the power of images, the power to manipulate, & our image-obsessed society of today.
That said, the topics & subject matter were fairly interesting. For example, Matthew Brady (of Civil War photography fame) was rarely in the field himself -- many of the images were taken by others he sent into the field to record the war. Brady also capitalized on having a location in a prime spot in NY across from P.T. Barnum's American Museum.
The main part of the story (though it didn't fully achieve it) was (I think) to discuss William Mumler, a spirit photographer (someone who took portrait photos where often, but not always, ghostly images of deceased loved ones would also appear in the pictures). After years in the business, he was arrested & charged with fraud; his trial was widely publicized. One of Mumler's photographs is a portrait of Mary Todd Lincoln with a ghostly image of her husband behind her.
Overall, the topics were interesting, but the lack of organization & definition maddening. Worth reading if you're interested in the subject matter. And the photos that were reproduced in the book were fun to look at. The book did give some food for thought re: the power of images, the power to manipulate, & our image-obsessed society of today.
March 8, 2019
I enjoyed this book but the title was a bit misleading as it touched on many aspects of photography/the War Between The States/Spiritualism.
The daguerreotype took the world by storm when it was introduced in France. Prior to that, the only images that individuals had of loved ones were portraits in oil or charcoal. Although the process was slow and the subject of the photograph had to sit motionless for as long as 20 minutes or the image would blur, it seemed a miracle and people rushed to have photos taken. Photography studios sprang up in all cities and then something strange happened. A photographer named William Mumler started producing photos which contained "spirit images" hovering over the live subject....usually a dead relative and Mumler said he was confounded by this apparent miracle. Needless to say, it caused thousands of bereaved people to ask for a sitting, hoping that the image of the dead husband, wife, child, et al would appear.
The story switches track a few times to hail the war photography of Mathew Brady and its historic effect. Although it veered away from the main story, it was still an informative section explaining the processes used to preserve the horror of that conflict.
Eventually, when the author is done with his history of photography narrative, he returns to Mumler and the trial that ensued when his work was determined to be fraudulent.....or was it? Spiritualism was at its height during the mid to late 19th century and he had many champions. The outcome of the trial is interesting and the methods that Mumler used (if they were fraudulent) are not fully explained. An interesting look at a cause celebre that has almost been lost to history. A 3.5 star rating.
The daguerreotype took the world by storm when it was introduced in France. Prior to that, the only images that individuals had of loved ones were portraits in oil or charcoal. Although the process was slow and the subject of the photograph had to sit motionless for as long as 20 minutes or the image would blur, it seemed a miracle and people rushed to have photos taken. Photography studios sprang up in all cities and then something strange happened. A photographer named William Mumler started producing photos which contained "spirit images" hovering over the live subject....usually a dead relative and Mumler said he was confounded by this apparent miracle. Needless to say, it caused thousands of bereaved people to ask for a sitting, hoping that the image of the dead husband, wife, child, et al would appear.
The story switches track a few times to hail the war photography of Mathew Brady and its historic effect. Although it veered away from the main story, it was still an informative section explaining the processes used to preserve the horror of that conflict.
Eventually, when the author is done with his history of photography narrative, he returns to Mumler and the trial that ensued when his work was determined to be fraudulent.....or was it? Spiritualism was at its height during the mid to late 19th century and he had many champions. The outcome of the trial is interesting and the methods that Mumler used (if they were fraudulent) are not fully explained. An interesting look at a cause celebre that has almost been lost to history. A 3.5 star rating.
August 11, 2021
A readable history that nonetheless illustrates the peril in trying to hook a set of broad historical narrative around a single moment or individual. In this case, Peter Manseau tries to use the mid-nineteenth-century trial of William Mumler, the "spirit photographer" who claimed to have captured the ghosts of Abraham Lincoln and others on photographic plates, to tell the story of the invention of photography and photographic fraud, the rise of Spiritualism, public grief and memorialisation in response to the U.S. Civil War, bigger questions of hope and belief, and more. This is a lot, and neither the rather thin historical source base we've got about Mumler nor Manseau's organisational choices enable The Apparitionists to be a wholly satisfying read. Still, it's a brisk read with some good "people bought that?" moments—and you know they've got to be good to get me to do a doubletake in 2021, the year when credulous gullibility and wilful ignorance seems almost to be in fashion.
October 18, 2017
A fascinating examination of the curious intersection of Civil War grief, Spiritualism, and photographer technology. I interviewed Peter Manseau about his book here at The Washington Post:
https://www.facebook.com/roncharles/p...
https://www.facebook.com/roncharles/p...
April 23, 2020
This book could definitely have done with tightening up the scope of the history presented here. Quite a bit seems unconnected to the main part or vaguely unrelated anyway. I stuck with it because William Mumler was so intriguing as was the phenomenon of his spirit photography. The photos included here are fascinating.
November 27, 2017
3 stars
I will be truthful. I did not read this book cover to cover. I pretty much picked and chose what chapters that I wanted to read. I was really ready for a non-fiction book and tried this one, but it was not what I was looking for.
This book has a number of pictures in it. Mostly pictures that show a ghost or spirit along side the person of interest. This was when photography was in its very early stages. Some of the pictures had the living person so far to one side that you could not believe that the session was anything but staged to allow room for the presence of a spirit. There were a number of speculatives on how this was happening - dirty glass, what we know now as a double exposure, being done during the chemical development of the print.
However, there were a number of very prominent people who sought out this photographer, William Mumler. Mary Todd Lincoln's picture is in the book, with the ghostly presence of President Lincoln over her shoulder.
I think the best description of this book may be a direct quote from it.
"Peter Manseau (the author) brilliantly captures a nation wracked with grief and hungry for proof of the existence of ghosts and for contact with their dead husbands and sons. It took a circus-like trial of Mumler on fraud charges, starring P. T. Barnum for the prosecution, to expose a fault line of doubt and manipulation. And even then, the judge sided with the defense—nobody ever solved the mystery of his spirit photography."
I will be truthful. I did not read this book cover to cover. I pretty much picked and chose what chapters that I wanted to read. I was really ready for a non-fiction book and tried this one, but it was not what I was looking for.
