Readers familiar with Texas history (or America's westward expansion more generally) are likely to recognize Sam Houston (1793-1863). He left home as a teen to live with a tribe of Cherokee Indians - for three years. Later he managed Texas's war for independence, was President of the Republic of Texas, served as a U.S. Senator and, finally, was elected governor.
His personal life was no less exciting. He was thrice married and his final bride - 26 years his junior - bore him eight children. If Houston himself had never been born, it seems certain that an enterprising novelist would have felt compelled to create his roguish, adventuresome character - essentially a frontier-Texas version of Star Wars' Han Solo.
But Sam Houston is hardly an undiscovered historical figure. The most notable among several worthy, but dated, biographies is Marquis James's Pulitzer Prize-winning "The Raven: A Biography of Sam Houston" which was published in 1929. But Haley's modern-day biography is supported by 15 years of research which included access to a significant cache of privately-held materials unknown to previous biographers.
To Haley's credit, his narrative does an excellent job exploring the strengths and weaknesses of previous biographies of Houston. No less thoughtful are his ongoing efforts to separate the "myth" of Houston's legend from the reality - to separate fact from fiction. Finally, there are wonderful moments that colorize Houston's portrait nicely: an evening he spent with a jug of Madeira, an exploration of his closest relationships, and consideration of his peculiar penchant for dressing like a Cherokee chieftain...
But if this biography could hardly have been better researched, it is quickly clear that it could have been better written. Haley's style is rarely vibrant or colorful and if there is a clear and engrossing way to describe an event, he often swerves to avoid it. More often, the narrative exudes a dry, clinical or aggressively matter-of-fact aura.
Readers unfamiliar with Texas history, the Texas Revolution or the broad cast of characters elemental to Houston's era will find it difficult to fully appreciate much of the storyline. And for every robust introduction to a supporting character the book offers, there are several others (such as Davy Crockett, Sam Bowie, Stephen F. Austin and General Santa Anna) who would have benefited from a more mesmerizing and fulsome debut.
Finally, the narrative often fails to provide background or context. Combined with the author's frequent failure to foreshadow or summarize important events or themes, many readers will quickly lose sight of the bigger picture and become lost in the weeds. But everyone who perseveres to the end will appreciate the indelible uniqueness of this early American.
Overall, James Haley's biography of Sam Houston is a historian's dream - the product of diligent research and exquisite care in uncovering and parsing the historical record. But for most others it is likely to prove dense, dull and disappointing. Clearly, the definitive yet thoroughly engrossing biography of Sam Houston remains to be written...
Anyone exploring the presidency of Woodrow Wilson will encounter, and be fascinated by, Edward M. House (1858-1938). Known honorifically as “Colonel House” he was a wealthy Texan with a penchant for political advice whose national career was launched after meeting Woodrow Wilson. House acted as his presidential adviser and close confidante for nearly a decade…until Wilson’s second wife helped catalyze the dissolution of their relationship toward the end of his presidency.
Neu’s biography carefully documents the major moments of House’s life with a decided emphasis on his years spent dishing out political advice – first to Texas gubernatorial candidates and later to Wilson. Neu’s research relies extensively on the “House Papers” at Yale University, memoirs of House’s contemporaries and interviews with several people who knew him personally.
Because of the nature of the relationship between Wilson and Colonel House, this book is almost as much about the Wilson presidency as it is about House’s life during those years. And because House was so consumed by his role in Wilson’s orbit there is relatively little in the narrative pertaining to the Colonel’s personal life or family members.
Anyone with an interest in Wilson’s presidency will find this book riveting since it provides a unique behind-the-scenes perspective on those years. And readers wishing to observe the diplomatic machinations of World War I (or the ensuing Paris Peace Conference) from an advantaged perch will also find the narrative especially enlightening.
Readers familiar with Robert Caro’s series on Lyndon Johnson will also see hints of that author’s talent for investigative prowess embedded in these pages…but without Caro’s famous verbosity. And among the many moments of merit are a chapter cementing House’s relationship with president-elect Wilson, countless pages documenting House’s meetings with European leaders on Wilson’s behalf and portions of the story which explain House’s falling out with President Wilson.
Finally, this impressively detailed account of Colonel House’s life is uncommonly balanced for a biography that relies so heavily on a subject’s diary and letters. One can be certain that House would have preferred a less objective appraisal of his strengths and weaknesses from his biographer.
