From Booklist
Compendiums of eccentricity are often top-heavy lurid-to-loony tales of the rich and nutty, but not Shaw's diverse and democratic addition to the ever-popular study of odd behavior. Shaw doesn't even include Bavaria's King Ludwig, of fantastic castle fame, and others "because they were . . . certifiably insane." His book "is not about madmen," he says, but "eccentrics," defined as those "unaware of how out of step . . . their behaviour is." Thus Shaw omits Salvador Dali, among other intentional eccentrics. Fortunately, he is left with enough oddballs to fill 400-plus pages. Consider the potentate who, inspired by "America's exciting new means of executing criminals," purchased an electric chair, though his country lacked electrical service. And England's King George I, who, upon first meeting a prospective daughter-in-law, lifted her skirts to verify her virginity. Besides daft royals, Shaw devotes chapters to "Religious Eccentrics," "Political Eccentrics," "Eccentric Builders," and 12 more kinds of wacko. Shaw's eminently browsable book has a little something for everyone, except those who simply cannot appreciate the bizarre.
Mike Tribby
Product Description
Howard Hughes, Liberace, Imelda Marcos, Sarah Bernhardt, Ed Wood, Jr., Ludwig von Beethoven -- they're all here, along with an astonishing assortment of other oddballs, kooks, dreamers, despots, prophets, performers, royals, politicians, inventors, philosophers, writers, artists, and more garden-variety eccentrics. Here, too, are the phobias, compulsions, odd beliefs, and weird habits that have placed them in the ranks of the bizarre, curious, and strange. You will discover, for instance, that Elvis Presley was convinced he could turn Graceland's sprinkler system on and off by the sheer power of concentration, that Salvador Dali ate vast quantities of Camembert cheese before bedtime to make his dreams more vivid, that Florence Nightingale carried a miniature pet owl in her pocket, while Kaiser Wilhelm II always carried with him photos of his deceased relatives in their funeral attire. You will learn, too, that the Victorian judge Lord Monboddo spent his entire life convinced that babies were born with tails (which midwives cut off), and that John Harvey Kellogg of cereal fame spent his wedding night writing an essay on the evils of sexual intercourse. Throughout the pages of this mammoth book you'll find impulses, whims, obsessions, and hangups as skewed as the schemes of Francisco Lopez, the Paraguay president who attempted to rout the Brazilian army with a battalion of small boys wearing false beards. You'll find cases galore that are screwier, too.