This book has a number of pictures in it. Mostly pictures that show a ghost or spirit along side the person of interest. This was when photography was in its very early stages. Some of the pictures had the living person so far to one side that you could not believe that the session was anything but staged to allow room for the presence of a spirit. There were a number of speculatives on how this was happening - dirty glass, what we know now as a double exposure, being done during the chemical development of the print.
However, there were a number of very prominent people who sought out this photographer, William Mumler. Mary Todd Lincoln's picture is in the book, with the ghostly presence of President Lincoln over her shoulder.
I think the best description of this book may be a direct quote from it.
"Peter Manseau (the author) brilliantly captures a nation wracked with grief and hungry for proof of the existence of ghosts and for contact with their dead husbands and sons. It took a circus-like trial of Mumler on fraud charges, starring P. T. Barnum for the prosecution, to expose a fault line of doubt and manipulation. And even then, the judge sided with the defense—nobody ever solved the mystery of his spirit photography."
December 4, 2020
I listened to this one because I'm a fan of the narrator, as much as for the content. Ended up needing to increase the speed slightly (something I rarely adjust), but it worked well as an audiobook.
What to expect? Some reviewers expressed frustration that the material doesn't completely center on Mummler and his trial, but digresses into other areas, which I find a bit unrealistic. The story bookends Mummler's story, with a joint focus on the growth of the Spiritualist movement, and the rise of photography as a technology during the mid-1800s. Those were well-enough integrated that I found the material worked as a cohesive narrative.
I suppose I might've preferred to skip the section on photographing the Civil War dead (in fact I did finally jump ahead a bit to get out of that), nor was I thrilled with the brief appearance of P. T. Barnum. Those are what a friend would've called "quibbles" though - overall, I found the material interesting and glad I read this.
Recommended for folks with a serious interest in American history or paranormal activity.
What to expect? Some reviewers expressed frustration that the material doesn't completely center on Mummler and his trial, but digresses into other areas, which I find a bit unrealistic. The story bookends Mummler's story, with a joint focus on the growth of the Spiritualist movement, and the rise of photography as a technology during the mid-1800s. Those were well-enough integrated that I found the material worked as a cohesive narrative.
I suppose I might've preferred to skip the section on photographing the Civil War dead (in fact I did finally jump ahead a bit to get out of that), nor was I thrilled with the brief appearance of P. T. Barnum. Those are what a friend would've called "quibbles" though - overall, I found the material interesting and glad I read this.
Recommended for folks with a serious interest in American history or paranormal activity.
March 12, 2021
I realized I was dreading reading this out of fear of extreme dullness, so I took that as a sign to stop.
March 1, 2018
A quirky little book about one of the weird and macabre phases of American History. The cast of characters for this book was extensive and at times felt a bit jumbled and messy. It didn't hold my attention well, especially for being a subject that I find interesting.
If you are interested in vintage photography, American History, and turn of the century con men, then you'll probably at lease minimally enjoy this book.
If you are interested in vintage photography, American History, and turn of the century con men, then you'll probably at lease minimally enjoy this book.
January 13, 2023
A seemingly honest tradesman falls into a lucrative new religion and becomes known as one of the leading hucksters of his day. And that’s saying a lot when he was competing with P.T. Barnum. But unfortunately, his story was really rather boring and uncomplicated. So, simply to fill it out, the author gives an incredibly detailed history of photography, prominent photographers of the day (their entire lives), the history of spiritism, famous photographs taken by all the aforementioned photographers. I started to feel a little duped myself as the story wandered along through all the side stories. Really, it should have been presented more as a history of photography than a history of spiritism or even a fraud. It was really only the very beginning and the end of the book that Mummer and his activities are the focus.
Still, I learned a lot about the unreliability of even the most famous historic photos. There are a lot of random details about all sorts of period trivia that are really interesting. I was never bored. It just wasn’t what it portrayed itself to be.
It was clean. I really appreciated that.
Still, I learned a lot about the unreliability of even the most famous historic photos. There are a lot of random details about all sorts of period trivia that are really interesting. I was never bored. It just wasn’t what it portrayed itself to be.
It was clean. I really appreciated that.
January 7, 2024
I quite liked this book. At first it was surprising to see that so much of the book was about the early days of photography. But it turned out that scams existed from the very early days of the medium.
October 28, 2020
An unusual, but interesting story!
October 8, 2018
If the following names ring a bell, you’ll discover why The Apparitionists was intriguing reading for me: Abraham Lincoln, Matthew Brady, P. T. Barnum, Samuel F. B. Morse, and John Brown. The full title of this niche history is, The Apparitionists: A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, Photography, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln’s Ghost. The title almost reads like one of P.T. Barnum’s press releases or posters. It was the word “Fraud” that caused me to pick up this title, as well as a desire to discover the truth behind those “spirit” pictures of the 19th century.
Truth be told, I didn’t realize that Morse, inventor of the telegraph, was such a pioneer in photography. I didn’t realize that he was the mentor of the famous Matthew Brady of American Civil War photography fame. Nor did I realize that Brady had photographed all of the characters in Barnum’s “American Museum” before it burned down the first time. More importantly, I didn’t realize that Brady had usurped the credit for many of those ACW photographs from one his own staffers, Alexander Gardner. Nor, had I realized that the famous image of the dead Confederate sharpshooter in Devil’s Den (on the Gettysburg battlefield) had been staged by dragging the corpse and bringing the rifle to one of the picturesque (indeed, iconic) venues within the Devil’s Den rocks (I’ve stood there myself!) and posed the deceased there for dramatic effect. I also loved the story behind another Brady contemporary, Jeremiah Gurney, and how he managed to capture an image of President Lincoln’s body lying in state which is one of our most valuable artifacts of those sad days. And, I never realized that Congress was hesitant to pay Brady for all of the money he had spent in recording the ACW in materials, travel expenses, and photographers’ wages. Fortunately, they were eventually procured for posterity, but not for any just compensation of the photographer.
