F.C. Schaefer's Blog

I first read Stephen King’s THE STAND way back in the day after finding a paperback copy of the 1978 edition on the rack at a drug store. Being fairly new to King at the time, I was not quite prepared for the wild ride his apocalyptic story took me on, where a super flu wipes out most of the population of America in a matter of weeks, leaving a sundry group of survivors to reckon with the aftermath. From page one, I was totally emersed in this world, and the fates of the characters in a way so profound that I was truly depressed when I got to the last page, and there was no more story to read. Little did I know that over 500 pages had been cut from King’s original manuscript that he turned into the publisher, one which totaled over 1200 pages. This was done for economic reasons as it was feared that the costs of putting out a hardback book of such length would drive the price higher than readers would be willing to pay—King being fairly knew to the bestseller lists at the time. Fast forward a decade or so to the end of the ‘80s, a time when Stephen King could have published his collected grocery lists and it would have gone to the #1 spot on the New York Times bestsellers list, where King and his publishers, knowing an opportunity when it was in front of them, published an “Uncut and Complete” edition of THE STAND, with most of the original pages restored, along with some tweaking and updating of the story by setting it in 1990 (the original hardback and paperbacks were set in 1980 and1985 respectively).

This Constant Reader picked up a mammoth paperback copy of the “Uncut and Complete” edition many years back with every intention of reading it, but somehow never got around to making the commitment to crack open the first page and proceed. It was a feeling that you can’t go home again, and you can’t read a great novel for the first time ever again as well. But with the recent publication of THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT: NEW TALES OF STEPHEN KING’S THE STAND, an anthology that acts as a sequel of sorts to King’s book, I decided the time was right to plunge into the unabridged original and swim for it.

First of all, in any form, THE STAND remains one of the most compelling books ever written, one that hooked me right from the start. The story unfolds in three stages, with the first, taking up the first three hundred or so pages, detailing how an accidental leak at a government weapons research lab leads to an outbreak of a deadly super flu that kills off over 99% of the population in a matter of weeks. We meet various characters from across America, both good and bad, who are caught up in this viral apocalypse as modern civilization evaporates around them. I fully agree with all those who say this part of the book is some of the best writing King ever did, a masterpiece of building dread and horror as the reader anticipates just how bad things could get, and then shocked when King makes them even worse, and by worse, I mean being the lone survivor in a penitentiary locked in a cell where all the other inmates and guards are dead and rotting around you. The book shifts gears in the middle section where the “good” survivors gather in Boulder, Colorado, and try to restart society, and the pacing does slow down considerably, but when the action shifts to the “bad guys” who have gathered in Las Vegas in the third part, it really jump starts the book again, and sets the stage for King’s controversial finale.

There are a number of things which made THE STAND so special among King’s many, many novels, not the least being a strong theme of how the old world, the one that gave birth to the super flu, destroyed itself, and how the survivors must now find some path forward that doesn’t recreate the society that committed suicide and make the same mistakes. The death of the old world seemingly gives birth to a new reality where an Old Testament white and dark magic have returned. These two opposites are symbolized by Mother Abigail Fremantle, a 108-year-old Black woman in Nebraska, and Randall Flagg, a flesh and blood embodiment of evil. In the wake of the apocalypse, both of these individuals appear in the dreams of the survivors, who then have to choose which side they will stand with, the light or the dark. The subjects of faith and certainty appear frequently as different characters embrace the light or are tempted by Flagg’s blandishments, and King does play this drama expertly.
Another thing that makes THE STAND so memorable is the huge cast of characters rendered so believable by King’s prose. Stu Redman, a laconic Texan; Frannie Goldsmith, a pregnant young woman; Larry Underwood, a rock star with personal demons; Nick Andros, a young deaf-mute hitchhiking across the country; Tom Cullen, a mentally handicapped man; Harold Lauder, an awkward teenager; Nadine Cross, a woman who shares a secret bond with Flagg; Lloyd Henried, a petty lowlife criminal—truly live and breathe on the pages. The length of the book allows for supporting players like Glen Bateman, Judge Farris, Ralph Brentner, and that awful Julie Lawry, to leave a real impression. We come to know their strengths and weaknesses, fears and desires, and flaws so well that they feel like family. And nobody can create memorable psychos like Stephen King, and THE STAND has two of his best: Donald Merwin Elbert aka The Trashcan Man, a pyromaniac freed to live out his most depraved desires after the super flu, and The Kid, a greaser incarnation of Charlie Starkweather, who gives the Trashcan Man a lift west part of the way to Vegas before joining up with Flagg. The long section dealing with the Trashcan Man and The Kid’s road trip was one of the things cut out of the original version and then restored in the unabridged edition. Though it adds greatly to the narrative, it also feels like something that might have worked better standing alone in a short story or novella, one where a hapless hitcher gets picked up by the ghost of Starkweather. Though The Kid’s origin is never explained, I like to think he really is the 1950s most infamous spree killer restored to life by the dark magic as it came back into the world.
One of the things I really admire about THE STAND is King’s mastery of the omniscient third party POV—the “all knowing narrator” as it is called—to tell this story with so many characters and constantly shifting POVs. This is necessary because there is no one main character, though some are far more prominent than others. And this allows King to play some real sadistic tricks on the reader when he casually drops hints about the fate of a character yet to be played out. “None of them ever saw Stu Redman again” hit like a punch to the gut the first time I read it, and it still hurts. And I’ll never hear the words “No great loss” again without thinking of the self-centered woman who accidently locks herself in a walk-in freezer after everyone dies.
The shifting of the book’s timeline can be an awkward fit as King wrote it in the mid to late ‘70s, and some of the tweaking he did in the “uncut and complete” edition to make it contemporary to 1990, like casual mentions of Ronald Reagan and Roger Rabbit, doesn’t add much to the story. And having Frannie and Harold listen to 45s of Shaun Cassidy and Lief Garrett on a battery powered record player in the height of the era of cassette tapes and the boombox seems totally out of place for the time, not to mention that both of those singers were has-beens even in the early ‘80s. There are also conspicuously no appearances of personal computers or cable TV, but that is nit-picking. Though I don’t believe that a song titled “Baby Can Dig Your Man” would have been a hit single any time after the early ‘70s.

