This is a fascinating and an infuriating book. First of all, the author doesn’t know how to tell and weave a story. But she documents thoroughly so at least you know when she is conjecturing herself and when she has evidence to back something up.

Second of all, the author is a total product of modern times, unable to imagine what life for Martha might have been like. I say this because the author states that Martha’s knowing what the various internal organs of a human were at an autopsy was evidence of her medical knowledge when any idiot who has ever killed a chicken for Sunday dinner knows what all the internal organs are, and when they don’t look right.

Second and a half, that is, a continuation of above, the author feels the need to insert her opinion that Martha strongly values her “career” but the author never feels the need to conjecture that Martha loves her family, or values her garden.

But despite the author’s shortcomings, the story and its insights into life and culture are compelling.