October 10, 2006
Review: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke ::
books — tagged alternate history, books, fantasy, magic and susanna clarke
9:28 am
Some books launch a thousand other media projects, and Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell is one of those books. Since Jonathan Strange’s release in September, 2004, there has been a fan club, a movie deal, and a second book of stories by Susanna Clarke, which is scheduled for release in, hey, just a few days now. Coming in at just about 800 pages, Jonathan Strange deserves much of the acclaim it has received. But on the other hand, for all its density, imagination, intricate, interrlated subplots and characters, the book lacked an real sense of deep character, authentic emotion or social commentary that would otherwise connect a reader to what was happening in the story. So ultimately, while the book was a great read, it was not, unfortunately, a truly great novel.
So, for the unitiated, here’s the background: Mr Norrell is an old curmudgeon of a magician, whiling away his early 19th Century life of privilege in his library at a creepy old abbey, where he practices magic and shares it with no one. Then one day a society of non-practicing magicians (called “theoretical magicians” in the book) discover Mr. Norrell, and are astounded by his abilities. Soon Mr. Norrell moves his project to London, where he hopes to aid the British government in the Napoleonic Wars. He finds some success through his efforts, and eventually gains the patronage of a government minister after raising the minister’s bride-to-be from the dead. Then one day a second practical magician, (you guessed it) Jonathan Strange comes in. Though odd-looking, he is everything Mr. Norrell isn’t—young, dashing, open about his abilities and, much to Norrell’s consternation, very liberal about exposing the general public to magical knowledge. Mr. Norrell takes Strange on as a pupil, and it is clear early on that Strange’s abilities far outpace his teacher’s. The ensuing tension between the two heroes becomes the fundamental plot dynamic for the rest of the book, and at that point we’re only about a third of the way through it. So needless to say, we have a long way to go, so there should be something worthwhile to fill up those pages.
And as I mentioned already, there is quite a bit to fill up those pages. The book is impeccably well-thought out, and there are some truly excellent references to historical figures. Those fine touches give the reader an odd feeling, like you’re watching the Clarke’s alternate history brush up against our own and, like a character in Jonathan Strange who might at one point stumble across one of the Fairy Roads, you get the feeling that you’ve found something that had always been there, hidden in plain sight. But at the end of it all, none of the characters really stand out or distinguish themselves. Rather, they all use much of the same stock language to describe a set of very simple, almost juvenile emotions (e.g., he was sad when his new wife died, frustrated when the spell didn’t work, fearful of the growing cloud of ravens coming his way, etc.). So you don’t see emotion, you just have to take the characters at their word that they’re feeling something. Maybe that’s the author’s point, but if it is, I’m not exactly clear on what she might be getting at, or why emotional flatness is so significant.
I’m maybe being a little too tough on Susanna Clarke. I should temper my criticisms with the reality that there is no chance I could ever pull off a book like this, even if given the rest of my life to try. At the end of those nearly 800 pages, Jonathan Strange was a big, complicated book, but it was also clearly a first book, and one that misses many of the nuances that it takes time to both see and express as an author. It will be interesting to see where Susanna Clarke goes from here. And like I mentioned already, we’ll find out when her new book comes out on October 16th.
October 2, 2006
On this quiet morning, you can almost hear the gavel bang ::
legal — tagged abortion, books, equalprotection, legal, politics and SCOTUS
8:07 am
Well, not literally, because according to the Supreme Court calendar oral arguments don’t start up until tomorrow morning. (Which is actually good news because it will give me a chance to catch up on some of the more interesting cases that the court will be hearing this term.) And as Linda Greenhouse notes in this piece in the NY Times, the court will hear some very important cases this term—namely ones dealing with Congress’ Partial Birth Abortion Ban and two schools’ efforts to acheive racial integration in their schools. My take on the two consolidated cases, distilled into one (long) sentence: It’s hard to tell how the abortion cases (summaries here and here) will turn out; however, if the two school integration cases (summaries here and here) wind up standing it may be for the wrong reasons—that is, local control—and not the right ones—i.e., a more honest application of Equal Protection that has less to do with absolute race blindness and more to do with achieving racial equality after hundreds of years of slavery, segregation, and all the disparities that come with them.
