We're guessing you didn't come across a book called The Devil in the White City and think, "Aha! That sounds like a fun and lighthearted read!" And it's good that you're not expecting to read something uplifting—this ain't a book for people who want to feel warm n' fuzzy inside.

Meet H.H. Holmes. He's handsome. He's suave. He's got a big house in Chicago. He's the definition of a lady-killer. The literal definition.

Before 20th-century serial killers like Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy made headlines (and nightmares) across the nation, Holmes was seducing women, promising to wed them, and then finishing them off in his homemade vault before they could even say "I do." He's responsible for the murder of twenty-seven people in the 1890's…and what's even more chilling is that his predictable patterns never once caught the attention of Chicago police.

Fasten your seatbelts folks—this is a very grim (and very true) story.

Erik Larson's The Devil in the White City chronicles the killing spree of America's first serial killer. But it's more than just another true crime mini-series. This book offers powerful insights into the nature of human ambition, because at the same time Holmes was constructing his death trap apartment complex, famous architect Daniel H. Burnham was building the greatest event ever in the history of America: the Chicago World's Fair of 1893, a.k.a. the White City.

Ever heard of it?

You might not be familiar with the fair itself, but you're definitely familiar with some of the inventions that debuted there, like steam engines, light bulbs, Ferris Wheels, and zippers.

But this fair wasn't just thrown together to give the good people of Chicagoland a nice time. This fair was masterminded and constructed to show the world that Middle America wasn't to be messed with. The previous World's Fair had been set in Paris and so, when Burnham helmed the Chicago World's Fair, he was facing the daunting task of proving that America could throw as good a party as Europe.

Oh yeah—and this White City was constructed just a few short blocks from the hotel where Holmes was busy getting his murder on. What's so captivating about The Devil in the White City is the juxtaposition of pride (Burnham) and unfathomed evil (Holmes) and how a single event draws out such different sides of human nature.

So grab some Cracker Jacks (which made their first appearance at the Chicago World's Fair) and delve in.

Ambition. It's a tricky subject.

On the one hand, we're told that it's pretty much the #1 Most Desirable Trait known to man. After all, people armed with enough ambition can go out and make their dreams come true. Straight A's can be earned. Ivy League schools can be gotten into. Books can be written. Symphonies can be composed. Businesses can be run. Empires can be assembled. Wars can be fought. Nations can be conquered...

See what we did there? Yeah: ambition can be good or bad, depending on how it's used.

The same ambition that can lead to, say, becoming valedictorian, can also lead to ruthlessly destroying other people in order to get ahead. Or, to throw out another example—ambition is the reason that Burnham made the 1893 Chicago World's Fair such a success…and the reason that H.H. Holmes creates a murder castle in the middle of Englewood.

Both men wanted something. Both had the ambition to achieve their dreams. But one of them had the dream of making Chicago into a bona fide world-class city and one had the dream of killing dozens of people.

Don't worry: Larson doesn't hammer you over the head with the moral ambiguity of ambition. He's not here to lecture you on whether ambition is a good trait or a bad one. He's simply setting two stories—Burnham and Holmes'—side by side, and letting you see how ambition can work.

And ambition is extra pertinent to this story because of its setting. There's a lot of talk in The Devil in the White City about the "Chicago spirit," which is a trait that, unbelievably, doesn't just mean "love of deep dish pizza." The "Chicago spirit" is grit, guts, determination, and (yes) ambition. It's the spirit necessary to live in the icy tundra of the Midwest and thrive. (They don't call Chicago "The City That Works" for nothing.)

So yeah: both Burnham and Holmes have that uber-ambitious "Chicago spirit." They just use it to achieve radically different things.