One thing that is very jarring when reading THE STAND now is King’s intensely negative depiction of the American military, which in the book is used by the government to suppress knowledge of the weapons’ leak and the impending apocalypse. Soldiers point guns at the heads of TV anchors and newspaper editors, and summarily execute American citizens who become problems—at one point soldiers machine gun protesting college students in a recreation of the shootings at Kent State. In the end, the army comes apart along racial lines, and the last we see of it is Black and White soldiers slaughtering each other on live TV. The one survivor from the army, encountered by Stu and Frannie’s group later on, is revealed to be sexually abusing and torturing women. In THE STAND, the military is the tip of a spear wielded by a military industrial complex that in its hubris and incompetence, mass murdered the population it was supposed to defend. Like a lot of young people of his generation, Stephen King was very opposed to the Vietnam War, a fresh memory when he wrote the book, and that opposition often manifested itself in disdain for those who wore the uniform, and had no choice but to do what they were told. I think this attitude colored King’s writing, but it is harsh to read now in the era of “thank you for your service.”

King’s ending for THE STAND has come in for more than a little criticism over the years, many readers who love the rest of the book claim to be disappointed in it. I will concede that once you know how King came up with his resolution after running into writer’s block, it does read like something contrived, a literal deus ex machina in Las Vegas where the heroic protagonists make not a stand against Randall Flagg, but simply a sacrifice. All the way through the book, it feels if it is building toward a face-to-face showdown between Stu Redman and Flagg, but as often with Stephen King, expectations are subverted. Despite hearing the gears of plot grinding and turning loudly, I don’t have that much of a problem with the Big Bomb in Vegas, it does get the job done in a way that satisfies. It has been pointed out that King’s main priority when writing is his characters, the arcs they travel, where they start and where they end up, and this means the reader doesn’t always get a Hollywood blockbuster ending that perfectly sticks the landing.

Some of the restored scenes do not add that much to the narrative; I’m talking about the melt down Frannie’s mother has when she learns of her daughter’s pregnancy—it’s like something from a ‘50s soap opera—or the long jailhouse meeting Lloyd Henried has with his lawyer, though I do appreciate the final fate of General Starkey. The best part is the restored section concerning Tom and Nick’s narrow escape from a tornado is riveting. My favorite parts of the book might just be any scene with those two characters in it. And I have yet to forgive Stephen King for what he did to Nick Andros, but what great story doesn’t break your heart at some point. But my favorite sections of the book seem so much more deeper and richer in the “uncut and complete” edition: the decimated New York City seen through Larry Underwood’s eyes, along with his subsequent escape through the Holland tunnel; Nick’s harrowing stay in a small town in Arkansas as everyone dies around him; Mother Abigail’s trek to a neighbor’s farm for some fresh chickens to serve for dinner; and Stu and Tom’s grueling return to Boulder from the west in the dead of winter. One thing that hits differently now are the passages set in Vegas showing how formerly decent people knuckle under to Flagg’s rule when they know better, either out of fear, or expedience, or just drawn to a leader who asserts strength and power. Always liked how King did not make Randall Flagg some omnipotent Big Bad, he’s more sly and cunning and manipulating with a true huckster’s knowledge of what buttons to push to get what he wants—until things start to go bad. He’s the worst of the old world, and like it, the avarice for weapons of mass destruction is his undoing.

THE STAND is one of the founding works of the modern post-apocalypse genre, and along with MAD MAX, set the tropes that would inspire many others. How many times have we seen stories set in a world where civilization has fallen centering around communities of survivors going to war with each other. Would THE WALKING DEAD have existed without Stephen King’s novel? The Governor and Negan can honestly be said to be the bastard sons of Randall Flagg. I have not seen the 2020 streaming adaptation of THE STAND, but fondly remember the ABC TV mini-series from 1994; Rob Lowe was great as Nick Andros, and Corin Nemec almost made me feel sorry for Harold Lauder, and nobody but Bill Fagerbakke could play Tom Cullen so well. But Jamey Sheridan reminded me too much of a TV sitcom dad to be convincing as Randall Flagg, always thought Marjoe Gortner would have been a great choice for the part.