With the oncoming October term, our minds should also turn to the thoughts of fun legal reading. And to fill that mental need comes this 600+ page tome on the life of many a liberal lawyer’s hero, Justice Earl Warren. Apparently, far from painting Warren as a standards-bearer for liberal legal causes, Justice for All: Earl Warren and the Nation He Made doesn’t shy away from the type of figure Warren cut before he made it onto the court:
...Warren was an almost stereotypical Republican before joining the high court. As Jim Newton reveals in his meticulously researched and well-told new biography, “Justice for All,” Warren was a zealous prosecutor, passionately anti-Communist, pro-business, anti-New Deal, anti-gambling, anti-pornography, tough on crime (his father was murdered in their Bakersfield home in 1938), and he favored interning California’s Japanese and their American-born children after Pearl Harbor.
How interesting! One assertion I made in the past was that it was precisely because Republicans of the 1950’s had no political ties to Southern segregationists that they had the freedom to act as both their conscience and the Constitution required them to. Based on the review, it sounds that Warren’s actions once he got on the court were quite consistent with that. But we’ll see what I think after I read the book.
September 30, 2006
Bush’s (and Woodward’s) State of Denial ::
politics — tagged books, bush, iraq, politics and waronterror
9:47 am
I started my weekend catch-up-on-the-news routine with finding out that Bob Woodward has a new book coming out, State of Denial, which is apparently is much more critical of the Bush Administration’s handling of his job—from Iraq and the War on Terror to just about everything else the President has been demanding unchecked authority to control—than anything else Woodward has previously written. Apparently Republicans, particularly members of the administration, are in damage control mode. And I would be to if I had to deal with anecdotes such as these:
Laura Bush telling her husband he should fire Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld. Vice President Cheney pushing aides to call the chief weapons inspector in the middle of the night with coordinates for a site in Syria that might have those elusive weapons. Secret White House visits by Henry Kissinger. Bush having to tell Rumsfeld to return Condoleezza Rice’s calls. Memos describing Rumsfeld’s “rubber glove syndrome”—he didn’t want to leave fingerprints on decisions.
Ouch. What’s funny is that I noted Woodward’s use of anecdotes in my review of The Brethren. On the one hand the device is useful for telling a compelling story, but on the other hand it sometime seems that Woodward will lay them on too thick, the story at some point becoming more about Woodward and the amount of access he has than it does about the subjects of his stories or the value of investigative journalism in holding elected officials to account. The effect is similar to that of too much mayonaise on your sandwich: what should be just one flavor and texture of the experience becomes the whole experience, and it’s a pretty nauseating one. But what’s particularly interesting here is Woodward’s central theme in his book:
He charges the president has not been straight with the American people about how bad things are in Iraq and how much worse it’s going to get. But his most damning claim—screaming at you right there in the title—is not that Bush is deceitful; it’s that he’s clueless. People many not care if Bush admits reality to the public, but they hope he’s admitting reality to himself.
Yeah, no kidding. My guess? The book will be worth reading because it sounds like Woodward’s first honest account of what’s probably been a reality of Bush administration culture since Bush took office in 2001. But publishing the book likely comes at the expense of Woodward losing the access he he formerly enjoyed with the Bush people. So I guess that means he’ll be going back to his old style of writing while hoping for an understanding candidate taking the White House in 2008.
September 27, 2006
The Devil and the White City by Erik Larsen ::
books — tagged books, chicago, crime and history
1:27 pm
Here it is, The Devil and the White City, another in a long line of pop history books I love to read. And yes, as is the case with anything written by Simon Winchester or Mark Kurlansky, I read this book in something like three days. The speed with which I got through this was just as much a testament to my love of the pop history genre as it is to Erik Larsen’s mastery of writing within it. Which reminds me: I have this vision of the publishing industry employing armies of editors and marketing geniuses who hunt down these authors and vet them for exactly the right sort of talent and story ideas, and then run the story through an editorial machine in order to create another book that really is the same—if only in form, not subjectmatter—as all the others I’ve read. And I consume them like processed food.