I also didn’t realize just how much Spiritualism (as in communicating with the dead) received a boost from the massive death toll of the ACW. I knew the movement was partly a result of the Second Great Awakening of religious revival in the United States at the beginning of the 19th century, but I didn’t realize quite how prevalent it was within society, even of the educated sector of society. As for the “spirit” pictures, I always assumed that they were accidental (or deliberately fraudulent) double-exposures. Author Peter Manseau admits that it is possible to recreate something like those photographs using double-exposure, but he goes to great trouble to document all those who observed both the loading and unloading of the camera, the taking of the image, and the development process. Many experts in both the nascent field of photography and in the age-old art of deception (Barnum comes to mind.) attempted to catch William Mumler, the foremost practitioner of spirit photographs, in the act of fraud.
Indeed, some of the most fascinating pages in the book deal with the trial of Mumler. Not only was much of the testimony preposterous, but the way one attorney snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory was fascinating—as was Barnum’s ambiguous testimony. Manseau offers up a list of how Mumler might have done these photographs, but there is an aura of mystery in that none of the fraudulent techniques quite checked all the boxes. Manseau’s tone seems sure that Mumler was guilty of chicanery, but somewhat disappointed that he couldn’t prove conclusively how Mumler managed his craft.
The Apparitionists: A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, Photography, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln’s Ghost both is and isn’t what I expected. It wasn’t quite the tell-all I thought I’d picked up, but it was chock-full of historical anecdotes and the flavor of that era. So, I have no regrets about reading the book. Indeed, I even picked up an unexpected quotation from P. T. Barnum: “Money is in some respect like fire; it is a very excellent servant, but a terrible master.” (p. 187)
Truth be told, I didn’t realize that Morse, inventor of the telegraph, was such a pioneer in photography. I didn’t realize that he was the mentor of the famous Matthew Brady of American Civil War photography fame. Nor did I realize that Brady had photographed all of the characters in Barnum’s “American Museum” before it burned down the first time. More importantly, I didn’t realize that Brady had usurped the credit for many of those ACW photographs from one his own staffers, Alexander Gardner. Nor, had I realized that the famous image of the dead Confederate sharpshooter in Devil’s Den (on the Gettysburg battlefield) had been staged by dragging the corpse and bringing the rifle to one of the picturesque (indeed, iconic) venues within the Devil’s Den rocks (I’ve stood there myself!) and posed the deceased there for dramatic effect. I also loved the story behind another Brady contemporary, Jeremiah Gurney, and how he managed to capture an image of President Lincoln’s body lying in state which is one of our most valuable artifacts of those sad days. And, I never realized that Congress was hesitant to pay Brady for all of the money he had spent in recording the ACW in materials, travel expenses, and photographers’ wages. Fortunately, they were eventually procured for posterity, but not for any just compensation of the photographer.
I also didn’t realize just how much Spiritualism (as in communicating with the dead) received a boost from the massive death toll of the ACW. I knew the movement was partly a result of the Second Great Awakening of religious revival in the United States at the beginning of the 19th century, but I didn’t realize quite how prevalent it was within society, even of the educated sector of society. As for the “spirit” pictures, I always assumed that they were accidental (or deliberately fraudulent) double-exposures. Author Peter Manseau admits that it is possible to recreate something like those photographs using double-exposure, but he goes to great trouble to document all those who observed both the loading and unloading of the camera, the taking of the image, and the development process. Many experts in both the nascent field of photography and in the age-old art of deception (Barnum comes to mind.) attempted to catch William Mumler, the foremost practitioner of spirit photographs, in the act of fraud.
Indeed, some of the most fascinating pages in the book deal with the trial of Mumler. Not only was much of the testimony preposterous, but the way one attorney snatched defeat out of the jaws of victory was fascinating—as was Barnum’s ambiguous testimony. Manseau offers up a list of how Mumler might have done these photographs, but there is an aura of mystery in that none of the fraudulent techniques quite checked all the boxes. Manseau’s tone seems sure that Mumler was guilty of chicanery, but somewhat disappointed that he couldn’t prove conclusively how Mumler managed his craft.
The Apparitionists: A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, Photography, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln’s Ghost both is and isn’t what I expected. It wasn’t quite the tell-all I thought I’d picked up, but it was chock-full of historical anecdotes and the flavor of that era. So, I have no regrets about reading the book. Indeed, I even picked up an unexpected quotation from P. T. Barnum: “Money is in some respect like fire; it is a very excellent servant, but a terrible master.” (p. 187)
October 30, 2020
After reading ‘The Apparitionists’ I can easily see why it was a NPR Best Book of 2017 and blurbed as ‘a rare work of historical nonfiction that is both studious and just plain entertaining’ and among the Publishers Weekly Top Ten Books of 2017. Peter Manseau takes a narrative approach to distilling a moment in American history that is equally intriguing, mysterious, and culturally relevant to our understanding of grief. If you are interested in any of the following, you will find something to capture your attention in this story; Spritualism, the history of photography, the American Civil War, historic court cases, presidential histories, narrative nonfiction, and the unexplained.
There is no doubt that the advent of photography changed the world. From an art historical standpoint, it made the necessity of realistic depictions through paint and brush, wood and chisel irrelevant. In equal turn, photography could inherently capture verisim, documenting the world with accuracy, while also serving as a form of creative expression. This is especially interesting when we consider that during the Civil War, many photographers captured posed and constructed images for public consumption. These images were artistic, grisly, and ultimately fabricated, as in the case of (attributed) Timothy O' Sullivan's 'Home of a Rebel Sharpshooter' from 1863. However, they were not condemned as being unrealistic or fraudulent by the public. These composed photographs were understood to be manipulated for artistic purposes to serve as mediations on loss and the tragedies of war for consumption by the general public. I point this out because in the case of spirit photography, the opposite is true for amateur photographer William Mumler who was tried for selling ghostly images, presumably manipulating his customers, and profiting off their grief.
Told in four concise parts, Manseau lays out an elaborate socio-cultural history of the 19th century. Part I explores the history of photography, its acceptance as artistic media, and examines those that were the earliest pioneers of its potential. Part II recounts the birth of Spiritualism and its astronomical rise in popularity. Part III is a masterwork in mining primary source material and details the trial of William Mumler and the public response. Part IV is brief and loosely summarizes what happened to Mumler after the trial, and beautifully documents his most famous spirit photograph - the 1872 portrait of Mary Todd Lincoln embraced by her late husband, President Abraham Lincoln. Manseau's writing is exquisite, his research incomparable. Heavily illustrated, each chapter begins with one of the photographs he will discuss in that chapter. As for the chapters themselves, nothing is wasted. They are crisp and would work extremely well as excerpts for classroom use.