Why do so many Constant Reader’s put THE STAND at the top of their list of favorite King novels? I can only speak for myself, but I believe it is because this epic story remains his most accessible book. We all put ourselves in the story, and imagine what we would they do if a super flu killed everyone we knew, and were left to face a huge empty world with little more than our own wits. What stand would we make? Would it be with the light or the dark? It is a testament to the younger Stephen King’s talent that he pulled it off so masterfully, and gave us a novel that once it got hold of our imaginations, never really let go.

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My other alternate history novel, BEATING PLOWSHARES INTO SWORD: An Alternate History of the Vietnam War, can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/12RMOT5
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I first got into G.T.O (GREAT TEACHER ONIZUKA) way more than a decade ago when I got my hands on a couple of DVDs of the first episodes. The series had a reputation as one of the better anime, and those early episodes really drew me into the story and got me invested in the characters and their situations, but I didn’t follow up and finish the series until I came across it streaming free on Prime Video. And after binge watching the remaining episodes, I can certainly say it was more than worth it, and that G.T.O. really does live up to the hype even though it came out more than a quarter of a century ago now. The plot is built on a simple and enduring trope: the unorthodox teacher who breaks the rules and runs afoul of the school administration, but who turns out the be the only one who can reach a class of unruly, and heretofore, unteachable kids. It’s a trope that in America goes back to THE BLACKBOARD JUNGLE, and would later find a comfortable niche on network TV over the years with shows like WELCOME BACK KOTTER. But I think this particular trope was never done better than here in this anime.

The biggest strength of this series is its main protagonist, Eikichi Onizuka, a 22-year-old former juvenile delinquent and ex-member of a biker gang who somehow got through enough courses at a second-rate college to get a teaching certificate. A virgin in search of a girlfriend, he figured being a teacher would be good way to connect with hot chicks. Brimming with self-confidence, an athlete’s physique, and possessing nearly superhuman strength (whose limits will be put to the test more than once during the series) due to a daily workout regimen, Onizuka talks himself into a job at a Tokyo private academy. This lands him in front of a home room full of kids written off as hopeless, and the adventure takes off from there. Though Onizuka often acts far more immature than his teenage students, and is very impulsive, there is a method to his madness as he teaches his hard-luck kids some important life lessons. The show has a lot of physical comedy, but it also has plenty of genuine drama, and quite a bit of heart when it counts.

One of the things I really liked about G.T.O. is the animation style, which seems retro now, but has a look distinct to ‘90s anime. The series illustrators did a terrific job with the characters’ facial expressions, especially those of Onizuka himself, you always know what is going on in his head. The two different opening credit sequences are very notable for helping establish the tone of the series, define the character with some distinctive imagery, and back it up with some great rock theme music. The supporting cast of characters are very strong, starting with Onizuka’s students, who thankfully are not the snarky brats that appear in American high school sitcoms. There is the picked on shy kid who is very good at video games, and is saved from suicide by Onizuka. A trio of bullies become allies, the mean girls learn to be nicer, and the arrogant blonde girl with a genius IQ is won over to Onizuka’s side. I even rolled with the American accents for the characters in the dubbed version I watched, finding it funny that country people in Japan talk with Southern accents, while one of the boys in the class sounded exactly like Ted from BILL AND TED. What could be more ‘90s? There are a number of great story arcs centering on the problems of one character, the stand out for most being how Kanzaki, the girl genius, gets past her feelings of abandonment by a past teacher. My favorite is how Yoshikawa, the shy gaming nerd, finds romance on the class trip to Okinawa. And the funniest is one where Murai’s hot young mother (she gave birth to him when she was 13) appears to be getting married to an older man, and her son is not having it, while Onizuka wants to score with the hot mom himself.

There is one element of the show that may be a problem for some, and that is the way Onizuka makes no secret how he is most warm for any female form, and is prone to being “pervy” in his pursuit of women. Hot and bothered dudes with one thing on their minds, like Onizuka, were cancelled from American popular culture by the MeToo movement, and this series is certainly not for those who take offense easily.

G.T.O ended with 43 episodes, which really left me, and a lot of fans, wanting more. The manga continued the story for a couple more years, and had a different ending; many prefer the graphic novels to the anime adaptation, which fans of the manga say was watered down. Still, there are plenty of posts online, and more than a few Youtube videos, by people who say that G.T.O. really changed their lives when they first saw it as teenagers, how it inspired them to become teachers themselves, or make changes in their lives. Onizuka’s example of living life to the fullest and being true to yourself, not wasting time endlessly pleasing others, really connected. Watching the show now makes me a little nostalgic, I recognize that it has a verve and energy that was quite common in popular culture in the late ‘90s as the century was coming to an end, but it’s a vibe that didn’t survive long into the 21st Century. Our loss indeed. Anyway, if you are interested in getting into anime, but are not into superheroes, demon hunters, or pirates, G.T.O. is an excellent place to start.

