Nothing Like It In The World is one of those rare books where the story told is engrossing enough to make a reader forgive, at least temporarily, a writing style seemingly designed to annoy the reader. Focusing mainly on how the work was done, Stephen Ambrose’s detailed review of the building of the transcontinental railroad jumps all over the country, taking readers through back offices, government corridors and construction camps along the way.

Ambrose covers a lot of ground. Readers get to see the planning of the line, the political moves necessary to make it happen, the funding, and, for most of the book, the construction. The timing of many of the events can be a surprise. Chief among them is the construction of the railroad begin during the Civil War. While some politicians saw the road as a way to tie the country together, the central drive of most of those involved was to make money, the war be damned. It’s one of the first revelations in the book that’s almost astounding by today’s standards.

Most amazing about the railroad, though, is that for all practical purposes it was built by hand. The grade was laid by thousands of workers wielding shovels and wheelbarrows, and ties and rails were placed and fastened by hand as well. (Take a look at the photos on this page for an example of the Central Pacific’s handiwork.) Even the tunnels drilled by the CP through the Sierra Nevada mountains were done this way, mostly by Chinese workers with sledgehammers, massive hand drills and dangerous quantities of black power and nitroglycerin. And when I say by hand, I mean by hand; the vast majority of workers didn’t even use work gloves. Again, the modern mind marvels.

Other areas covered by Ambrose include the infighting among the boards of the two railroads building the line (most notably within the Union Pacific, who’s management group was often outright dysfunctional); the constant battle to acquire materials and get them to the end of track; the threats caused by indians, striking coworkers and the “hell on wheels” towns following the construction; and, towards the end, the often ridiculous duplication of efforts as the UP and CP raced on quite literally right next to each other. We get to see surveyors out in the wilderness they loved, even as they recognized their work will lead to its destruction. We get to see Californians be fully impressed by the work of the Chinese, who in the past hadn’t been considered to be capable of much. And we get to see the political shitstorm that followed the UP’s financial books getting cracked open.

It’s a great ride. Unfortunately, like the early railroad, it’s not always a comfortable one, for Ambrose seemed determined to prove that he was exceedingly adept at repeating himself. It got to the point that every time I read “it had to be done, and they did it” or “what _____ needed more than anything else was money” or “build it fast” I could practically feel my eyebrow twitch in response. Thankfully, the book ended before I could come unhinged, but in retrospect I would’ve preferred a little more variation throughout the book’s 400 pages. To be fair, there was some cause for the repetition–the building of the railroad, tie by tie, rail by rail, was nothing if not repetitive–but that doesn’t mean Ambrose should’ve aimed to drag us though a literary equivalent.

Complaints aside, I’d still recommend this book. It’s an engaging, detailed telling of a story that may be even more amazing now than when it actually happened. 7/10.