The images and mood called forth by mention of Nostradamus are spooky, cultish, maybe a little corny, and mysterious. As Stéphane Gerson writes in his biography, this Renaissance physician-astrologer who became a prophet of doom might be “the most quoted Frenchman in history.”

Gerson doesn’t set out to prove that Nostradamus’s predictions all came true, or that his quatrains are reliable resources for predicting the future. But he clearly places his subject in high estimation, situating him in history “sandwiched between the astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus and the philosopher Giordano Bruno.” He also name-checks Abraham Lincoln, Billy the Kid, and Robin Hood as potential comparisons, lamenting the fact that “no secular or religious canon has deemed the predictions fit for inclusion.”

Nostradamus was educated and respected, someone with the “deep learning” of a humanist and the training and esteem of a physician. Of course, it’s sometimes difficult to discern the medical practice of Nostradamus’s time from hucksterism, as he also sold a “love philter so powerful … that placing a few drops in a woman’s mouth while kissing her would trigger burning passion.”

After covering the life and times of Nostradamus the mortal, Gerson devotes the rest of his book to the legend, pointing out that it seems to be during times of great crisis or confusion that people turn to him en masse. In the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, bookstores could not keep copies of Nostradamus’s Prophecies on the shelf. During the French Revolution, members of the National Guard paid a visit to his tomb, despite that fact that rationalism was in vogue and his popularity had faded. Against the “backdrop of uncertainty” brought on by the upheaval, Gerson says, France was concerned about the future, and some looked in Nostradamus’s direction for guidance. During Otto van Bismarck’s rule, as Prussia laid siege to Paris, the popularity of Nostradamus spiked again.

Gerson’s long view of history contextualizes all of this Nostradamus-mania. The world does sometimes feel spooky, and overwhelmingly mysterious. There might be no scientific reason to consult strange sixteenth-century prophecies of doom, but the fact that it’s often irresistible doesn’t seem ridiculous at all.