Manseau does not come down on Mumler's verdict, but rather asks the reader to consider the larger social movements that went into determining the outcome. It is also worth noting that those that were defending Mumler and his photography were barely sure of the photographic process (as it was still very experimental) and yet were asked to justify the agency of what could essentially be considered alchemy and magic. Unlike other historical accounts of this period, Manseau's reads as a discussion rather than the definitive summation of a movement. I thoroughly enjoyed reading 'The Apparitionists' and highly recommend it.
There is no doubt that the advent of photography changed the world. From an art historical standpoint, it made the necessity of realistic depictions through paint and brush, wood and chisel irrelevant. In equal turn, photography could inherently capture verisim, documenting the world with accuracy, while also serving as a form of creative expression. This is especially interesting when we consider that during the Civil War, many photographers captured posed and constructed images for public consumption. These images were artistic, grisly, and ultimately fabricated, as in the case of (attributed) Timothy O' Sullivan's 'Home of a Rebel Sharpshooter' from 1863. However, they were not condemned as being unrealistic or fraudulent by the public. These composed photographs were understood to be manipulated for artistic purposes to serve as mediations on loss and the tragedies of war for consumption by the general public. I point this out because in the case of spirit photography, the opposite is true for amateur photographer William Mumler who was tried for selling ghostly images, presumably manipulating his customers, and profiting off their grief.
Told in four concise parts, Manseau lays out an elaborate socio-cultural history of the 19th century. Part I explores the history of photography, its acceptance as artistic media, and examines those that were the earliest pioneers of its potential. Part II recounts the birth of Spiritualism and its astronomical rise in popularity. Part III is a masterwork in mining primary source material and details the trial of William Mumler and the public response. Part IV is brief and loosely summarizes what happened to Mumler after the trial, and beautifully documents his most famous spirit photograph - the 1872 portrait of Mary Todd Lincoln embraced by her late husband, President Abraham Lincoln. Manseau's writing is exquisite, his research incomparable. Heavily illustrated, each chapter begins with one of the photographs he will discuss in that chapter. As for the chapters themselves, nothing is wasted. They are crisp and would work extremely well as excerpts for classroom use.
Manseau does not come down on Mumler's verdict, but rather asks the reader to consider the larger social movements that went into determining the outcome. It is also worth noting that those that were defending Mumler and his photography were barely sure of the photographic process (as it was still very experimental) and yet were asked to justify the agency of what could essentially be considered alchemy and magic. Unlike other historical accounts of this period, Manseau's reads as a discussion rather than the definitive summation of a movement. I thoroughly enjoyed reading 'The Apparitionists' and highly recommend it.
April 25, 2022
The Apparitionists is more than simply a book about spirit photography or the Spiritualism movement in America. Rather, it is a history of Civil War era America and the invention of photography itself - how it remolded the fabric of America and the way in which we interacted with death and the dead, and the question of belief itself. How could belief be put on trial? How might one contend with someone both capitalizing off of grief and offering a balm to those in mourning? It's a complicated question.
The story of Spirit Photography, or at least that that Mumler practiced, is a story that includes figures as disparate as Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln, the then Mayor of New York City, P.T. Barnum, Mathew Brady, and Samuel Morse. It pulled people together and tore them apart, and revolutionized the process of fact-checking and what proof people demanded in order to believe stories told. It is the chief irony of ironies that the very man who may have been practicing photographic fraud was able to place upon the public a new burden of proof by manufacturing the very process that allowed newspapers to chiefly print photographs.
This was a fascinating book, although at times disorganized. It beautifully brought to life late 1800s society and how complex their beliefs were and how they grew over time. I devoured this book, and fully suspect many who pick it up will do the same.
Give it a try, see what you believe by the end.
The story of Spirit Photography, or at least that that Mumler practiced, is a story that includes figures as disparate as Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln, the then Mayor of New York City, P.T. Barnum, Mathew Brady, and Samuel Morse. It pulled people together and tore them apart, and revolutionized the process of fact-checking and what proof people demanded in order to believe stories told. It is the chief irony of ironies that the very man who may have been practicing photographic fraud was able to place upon the public a new burden of proof by manufacturing the very process that allowed newspapers to chiefly print photographs.
This was a fascinating book, although at times disorganized. It beautifully brought to life late 1800s society and how complex their beliefs were and how they grew over time. I devoured this book, and fully suspect many who pick it up will do the same.
Give it a try, see what you believe by the end.
May 12, 2018
Interesting in parts and dull in others. An extremely superficial history of the development of the daguerreotype and photography. A touch on the Civil War. A bit about Lincoln. A few cameos by P.T. Barnum. A smidge of information on the Spiritualist movement. And finally a rather dry recitation of a fraud trial related to ghost photographs. Ultimately the breadth of the topics outstretched the depth afforded, and while is was more interesting than just okay, it wasn’t nearly interesting enough (or well executed enough) to qualify as great.
January 8, 2018
Unfortunately, Mumler comes across as spectral, like his spirit apparitions. He meanders through the background of this disjointed book which is truly about the better known pioneering photographers of the northeastern U.S. and their competitiveness. Interesting, but very thin regarding the supposed main subject.
November 9, 2017
Intensely researched and in good, piecemeal sections. I blanked out during some passages because I was thrown off by the organization—felt that at times the story jumped back and forth in time. Still interesting, tho, if you’re into culty wack historical stuff (or photography).
July 7, 2018
Spirit selfies and daguerreotypes of the deceased
There was a time, and not that long ago, when taking a picture was an ordeal. One of the earliest forms of photography, the daguerreotype, required inordinate patience from the subjects — who had to sit still for long minutes or risk blurring the image into uselessness — and inordinate prowess from the photographer, who had to undertake a near alchemical process to fix images onto glass plates.
