The Dangerous Book of Heroes »

Despite finding time to write historical novels and The Dangerous Book for Boys, Conn Iggulden is in some ways better known as a trainer of Tollins. His Tollin troupe, "Small and Mighty," are famous in Tasmania, where they often play to packed houses. "It used to be just a hobby," he says, "but when you’ve seen a display of Tollin synchronized flying, you realize it’s your life’s work. Also, they can be transported in shoe boxes, so it’s pretty cheap to get around."

Discover stories of heroism and adventure in this next installment of the blockbuster series Dangerous Book for Boys

Brothers Conn and David Iggulden present their big book of heroes: the men and women who have shaped our lives and inspired generations. This treasure chest of saints, rogues, and champions of causes great and small is filled with names you will surely recognize, such as George Washington and Martin Luther King Jr. and Sir Henry Morgan and Edith Cavell, whose roles in history are no less significant or exciting. From Helen Keller and Scott of the Antarctic to Sitting Bull and the passengers of Flight 93, this dangerous book is dedicated to those who dove headfirst into battle, those who made amazing discoveries, and those who moved boundaries in their lifetimes.

Publishers Weekly

In this off-key collection of biographical sketches, the authors of the bestselling Dangerous Book for Boys series stumble over the limitations of retro puerility as a worldview. A few Americans, like George Washington and Martin Luther King Jr., and heroines, including Florence Nightingale and Helen Keller, appear in their pantheon, but the Igguldens embrace the sensibilities of a daydreaming Edwardian lad by focusing on soldiers and explorers of the British Empire. Some of these—Horatio Nelson, Antarctic martyr Robert Scott—seem wholly admirable, but in others the boisterous lust for adventure is accompanied by brutality and perversity. The authors dutifully note Sir Richard Burton's mind-expanding encounters with Indian prostitutes. They balance Oliver Cromwell's massacres of Irish Catholics with his achievement in decapitating royal absolutism, and offset 17th-century buccaneer Henry Morgan's town burning and church pillaging against his role in building the British Empire. As they struggle to explain their protagonists' misdeeds, the Igguldens' commitment to historical complexity undercuts their celebration of boyish dangerousness. This awkward mix of genuine uplift, moral ambiguity, and imperial nostalgia will confuse as much as it inspires. B&w line drawings. (Apr. 20)