I knew this would be great, but I didn't know how great. I wonder at what Davenport thought when he read these words of Jack London about the catastrophe: "I'll never write a word about it. What use trying? One could only string big words together, and curse the futility of them." If ever there was a sentence to give an author pause! Of course, both men pressed on, and wrote, thanks be to them both.

Just as he did in his first book, Davenport masterfully weaves in the words of those who were there, pulling them from diaries and letters and telegrams and even court transcripts, which creates a historical narrative that is gripping, and at once expansive in its scope and individual in its lens. It is fascinating to see some of the great men of this historic time - first among them then Navy Lt. Frederick Freeman - whose wisdom and courage far outstripped their age or rank alongside the malevolent actors who posed as servant leaders, but priotized graft above all else - here's looking at you, Abe Ruef and Mayor Eugene Schmitz.

I appreciated the straightforward way the inequities of race, class, nationality, and immigration status were foregrounded. The way the combination of those factors combined to place Chinese San Franciscans (then and now!) on the land least fit for surviving the quake and fires, in structures likewise least fit, is a stark indictment of racist power structures. I'm grateful this part of the story was told so beautifully in the words of the Chinese newspapermen and others preserved in the text.

As a California native, I've heard about this earthquake and fire my whole life. My family has pieces of furniture that are said to have survived the fire, and 1906 is, of course, forever a before and after demarcating this incarnation of the city by the bay. Despite the fact that this book tells of tremendous tragedy, some of which was entirely presentable, it is ultimately a love letter to the people that make and re-make San Francisco anew while remembering her past.