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My alternate history novel ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964 can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m
and on Smashwords at: http://bit.ly/2kAoiAH

My other alternate history novel, BEATING PLOWSHARES INTO SWORD: An Alternate History of the Vietnam War, can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/12RMOT5
and on Draft2Digital at: https://bit.ly/1iuzXXf

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I first saw THE DIRTY DOZEN at a far too young and impressionable age, and immediately fell in love with the film. It’s second on my list of all-time favorite war movies, right behind BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI, and it is well into the Top Ten on my second list of all-time favorite movies overall. So, when Dwayne Epstein put out a book on the making of this great film, I had to read it. Epstein is certainly the man for the job of chronicling how THE DIRTY DOZEN made it from page to screen, as he also penned an excellent biography of DOZEN star, Lee Marvin, a few years back. Epstein’s book is titled, KILLIN’ GENERALS: THE MAKING OF THE DIRTY DOZEN, THE MOST ICONIC WWII MOVIE OF ALL TIME, and though it is a short read, it is packed full of the kind of details film lovers like me enjoy discovering.

The basic plot of THE DIRTY DOZEN is very well known: a bunch of stockade prisoners in 1944 Britain, all US soldiers convicted of serious crimes including theft, rape and murder, are given a chance to redeem themselves if they volunteer for a virtual suicide mission, that being dropped behind German lines prior to D-Day and assaulting a chateau where high ranking Nazi officers are on R&R. The finished film, which was based on a bestselling novel by E.M. Nathanson, really pushed the boundaries when it came to depictions of screen violence, but more than that, it had a cynical and sadistic attitude, not to mention a distinct anti-authority theme, that was very different than what American movie goers were used to when the film opened in June of 1967. It was a time when the country was roiled by protests over the Vietnam War, and by riots in big cities as the Civil Rights movement turned violent. It was a major production by a big studio, Warner Brothers, and it went on to become one of the biggest box office hits of the year.

Epstein’s book covers a lot of interesting territory, starting with the genesis of Nathanson’s book, and the role legendary independent film maker Russ Meyer, who had served in a photography unit of the American army during WWII, played in the novel’s origin. Many have assumed over the years that the book and the movie were based on a true story, and Epstein deals with this persistent urban legend. I liked how Epstein details Nathanson’s creative process, and how many of the vivid characters came to be. When the story shifts to Hollywood, it covers some familiar ground, especially well known to us cinephiles, such as how it nearly became a project starring John Wayne, and how veteran screenwriter Nunnelly Johnson’s original script was reworked and given a much harder edge when veteran director Robert Aldrich came aboard. What I didn’t know was that Sam Peckinpah was under serious consideration for the director’s job if Aldrich was not available. Learning stuff like this is why I love to read these “The Making Of…” books. Epstein gives us vivid portraits of Aldrich, producer Kenneth Hyman, and other actors in the film besides Marvin, including Charles Bronson (who was taciturn on his best days), Jim Brown, Ernest Borgnine, John Cassavettes, George Kennedy, Robert Ryan, Telly Savalas, Clint Walker, Richard Jaekel, and Donald Sutherland. This was truly a special cast, but the driving force was Aldrich, the grandson of a United States Senator and the first cousin to a Vice President, who turned his back on his wealthy and privileged background, and became a movie director, one whose films were dramatic and violent (his previous biggest hit was WHATEVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE). Epstein recounts more than once how Aldrich kept the production, which took place in Britain, on schedule, and kept his cast of tough and temperamental actors in line The way the director s-canned Trini Lopez, told again here, is a perfect example of Aldrich’s style. Producer Hyman comes off as one of the better guys in Hollywood at the time, willing to invest in risky projects while also making box office hits. But it is Lee Marvin, who stands out the most; a wounded marine veteran of the Pacific, the man knew how to play an officer. But he was also a hard drinking functional alcoholic who most certainly suffered from undiagnosed PTSD from his WWII service. Whatever his faults, the man was a true professional, and when his bad behavior was pointed out, he knew how to straighten up. Epstein retells an anecdote from Borgnine’s autobiography where Marvin dropped a racial slur within hearing of the director, and Robert Aldrich had his big star behind closed doors immediately, and there was no more such talk on the set from then on.

I really liked how the author puts THE DIRTY DOZEN in the context of its time, covering the very polarized reaction by critics when it opened in the theater. Most of them said it was a well-made film, but still disliked the violence and the brutality of the finale. No matter, the public loved it, though Epstein deals with the Best Director nomination snub by the Academy for a deserving Aldrich. The book wastes little time on a trio of made for TV sequels that came along in the ‘80s, one of them starring an ailing Marvin looking far too old for active duty; Telly Savalas took over for the other two. But Epstein does point out the influence and staying power of THE DIRTY DOZEN, citing many instances, some surprising, of how it has inspired projects over the years. If I have one criticism of the book, it is that too much space is given to an almost page by page retelling of Nathanson’s novel, which differed from the film in key points. Much of that could have been condensed to a brief synopsis.

