Important themes in academic prose. If that's not your cup of tea, skip to the author's TED Talk.Important themes in academic prose. If that's not your cup of tea, skip to the author's TED Talk....more
I received this book as a gift from the publisher because I wrote a positive review about Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me. I suppose their I received this book as a gift from the publisher because I wrote a positive review about Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me. I suppose their thinking was that if I as a white person was willing to face a frank discussion about racial inequality, I’d also be willing to face one about the class divide. The books are similar in that they both contend that “American exceptionalism” is a myth, but their tones are starkly different. While Coates’ is more of a personal memoir, this book is documentary history. That made it a slower and heavier read, but as history books go, at least parts of it were page-turning.
As the subtitle states, the book covers a broad swath of American history – from the early colonial days to the 2008 presidential election. The prejudice against “white trash” in America indeed goes that far back; the people sent to settle the colonies were not just artisans, but debtors and sometimes criminals – the people England wanted to get rid of. I’d learned a bit about this in Big Chief Elizabeth by Giles Milton, but that was a whitewashed version of Sir Walter Raleigh anyway, so I am not surprised that this book portrayed the social engineering as much more sinister. Life in the colonies was so harsh, sending people there was literally treating them like expendable human refuse.
The book continued through the post-revolutionary years with such “white trash” politicians as Davy Crockett and Andrew Jackson. The former disavowed the irascible latter, which made me admire him all the more. But it was disappointing to learn that John and Abigail Adams, the most consistently anti-slavery of our founding parents and therefore presumably the most democratic, were real snobs toward uneducated white folk. Another surprise was that the original colony of Georgia, founded by a man named James Oglethorpe, banned the use of African slaves so that poor white people could find employment. Had Oglethorpe gotten his way, the import of African slaves to America might have been curtailed. Unfortunately, the landowning class of Georgia preferred to copy South Carolina, its slave-owning neighbor to the north.
This brings me to the Civil War, which naturally got quite a bit of coverage in the book. Lincoln, who famously grew up in a log cabin, was the quintessential poor white man, and he got plenty of jabs for it. “Crackers” and “rednecks” are terms for southerners; Lincoln got the label of “sandhill,” as in “You’re so poor, you live in a sandhill.” But my favorite historical tidbit from this section was that a small group of landless southern whites seceded from the Confederacy and took over an island in the middle of a swamp in North Carolina, calling themselves, “the Free State of Jones.” Why should they put their lives on the line for the sake of white landowners who only looked down on them anyway?
The next major theme was the Darwin-inspired eugenics movement, which was highly influential in the early twentieth century, most famously in the case of Buck v. Bell in which a woman of “borderline intelligence” was forcibly sterilized. At the same time, upper and middle class women were being encouraged to “breed” as a national service on par with men’s military service. Most modern feminists would rail against such a thing, and since it was coming from a racist and classist perspective, there’s certainly ample reason to oppose it, but I do think there’s something positive to be said for viewing the job of child-rearing as an important and honorable duty.
Then at last the book went into the redemption of the redneck in popular culture. Elvis is the primary symbol of this, but there’s also Dolly Parton, and, in the political arena, LBJ, Bill Clinton, and Sarah Palin. The book doesn’t quite spell it out this way, but what I got out of it is that as successive generations began to view slavery as the evil that it is, it was natural that white southerners would prefer the claim that they descended from the poor rather than the landowning, slave-owning class.
As a whole, my favorite parts of the book were at the end because that was where it covered cultural and political phenomena I actually lived through. But the early sections were also excellent, so I highly recommend this book. You’ll learn plenty, and there’s just enough pop culture mixed in with the history to give you some fun along the way. Thank you, Viking, for your generous gift. ...more
Sarah Vowell is one of my favorite writers. She describes herself as a “historian-adjacent nonfiction narrative wise guy,” but I consider her a genuinSarah Vowell is one of my favorite writers. She describes herself as a “historian-adjacent nonfiction narrative wise guy,” but I consider her a genuine historian and genuinely wise. Her signature style is to mix a meticulously researched account of history with snarky comments, but within her analysis come some absolute gems of political insight. This book stays true to her style.