But readers seeking a spellbinding tale of diplomacy and sagacious political advice are likely to leave this biography feeling disappointed. Neither Colonel House nor Woodrow Wilson are lively, colorful characters and Neu’s writing style does not noticeably animate them or the often serious scenes about which he writes.
In addition, little seems to be known of House’s early years. The first two decades of his life are captured in just a few pages and he meets and marries his wife within a single paragraph. And for all the effort directed at his public career, his personal life receives almost no attention. In the end, Colonel House comes across as an intriguing but sterile two-dimensional figure whose persona is never fully revealed.
Overall, Charles Neu’s biography of Colonel Edward House is a methodical, well researched and judicious review of the life of Woodrow Wilson’s most important political adviser. Although this book is consistently excellent as history it is never fully satisfying as literature. But whatever its imperfections may be this seems certain to be the definitive biography of Edward M. House for the foreseeable future.
Readers acquainting themselves with Franklin Roosevelt invariably become enamored with two people central to FDR’s orbit: Eleanor Roosevelt and Harry Hopkins. I read David Michaelis’s biography of Eleanor shortly after its release in 2020. And I’ve finally gotten around to this somewhat older – but marvelously compelling – biography of FDR’s closest political advisor.
Harry Hopkins (1890-1946) began his professional career managing humanitarian and social relief agencies. During the early years of the Depression his skills were put to wider use and by 1933 he was administering aid programs at the national level for FDR. But Roosevelt discovered that Hopkins was a man of even broader talents and with the onset of World War II Hopkins quickly became FDR’s closest and most trusted adviser – and was the hub of the Roosevelt-Stalin-Churchill triumvirate until the war’s end.
Roll draws heavily on Robert Sherwood’s classic 1948 exploration of the relationship between Hopkins and FDR, but also provides fresh insights based on sources uncovered within the past few decades including an FBI file on Hopkins (and his third wife), notes from KGB archives and papers donated to Georgetown University by one of Hopkins’s sons.
Harry Hopkins makes an especially enticing biographical subject: he was extraordinarily quirky and prone to odd maladies…but was highly intelligent and incredibly shrewd. Most importantly, he was an excellent judge of character who understood how power interacts with human nature and he dedicated himself to FDR’s interests. To the reader’s great benefit, nearly every aspect of the friendship between Roosevelt and Hopkins is artfully observed, dissected and explained.
But the heart of this biography, and where it shines brightest, is the middle-third of the book which details his actions as FDR’s emissary during World War II – as he communicated directly with, and coordinated between, the US, Britain and Russia. And although Hopkins’s personal life took a notable back-seat to his public career, Roll does a nice job ensuring that his subject’s three marriages, five children and other important relationships (such as with Eleanor Roosevelt) never fade far from view.
As commendable as this biography is, though, many readers will note that events outside Hopkins’s sphere tend to slip out of view. Planning for the cross-channel invasion of France, for example, is discussed frequently…but the actual assault receives almost no notice. In addition, the narrative chews through Hopkins’s first fifty years in about fifty pages. But if the balance between his early life and service to FDR isn’t quite ideal, it’s not far off the mark.
And overall, David Roll’s biography of Harry Hopkins proves both well-written and wonderfully illuminating. Roll provides a clear-sighted assessment of Hopkins’s strengths and weaknesses and is able to provide, given his access to previously unavailable sources, a far more comprehensive review of Hopkins’s life than previous biographers. Readers interested in Hopkins as a biographical subject, or anyone seeking an engaging biography, will quickly discover this an excellent choice.
Adolf Hitler (1889-1945) is one of history’s most horrifying and unfathomable demons. Not surprisingly, there are a large number of excellent books focused on his life and legacy including well-known biographies by Alan Bullock, Joachim Fest, John Toland and Volker Ullrich, among others.
Readers seeking an uplifting and entertaining biography of an important historical figure would do well to steer clear of Hitler, of course. But anyone willing to embrace a serious and somber subject will find that Kershaw’s abridged biography of Hitler proves extraordinarily thoughtful, methodical and penetrating.
Much of the 969-page narrative is devoted to considering Hitler’s personality, psychological make-up and his rhetorical and political talents. As Kershaw adeptly observes, these catalysts – along with a unique combination of timing, chance and circumstance – converged in such a way that Hitler and his perverted world view could take root and flourish.