It was worth it, though, because the revolutionary new medium — even though some worried it might be stealing bits of the soul — changed the way we look at the world, each other and ourselves. It allowed images of loved ones to last indefinitely, creating a sliver of immortality in a world of uncertain futures, and allowed a shared sense of place to connect viewers to events long passed and places far distant. The photograph was almost as revolutionary as the telegraph, which transmitted disembodied voices over great distances — and the author, Peer Manseau, crashes the two technologies together in an unexpected common ground — Spiritualism.
The birth of photography coincided with the Civil War and an increasing interest in Spiritualism — the certainty that the spirit world exists and that we can communicate with this ghostly realm. Spikes in spiritualist beliefs tend to follow close on the heels of catastrophic loss of life (such as during WWI), when more people have reason to hope they can contact their newly departed loved ones. The Civil War certainly sent a lot of people to the other side and left many bereft and hopeful of proof of an afterlife, and thus coincided with and contributed to a growing interest in Spiritualism.
Manseau covers a lot of territory in this book, weaving several story lines together to cover the political, technological and spiritual landscape, and gives only a quick nod to the biggest Spiritualist names of the day, such the table-rapping Fox sisters. The focus of the book, instead, is on the trial — and everything leading up to it — of William Mumler, a portrait photographer who produced a vast number of “spirit” photographs in his studio (in Boston and later, New York). People would come to sit for a portrait and when the picture was developed, it often revealed a spirit presence, usually someone with an uncanny resemblance to a departed loved one, standing spookily behind them. And that includes Mary Todd Lincoln.
The photos proved a balm to the emotionally weary, a financial boon to Mumler and his spirit-healing wife, a vindication to the Spiritualists of the day and a source of vexation to the authorities and god-fearing citizens who saw spiritualism as an eroding influence on the bible and the subsequent laws it supported.
Even though many people tried, none could work out how Mumler was able to manipulate the photos and perpetrate such a massive deception — if it indeed WAS a deception. Mumler was charged with fraud and his trial, featuring a cast of characters that included legendary huckster PT Barnum, received coverage in the press around the world.
The trial was handled adroitly, but was ultimately a little underwhelming. I’ve always loved the Spiritualist vibe — the séances and ectoplasm and table rapping and automatic writing, etc. — and this book didn’t really bring that to life with much enthusiasm.
That might be due to the author spending such time carefully tracing the rise of photography — and the earliest photographers — which was interesting, but almost a separate book from spiritualism. He clearly has deep knowledge on the subject, charting the birth of this new art form as photographers were learning the tricks of the trade that would come to define photography — perspective and composition — and actual tricks, like moving the bodies of dead soldiers to more photographic locations, and adding props, to make more memorable shots.
Just understanding the process of capturing a photo was truly eye-opening, involving:
* Cleaning a fresh plate with a calcium carbonate mixture known as rottenstone, then wiping away its chalky residue with a cloth
* Bathing the glass in a succession of chemicals: first a blend of grain alcohol, cadmium, ammonium, potassium, and ether, which allowed an image to adhere; then silver nitrate, the vehicle for the necessary chemical reaction that darkened by degrees when exposed to light.
* Then protecting the plate from the sun until the crucial moment of exposure.
* Then treatments to develop the image (ferrous sulfate, potassium nitrate, acetic acid).
* Then fixing the image it to prevent fading (potassium cyanide).
* Finally, heating the plate over an open flame and coating it with a highly flammable varnish brewed from grain alcohol, lavender oil, and sandarac, the resin of a cypress tree.
And that’s for just ONE picture.
We’ve come a long way from that to a duck-face selfie every 5 seconds. No wonder spirits don't bother showing up in our photos any more.
I personally would have liked a bit more time on the philosophy and frauds of the Spiritualists, and bit less on photography, but it was still a highly enjoyable book and one I recommend.
There was a time, and not that long ago, when taking a picture was an ordeal. One of the earliest forms of photography, the daguerreotype, required inordinate patience from the subjects — who had to sit still for long minutes or risk blurring the image into uselessness — and inordinate prowess from the photographer, who had to undertake a near alchemical process to fix images onto glass plates.
It was worth it, though, because the revolutionary new medium — even though some worried it might be stealing bits of the soul — changed the way we look at the world, each other and ourselves. It allowed images of loved ones to last indefinitely, creating a sliver of immortality in a world of uncertain futures, and allowed a shared sense of place to connect viewers to events long passed and places far distant. The photograph was almost as revolutionary as the telegraph, which transmitted disembodied voices over great distances — and the author, Peer Manseau, crashes the two technologies together in an unexpected common ground — Spiritualism.
The birth of photography coincided with the Civil War and an increasing interest in Spiritualism — the certainty that the spirit world exists and that we can communicate with this ghostly realm. Spikes in spiritualist beliefs tend to follow close on the heels of catastrophic loss of life (such as during WWI), when more people have reason to hope they can contact their newly departed loved ones. The Civil War certainly sent a lot of people to the other side and left many bereft and hopeful of proof of an afterlife, and thus coincided with and contributed to a growing interest in Spiritualism.
Manseau covers a lot of territory in this book, weaving several story lines together to cover the political, technological and spiritual landscape, and gives only a quick nod to the biggest Spiritualist names of the day, such the table-rapping Fox sisters. The focus of the book, instead, is on the trial — and everything leading up to it — of William Mumler, a portrait photographer who produced a vast number of “spirit” photographs in his studio (in Boston and later, New York). People would come to sit for a portrait and when the picture was developed, it often revealed a spirit presence, usually someone with an uncanny resemblance to a departed loved one, standing spookily behind them. And that includes Mary Todd Lincoln.
The photos proved a balm to the emotionally weary, a financial boon to Mumler and his spirit-healing wife, a vindication to the Spiritualists of the day and a source of vexation to the authorities and god-fearing citizens who saw spiritualism as an eroding influence on the bible and the subsequent laws it supported.
Even though many people tried, none could work out how Mumler was able to manipulate the photos and perpetrate such a massive deception — if it indeed WAS a deception. Mumler was charged with fraud and his trial, featuring a cast of characters that included legendary huckster PT Barnum, received coverage in the press around the world.