The book begins in 1824 with the return visit of the Marquis de Lafayette to America, but it is mostly it is about the American Revolutionary War. Sarah describes Lafayette as the best friend America ever had. He was a glory-seeking nineteen-year-old when he volunteered to join the colonial army. By the end of the war, he had matured and seen enough to know to be cautious with the lives of the soldiers in his command.
If there’s one thing that this book makes especially vivid, it’s the hardships of war. Every American has learned about the cold, hard winter at Valley Forge, but Sarah brings it to life like no other author I’ve ever read. She quotes eye-witness accounts, usually Lafayette’s letters home and sometimes the writings of other soldiers. The clearest and most brutal image I now have of Valley Forge is the bloody footprints of the colonial soldiers who had to march barefoot over ice and snow. Even worse is the reason they were so ill-equipped: tax squabbles. Of course, the whole war was being fought over tax squabbles, but there’s a difference between a punitive tax policy and taxes for basic needs, like feeding and clothing the people risking their lives for liberty.
Under these conditions, it’s not surprising that there was plenty of desertion amongst the rank and file, but there was plenty of dissension in the uppermost ranks, too. Most of us think of George Washington as a celebrated hero, but in his own time, there were several attempts to sack him. Lafayette remained his loyal defender through it all.
I will admit that the sections describing military strategy made for dull reading. In general, I find military strategy difficult to follow, so there were some sections I had to re-read. At other times, my mind just wandered. I considered taking away a star for that, but I decided it was my failing, not the book’s. If anything, it proves that this is a “genuine” history book, and not “history adjacent.” As much as I love learning history, if a history book doesn’t have some dull parts, it comes across as too light-weight to me. Sarah’s books offset the dull parts with jokes, personal narrative, and forays into pop culture. Some may call that light-weight, too, but I say this is her most scholarly work yet. She really packed in the historical detail.
After painting the dreary picture of the travails of the colonial army, Sarah explains how we won: foreign aid. Other Frenchmen followed Lafayette’s lead and volunteered, as did a disgraced German officer named von Steuben, who drilled the rank and file until they could hold their own in battle. Ultimately, France provided the naval help that won the decisive battle of the war. So the book is not just a tribute to Lafayette, but to France itself.
Sarah began writing it after French fries were renamed “freedom fries” because France refused to participate in the Iraq War. Anti-France feeling was rampant then. But I happened to read this book in a week when sympathy for France was running high, the week of a deadly terrorist attack. This particular history lesson – that the United States owes its liberty to France – could not have come at a more meaningful time. So given the current climate, I recommend reading the book right away. It will make you a more grateful American.
This book is probably the definitive work on Roger Williams, which means it was well-researched, detailed, and took me a few weeks to get through. It This book is probably the definitive work on Roger Williams, which means it was well-researched, detailed, and took me a few weeks to get through. It was so chock-full of information, the task of writing a review of it daunted me, but delaying it has only made things worse because now I've probably forgotten even more. But here are two telling reactions: 1) Roger Williams will be the subject of my next Toastmasters speech and 2) I want to visit Rhode Island on my next family vacation and see as many historical sites as I can, especially the Newport Synagogue. The synagogue was not established until after Williams' lifetime, but his policy of allowing people of all religions to settle in Rhode Island made it possible.
The book made me want to stand up and applaud Roger Williams, and certainly I learned many new details along the way, but the main thing the book did was to reinforce the impression I went in with. That came from Sarah Vowell's observation in The Wordy Shipmates in which she said that Thomas Jefferson usually gets all the credit for the separation of church and state that we enjoy in this country, but he built his ideas on Roger Williams'. More than that, where as Jefferson opposed the mixing of religious and political power because he thought it was bad for democracy, Williams, who was a Puritan himself, considered political power corrupting to the church. As a religious person, I was fascinated by that, and that is what drew me to the book.
