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Two of my best friends recommended this book to me, and I'm glad they did because I probably wouldn't have picked it up on my own. Presidential assassinations? Uh... no thanks. I was alive to see the assassinations of a number of prominent people, and frankly, that seemed like enough for me. Besides, with all due respect to James Garfield and William McKinley, I really didn't have much interest in their lives much less their deaths. Fortunately Ms Vowell doesn't take a dry, just-the-facts-ma'am approach to her subject. She's funny, curious, a little strange, and willing to do a lot of leg-work to learn what she wants... needs to know about the deaths of the three Presidents (Lincoln is the third) which form the basis of her book.
Predictably, Lincoln's chapter is the longest. He's the best-known of the three, and possibly the only one still truly mourned in this country. But much of the narrative is about following the trail of John Wilkes Booth from the time where he plotted with other southerners to kidnap President Lincoln, through the actual assassination in Ford's Theater (Booth timed his shot to a line in the play which always produced a good deal of laughter, so that the report from his gun would be less noticed. Clearly it was his intention to escape, but in choosing that moment, he shot the President in the middle of a good belly laugh, and I don't think I'm alone in believing that if you have to be mortally wounded or killed, it's not a bad note on which to go out.) along the path of his flight, during which Vowell becomes convinced of the guilt of Dr. Mudd, and finally to being burned out of a barn and dying shortly thereafter, in great agony, a fact which was underlined, probably with a measure of satisfaction, in the official report of his death. It's also in this chapter that Vowell introduces us to Robert Todd Lincoln who could easily have been considered a Presidential jinx for her was at or near all three of the assassinations Vowell writes about. (Jinxy McDeath, as Vowell calls him in a note at the start of the final chapter.)
McKinley's chapter is most interesting for the portrait she paints of his successor, Teddy Roosevelt, a far more complex man that I'd ever imagined. But the surprise of the book by far, is the chapter on James A. Garfield, a man about whom I'd known next to nothing. (He was President, he was assassinated.) It turns out that this quiet man who never wanted to be President, was a man after my own heart, a man who would have preferred to go home and read than do anything else. Reading about how his political party attempted to manipulate and use him, made me feel very sad. That he rose to the occasion and chose to do what his conscience dictated made me like him all the more. I confess that after reading this chapter, I did a search to see if there were any Garfield libraries, feeling that it would be a shame if this man had never been commemorated by the one thing he would appreciate more than anything else, a library. As it happens, after his death, his widow had a wing added to the family home as a memorial library, and this is what set the precedent for all Presidential libraries. That's a cool legacy, in my opinion.
One of the things I like to do after I finish a book is to skim the reviews here on Amazon.com to see what others thought of it. I do note that there are a number of one-star reviews which seem kind of cranky about Ms. Vowell's politics, though they play very little part in her actual reporting of the facts of these assassinations, in my opinion, so I can only conclude that they simply don't like her because she's a liberal and it has nothing to do with the stories she's telling. Knee-jerk politics at its best.
One reviewer complains that "she references every movie star, TV personality, or musician that she has ever encountered" to which I say "Dude, what book were YOU reading?" Yes, there are pop culture references, and there's a reason for that which I'll get to in a minute, but unless Emma Goldman has her own talk show, or Frank Lloyd Wright is alive and well and fronting a rock band, I'm gonna say that this accusation is way off the mark. Of course this is the same reviewer who says "At times it seems that she is making up reasons to tell stories of something that have nothing to do with the topic of the book." and for that I have to thank him because he's hit upon an important fact about Ms Vowell's approach -- pop culture references and all -- to her topic. This book is about connecting to these people and events. It's not a sit-down-and-be-quiet-this-is-HISTORY-book, it's a lively and very personal exploration of events that are important to Vowell, important enough to spend a lot of time, energy and money pursuing. And yes, I did connect with the events in ways I never thought possible. And the people. Though I'd never before even considered the assassins (with the exception of Booth, and then only in passing) I found myself annoyed with Booth and his idiotic Southern jingoism, both amused and horrified by Guiteau who was most probably certifiable, and vaguely sorry for Czolgosz, who, apart from his unpronounceable name ("Sszholgoats? He's a foreigner, so what can you expect?" He wasn't.) pretty much remained a sad non-entity in spite of his world-changing action.