But getting all that cynicism about marketing out of the way, the book was really quite gripping, and everything that all your friends said it was who talked to you about it at that last dinner party. The story is a study in contrasts, really—on the one hand you had Daniel Burnham, an accomplished yet decidedly non-Ivy-League-Educated architect with something to prove who is charged with building the World’s Columbian Exhibition in Chicago, on the other H. H. Holmes, a serial killer trained in medicine who used his knowledge and skills in some of the most gruesome ways imaginable. What tied the two worlds together was the utter lack of rules of Chicago in the 1890’s. It was only in such an environment that you could see the extremes of both individual and societal behavior that was emblematic of pre-progressive era America.
In many ways Chicago was a pioneer city of the time, where a lack of environmental, health and safety, and business regulations allowed the owners of the Worlds Fair to construct it so quickly and without regard to the impact it would have on those building it. And the lack of law enforcement allowed a serial killer to remain undetected and act so brazenly for so long. The lawlessness of the time made me appreciate the relative safety of our current regulatory state, and the increased quality of life it has brought. But it is in that crucible of extremes that a truly great story was able to take shape. So go and enjoy it.
Related:
- The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester: review
- Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky: review
- Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World by Mark Kurlansky: review
- 1968 by Mark Kurlansky: review
September 6, 2006
Collapse by Jared Diamond ::
books — tagged books, civilization, energy, environment, history and sustainability
9:37 pm
So in his book Collapse, Jared Diamond is back, and is just as thorough and expansive in his writing as he was in his previous work, Guns, Germs, and Steel. Only this time around, he focuses on how societies collapse rather than how they grow and flourish. Although reading the book takes a lot of work—I took about a month and a half to read it, while studying for the bar and reading other books—reading it is definitely well worth the effort. Not only does Jared Diamond once again forge a unique path when trying to explain the phenomenon of collapsing societies, he does a great job of speaking authoritatively, backing up all of his assertions with solid research and compelling stories of how societies decide to either work to preserve their resources and protect their environment or forge ahead with unsustainable lifestyles that ultimately result their demise.
Jared Diamond focuses first on a set of historical societies, including the Easter Islanders, the Anasazi, the Greenland Norse, and describes the mistakes those societies made that, after they went uncorrected, led to their destruction. Those decisions included mass deforestation, unsustainable agricultural practices, and—interestingly—a strange compulsion for certain societies to want to preserve an “old way” of living that was completely incompatible with their new environment. With regard to that last decision, an example that stuck out in my mind were the Greenland Norse, who brought the Norse way of living, the Norse form of agriculture, with them when they attempted to set up a society in Greenland. They found it impossible to sustain such a lifestyle there, and refused to adopt any of the ways of life of the Inuit people already inhabiting the island, even though those people had (slightly) more success in surviving in the inhospitable environment. In each of these examples, it appeared that the ancient societies were faced with a choice of either continuing their course of action, or making fundamental changes in their collective behavior, which could ultimately avert disaster. In many cases, the societies ultimately chose the former, which resulted in their society’s, well, collapse.
Diamond also discusses examples of societies that made decisions that ultimately allowed the socity to continue on and prosper. One example was Japan, which faced a substantial deforestation problem at one point in its history, but which is now one of the most heavily forested industrialized countries in the world, because of what Diamond describes as “top-down” decision making. As the name implies, there was one governing body that made the central decision to protect the country’s forests. Another option that Diamond discusses is the more bottom-up or collective approach to problem solving, which I personally found more attractive (I am, after all, a Vermonter at heart), which has also proven to be historically effective in preserving societies.
Ultimately, all of this discussion of historical societies then turns to a discussion of modern examples of societies that faced the same types of decisions those historical societies did. These modern examples had very similar outcomes, only with modern socities the stakes are always much higher—mostly because, unlike the ancient societies, countries no longer live or die in isolation. Because of globalization, the bad decisions that any single nation makes will ultimately have an effect on the broader global community. This is why the book is ultimately so important. If the human race is going to continue, the individual choices that not only individuals and communities, but entire nations, make will have a profound effect on the ultimate survival of humanity.