The book’s focus on Hitler’s persona – which also considers his childhood influences, early professional failures and the broader context of post-WWI Germany – is arguably the most interesting and insightful part of the book. But the remainder of the narrative – which systematically documents the disintegration of the old German Republic and the rise of Hitler’s monstrous variant of fascism – is undeniably meritorious.
In many ways, this is really a political biography of both Hitler and the Nazi Party. As such, it is careful to consider the broad social, cultural, economic and political contexts which contributed to Hitler’s rise. Readers unfamiliar with mid-twentieth century history or World War II’s broad thrusts, however, may find Kershaw’s field-of-view too tightly focused on central Europe to provide much insight into the “big picture.”
The narrative is consistently serious, analytical and reflective. It is also frequently dry and often fact-heavy. Kershaw’s riveting dissection of Hitler’s persona eventually transitions to an exhaustive chronicle of events and circumstances which fans of the era will find intellectually invigorating. But some readers are likely to find large sections of the biography tedious or superfluous.
In addition, it may surprise some readers that such a detailed biography of Germany’s idiopathic villain almost fails to involve figures like Winston Churchill, FDR and Dwight Eisenhower. However, notorious henchmen such as Hermann Göring, Joseph Goebbels and Rudolf Hess (among many others) are prominently featured, along with other key adversaries and allies such as Benito Mussolini and Josef Stalin.
Overall, Ian Kershaw’s “Hitler: A Biography” is nearly everything one could expect from a serious survey of Hitler’s life: it is magisterial and sweeping, serious, thorough, analytical and extraordinarily thoughtful. Only readers with an inclination toward more buoyant topics, or a more lighthearted and mellifluous narrative, will find much lacking in this biography.
Andrew Roberts’s biography “Churchill: Walking with Destiny” was published in the fall of 2018 and quickly became a bestseller in both the US and UK. Roberts is an award-winning British author and journalist who has written more than a dozen books including “Napoleon: A Life” (which inspired a BBC tv series), “The Storm of War: A New History of the Second World War” and “House of Windsor.”
Within weeks of its release this book was hailed as one of the very best single-volume biographies of Winston Churchill ever published. Because this is the first biography of Churchill I’ve read, I am unable to offer an opinion on the matter. What is clear to me, however, is that Roberts’s biography of Churchill is magisterial, impressively thorough and keenly perceptive. It also benefits from the author’s access to personal papers and notes unavailable to previous biographers of Churchill.
Anyone familiar with Winston Churchill’s life will appreciate the difficulty inherent in compressing his remarkably eventful nine decades into a single volume. But Roberts seems to have accomplished the task with authority, clarity and precision. The book bursts with revealing observations and anecdotes and quickly proves a fruitful (if not effortless) reading experience.
Churchill is easy to lionize and while Roberts’s tome can occasionally feel like an instrument of praise, it is remarkably objective. The narrative critically embraces Churchill’s complexity and never fails to explore his personal faults as well as his professional mistakes. And the author’s attention to the lessons Churchill took from each misstep is as insightful as the description of the sins themselves.
The highlight of the biography for me: the final eighteen pages which are dedicated to the evaluation of Churchill’s life and legacy. Readers who may have overlooked or forgotten any of Churchill’s illustrious accomplishments or conspicuous flaws will find them carefully evaluated and fluently reviewed.
But in my experience, the very best biographies are found at the intersection of penetrating, insightful history and vibrant, captivating narrative. For all the well-deserved praise it has received, “Walking with Destiny” is superb as history but less successful as engaging literature.
Hardcore history enthusiasts might embrace a dry recitation of facts, but readers seeking a colorful exploration of Churchill’s life will find the narrative lamentably stiff. Anyone who has previously marveled at Churchill’s exceedingly interesting relationship with Franklin Roosevelt, for instance, will discover that much of the intangible magic surrounding their personal and professional connections is missing here.
Roberts does a remarkable job focusing on Churchill’s bubble – explaining what happened and often…but not always…why. But for readers new to Churchill and his surroundings this biography provides little context, almost no foreshadowing and only a fleeting sense of “the big picture.” As a result, this biography is most valuable to readers who are already familiar with Churchill’s life.
Overall, Andrew Roberts’s biography of Winston Churchill is a literary tale of two cities. Readers seeking a balanced, comprehensive and detailed history of Churchill’s life in a single volume will find this a biographical masterpiece. But anyone seeking to embrace this famously fascinating British politician through a narrative as captivating and colorful as Churchill himself are likely to find it somewhat disappointing.
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