As with all things, your mileage may vary, and you might hate the way Vowell writes. You might want a nice, dry recitation of facts and figures, and if so, cool, more power to you. But if you enjoy a reverently irreverent point of view, and a narrative that bespeaks a curious and lively mind, then check out Sarah Vowell.
Predictably, Lincoln's chapter is the longest. He's the best-known of the three, and possibly the only one still truly mourned in this country. But much of the narrative is about following the trail of John Wilkes Booth from the time where he plotted with other southerners to kidnap President Lincoln, through the actual assassination in Ford's Theater (Booth timed his shot to a line in the play which always produced a good deal of laughter, so that the report from his gun would be less noticed. Clearly it was his intention to escape, but in choosing that moment, he shot the President in the middle of a good belly laugh, and I don't think I'm alone in believing that if you have to be mortally wounded or killed, it's not a bad note on which to go out.) along the path of his flight, during which Vowell becomes convinced of the guilt of Dr. Mudd, and finally to being burned out of a barn and dying shortly thereafter, in great agony, a fact which was underlined, probably with a measure of satisfaction, in the official report of his death. It's also in this chapter that Vowell introduces us to Robert Todd Lincoln who could easily have been considered a Presidential jinx for her was at or near all three of the assassinations Vowell writes about. (Jinxy McDeath, as Vowell calls him in a note at the start of the final chapter.)
McKinley's chapter is most interesting for the portrait she paints of his successor, Teddy Roosevelt, a far more complex man that I'd ever imagined. But the surprise of the book by far, is the chapter on James A. Garfield, a man about whom I'd known next to nothing. (He was President, he was assassinated.) It turns out that this quiet man who never wanted to be President, was a man after my own heart, a man who would have preferred to go home and read than do anything else. Reading about how his political party attempted to manipulate and use him, made me feel very sad. That he rose to the occasion and chose to do what his conscience dictated made me like him all the more. I confess that after reading this chapter, I did a search to see if there were any Garfield libraries, feeling that it would be a shame if this man had never been commemorated by the one thing he would appreciate more than anything else, a library. As it happens, after his death, his widow had a wing added to the family home as a memorial library, and this is what set the precedent for all Presidential libraries. That's a cool legacy, in my opinion.
One of the things I like to do after I finish a book is to skim the reviews here on Amazon.com to see what others thought of it. I do note that there are a number of one-star reviews which seem kind of cranky about Ms. Vowell's politics, though they play very little part in her actual reporting of the facts of these assassinations, in my opinion, so I can only conclude that they simply don't like her because she's a liberal and it has nothing to do with the stories she's telling. Knee-jerk politics at its best.
One reviewer complains that "she references every movie star, TV personality, or musician that she has ever encountered" to which I say "Dude, what book were YOU reading?" Yes, there are pop culture references, and there's a reason for that which I'll get to in a minute, but unless Emma Goldman has her own talk show, or Frank Lloyd Wright is alive and well and fronting a rock band, I'm gonna say that this accusation is way off the mark. Of course this is the same reviewer who says "At times it seems that she is making up reasons to tell stories of something that have nothing to do with the topic of the book." and for that I have to thank him because he's hit upon an important fact about Ms Vowell's approach -- pop culture references and all -- to her topic. This book is about connecting to these people and events. It's not a sit-down-and-be-quiet-this-is-HISTORY-book, it's a lively and very personal exploration of events that are important to Vowell, important enough to spend a lot of time, energy and money pursuing. And yes, I did connect with the events in ways I never thought possible. And the people. Though I'd never before even considered the assassins (with the exception of Booth, and then only in passing) I found myself annoyed with Booth and his idiotic Southern jingoism, both amused and horrified by Guiteau who was most probably certifiable, and vaguely sorry for Czolgosz, who, apart from his unpronounceable name ("Sszholgoats? He's a foreigner, so what can you expect?" He wasn't.) pretty much remained a sad non-entity in spite of his world-changing action.
As with all things, your mileage may vary, and you might hate the way Vowell writes. You might want a nice, dry recitation of facts and figures, and if so, cool, more power to you. But if you enjoy a reverently irreverent point of view, and a narrative that bespeaks a curious and lively mind, then check out Sarah Vowell.