September 1, 2006
Fortress of Solitude by Jonathan Lethem ::
books — tagged books, brooklyn, childhood, drugs, fantasy and vermont
3:13 pm
I am falling behind on my book reviews. But I hope to get caught up in the next few days.
Fortress of Solitude was one of those books I felt like I was reading for weeks, but when I look back on it, it only took me four days to read the book. This was partly because I was reading it while I was travelling out to San Francisco; but mostly, it was because of the density of the story and Lethem’s abilty to really grip the reader with a compelling narrative and realistic, complex characters that defy the stereotypes found in most novels.
Fortress of Solitude follows the life of Dylan Ebdus and his friend Mingus Rude as they grow up in pre-gentrified, 1970’s Brooklyn. Starting from when Dylan was five, we follow him as he grows into adolescence and then into adulthood. And while there are elements of the fantastical (Lethem has been given to such narrative devices going all the way back to his Hard Boiled/Sci-Fi mash-up romp, Gun with Occasional Music), the story line is compelling not so much because of the extraordinary events within it, but because of Lethem’s finely-tuned ability to take what seems to be the ordinary events in everyday life—a mother leaving her husband and son or a kid shaken down for his lunch money—and rendering them in such a way that reveals their emotional spiritual, and artistic signficance. We see Dylan as a child, going to an almost all African-American elementary school; see him fall in love with comic books, then R & B music, then the New York Punk Rock/New Wave scene; we see him become enamored of the 1980’s drug scene, first in New York and then at college in Vermont; we see him succeed academically, almost always against his will. We find Dylan’s childhood is so wrapped up in conflict and so spiritually exhausting that it becomes almost like an addiction, to the point that, when Dylan is an adult and he no can no longer rely on all of the sadness, fear and anger of his childhood that he is left feeling, well empty. And with all that, I found myself reading on, dying to know how, as a 35-year-old, he was going to fill the void. And if you want to find out how, you just have to read the book yourself.
Every novelist—or at least every male novelist—seems to have some obligation, or maybe a compulsion, to write a coming-of-age tale that is in fact a thinly-vieled autobiography. Some novelists are better than others at telling a story that is in fact worth reading. With Fortress of Solitude, Lethem definitely falls into the “better” category. Whether my conclusion is based on the broad appeal of Lethem’s story telling abilities or just my identifying with much of what he values and finds emotionally substantial isn’t exactly clear to me. But at the end of the story, I felt close to the adult Dylan Ebdus, and for all his flaws wanted him as a friend. So the reasons don’t really matter, I think. And more importantly, I really can’t think of a better compliment for an author’s abilities.
May 31, 2006
Review: Strong Motion by Jonathan Franzen ::
books — tagged books, environment, fiction, Jonathan Franzen, love story, Massachusetts and Somerville
8:47 pm
I neglected to mention that two weeks ago I read my first post-JD novel. And I must say that Strong Motion was a great way to get into recreational reading, even if my foray was cut short by studying for the Vermont Bar.
But seriously: what a great book. Before writing this, I went back to check my review of The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen’s other, perhaps better-known book. And although it seems from that review that I enjoyed it much more than I remember, I have to say that Strong Motion was even better. In addition to the complicated characters and emotionally intense personal narratives, this book has a much more plot-centered structure, which I have grown to appreciate more as I’ve gotten older. Not only that, but the plot is particularly compelling: a corporation’s dumping of toxic chemicals into a four-mile deep shaft in Peabody, Massachussetts leads to earthquakes throughout the greater Boston area. So in addition to having the characters drive me ever forward in reading the story, I also had an impending environmental disaster to add to the tension. In the end, I didn’t even question whether such a situation were actually not scientifically feasible.
Throughout my adult life, I have been searching for novels that most accurately describe what I consider to be the Generation X condition. Although no author could render that condition perfectly, Franzen does come up with a compelling narrative, combining loneliness, advancing technology, abortion politics, environmental degredation, overconsumption, and unregulated business into a cohesive story that constantly makes me say, “yeah, this is what life is really like.” And what’s particularly amazing is that Franzen wrote this book back in 1992. I only wish I’d taken the time to read this book sooner.
