From The New York Times Sunday Book Review
Reviewed by Mary Roach

"One passage in 'The Colony,' perhaps more than any other, epitomizes John Tayman's singular powers as a chronicler of human misery. It appears in a chapter that addresses the very special torments of a subset of Molokai's leprosy sufferers known as the blinds. Tayman has earlier explained that the bacteria that cause leprosy (or Hansen's disease, as it is now also known) seek out the cooler peninsulas of the human land mass: noses, earlobes, toes and fingers and, most devastatingly, eyes. The bacteria - which take cover from the patient's immune system by hiding out in (and destroying) nerves - soon erase the cornea's exquisite sensitivity. With no blink reflex, the eye's delicate surface dries out and is torn and scarred by an onslaught of everyday irritants: dirt, lashes, the patients' own fists as they rub their eyes. Blindness follows.

Here comes Tayman to blow us away: "Doctors tried training patients to blink on schedule, using a timer or some other device. The technique worked in some cases, but only if the patient was physically able. Leprosy bacilli also attack the nerve controlling eyelid muscles, creating a condition known as lagophthalmos, in which the person is unable to close the eyelids. In such cases surgeons rigged a thread of muscle from the jaw to the lid, which caused the person to blink as he chewed - doctors then handed them a pack of gum." Tayman's understated and unadorned presentation of these small, unthinkable human circumstances achieves a quiet greatness. It whispers; you cry."
(To read the full review, click here.)

From The New England Journal of Medicine

The Colony begins as a tale of heartbreak, suffering, and terrible loneliness, but it ends as a testimony of triumph and survival, with Tayman writing of the poignant and successful efforts of the survivors of Molokai to overcome prejudice and disability and rejoin society. The book is a painstakingly researched social history, a morality play illuminating the best and worst of human nature, a page-turning narrative, and a deeply sympathetic drama featuring a fascinating cast of characters.
(To read the full review, click here.)

From The New Yorker

Hawaii’s isolation from foreign illness slowly disintegrated through the nineteenth century as trading ships arrived bearing the yellow flag of disease. When leprosy cases appeared, panicked local officials designated the island of Molokai, some fifty miles from Honolulu, a “leprosarium,” because it was naturally inaccessible, presenting a sea cliff “so sheer that wild goats tumbled from its face.” The first twelve lepers were rowed to its rocky shores in January of 1866. Drawing on eight thousand pages of documents, Tayman reconstructs a fascinating history of the settlement, which officially lasted until 1969. Shortages of food, water, and shelter sent some lepers into caves pocketed inside an extinct volcano. Tayman’s multilayered account sketches in scientific details, such as the fact that later medical studies proved that most of the exiles weren’t even contagious.

From BookSense, #1 Pick!

"I couldn't put down this fascinating, often disturbing history of the Molokai leper colony and those who were forced to live (and die) there. Fear of this misunderstood disease turned people against each other, tore families apart, and wiped out individual rights in the name of public health." --Barb Bassett, The Red Balloon Bookshop, Saint Paul, MN

From Powells.com

* Favorite Pick * A fascinating work of history about a cruel response to a misunderstood disease, The Colony vividly recounts the saga of the leprosy colony on Molokai and the community once forcibly interred there. Tayman crafts a gripping, and at times horrifying, story about the people once consigned to the colony to die, their cruel overseers, the kindhearted dedicated to helping the internees, and the famous who came to visit this once world renown colony.

From San Francisco Magazine

A multiple magazine-award winner and former Outside editor, San Francisco’s John Tayman brings a meticulous, compassionate eye to the saga of the leper colony on Molokai, founded in 1866 and functioning as a city of medical exile until 100 years later. The story of the men, women, and children—almost 9,000 in all—forced into this natural prison by fears of contagion is both a stain on American history and the inspiring testimony to the strength of the exiles themselves. It’s a must-read today, when fears of superflus, bioterror, and the resurgence of old plagues fill the headlines. As Tayman’s riveting account shows, disease is often not nearly as threatening to civilization as our uncivilized treatment of the ill. Grade: A.