As I said, the book taught me more details of how Roger Williams translated this belief into his philosophy and into action. First, he befriended the Natives and learned their language because he did not want them converted without their understanding. Second, he opposed the requirement of the Massachusetts Bay Colony leadership that all colonists had to pledge loyalty to the Puritan church. There were British non-Puritans amongst the colonists, most notably Captain John Smith, and Williams considered it a pro forma oath to be a corruption. And everyone agreed they needed Captain Smith. He was the most experienced settler among them. Both the oath and his feelings about Native conversions are reflected in his quintessential statement, "False worship stinks in G-d's nostrils."
In getting to know the Natives, Williams also came to the conclusion that the colony's claim that the land was unused and therefore available for the taking land was wrong. He asserted that the colonists ought to pay for it, but he was forced to recant on that one. He didn't back away from his other views, though, and since he was gaining a following, he was considered a danger and therefore was exiled. . .in the middle of winter. The Narangasset tribe housed him until spring, and then he settled in what would become Providence. His wife and children followed, and soon other Puritans did, too, mostly those, who, like him, didn't exactly fit the mold. One of these was the famous Anne Hutchinson, who seemed perfectly reasonable according to this book, but is portrayed as an illogical mystic in others. In any case, Providence became a haven for religious misfits, and anyone who knows me will understand exactly why that appeals.
There's still plenty to say about Roger Williams, but I just want to reiterate with what I said about the book itself. I'm giving it a 5 because it's a thorough and informative history, but be warned: it's also a pretty slow read....more
I’m going to echo the opinion of one of my GR friends in her review and say that I probably would have enjoyed this much more if I were still young enI’m going to echo the opinion of one of my GR friends in her review and say that I probably would have enjoyed this much more if I were still young enough to be a member of its intended audience. But while it’s an engaging story, as an adult, the resolutions seemed way too pat to be believable. ...more
This is Sarah Vowell’s follow-up to The Wordy Shipmates, which was about the Puritans of Massachusetts Bay Colony. This book picks up several decades This is Sarah Vowell’s follow-up to The Wordy Shipmates, which was about the Puritans of Massachusetts Bay Colony. This book picks up several decades later with a new generation of Puritans who sail to Hawaii to missionize to the natives. Sarah says that writing it forced her to confront her own biases more than any of her other books, and I had the same experience reading it. For example, I assumed the “unfamiliar fishes” in the title referred to all the strange and exotic things the Puritans encountered in Hawaii. Actually, the title is from the native perspective: the Puritans were the unfamiliar fishes washing up on the Hawaiian shores. And I also turn out to be more puritanical than I thought; I am sure I would have been just as scandalized as the Puritans were by the ritual hula/fertility dance. I too would have wanted to save the natives from their paganism.
But whatever biases Sarah had, I think she gave both sides fair treatment in this book, which is to say that she makes clear that what the white people did to colonize Hawaii was underhanded and disgusting, but she also acknowledges how mismanagement on the part of the Hawaiian royalty contributed to it. Much of the book made me angry, possibly more than The Wordy Shipmates did, though that leads me to question myself on why legal manipulations make me angrier than outright genocide. I also think there were more laugh-out-loud lines here than in her other books, but because the history didn’t grab me quite as much, I’m only giving a 3. Chalk it up to my white American bias, but the stories of three American presidents in Assassination Vacation remains my reigning favorite amongst Sarah Vowell’s dark comedy/history books. ...more
I was first introduced to Sarah Vowell through “This American Life,” and I always felt a strong affinity for her. She and I are very close in age, andI was first introduced to Sarah Vowell through “This American Life,” and I always felt a strong affinity for her. She and I are very close in age, and, I suspect, in temperament. I, too, have a high squeaky voice. I, too, love books, history, and writing. I, too, am politically liberal and idealistic. But what really made me feel her to be a kindred spirit was her description of the no-nukes club she joined as a teenager in the 1980’s. My whole social life centered around the HOPE club (Hillcrest Organization for Peace on Earth) in my high school years. She may have been raised a Pentecostal Christian in a small town in the Midwest and I a secular Jew in New York City; she may have abandoned the religion of her birth while I embraced mine, but we were both nerdy teenage girls in Reagan’s America, and I feel that makes us soul sisters.