February 28, 2006
Civil Rights and Liberalism ::
books — tagged books, civil rights, legal and social conscience
10:41 am
To me, the best book reviews are the ones that use a book as a starting-off point for a larger discussion about one of the book’s central themes. A truly great review is one that actually adds something to the book, which I wouldn’t have picked up on had I just read the book on its own. Interestingly, those reviews actually stand on their own, and are worth reading in their own right, even if I never pick up the book being discussed. Now, I don’t know if it’s an example of a great review, but yesterday I read this article on At Canaan’s Edge, Taylor Branch’s last installment of his three-part civil rights history, America During the King Years. What caught my eye about the review was how Benjamin Wallace-Wells ties the end of the King era to the problems facing Liberalism today:
King was just as right when he preached against the problems of the black slum or the repressive working conditions visited upon trash collectors as he was when he summoned a great moral awakening to confront the white Southern forces that kept blacks from voting. But the conflict between evil and good was not nearly so evident. Reading about King’s frustrated efforts, you can see where it’s headed. In hindsight, we anticipate the liberal politics that will mobilize behind the failed assumption that the country will invest in the condition of women or workers or the environment with the same moral vigor that led to the successes of King’s civil rights movements.
From my pespective, it is a rare social leader who is able to conjure up the same moral force that King was able to. Especially during this small slice of history in which I find myself. Indeed, in these times Liberals do in fact find themselves in a tough position, because they are at the same time so sure about the rightness of their position, yet have a hard time making that sense of rightness palpable to those who might not otherwise agree with them.
January 11, 2006
Review: Motherless Brooklyn by Jonathan Lethem ::
books — tagged books, brooklyn, fiction, jonathan lethem, nyc and tourettes syndrome
8:56 pm
So, it took me about seven years or so, but I finally read Jonathan Lethem’s Motherless Brooklyn. Lethem’s writing style fits well with my short attention span—he’s able to communicate a lot of information through is text, and keeps up the pace of his story-telling that also keeps me interested. His characters are also delightfully quirky and unpredictable, and I’m always interested to see what they will do next. Case in point: Lionel Essrog, the main character of the novel, is a private investigator with Tourette’s Syndrome, who grew up an orphan in Brooklyn under the care local criminal big-shot Frank Minna. Minna is killed early in the story, and Lionel spends the rest of the narrative investigating the murder. But Lionel’s verbal and physical tics, as well as his unskilled approach to investigation, lead to some bizarre interactions with other characters, which became the main focus of the story for me. Although the narrative structure of the story is definitely a Raymond Chandler-type mystery, I was so focused on the curious nature of Lionel’s character that I would lose sight of the storyline, until I hit a point that pushed the story forward and reminded me that the story did indeed have a structure, it wasn’t just a string of Tourretic interactions with the world. In that regard, it was really a perfect book.
At the end of the day, Motherless Brooklyn will not be on my all-time favorites list, but the book was perfect for our flight down to Alabama and back home. During that time I was able to really get involved with the quest of the story’s hero. But when I finished the book, I didn’t find myself thinking about it too much. In that regard I also found the book worthwhile—it exceeded every one of my expectations, but didn’t expect too much from me in return.
January 2, 2006
David Hackett Souter ::
books — tagged books, david souter, legal and SCOTUS
6:44 pm
Over the past week and a half, I’ve been enjoying not reading much of anything at all. But when I have been reading, I’ve been working my way through this biography of Justice David Souter which, if you enjoy a good Supreme Court story, you’ll probably like as well. What’s particularly interesting about Tinsley Yarbrough’s narrative is how intensely personal it is, despite the fact that he was unable to interview Justice Souter or his clerks directly (as the book points out, Souter is legendary guarding his privacy). But more interestingly, the book does a great job of contrasting Souter’s judicial conservativism—which includes a high respect for precedent and a very process-oriented approach to deciding cases—with the political conservaivism of other Justices on the Court who are more ready to overturn cases with which they do not agree. During my time at law school, at which I’ve learned more about the legal process generally and the Supreme Court specifically, I’ve come to find that Souter’s moderately conservative legal approach to cases—which many times leads him to politically liberal conclusions—plays an important role on the current Court, which at times has been all too willing to throw out longstanding precedent to achieve a desired (and mostly conservative) outcome. And Yarbrough’s book does a great job of explaining how Justice Souter became the complex and thoughtful Justice that he is today.
