It is amazing to think about how much our world has progressed in the last century. Things we take for granted nowadays were novelties or preliminary ideas in the beginning decades of the 1900s, particularly in the realm of science, chemicals and elements that were considered cryptic or inexplicable were more thoroughly experimented on.

One of the more famous examples is Marie Curie and her work with radium during an era where radioactive substances were believed to be healthy rather than hazardous. This is just one point explored in Deborah Blum's tale of the birth of forensic science, a narrative weaving historical accounts of murder, scientific analysis and a pair of determined toxicologists who shined a light on the enigma of poisons.

This sometimes gruesome, sometimes disturbing and even sometimes humorous compilation of toxic tales is appropriately titled "The Poisoner's Handbook."

Blum's book is an in-depth look into early 20th century America, covering the battle of Prohibition, the evolution of medical practices and the industrial — and criminal — uses for a wide variety of poisons, most
of which no one understood had lethal side effects.

Because forensic science was still in its early stages as a viable source of evidence in police investigations, poison was common in homicides, suicides and even accidents involving every day household products. It was not until Charles Norris and Alexander Gettler were appointed chief medical examiner and head toxicologist, respectively, in New York City's medical examination office that forensics changed the world of the "poison game."

Digging ever deeper to understand the chemical nature of poisons and how they truly affect the human body, Norris and Gettler helped revolutionize how to solve murders, inform the public on the dangers of residentially used toxins and set new standards of safety for the industry and consumers.

The author maintains a good balance of stringing together her research, tying in textbook-style information with stories of betrayal, love affairs, desperation and greed, the kind of drama that one would read about in any crime fiction.

These include tales of an orderly from an old folks' home who was instructed by the owner to "remove" the sickliest residents by way of chloroform; a group of factory workers who lost their hair and teeth from the radium paint they applied to watches; and even the more amusing story of "Mike the Durable," a drunkard whose bar friends were trying to bump him off for an insurance scam, only for every attempt (from alcohol poisoning to food poisoning to being run over by a car) to fail and Mike to always return for yet another drink.

"The Poisoner's Handbook" focuses mainly around Norris and Gettler and their work. While the reader is given brief snippets of their backgrounds, I wish that there had been more about the relationship these two men had working together.

While the reader is given brief snippets of their backgrounds, I wanted to be able to identify with the two men as more than just scientists but also as human beings.

I recommend "The Poisoner's Handbook" to those who enjoy solidly researched anecdotes of American history, or anyone who likes crime stories and might wonder where the inspiration for some of them comes from.

Just don't let anyone catch you reading it while you're preparing Thanksgiving dinner - they might get the wrong impression.

Alison Reeger Cook is a Gainesville resident whose Off the Shelves book review appears every other week in Sunday Life. Know of a good book to review? E-mail her to tell her about it.