From Entertainment Weekly

While lepers are still synonymous with social outcasts, Tayman's fascinating tale of Hawaii's infamous leper colony, Molokai, reminds us why the word once carried such fearful cultural baggage. Established in 1866 with 12 "prisoners" forced to serve out their disease-ravaged lives in isolation, Molokai eventually housed thousands of inmates diagnosed (and often misdiagnosed) with leprosy and soon became a worldwide symbol of human decay. Thankfully, this comprehensive history gives voice to the very people who suffered and survived there. In deftly sketching notable Molokai figures like 19th-century Catholic priest Father Damien de Veuster and the still-thriving Makia Malo, a blind patient who became the first colonist to obtain a college degree, former Outside editor Tayman brings dignity to the 150-year history of a heavily burdened (but hardly defeated) population that endured a shameful chapter of segregationist history. B+

From The Honolulu Advertiser

"Dear friend, I think Hawaii is too touchy on matters of truth."
— Jack London to Lorrin A. Thurston, as quoted in "The Colony."

This is not a book about Father Damien. The beatified Belgian martyr plays large in its pages, fighting valiantly to save his many patients, and, ultimately, himself, from despair against long illness and longer odds. But, with all respect to Damien, we in Hawai'i know that already, as our many memorials to him attest.

Perhaps the most devoted will consider John Tayman's "The Colony" a slight to the soon-to-be saint, but it is in the editorial decision to make this a book about the whole of the community at Kalaupapa that Tayman's story transcends traditional histories and takes flight as one of the most riveting documents of Hawai'i history to emerge in years. Tayman's book, the product of three years' research on Moloka'i and O'ahu, is culled from a staggering array of sources, from 19th-century personal correspondence to old newspaper clippings to 21st-century interviews with Kalaupapa survivors. Tayman's impressive research and spare prose style allow him to stand back and let the exiles themselves tell this chilling story of abandonment and its aftermath. "The Colony" will appeal to students of history and those who simply love a great yarn.

It's a book about a young Hawaiian family, riddled with the misunderstood Hansen's disease, whose flight for freedom led to a military standoff deep in Kaua'i's Kalalau Valley. It's a book about a hapa-haole legislator, among Hawai'i's most popular socialites during David Kala-kaua's reign, who went from drinking companion of the king and Mark Twain to inmate and then overseer of the world's most desolate prison. It's a book about often well-meaning physicians and experts, whose inadequate knowledge about the disease led them to issue virtual death sentences after the most cursory of examinations. Many of those who lived and died on Moloka'i had never been touched by leprosy. It is a book about a child born in exile, who, despite having Hansen's disease and adolescent blindness, could not be held back from an academic career at the University of Hawai'i-Manoa.

It's also a book about us. In some sense, we as a community have probably allowed our pride in Damien's sacrifices to inoculate us against the ugly human failures that made them necessary in the first place.

While the humanity and essential courage of people like former Gov. Lawrence Judd do great honor to Hawai'i, the actions of many others we should be rightly ashamed of. Ashamed not because we are personally guilty or because shame in itself is worthwhile, but because if today's headlines are any guide, we have not entirely learned our lesson. Hawai'i's treatment of various stigmatized groups — of special-needs students, of the mentally ill, of gay and lesbian teenagers in state custody and state schools — has been the subject of frequent and sustained federal concern and litigation. Today's Hawai'i is unmarked by Hansen's disease, but we remain tainted by fear, shame or whatever it is that causes us to abandon and then forget those we do not accept or understand. "The Colony" is a stark reminder of the consequences of that neglect.

As reported in The Advertiser last month, Ann and Makia Malo (who appears in the book) and others associated with the Kalaupapa community are unhappy with the book, citing inaccuracies and unethical practices on Tayman's part. Despite this controversy surrounding "The Colony," ultimately Tayman's history of the colonies at Kalawao and Kalaupapa is the story of human courage, and survival. Its voice is that of the many people who were sent to die on a rocky prison, and through force of will, made that prison into a home.

From The Week

The Bible is resolute on leprosy. Anyone suffering the disease is to be pronounced “utterly unclean.” When a leprosy outbreak hit Hawaii in the 1860s, the government responded in like spirit. Sufferers were dropped into the waves off the coast of the island of Molokai. Food and shelter were scarce, and lawlessness reigned. But if the exiles were all meant to die on rocky Molokai the plan failed.... (To read the full review, click here.)