August 14, 2005
Unlikely Heroes ::
books, legal — tagged books, civil rights, conlaw, judicial appointments and legal
3:44 pm
This weekend, I finally finished Unlikely Heroes, by Jack Bass, which chronicles the story of Four Federal Appeals Court judges in the Fifth Circuit, who took on the daunting task of implementing the Supreme Court’s second Brown v. Board of Education decision (Brown II), which required segregated school systems be dismantled “with all deliberate speed” and authorized lower court judges to implement desegregation orders using “equitable principles.”
Such a task was not easy. On top of receiving vague orders from the U.S. Supreme Court, southern federal judges faced an complex, entrenched political system that institutionalized racism and subverted the civil rights of an entire class of people. Additionally, recalcitrant local officials—not to mention other judges—deliberately dragged their feet in following the orders handed down by the federal courts. But the judges chronicled in Unlikely Heroes overcame that challenge, and operated in a manner that was true to history, true to the Constitution, and true to their own sense of what was right. As the Author, Jack Bass, talks of Judge John Minor Wisdom, one of the committed desegregationist judges on the Fifth Circuit during the Brown II era:
But rare is the judge who possesses the knowledge of history and philosophy, commands the intellect and imagination, feels the sene of justice and moral imperative, and displays the integrity and courage that all combine in a single case to transform law and make a permanent impact on the legal process. Fate smiled when a judge named Wisdom not only transformed the law of school desegration in U.S. v. Jefferson, but provided the historical and philosophical foundation that placed it in the context of a larger issue.
Keeping in mind that the desegregation requirements in Brown would have meant very little if it had been ignored by the southern states and in the southern courts, the fact that Judges Wisdom, Elbert Tuttle, John R. Brown and Richard Rives were all sitting on the Fifth Circuit at the same time was truly providential. And while I do not diminish the ongoing racial intolerance that plagues American society, the fact that we have progressed so much from the segregated world before Brown is in no small part the result of the work done by these judges.
Finally, to bring the importance of this book into modern times: in the next few weeks, the Senate will be gearing for the confirmation hearings for Judge Roberts. Although I do not want to play down the importance of his potential confirmation to issues surrounding civil rights and constitutional law, at the end of the day, the judges and the courts that will have the most immediate effect on those rights are those who must take the high level, many times vague directives of the Supreme Court and apply them to the very specific facts of the situation they face in a particular case. It is in that scenario that the true meaning of a Supreme Court decision is truly born out. And in order for the decision to truly mean something—especially in the realm civil rights for an historically opressed class of citizens—a lower court judge must stare down the inequities and the hatered of an entire society. Doing that takes true heroism.
So, in short: don’t sell short the importance of inferior courts. In many ways they are just as important—if not moreso—than the Supreme Court.
Check out Unlikely Heroes at Powell’s.
July 2, 2005
On Justice Blackmun ::
books, legal — tagged books, civil rights, legal and SCOTUS
6:04 pm
So, with all the hype surrounding the Supreme Court over the past week (enjoy it now, because it won’t last long), I’ve been somewhat distracted with reading Linda Greenhouse’s Becoming Justice Blackmun, which I thought was just a great book.
While I don’t want to use this space to write a full-blown book review, I wanted to call attention to Justice Blackmun’s dissent in DeShaney v. Winnebago County Department of Social Services (the so called “Poor Joshua dissent”). In that case, a young boy named Joshua DeShaney was abused repeatedly by his father. The county social services agency was aware of Joshua’s living conditions, and repeatedly ignored all the signs of his abuse. Ultimately, Joshua’s father injured him so badly that he suffered severe injuries, including profound brain damage that left him mentally retarded.