The trial was handled adroitly, but was ultimately a little underwhelming. I’ve always loved the Spiritualist vibe — the séances and ectoplasm and table rapping and automatic writing, etc. — and this book didn’t really bring that to life with much enthusiasm.
That might be due to the author spending such time carefully tracing the rise of photography — and the earliest photographers — which was interesting, but almost a separate book from spiritualism. He clearly has deep knowledge on the subject, charting the birth of this new art form as photographers were learning the tricks of the trade that would come to define photography — perspective and composition — and actual tricks, like moving the bodies of dead soldiers to more photographic locations, and adding props, to make more memorable shots.
Just understanding the process of capturing a photo was truly eye-opening, involving:
* Cleaning a fresh plate with a calcium carbonate mixture known as rottenstone, then wiping away its chalky residue with a cloth
* Bathing the glass in a succession of chemicals: first a blend of grain alcohol, cadmium, ammonium, potassium, and ether, which allowed an image to adhere; then silver nitrate, the vehicle for the necessary chemical reaction that darkened by degrees when exposed to light.
* Then protecting the plate from the sun until the crucial moment of exposure.
* Then treatments to develop the image (ferrous sulfate, potassium nitrate, acetic acid).
* Then fixing the image it to prevent fading (potassium cyanide).
* Finally, heating the plate over an open flame and coating it with a highly flammable varnish brewed from grain alcohol, lavender oil, and sandarac, the resin of a cypress tree.
And that’s for just ONE picture.
We’ve come a long way from that to a duck-face selfie every 5 seconds. No wonder spirits don't bother showing up in our photos any more.
I personally would have liked a bit more time on the philosophy and frauds of the Spiritualists, and bit less on photography, but it was still a highly enjoyable book and one I recommend.
April 22, 2018
I’m interested in Mary Todd Lincoln, particularly how she was blamed, hated and abused. After Lincoln died she waited a year to get money owed to her by the U.S. government. Her enemies were vengeful and cruel. She lost several sons and a husband. People actually accused her of being melancholy and of spending money to make herself feel less pain.
I came to this book wanting to know more how she was grieving for her husband and how this grief was exploited by a photographer who convinced her the image of Lincoln behind her in a photograph was actually Abraham Lincoln’s spirit contacting her from the beyond. This book is certainly not written to answer my questions.
Spiritualists latched on to the emerging technology of photography of the late 1860s and 1870s to prove the world was inhabited by apparitions, newly freed souls with unfinished business. Spiritualists do not believe in faith, rather spiritualists believe their ideas are certainly true. Photography provided evidence for this claim. Looking at a photograph of a grieving Mary Todd Lincoln being embraced by an unclear yet discernible image of Abraham Lincoln, how could anyone doubt the existence of souls surviving the death of the body.
This book attempts to shed light on how spiritualists and exploitive photographers created and sold an ideology of the interaction of phantoms and people. The author does this by focusing on the trial of one photographer accused of not fulfilling a contract to supply a customer with proof that the customer ‘s recently dead relative’s spirit was photographed with the person.
For me, the most interesting question raised by such an inquiry was peripheral to the author. The interesting question for me is, “How is faith related to certainty?” For me faith begins with doubt and is not confirmed by evidence. For example, loss consumed Mary Todd Lincoln. Would a picture of Abraham Lincoln’s spirit in a comforting pose help her make sense of her grief? I don’t think so. Even if her husband’s “real” spirit actually appeared in an undoctored photograph this wouldn’t help Mary Todd with her personal struggles of dealing with such loss. The question is more complicated than a photograph providing some simple answer. In a broader sense, I’m disturbed by the exploitation of people like Mary Todd Lincoln for money.
I came to this book wanting to know more how she was grieving for her husband and how this grief was exploited by a photographer who convinced her the image of Lincoln behind her in a photograph was actually Abraham Lincoln’s spirit contacting her from the beyond. This book is certainly not written to answer my questions.
Spiritualists latched on to the emerging technology of photography of the late 1860s and 1870s to prove the world was inhabited by apparitions, newly freed souls with unfinished business. Spiritualists do not believe in faith, rather spiritualists believe their ideas are certainly true. Photography provided evidence for this claim. Looking at a photograph of a grieving Mary Todd Lincoln being embraced by an unclear yet discernible image of Abraham Lincoln, how could anyone doubt the existence of souls surviving the death of the body.
This book attempts to shed light on how spiritualists and exploitive photographers created and sold an ideology of the interaction of phantoms and people. The author does this by focusing on the trial of one photographer accused of not fulfilling a contract to supply a customer with proof that the customer ‘s recently dead relative’s spirit was photographed with the person.
For me, the most interesting question raised by such an inquiry was peripheral to the author. The interesting question for me is, “How is faith related to certainty?” For me faith begins with doubt and is not confirmed by evidence. For example, loss consumed Mary Todd Lincoln. Would a picture of Abraham Lincoln’s spirit in a comforting pose help her make sense of her grief? I don’t think so. Even if her husband’s “real” spirit actually appeared in an undoctored photograph this wouldn’t help Mary Todd with her personal struggles of dealing with such loss. The question is more complicated than a photograph providing some simple answer. In a broader sense, I’m disturbed by the exploitation of people like Mary Todd Lincoln for money.
September 21, 2021
As the daughter of a photographer, I come by my interest in the medium honestly. I can hardly picture my father without his camera in hand, whether it’s his trusty Nikon DSLR now or his Minolta SRT-101 in which he had loaded slide film that he used throughout my childhood. I’ve always been interested in the earliest days of photography as well; I pored over Daguerre’s image taken in 1838 of the busy Boulevard du Temple, knowing that Daguerre saw a busy, bustling street, but only the bootblack and his customer in the foreground had stayed still long enough to be captured.
While I found this book interesting in the photos printed at the start of each chapter, and the discussions of the arduous process of taking a daguerreotype, as well as the issue of the collective mourning that the Civil War plunged America into, I came away wanting more. The material itself seems to be all over the place without a cohesive purpose. It was also frustrating that Manseau left the reader wondering how Mumler was able to create these spirit photographs, since had they been real, every photographer worth his salt would have been able to also produce such photos, considering the demand for them. Casual googling while reading this book led me to believe that Mumler had left in another plate before adding the fresh, clean plate for each sitting, which would account for the fact that living people’s likenesses showed up as “spirits” a few years later.