The era of the big WWII action film began with RIVER KWAI in 1957, and continued through PATTON (a role that Marvin turned down) in 1970, a time that gave us THE GUNS OF NAVARONE, THE GREAT ESCAPE, and THE LONGEST DAY, among many others. But THE DIRTY DOZEN stands out from all of them, it is both of its time, and transcends it. I count myself among those who love those films, and a DVD copy of THE DIRTY DOZEN is a prized addition to my collection. I’m sure I am not the only one, and Dwane Epstein’s book was truly written for people like us.

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My alternate history novel ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964 can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m
and on Smashwords at: http://bit.ly/2kAoiAH

My other alternate history novel, BEATING PLOWSHARES INTO SWORD: An Alternate History of the Vietnam War, can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/12RMOT5
and on Draft2Digital at: https://bit.ly/1iuzXXf

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Back in 2011, Anne Rice took a detour from writing about vampires and wrote a couple novels centering on another creature of the night, the werewolf. The resulting book was THE WOLF GIFT, and according to her, writing it was pure joy. She freely admitted to using a lot of her favorite tropes, starting with having a supernatural monster as the hero, along with a lot of gothic touches such as a mysterious death, an old dark house and an equally dark woods in which secrets are hidden, not to mention the creation of a new mythic origin story, and the lore that comes with it. Rice was a prolific writer and she new her author’s toolbox very well.

Rice’s hero is Reuben Golding, an early twenty-something writer who finds himself on assignment at a secluded mansion (is there any other kind in these kind of books) on the Northern California coast. Once there, he is seduced by the owner, an attractive older woman, but their night of love making is interrupted by a home invasion. The woman is killed, but Reuben is saved by the timely intervention of a beastlike creature, though he is bitten during the altercation. The reader knows where this is going, and soon Reuben is undergoing some big changes when the night falls. But Rice’s take on the werewolf is not to see him as some doomed and cursed figure like Lawrence Talbot, but instead is a mighty hair-covered superhuman, endowed with enhanced senses and super strength. This Man Wolf, as he is referred to in the book, retains his human awareness, and is drawn to those committing evil acts. He can literally smell evil, and the reader is treated to scenes of Reuben ripping apart murderers, rapists, and those committing abuse. At the same time, this Man Wolf recognizes the innocent and spares them. Adjusting to his new circumstances remarkably well, Reuben still wants to unravel the mystery of what he has become, and why this wolf gift was given to him. Most of all, he wants to make contact with others like him, and learn what they know. Fortunately, his late lady friend left him her estate, and during his prowling in the nearby woods, meets a new love interest in Laura, a damaged woman who has a thing for giant hair covered men.

Along with a new supernatural protagonist, THE WOLF GIFT departs from a number of Rice’s usual plot points, as it is totally set in contemporary times, and the locale is contained to the Northern California area of San Francisco and Mendicino, a place where Rice lived for many years. It was nice to get out of the hot house southern gothic decadence of Louisiana where much of the Vampire Chronicles and the Mayfair Witches series were set. But despite the change in locale, there were some unique tried and true tropes that clearly marked this as an Anne Rice book, starting with her hero. Reuben Golding is from a family with money, more than that, they are culturally refined in a very proper way—the kind of people who have dinner parties where poetry is discussed while classical music and jazz play in the background. This is not unlike the protagonists in most of Rice’s books, and while some have accused her of being something of a snob, I think these were the kind of characters she was simply the most comfortable writing, and she stuck with what she knew. No way was Anne Rice ever going to write a novel about a grocery store bag boy being bitten by a werewolf or a vampire. But as a main character, I found they Reuben to be not that interesting, he becomes a werewolf, and is pretty much down with it as it seems to make his pretty good life even better. I think a better protagonist would have been Stuart McIntyre, the high school kid Reuben saves from being beaten to death by some gay bashers. During the melee, Reuben accidentally bites Stuart, passing on the wolf gift to the boy. In a lot of ways, THE WOLF GIFT could be a super hero origin story, that of the Man Wolf and his teenage sidekick. But that might be giving the book too much credit, as it is very lacking in genuine suspense and danger. There are a couple of potential Big Bads, but are dispatched with ease, though their exit is a great WTF did I just read scene. Truth is, in a lot of passages, you could easily have switched out the werewolves for vampires without much changing of the prose at all. This is especially true toward the end where Rueben and Stuart have a sit down with some older werewolves, and a lot of exposition is unloaded—another standard Rice trope.

But on the upside, nobody could world build better than Anne Rice, or set a mood for a supernatural story that could really draw a reader in. And clearly this werewolf story reads like it engaged her more than her later vampire books, which feel like they were written for the die-hard Lestat fans, but for many of us, were a case of very diminishing returns with each new book. And though I found fault with THE WOLF GIFT, I already have a copy of its sequel, THE WOLVES OF MIDWINTER, and plan on reading it.

