100 Books Like Isle of Rum

Originally published with Broadway Books in 2006, it was revised and updated for publication with Penguin Random House in 2018. Curtis is a talented writer and storyteller, and I found his book fun to read. He creatively uses different rum-based cocktails to tell entertaining stories of America histories.

He addresses New England rum making, colonial taverns, the American Revolution, America’s nineteenth-century struggle with Demon Rum, American Prohibition, Ernest Hemingway, the emergence of tiki culture, temperance movements, the Spanish-American War, pirates and drunken sailors, and other popular topics. Curtis also introduces the reader to popular rum-based cocktail recipes.

What made this book so interesting was Nesbitt’s investigation into the way rum has been used as a literary device. References to rum in novels, short stories, music, and other forms of popular culture allow Nesbitt to expose the way rum has shaped historical constructs of colonialism, racism, and patriarchy in the Caribbean.

For example, Nesbitt juxtaposes characters from Hunter S. Thompson’s The Rum Diaries (1998) with characters in V.S. Naipaul’s Miguel Street (1959) to expose the way sexism and masculine drinking practices reinforce colonialist and imperialist tropes of the Caribbean as a dangerous place stuck in an unchanging cycle of alcoholic malaise. In Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea (1966), references to rum reveal insights into colonial expectations of feminine respectability.

As a literary device, rum makes the Caribbean exotic, which has been used to demonize and eroticize Caribbean peoples. Rum was born in the coercive and dangerous environment of… show more.

I found this book interesting for its medical and psychological focus. While studies of the negative consequences of excessive drinking in the early United States have focused primarily on the societal impact of drunkenness, Osborn explores the medicalization and epidemiological debates surrounding the treatment for intemperance in the early American Republic.

Drawing primarily on the writings of early Philadelphia physicians, Osborn explores the challenges of defining and treating alcoholics and highlights the debilitating ailments that those receiving treatment faced, including hallucinations and delirium tremens. The writings of physicians, such as the renowned Philadelphia physician and temperance advocate Benjamin Rush, offer a unique medical perspective on the history of alcohol abuse and treatment. Osborn also explores how the discourse on intemperance was tied to broader cultural concerns about the strength and character of the new American Republic.

Mancall’s background as an economic historian of the Atlantic world provides an interesting take on early interactions between European colonists and Native Americans in the early New World colonies. As an anthropologist, I am always pleased to see historians, especially economic historians, integrate ethnographic evidence and anthropological literature into their research.

In this book, Mancall explores the way rum and other alcoholic beverages connected Native peoples in North America to broader Atlantic markets. Moreover, Mancall highlights the way rum connected the plight of enslaved peoples in the Caribbean to the plight of Native peoples in colonial North America.

Patrick McGovern is an archeologist on a mission to discover ancient tipples. In Uncorking the Past he recounts several of his most significant finds, including the world’s oldest-known manmade alcoholic beverage at Jiahu, a nine-thousand-year-old site near the Yellow River in north-central China. The story of its discovery—and recreation with Dogfish Head Brewery—is fascinating, but the explanation of the role of alcohol in neolithic Chinese life makes it required reading.

The first book I read by British novelist Kingsley Amis was Lucky Jim, one of the greatest satires on academic life ever written (I do not, however, recommend reading it when you are applying for a teaching position as I foolishly did, since it will mess, mess, mess with your head). Amis enjoyed the drink far more than he should have, earning him the reputation, as he put it, “of being one of the great drinkers, if not one of the great drunks, of our time.” His extensive familiarity with the bottom of a glass bore at least one good fruit. Everyday Drinking is a painfully witty, laugh-out-loud collection of essays and even quizzes on different kinds of alcohol from around the world. 

With clear and engaging prose, Gaytan reveals the power dynamics that shaped tequila’s trajectory in Mexico and abroad.

She traces tequila’s meteoric rise past other agave-derived drinks like pulque and mezcal. I really appreciate how she approaches her study as a sociologist but does not eschew history in her analysis. Although ancient Mayas were among the first to produce and consume tequila, its association with modernity can be attributed, in part, to modern marketers disassociating tequila from indigenous inebriation.

Even as she firmly grounds tequila in lo Mexicano or being Mexican, Gaytan also explores tequila’s influence and popularity in the United States. Her book reminded me how different my experience of drinking tequila in the United States has been from my enjoyment of tequila in cantinas in Mexico. 

People have been making and drinking alcoholic beverages for as long as the technology has been around that allows them to do so – some 8,000 years, as it turns out. In this glorious gallop through the long and varied history – or, rather, multifarious histories – of beer, wine, and spirits around the world, packed with odd facts that will make you a champ at any booze trivia quiz, Iain Gately entertainingly shows how tightly intertwined the various forms of alcoholic beverages have been over the centuries with the societies that produce them, and how our western love/hate relationship with the demon alcohol has evolved.

Proof is a fascinating read about the science of booze. If you think that sounds a little dull and academic, it isn't. I bought it at the recommendation of a writer friend, Reid Mitenbuler (author of Bourbon Empire), and was so glad I did.

It delves into the science of creating alcohol, but in a way that the general reader can enjoy: a fungus called yeast eats up sugar and poops out ethanol, in layman's terms. But it goes way beyond that into what makes us want and enjoy a drink, what's happening in our brains and our bodies, and, yes, the science of hangovers.

I had the distinct pleasure of visiting Tony Conigliaro’s Drink Factory laboratory in London where I found a mad scientist’s lair filled with complex, technical equipment, dry erase boards covered in formulas, and shelves of esoteric, bottled ingredients. While The Cocktail Lab finds a logical home in the era of molecular mixology, it is far more than that, showcasing its author as part chemist, part bartender, and part magician. First and foremost, the book captures what Conigliaro calls his “love affair with liquids”. The book’s cocktails – many of which I have tasted – are sensory experiences that capture not only flavors, but aromas, textures, and even memories. While modernizing many classic recipes, Conigliaro simultaneously pushes the definition of what a cocktail is and can be. For me, The Cocktail Lab celebrates the ever-evolving possibilities of liquid pleasure in the modern world and how a cocktail can be a transformative… show more.