This is a fascinating subject, but I finished the book feeling unfulfilled on the subject matter, not a good thing for a nonfiction book. While I was surprised to learn that most of the photos attributed to Mathew Brady from the battlefields of the Civil War were actually taken by his assistants, I feel that Mumler, like his spirit apparitions, floated through this book tenuously. It was difficult to pin down who he was as a person, odd considering he was to be the focus of this book.
Though the book kept me turning pages, I’m not sure I can recommend this particular book without reservations.
While I found this book interesting in the photos printed at the start of each chapter, and the discussions of the arduous process of taking a daguerreotype, as well as the issue of the collective mourning that the Civil War plunged America into, I came away wanting more. The material itself seems to be all over the place without a cohesive purpose. It was also frustrating that Manseau left the reader wondering how Mumler was able to create these spirit photographs, since had they been real, every photographer worth his salt would have been able to also produce such photos, considering the demand for them. Casual googling while reading this book led me to believe that Mumler had left in another plate before adding the fresh, clean plate for each sitting, which would account for the fact that living people’s likenesses showed up as “spirits” a few years later.
This is a fascinating subject, but I finished the book feeling unfulfilled on the subject matter, not a good thing for a nonfiction book. While I was surprised to learn that most of the photos attributed to Mathew Brady from the battlefields of the Civil War were actually taken by his assistants, I feel that Mumler, like his spirit apparitions, floated through this book tenuously. It was difficult to pin down who he was as a person, odd considering he was to be the focus of this book.
Though the book kept me turning pages, I’m not sure I can recommend this particular book without reservations.
June 3, 2020
Manseau's historical account of the nineteenth-century phenomenon that was spiritual photography delights. Set amidst the Civil War, the Apparitionists captures the Spiritualism movement and the increasing need to connect with loved ones lost. But above all else, this book is primarily about the technology of photography–its function, implementation, and reception, as well as the various techniques to capture a fleeting moment in nineteenth-century America.
One of the more intriguing aspects of this narrative is the array of well-known historical figures–Lincoln, P.T. Barnum, Morse (yes, the same celebrated figure who was also a painter and photographer)–and also lesser-known individuals like William Mumler. Mumler is the central photographer the reader follows and through his trial for fraud, we discover that Mumler's spiritual photography was actually the first known use of photo-electrotype.
This book was incredibly informative. I had always wondered why people wanted to photograph the dead (outside of sentimental reasons) and discovered that the dead made perfect subjects. They did not move. And the process of portrait photography required the subject to be absolutely still for long periods of time. Another fascinating detail was the intersection between photography and phrenology (the use of head measurements to determine criminality and mental illness).
Despite the compelling subject, the narrative was dry and boring at times. The book opens with a trial but we hear nothing of the trial proceedings until 200 pages in! Mumler, the main subject of the book, pops in and out of the narrative, and with a host of characters, I had trouble keeping track of Mumler and his movements. There are simply too many side narratives. They were interesting at first but became tedious halfway through the book. Still, Manseau's subject encouraged me to pick up a book about the Civil War era, an impressive feat!
One of the more intriguing aspects of this narrative is the array of well-known historical figures–Lincoln, P.T. Barnum, Morse (yes, the same celebrated figure who was also a painter and photographer)–and also lesser-known individuals like William Mumler. Mumler is the central photographer the reader follows and through his trial for fraud, we discover that Mumler's spiritual photography was actually the first known use of photo-electrotype.
This book was incredibly informative. I had always wondered why people wanted to photograph the dead (outside of sentimental reasons) and discovered that the dead made perfect subjects. They did not move. And the process of portrait photography required the subject to be absolutely still for long periods of time. Another fascinating detail was the intersection between photography and phrenology (the use of head measurements to determine criminality and mental illness).
Despite the compelling subject, the narrative was dry and boring at times. The book opens with a trial but we hear nothing of the trial proceedings until 200 pages in! Mumler, the main subject of the book, pops in and out of the narrative, and with a host of characters, I had trouble keeping track of Mumler and his movements. There are simply too many side narratives. They were interesting at first but became tedious halfway through the book. Still, Manseau's subject encouraged me to pick up a book about the Civil War era, an impressive feat!
November 4, 2020
The Apparitionists is a work of nonfiction, a sort of social history narrative. The book, I'm sure, appeals to most of its readers as a book discussing the possibility of spirits and the early examples of ghostly evidence. Many readers, going on that assumption, may sadly find themselves disappointed.
The main event which ties the whole thing together is that which both opens and closes the book - the trial of photographer William Mumler, where he stood accused of defrauding and swindling the American public with his "spirit photography", in which he took photos of real people and vague shadowy spirit forms mysteriously appeared behind them.
But the main event, and even the backstory of how Mumler found himself in this predicament, take up only a relatively small number of pages. Chapters on Samuel Morse and his telegraph, the Spiritualist movement as a whole, the history of photography, the Civil War, and even PT Barnum's American Museum fill out the bulk of the book, all connected, however loosely, to Mumler and his haunted photographs.
That Mumler was somehow causing the images of the "spirits" in his photographs seems obvious, and in the course of reading, I found myself guessing at and wondering just exactly how he did it. That is a mystery which the author does not present a solution for, as apparently no one ever quite figured out the secret trick that Mumler used.
I am a fan of all history, especially as it relates to anything strange, unusual, or mysterious. The extra bits added here to Mumler's story, though admittedly often too long and including details unnecessary to this tale, were still interesting to me.
An interesting bit of history and mystery, though perhaps with a slightly misleading subtitle.
The main event which ties the whole thing together is that which both opens and closes the book - the trial of photographer William Mumler, where he stood accused of defrauding and swindling the American public with his "spirit photography", in which he took photos of real people and vague shadowy spirit forms mysteriously appeared behind them.
But the main event, and even the backstory of how Mumler found himself in this predicament, take up only a relatively small number of pages. Chapters on Samuel Morse and his telegraph, the Spiritualist movement as a whole, the history of photography, the Civil War, and even PT Barnum's American Museum fill out the bulk of the book, all connected, however loosely, to Mumler and his haunted photographs.