Order my latest alternate history book, WORLD WAR NIXON now at: https://amzn.to/45HEw34

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and on Smashwords at: https://bit.ly/3kIfrAb

My alternate history novel ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964 can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m
and on Smashwords at: http://bit.ly/2kAoiAH

My other alternate history novel, BEATING PLOWSHARES INTO SWORD: An Alternate History of the Vietnam War, can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/12RMOT5
and on Draft2Digital at: https://bit.ly/1iuzXXf

Find CADEN IS COMING: A Southern Vampire Epic on Wattpad at: https://w.tt/3ESmQXK and on Inkitt at https://bit.ly/4aphuAg

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Anybody remember Spiro Agnew? If you don’t, and care about American democracy, then by all means read BAG MAN: THE WILD CRIMES, AUDACIOUS COVER UP, AND SPECTACULAR DOWNFALL OF A BRAZEN CROOK IN THE WHITE HOUSE, by Rachel Maddow and Michael Yarvitz. For those who have forgotten, and for those who are way too young, Spiro Agnew, the son of Greek immigrants, rose within a few short years in the 1960s from Baltimore County Executive to Governor of Maryland, then becoming Richard Nixon’s running mate on the 1968 Republican ticket, that won the election, elevating Agnew to the Vice Presidency. Though considered a political non-entity by most pundits at the time, Agnew quickly carved out a niche for himself as the Nixon Administration’s attack dog against those it considered enemies—anti-Vietnam War demonstrators, hippies in general, radical Blacks, young people, and most of all, the news media that critically covered the events of the day. With the help of speech writers William Safire and Pat Buchanan, the latter an old school Irish Catholic bigot, Agnew railed against An effete corp of impudent snobs and the Nattering nabobs of negativism, winning him a big following among middle Americans who felt that their very way of life was under attack during the turbulent ‘60s, and was glad to see somebody in authority stand up and fight back. When the Nixon/Agnew ticket won re-election in ’72, the Vice President immediately became the front-runner for the Republican nomination in ’76. But things changed very fast in the spring and summer of 1973, as first the Nixon Administration was engulfed in the Watergate scandal revelations, then soon followed by the news that Agnew was under investigation for taking bribes and kickbacks from contractors doing business with the state of Maryland going back to the time when he was county executive and continuing through his years as Vice President. It truly was brazen corruption, made plain by the fact that Agnew was accused of taking money right in his White House office. The Vice President was defiant at first, denying the charges, and attacking the Federal prosecutors, but ultimately, they had the goods on him, and he knew it. It ended with him pleading “no contest” to the charges, and escaping jail time by resigning his office in disgrace, before fading into relative obscurity.

I really liked Maddow, and her co-writer Yarvitz’s, take on this sordid story. My hardback copy comes in at 269 pages, making it a short read. Maddow writes in the conversational style of one of her monologues from her MS-NOW cable show, laying out the facts, but also giving some real context to the events described. The Spiro Agnew who emerges from these pages is one of a shallow grifting opportunist, and total hypocrite. The piety he put on in public hid a venomously hateful nature that came out in private. The authors make quite the contrast between the corrupt Vice President and the Federal Prosecutors who pursued his crimes and brought him to justice; they were public servants in the finest sense of the word, not once letting partisan political considerations get in the way of justice—men like George Beall, Tim Baker, Ron Liebman, and Barney Skolnick. They are true heroes. Also deserving praise is Attorney General Elliot Richardson, who understood early on that if the Watergate scandal took down the Presidency of Richard Nixon, then he could not be succeeded by his equally corrupt Vice President. Richardson backed his men all the way, and helped broker the deal that got Agnew’s resignation in the nick of time. There are also some interesting revelations concerning some very real attempts to quash the Agnew investigation early on, actions that amounted to obstruction of justice pure and simple. Another disgusting revelation is how Agnew, in the years after his resignation, was happy to take Saudi money to denounce Israeli influence in the United States. And Maddow is right in pointing out that the principal legacy of Agnew’s sordid career is the “best defense is a good offense” style of politics, where politicians under attack punch back by admitting to nothing while throwing haymakers at their accusers, and undermining the motives of investigators.

One thing Maddow leaves out is the big reason why Nixon picked Agnew as his Vice President in the first place: a deal with segregationist South Carolina Senator Strom Thurmond to pick a Vice President acceptable to the Senator in return for Thurmond’s support before the ’68 Republican National Convention. Agnew, who had called out the National Guard to keep order in Baltimore in the wake of MLK’s assassination, was the kind of tough “law and order” man from a border state that appealed to the aging white supremacist. The Agnew nomination, along with the Democratic Party’s self-inflicted wound with Thomas Eagleton in ’72, is why both political parties began seriously vetting their Vice-Presidential prospects in the years ahead, a practice that continues to this very day.

While BAG MAN is a story of justice triumphing over corruption and malfeasance, it is impossible not to be struck when reading it how very different the world is today. The Department of Justice, as it operates in the present day, would look the other way at the corruption of Spiro Agnew for no other reason than his political affiliation. We have fallen far.