For all that, someone might wonder why it took me so long to read one of her books, but actually, I didn’t realize until very recently that her main theme is American history (with a sarcastic twist). Once I found that out, I had to get hold of her books. And I started with this one because it’s about colonial America, and specifically Massachusetts Bay Colony. It was also because of “This American Life” that I began my recent foray into colonial/Native American history. The “Little War on the Prairie” episode was based on a book I haven’t read yet, North Country, which is about the wars with the natives during the settlement of Minnesota and the Dakotas, but I figured I ought to go further back in history first. I began with Big Chief Elizabeth, which is about Roanoke, and followed up with Love and Hate in Jamestown. Chronologically, Massachusetts Bay Colony came next, and as an added boon, Sarah Vowell is descended both from Puritans and from Cherokees, which I figured would give her a unique perspective.
Since history is never as popular a topic as humor, several other GR reviewers complained of “too much history” in this book. About a quarter of the way through, I couldn’t understand them. The history was there, but it was secondary to the snarky polemics and commentary. But in the middle, the ratio reversed. There’s plenty of detail about England’s religious wars, the divisions amongst the Puritans themselves, and the genocidal war with the Pequot tribe.
The main figure in the book is John Winthrop, first governor of Massachusetts, but more interesting to me was Roger Williams, founder of the break-off colony of Providence, Rhode Island. As most American Jews know, the oldest synagogue in America is the Touro Synagogue in Providence. Roger Williams, though too puritanical for the Puritans themselves, was the first great advocate of separation of church and state, which is why the Jews joined his colony. And Sarah makes a brilliant insight: Roger Williams was not the proto-Jefferson; Jefferson was his flip side. Whereas Jefferson was concerned with limiting the powers of government, Williams did not want the church sullied with political power.
The main theme Sarah keeps returning to is John Winthrop’s sermon to his people about building “a city on the hill.” She quotes it in the beginning, and she shows many of its iterations in more recent American history. But for me, the best part was her statement that if you really want to feel Roger Williams’ vision, go to the Touro Synagogue. Yay, Sarah, my soul sister! She totally gets it! How I wish I could meet her in person! Would she like me as much as I like her? ‘Coz I think she’s awesome! ...more
Forget the Disney version! This book will give you the real deal on Pocahontas and Captain John Smith, and there wasn’t anything romantic about it. ShForget the Disney version! This book will give you the real deal on Pocahontas and Captain John Smith, and there wasn’t anything romantic about it. She really did save his life on at least two occasions, and they did develop a special friendship, but that was all. She was much younger than he. Their importance was as leaders. She was a princess with a sympathetic heart and an attraction to English ways. He was a commoner who rose to power in Jamestown on the merit of his pragmatic leadership, which included shrewd dealings with the natives. The “love” in the title refers to the peace each of them was able to achieve. The “hate” is what happened when they were not around, which, unfortunately, was most of the time. Pocahontas didn’t live long, and Captain Smith was deposed by people of higher birth and a much cruder understanding of the natives.
I read this book as a follow-up to Big Chief Elizabeth, which was mostly about Roanoke, but had a few chapters on Jamestown. This book was all about Jamestown, and had only a few sentences on Roanoke, so I’m glad I already had the background to know that Jamestown was built on Roanoke’s mistakes. (Also, this book asserts that Sir Walter Ralegh was much more dictatorial than Big Chief made him out to be.) As the final chapter of Love and Hate makes clear, Massachusetts Bay Colony was built on Jamestown’s mistakes, and specifically from the extensive writings of Captain Smith of what worked and what failed.