From The Baltimore Sun

In 1884, the Hawaiian Supreme Court declared that contracting leprosy was not a crime. It only had to be treated as one. The ruling left everything as it had been during the previous 18 years on a remote finger of land jutting from the northern coast of Molokai. Perhaps it was some comfort to the peninsula's inhabitants to officially be deemed non-criminals, but they were still unmistakably prisoners, involuntarily plucked from parents, children and siblings and forced to serve indeterminate sentences. Typically, that meant until the end of their days. Journalist John Tayman sets out to recount this tragic, mournful history of Molokai, which was most likely the largest and certainly the most famous of what were known as the world's "leper colonies."

The timing of his book couldn't be more propitious - or foreboding - as governments both here and abroad consider quarantines in the face of possible pandemics, such as the avian flu. Just last week, the public health magazine Health Affairs published poll results showing that a majority of those surveyed in the United States and in certain countries in the Far East favored the use of quarantines in the face of an outbreak of contagious disease. In the United States, though, the majority of the respondents opposed compulsory quarantine, exhibiting a distrust of government health officials....A veteran magazine editor, Tayman is a passionate and admirably sensitive chronicler of what can only be described as an inhumane policy. (You will find no leering photographs in this volume.) But he is also fair-minded enough to acknowledge that the colony on Molokai was established out of genuine public health considerations. Leprosy scared the hell out of the 19th century.

From Time

* A Must-Read * For more than 100 years, well into the 20th century, Hawaii had a policy of involuntarily and permanently exiling anybody who had leprosy to a tiny peninsula on the island of Molokai, walled off from civilization by the world's tallest sea cliff. The Colony is the story of the tiny, tortured community the lepers created, fighting prejudice, starvation, the elements, one another and their disease--which, we now know, was never particularly contagious.

From the Detroit Free-Press

* Four Stars * Riveting....Tayman can stand toe to toe with Erik Larson (Devil in the White City) for his ability to weave meticulously researched material into a fascinating narrative. (To read the full review, click here.)

From The Rocky Mountain News

A line attributed to Hemingway is that there are no boring subjects, just boring writers. Tayman has taken a fascinating subject and a story that rivals fiction in its twists and turns, added his considerable skill as a researcher and writer and given us the kind of book readers are sure to tell their friends about. Grade: A-
(To read the full review, click here.)

From Booklist

*Starred Review* Drawing on letters, journals, newspaper articles, medical documents, interviews, and other source material, Tayman has crafted a gripping history of the leper colony at the Hawaiian island Molokai. In the mid-1800s, when fear of leprosy spreading throughout the islands reached a fever pitch, Dr. William Hillebrand suggested the idea of isolating those infected from the rest of society. The colony opened in 1866, and after a stint at a hospital in Honolulu, patients were rounded up and shipped out to Molokai on a regular basis. The beginning years were especially hard, as patients were thrust into the settlement with inadequate supplies and no medical care to speak of. As the colony began to grow, it garnered attention from around the world, and missionaries such as kindhearted Father Damian came to bring religious services to the patients and writers such as Robert Louis Stevenson and Jack London traveled to Molokai to chronicle the plight of the colonists. As Tayman's narrative broaches the second half of the century, the accounts become more personal, culled from interviews with elderly patients who were originally sent to Molokai as children. Tayman's crisp, flowing writing and inclusion of personal stories and details make this an utterly engrossing look at a heartbreaking chapter in Hawaiian history.

From Publishers Weekly

From 1866 through 1969, the Hawaiian and American governments banished nearly 9,000 leprosy sufferers into exile on a peninsula on the Hawaiian island of Molokai. Former Outside editor Tayman crafts a tale of fear, endurance and hope in telling the story of these unfortunate victims of ignorance (leprosy is caused by a simple bacteria and isn't nearly as contagious as was long believed). After a smallpox epidemic wiped out a fifth of the Hawaiian population in the 1850s, leprosy was seen as the next cataclysmic threat, and drastic measures were taken. For more than 100 years, anyone diagnosed with the disease was taken to the remote colony. Initially, conditions were horrible, with few services or proper medical treatment. Pushed to their limit and fueled with potent moonshine, the internees frequently rioted, causing overseers to enforce cruel laws. Later, as science and social thinking evolved, conditions improved and many in the settlement lived lives of near normalcy. Drawing on contemporary sources and eyewitness accounts of the still surviving members of the colony, Tayman has created a fitting monument to the strength and character of the castoffs in particular, and human beings as a whole.