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The Old West will never really die, certainly not as long as writers like Tom Clavin give us books like THE LAST OUTLAWS: THE DESPERATE FINAL DAYS OF THE DALTON GANG. I’ve read other books on the subject of the West by Clavin, where he covers the exploits of Wyatt Earp, Doc Holiday, and Bat Masterson, during their times in Dodge City and Tombstone, and found him to be the master of research and detail, along with the ability to make nearly forgotten figures from the 19th Century American West live again.

The Dalton brothers, and there were a lot of them as it was a big family, are vaguely known to any fan of western films, or the paperback novels that used to fill the book racks at drug stores. The far more famous James and Younger brothers (to whom the Daltons shared family connections) were the superstars among the outlaw class of the Old West, but Bob, Grat, Emmett, and Bill Dalton would make their mark just the same. They, and their accomplices, plied their illegal trade in Oklahoma (then called the Indian Territory), Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas, with a foray to California, during the late 1880s and early 1890s. With grit and nerve, they had success robbing trains and banks, and for a time, eluding the law, usually represented by poorly paid US territorial Marshalls. But like most of the criminally minded, they didn’t always think things through. Such was the case when Bob convinced Grat and Emmett, along with two other gang members, to attempt the spectacular feat of simultaneously robbing two banks in the town of Coffeyville, Kansas, in October of 1892. To say it didn’t go well is to put it mildly; the gang was recognized as soon as they hit town, and the well-armed citizens were waiting for them when the gang attempted to get away. Brother Bill, who was not part of the Coffeyville raid, continued in the outlaw life for few more years, partnering with Bill Doolin to form the Dalton-Doolin gang, but their days were numbered.

Coming in at 250 pages, Clavin’s history of the Dalton gang is a short read, but the pages are packed with the customary detail and character sketches. We get the full story of the Dalton family, and why they turned to the outlaw life after the eldest brother, Frank, a lawman, was killed in the line of duty. There are the Clavin usual sidebars, where he gives us the back story of some particular outlaw or lawman, and you have to pay attention to keep it all straight. Not only are the Daltons covered, but the men who chased them down are given their due as well: Heck Thomas, Chris Madsen, and Bill Tilghman. All of them living fascinating lives that took some interesting turns in the years after the Daltons had been put out of business. Hanging Judge Isaac Parker, and his executioner, George Maledon, make appearances, along with Belle Starr, Al Jennings, Blue Duck, Cattle Annie and Little Britches, and a host of lawbreakers with colorful names like Ol’ Yantis, Arkansas Tom Jones, and Richard “Little Dick” West. Clavin paints a picture of Oklahoma and its surrounding states and territories, and the people who lived there, that could have easily been taken from the pages of TRUE GRIT and LONESOME DOVE. But I would add my name to those reviewers who wish that Clavin would add a “Who’s who” to the front of his book just so we could keep all these people straight. The high point of the book is the recounting of the attempted robberies at Coffeyville, which in Clavin’s hands, reads like a western version of the bank robbery and shootout sequence from Michael Mann’s great film, HEAT. What I also found interesting was how many participants in this story got involved in the early film industry, some of them, lawman and outlaw alike, portraying themselves onscreen.

And speaking of films, I don’t think any one has quite done justice to the Daltons when it comes to the movies. If any screen writer and director should want to tackle the subject, they should start with Tom Clavin’s excellent book.

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I came to Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander books mainly because I am a sucker for a good time travel story, and made it through the first four books in the series that centered on Claire Randall, a nurse in 1946 Scotland who “goes through the stones” and ends up in that country circa the 1700s. There she meets the love of her life, even though she’s married back in the 20th Century. The lucky gentleman is Jamie Fraser, a Scottish highlander, a red-haired physically perfect highland warrior who is brave in battle and a devil of a lover in the sack. Together they go through many an adventure that takes them from 18th Century Scotland, to France, to the Caribbean, and ultimately Colonial America. Along the way they are separated repeatedly, once when a pregnant Claire goes back to the 20th Century for the better part of a couple of decades, reunited again and again, while getting mixed up with a lot of political intrigue. More than once things look bad for this intrepid couple, but Claire’s knowledge of history yet to be made repeatedly gets them through a rough patch. Also, they have a lot of sex. Gabaldon writes long books brimming with historical detail, the kind that builds up a passionate base of readers.