Of the two books, Love and Hate was the more readable, though it was no more novel-like than Big Chief, with the possible exception of the section on Pochahontas’ visit to England. It was also just as grisly; there’s no getting away from that in a discussion of the colonial era. Mostly, the author admires Captain Smith, and by the end of the last chapter, you will too. History doesn’t always make for easy reading, but some books are worth the effort. This is one of them. ...more
I chose this book with my usual criterion for history books: several reviewers said it “read like a novel.” Unfortunately, I don’t agree. It focused oI chose this book with my usual criterion for history books: several reviewers said it “read like a novel.” Unfortunately, I don’t agree. It focused on the personalities behind the early American colonies, which definitely helped, but I found my mind wandering fairly often. Also, since the quotes from the primary sources (the “dialogue” of history books) were written in Elizabethan English, it was a bit of a chore to get through all the odd spelling. The history itself is worth the effort, but be forewarned: this is not the whitewashed version of Jamestown you learned in school. At times, this is one grisly tale.
If there’s a hero in this book, it’s Sir Walter Ralegh, but he wasn’t the first Englishman to spearhead an expedition to the New World. The first was Richard Hore, but his idea was more of a money-making scheme than a plan for colonization. He hoped to go to the New World, capture a native, bring him back to England, and turn him into a traveling freak show. It might have worked, except the crew he put together was completely unprepared for the trip. One boat returned to England after a storm. The ones that reached the New World were either decimated by natives or died of starvation and disease. The few who survived had to resort to cannibalism and returned to England in disgrace.
Sir Walter Ralegh had the good sense to learn from his predecessor’s mistakes. First, he used his abundant charm to curry favor with Queen Elizabeth so that his venture would be properly financed. Meanwhile, he read everything he could get his hands on about the New World. The key to his plan came from a Frenchman who had befriended a native and taught him French. Ralegh understood who knew best about the land he wanted to colonize. His mission would be one of peace. His crew would work with the natives until they became the willing subjects of “Big Chief” Elizabeth.
Sir Walter then hired a mathematician named Richard Harriot, the introverted complement to his extroversion. While Raleigh was out drumming up publicity for his plan, Harriot was teaching the crew navigation so they would actually arrive, unlike Hore’s crew. Once they did arrive, they settled on the island of Roanoke, and Harriot put his mathematical mind to learning the native language. He created a phonetic alphabet so that the colonists could learn it, too.
Amazingly, he succeeded. The natives were not always happy with the British, but they preferred them to the ruthless Spanish conquistadors. What do you expect from the inventors of the Inquisition?
When it was time to return to England, Harriot brought back not one, but two natives, not as a freak show but as ambassadors of the New World. One saw the Englishmen as captors and wanted no part of it, but the other, Manteo, embraced his new role and the honors that went with it. But other factors threatened to choke the new colony. The Englishmen who returned spread the word about how hard life was in Roanoke. They were well-born gentlemen who were not used to manual labor. So Sir Walter had to take subsequent groups of colonists from the poorer, crime-ridden areas of London. He wanted honest, hard-working artisans who had little to lose in leaving England. He made sure to include more women, too.
As we know, the colony at Roanoke disappeared. It’s considered a mystery because no bones were ever found, and that’s the subject of the epilogue of the book, but the disappearance doesn’t seem very mysterious to me. Manteo did not have complete control over the natives, nor did the colonists always behave as peaceably as Sir Walter Raleigh had intended, so bloodshed was inevitable. And when Queen Elizabeth died, Sir Walter Raleigh’s rivals made sure to get him imprisoned in the Tower of London. Roanoke lost its visionary and advocate, and with no one to send supplies, starvation and disease set in. Once again, the “civilized” Englishmen turned to savage cannibalism.
King James did not share his predecessor’s enthusiasm for the American colonies, so it is ironic that Jamestown, the first surviving colony, was named after him. The chapters on Jamestown include the famous story of how Pocahontas saved John Smith, but that wasn’t her only intervention. She also informed him of an impending native attack once, and when she married John Rolfe, she ended up becoming a better native ambassador than Manteo ever was. Of all figures in the book, she fascinates me the most. What in the world motivated her?