That Mumler was somehow causing the images of the "spirits" in his photographs seems obvious, and in the course of reading, I found myself guessing at and wondering just exactly how he did it. That is a mystery which the author does not present a solution for, as apparently no one ever quite figured out the secret trick that Mumler used.
I am a fan of all history, especially as it relates to anything strange, unusual, or mysterious. The extra bits added here to Mumler's story, though admittedly often too long and including details unnecessary to this tale, were still interesting to me.
An interesting bit of history and mystery, though perhaps with a slightly misleading subtitle.
January 24, 2022
The story of William Mumler's brisk business in pictures of the departed has been told before but not in the detail presented here. Manseau's account of the life and trial of the man who popularized spirit photography includes side trips into the life and work of Samuel Morse, Matthew Brady, P.T. Barnum and other, lesser known luminaries of the mid-19th Century. The frame is sometimes more detailed than the subject but the digressions are interesting in themselves, since what's at the heart of the story is the expanding sense of possibility in an age of technological discoveries that redefined this world and -- to some minds -- the one that lies beyond it. The author mostly maintains a polite distance from the blatant fraud and victimization of the bereaved implicit in commercial spiritualism, preferring to focus on the comforts provided and the overall story of the birth pangs of "modernity" and, overall, on the telling of a very fine tale.
The brief portion of the tale that discusses spiritualism in the Civil War, including a fear among Northern believers that Confederate spiritualists were using their powers for the war effort, seems like a good start to another fascinating volume.
The brief portion of the tale that discusses spiritualism in the Civil War, including a fear among Northern believers that Confederate spiritualists were using their powers for the war effort, seems like a good start to another fascinating volume.
June 15, 2018
Recommended to me by Krissy after reading "Mr. Splitfoot" by Samantha Hunt at book club, which is a fiction novel inspired by spiritualism in New York, and particularly the lives of the Fox sisters, in the late 19th century.
The Apparitionists is a very interesting and readable look at the American cultural milieu after the Civil War, when American families lost a huge number of their men to the fighting. Embalming was popularized during this time period just to get dead people back home and buried, and society as a whole was dealing with huge amounts of grief and loss. With the end of the Civil War came the rising popularity of the spiritualism movement - believers contacted the ghosts of the dead through mediums, spirit rapping or knocking, and also through the nascent art of spirit photography. The Apparitionists follows the life of one particular spirit photographer, William Mumler, in order to explore how American society thought about and processed death and grief during this time period, and also how photography developed from being a form of art into a form of truthful documentary. There are sidelines into P. T. Barnum, the function and nature of fraud versus belief, and the histories of many famous Civil War era photographers and personalities.
I learned a lot about spiritualism, the history of photography, and the Civil War era, though I will admit I sometimes got various persons confused with one another. There were plenty of photos, but I would have loved even more.
The Apparitionists is a very interesting and readable look at the American cultural milieu after the Civil War, when American families lost a huge number of their men to the fighting. Embalming was popularized during this time period just to get dead people back home and buried, and society as a whole was dealing with huge amounts of grief and loss. With the end of the Civil War came the rising popularity of the spiritualism movement - believers contacted the ghosts of the dead through mediums, spirit rapping or knocking, and also through the nascent art of spirit photography. The Apparitionists follows the life of one particular spirit photographer, William Mumler, in order to explore how American society thought about and processed death and grief during this time period, and also how photography developed from being a form of art into a form of truthful documentary. There are sidelines into P. T. Barnum, the function and nature of fraud versus belief, and the histories of many famous Civil War era photographers and personalities.
I learned a lot about spiritualism, the history of photography, and the Civil War era, though I will admit I sometimes got various persons confused with one another. There were plenty of photos, but I would have loved even more.
March 18, 2018
Peter Manseau’s The Apparitionists: A Tale of Phantoms, Fraud, Photography, and the Man Who Captured Lincoln’s Ghost was an interesting look at the history of early photography, Spiritualism, and the cross section the paranormal and science during the Civil War era. As a history nerd, and someone who’s read quite a bit about Christianity in the US it was a fascinating look at changes in American religious thought. Moreover, the main person we follow is William Mumler who claimed to be able to photograph spirits, for just $10 a print! He was charged with fraud but acquitted because the prosecution could not prove that Mumler knowingly defrauded his customers. This nonfiction book was very readable with small chapters and lots of photographs! I would definitely recommend it to anyone interested in the topic!
August 28, 2019
This was a present from my nephew as I lay in the hospital recovering from broken metatarsals and a sore neck after the extraction of my thyroid and lymphs nodes that were removed because they were cancerous. It kept me interested which is a high compliment as I had so many other things to think about. It was a tad disjointed as the book covered a lot of territory. As a photographer myself I enjoyed the section on the early days of photography and how it moved from Daguerreotypes to the type of cameras we know now. A large part of the book discusses "Spirit Photographs" which gained popularity during the rise of Spiritualism which gained believers around the time of the Civil War. Spirit Photographs sh0wed the sitters photograph as well as a ghostly image of someone close to the sitter. Were these photographers being fraudulent or were they being honest with their buyers. The answer depends on how the observer felt about Spiritualism. Even though Manseau jumped around these topics, he was interesting and his book is well-researched. I recommend this book to all who are interested in the early days of photography as well as American cultural history.
April 25, 2020
A wonderful history of the time just before, during and just after the Civil War. We follow the life of William Mumler as he becomes known for taking photographs that also show spirits posing with the living. This lead to Mumler's arrest of fraud and a trial followed around the globe.
Peter Manseau does a magnificent job of bring the people from this era to life. Matthew Brady, Samuel Morse and even P.T. Barnum are part of the story.
Peter Manseau does a magnificent job of bring the people from this era to life. Matthew Brady, Samuel Morse and even P.T. Barnum are part of the story.
January 22, 2021
I wish I’d read this before reading Shadows in Summerland—I certainly would have enjoyed the novel more! The actual account of the people involved in spirit photography is great, with lots of entertaining asides into mid-1800s photography in the US.
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