From Library Journal

In 1865, Hawaii criminalized the disease of leprosy and began the longest and harshest episode of medical segregation in American history. The Colony is the tragic tale of the thousands of men, women, and children determined (sometimes erroneously) to have leprosy and who were sent into forced exile on Hawaii's remote Molokai peninsula owing to a radical miscomprehension about the disease. Journalist and first-time author Tayman re-creates this poignant history, telling a tragic and heart-stopping tale filled with vivid descriptions of important policymakers, governmental officials, and writers such as Jack London who oversaw or visited the banished people. Tayman exposes the medical ignorance of the period and the desperate measures a frightened Hawaiian society employed to combat what was perceived as an epidemic of a highly contagious illness. In fact, leprosy, now referred to as Hansen's disease, is not easily spread. Since Hawaii's law was not repealed until 1969, Tayman was able to interview the colony's last living residents.

From Bloomberg News

In October, President George W. Bush made the chilling suggestion that he'd consider using the military to enforce a quarantine should avian flu break out in the U.S. Before taking that step, Bush ought to read John Tayman’s “The Colony” (Scribner, 421 pages, $27.95), a history of lepers exiled to the Hawaiian island of Molokai. Tayman transports readers to the 1860s, when Hawaii's monarchy was haunted by a smallpox epidemic that had killed half the population of Oahu. Fearing leprosy might pose the next big health threat, the government of King Kamehameha V shipped lepers to a rocky peninsula on Molokai. On Jan. 6, 1866, the first 12 arrived. They were given only a few shovels and axes, gray wool blankets, some salt beef, bread and two cottages. By the 1890s, the colony had swelled to 1,174 people and 423 buildings.

“The Colony” often reads like an adventure story, recalling hardships the lepers suffered. One horrifying chapter describes how Arthur Mouritz, the settlement's physician, experimented with healthy patients, using scalpel and hypodermic needles to infect them with “serum brimming with leprosy bacteria.” Tayman also documents acts of kindness administered by clergy members such as Flemish Catholic missionary Father Damien, who caught the disease and died in 1889. The book offers medical insights into leprosy, today known as Hansen’s Disease. Roughly 5 percent of the world's population is susceptible, though the incidence is higher among Hawaiians and the French. Untreated, the disease causes disfigurement. It’s seldom fatal. In the 1940s, scientists developed Dapsone, a drug that keeps leprosy from reproducing and prevents disability and communicability. Hawaii’s quarantine law remained in place until 1967. Today, 28 people still live on the grounds of the colony; four survivors gave Tayman vivid first-hand accounts.

From Kirkus Reviews

Veteran magazine editor Tayman debuts with a cold-eyed account of the Hawaiian government's century-long forced quarantine and effective imprisonment of lepers. Leprosy, called by the Hawaiian people "the sickness that is a crime" because it leads to gross disfigurement, probably arrived with the whaling ships to the islands by the early 1800s. It was believed to be incurable and wildly infectious; in fact, it is caused by a bacteria and communicable only to persons with a genetic susceptibility. After the islands' decimation by a smallpox epidemic in 1853, King Kamehameha V pledged to preserve the health of his subjects, and the Board of Health, prodded by the alarms sounded by Dr. William Hillebrand, moved to criminalize those showing symptoms of leprosy. Beginning in 1866,victims were arrested, isolated and exiled to the rocky, barren island of Molokai. The first dozen were deposited in a deserted village with no medical facilities and inadequate food; as incurables, they were expected to die. Many did indeed perish as the population swelled: Patients split into factions, fought for food and rebelled against the beleaguered superintendent. During the colony's most populous era, in the late 1880s, Molokai was home to 1,144 inmates and had 432 buildings; it became habitable, even comfortable, according to Robert Louis Stevenson and other famous observers. Tayman offers numerous fascinating personal stories of people arrested and exiled to Molokai, sometimes with mistaken leprosy diagnoses. He profiles the tireless Flemish priest Father Damien, who caught the disease himself and died in 1889, and gives chilling details about medical experiments performed to isolate the leprosy bacilli. The author does not neglect the political ramifications of a leper colony growing in size at a time when America had its eye on annexing Hawaii and turning it into a vacation paradise. He hauntingly depicts the devastation of an ill-understood disease and helps demystify its victims, too often viewed as "sinful, shameful, and unclean." Rigorous, tenacious research uncovers a grim story of human suffering.