If my detailed summary hasn’t spoiled the book for you, I recommend it. It’s a little less dry than your average history book, though nowhere as readable as a novel. But it’s still history that every American should know. To me, the main lessons are three: 1) Life was so hard in the colonies, it’s miraculous that anyone survived at all; 2) Our great American democracy would not exist at all if not for that lethal cash crop, tobacco; and 3) Behind every success story lies a whole lot of failure....more
Because of the movie "American Treasure" and the plot sequence involving Benjamin Franklin's Silence Dogood letters (a series of letters he published Because of the movie "American Treasure" and the plot sequence involving Benjamin Franklin's Silence Dogood letters (a series of letters he published under a pseudonym at age 16), my youngest son became interested in him and picked out a biography for me to read aloud at night. That biography, written for kids, cites its main source as Ben Franklin's autobiography, so I figured it was high time I read that American classic.
I'll admit it: the old-fashioned language of the original is daunting and sometimes made for dull and/or difficult reading. But if you're willing to push past that, you'll be richly rewarded. Because of the language and a few other things I'll go into below, I've rated this book a 4, but some of Franklin's insights are 5-star gems of wisdom. And he's also deliciously tongue-in-cheek.
The other reason I didn't give the book a 5 is that it's more memoir than a complete biography. The only mention of the Silence Dogood letters is in the outline at the end; the letters or even a discussion of them didn't make the actual book. He does mention his lightning experiments, but almost in passing, presumably because he'd already published the details elsewhere. And though he does mention the French and Indian War and how it revealed the British army's weakenesses to the colonists, he doesn't talk much about the Revolution and doesn't seem to mention working on the Constitution at all. So while this is probably the best source there is on Franklin's early life and contains some excellent insights into human nature, to get a more general look at Franklin's life, I think I need to read another biography. ...more
This was my favorite book back in sixth grade, which is high praise, as it was assigned reading. I must say, it was a great choice on the part of my tThis was my favorite book back in sixth grade, which is high praise, as it was assigned reading. I must say, it was a great choice on the part of my teacher; it had adventure for the boys, romance for the girls, and enough history to make it really educational. Lately, I've finally gotten my kids interested, and though each has complained of some slow sections, they really do like it. I love it. I think the characterization is very well done, and as an adult, I appreciate the history lessons more than ever. Don't be surprised if you start seeing a few more early American history titles on my to-read and currently-reading lists!...more
This book was on my “to read” list for quite some time, but I always felt that I ought to get a better grounding in the founding fathers, ie the colonThis book was on my “to read” list for quite some time, but I always felt that I ought to get a better grounding in the founding fathers, ie the colonial, Revolutionary, and Constitutional period, before I took on the founding mothers. So after my recent reads of The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin and A People's History of the Supreme Court, the latter of which gave a thorough picture of the Constitutional Congress, as well as a re-read of Johnny Tremain with my kids and my middle son’s report on Benedict Arnold, I felt I was finally ready.
Because this was the first book I’d read after A People's History of the Supreme Court, my first reaction was almost a sigh of relief. Both are history books, but this one was a breeze by comparison, one of those histories that reads like a novel. It’s not for nothing that Cokie Roberts is one of the premier journalists in America. In addition to detailing all the heroism of famous women like Abigail Adams and Martha Washington, she told the stories of lesser known women of the day, so that you get a really complete picture of the time. And here and there, she inserts her own comments, some of which are pretty snarky.
I do have one regret regarding this book, and that is that I dropped it in favor of Magic Hours: Essays on Creators and Creation, a writing book that I had on interlibrary loan. That really interrupted the flow, so my enjoyment of the second half was not quite equal to my enjoyment of the first. But that was my fault, not the fault of the book. I recommend this book to every woman in America. It’ll make you want to give a big huzzah to all our founding mothers. ...more
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