There is a book, called _The Rape of Nanking_. Unsurprisingly, it is about the Rape of Nanking. The Rape of Nanking is one of those horrific examples of man's inhumanity to man that makes me want to curl up in the foetal position under my oldest blankets and sing tunelessly to myself until I recover some vestige of capability. Unfortunately, I can't *do* that right now, because I have to write a fucking critical book review of the thing. Whine whine whine.
(Don't let my whining stop you from reading the book. It's by Iris Chang. If you don't know much about the Rape of Nanking you probably SHOULD read the book - just be warned that it is extremely squicksome. People SUCK. A lot.)
(Don't let my whining stop you from reading the book. It's by Iris Chang. If you don't know much about the Rape of Nanking you probably SHOULD read the book - just be warned that it is extremely squicksome. People SUCK. A lot.)