In the resulting case, a majority of the Supreme Court decided that Joshua and his mother could not bring a suit against the negligent state actors. The majority’s argument—which was as hard-hearted as it sounds—was that the Constitution and Civil Rights laws covered state action, not state inaction. In that now-famous dissent, Blackmun wrote:
It is a sad commentary on upon American life, and constitutional principles—so full of late of patriotic fervor and pround proclamations about “liberty and justice for all—that this child, Joshua DeShaney, now is assigned to live out the entire remainder of his life profoundly retarded. Joshua and his mother, as petitioners here, deserve—but now are denied by this Court—the opportunity to have the facts of their case considered in light of the constitutional protections that [the Civil Rights statute] Section 1983 is meant to provide.
Oh, how the harsh realities of American life continue. In the face of empty patriotism, Justice Blackmun grew to realize the power of the law, and what the courts could—and should—do to protect the most vulnerable members of our society. As we gear up for a the first new appointment of a Supreme Court justice in over a decade, I can only hope that whoever the new nominee is has a journey that is half as signficant as Justice Blackmun’s.
December 28, 2004
Lincoln At Gettysburg ::
books — tagged books, conlaw, history, legal, lincoln and politics
9:52 pm
Last semester, my legal writing professor made a practice of starting off our Monday classes with a “featured book of the week.” The event was about what you would expect — he would take thirty seconds to introduce a book, say why it was good, and half-jokingly suggest that we try to read it when we had the chance. (He knew that as law students, we had our noses buried in casebooks for the duration of the semester.) But I wrote down the titles of all the books he suggested, and made a commitment to read at least one of them over the break.
Happily, I can now say that I fulfilled that commitment by finishing Lincoln at Gettysburg. Overall I enjoyed it. The author, Garry Wills, was quite adept at discussing President Lincoln’s mindset without venturing into the realm of psychological biography (a genre for which I’ve found I have very little tolerance). The more compelling points of the book include a discussion of the American fascination with death in general — and cemeteries in particular — during the 1860’s; a refined analysis of Lincoln’s conception of the Confederacy and the Civil War (Lincoln considered the Confederate states still a part of the Union, held temporarily under the sway of a few reckless Confederate leaders).
But the most compelling part of the book was the effect that the Gettysburg Address has had on the way Americans conceive of the Constitution. Wills makes the argument that the Address now stands as the modern understanding of the Constitution. Before that speech, the Constitution was widely viewed as accepting slavery as a base political reality. It was silent on the issue of whether or not slavery was moral. But Lincoln, basing his logic on the Declaration of Independence, made clear that such an institution was in fact intolerable to the Constitution, because ultimately, it committed the nation to equality.
Interestingly, this radical departure from the norms of the mid-19th century has its detractors as well. To this day, a national commitment to equality exists to the consternation of the original intent theorists. As an example, Wills notes the legal minds such as Edwin Meese and Robert Bork, who argue that a national commitment to equality had been “sneaked into the Constitution.” When viewed in this light, the original intent school are really put out in the cold. For example, I would be astonished to find even the most conservative members of the Bush Administration advocating the position that equality should not be a “national commitment.” According to Wills,
the professors, the textbooks, the politicians, the press have overwhelmingly accepted Lincoln’s vision. The Gettysburg Address has become an authoritative expression of the American spirit — as authoritative as the Declaration itself, and perhaps even more influential, since it determines how we read the Declaration. For most people now the Declaration means what Lincoln told us it means, as a way of correcting the Constitution itself without overthrowing it.
As a final note: I’ve been learning the extent of Lincoln’s talents as a constitutional lawyer. This, of course, has had both good and bad effects. On the one hand, he was able to force Americans to reconceptualize the Constitution as a document that was intolerant of slavery (rather than one that accepts it as a political reality). But, as I’ve learned in the current book I’m reading, he was also able to use his skills to justify the limitation — or complete removal — of civil rights during wartime. I sometimes wonder if such a person could be elected to national office at this point in history.