But THE FIERY CROSS, the fifth book in the series really puts the most devoted Outlander fan to the test. As has been stated in many other reviews, this massive doorstopper (my paperback clocks in at 1443 pages) has almost no real plot or central narrative. The story picks up with the Fraser clan settled in the mountains of North Carolina in 1771, with the American Revolution somewhere just over the horizon. The story, what there is of it, consists mainly of a bunch of plot threads: the Frasers go to The Gathering of Scottish clans in the Carolinas, and there is some mild intrigue; everyone gathers for rich Aunt Jocasta’s wedding to Duncan Innes, and a slave woman is mysteriously murdered; the Royal Governor calls up the militia (in which Jamie is a captain) to potentially put down an insurrection by the Regulators, who disband without a fight; there’s a side trip to an isolated farm where foul deeds have been committed; there’s a hunt for a killer bear; some bison make an appearance; son-in-law Roger nearly gets his neck snapped in a hangman’s noose; Jamie gets bit by a poisonous snake, and so on…and so on. In between these events, there’s lots of sitting around and talking about what has happened and what might happen; housekeeping chores, random characters wandering into the story, lots of breastfeeding, and little grandson Jemmy being annoyingly cute as a button when he isn’t messing his diapers. Arch villain Stephen Bonnet makes a couple of cameo appearances in another plot thread that is basically to be continued. Easily half of this book could have been edited out, you can skim whole sections and not miss much.

The problem with THE FIRERY CROSS is the excess of success, Gabaldon came up with an interesting hook, one that mashes together time travel, hot and heavy romance, and historical fiction, and found a huge readership that simply can’t get enough of Jamie and Claire and their extended family. This whole premise probably would have worked better if it had been kept to a three-book trilogy, one that wrapped up Jamie and Claire’s story in a neat bow. But I do understand that writers put in a lot of hard work in a profession where genuine financial reward comes to a relative few, so the pressure is to keep a good thing going once you have found a rabid readership that can’t wait for the next book. So, in that, I cut Gabaldon some slack. Still, she could have produced a genuine page turner, and it is not that she didn’t have the plot elements to produce one: the desire for vengeance on the heinous Stephen Bonnet, who raped Jamie and Claire’s daughter, Brianna, in a previous book, could have taken center stage and propelled a great revenge storyline. Then there is the plot thread that Claire and Jamie know how they will die in the near future, and a good book could be written about how they attempt to thwart a fate that may be carved in stone, or is it?

Still, I’m going to give THE FIERY CROSS a decent three-star rating for a couple of things. One is that Gabaldon is a very good writer when it comes to historical fiction, her immersive detail and world building is never short of impressive. So is her ability to create characters you root for, and want to follow through whatever adventure the happen upon next. And I will say that, with the confirmation that there are other time travelers with their own agenda out there in 1770s North America, she pulls off an ending that makes me want to read the next book in the series, A BREATH OF SNOW AND ASHES, a copy of which is already on my bookshelf. But I will be taking a not so short break before jumping back into the Outlanderverse so soon, THE FIERY CROSS has left me very tired.

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I really enjoyed the FX mini-series, FEUD: CAPOTE VS THE SWANS, a few years back; produced by Ryan Murphy, it was a peak into the world of the high and mighty of a bygone era filled with fascinating real-life characters, and enough drama for a dozen novels. The story centered on the fractured relationship between author Truman Capote, and the wealthy and very stylish women who befriended him and then welcomed into their elite social circle. These women—Barbara “Babe” Paley, Gloria Guinness, Marella Agnelli, Pamela Churchill Harriman, Slim Hayward, C.Z. Guest, Lee Radziwell—whom he dubbed his “Swans,” invited Capote into their homes, dined with him in fancy restaurants, and often traveled overseas together, all the while gossiping with, and confiding in, the celebrated author, who took it all in while working on a novel that he promised would be a masterpiece surpassing the astonishing success he achieved with IN COLD BLOOD. Then, in 1975, Esquire magazine published an excerpt from this work in progress, titled ANSWERED PRAYERS, which contained characters who were clearly modeled on the “Swans.” Much of it was not flattering, and even worse, the fictional novel contained mortifying incidents from these women’s private lives that they never intended to be made public. It was an epic act of betrayal, and Capote paid the price for it with severed friendships and social banishment.

As much as I enjoyed Murphy’s mini-series, and well aware that his shows sometimes (often?) can play fast and loose with the facts in order to make a story better, I wanted to know more about these people. That’s why I picked up Laurence Leamer’s CAPOTE’S WOMEN: The True Story of Betrayal and the Swan Song for an Era. A swift read—my paperback copy comes in at a little over 300 pages—Leamer’s book goes deep into the background of the “Swans,” detailing who they were, where they came from, and what they did in order to become the stylish icons the public saw, while interspersing the narrative with Capote’s story, the son of a single, and negligent, social climbing mother from a small town in Alabama, who rises to become one of the hottest literary talents in post WWII America. Capote was also an out of the closet homosexual at a time when that was anathema virtually everywhere in the country.

I thought the “Swans” came off much worse for the wear in Leamer’s book than in Murphy’s show, where they were played by Naomi Watts, Calista Flockhart, Demi Moore, Chloe Sevigny, and Diane Lane. As Leamer’s book makes clear, from the time they were young, it was drummed into these women’s heads that it was imperative that they marry well, which meant snagging a rich husband. And if the first marriage didn’t work out, you married a richer man the second time. Personal happiness, much less true love, did not matter, wealth and appearance were everything. It didn’t matter that their cold and distant husbands (men often much older than them) openly pursued other women, that just meant that they could discreetly have affairs of their own. Big houses with opulent gardens, luxury apartments, dinner parties with guest lists that people died for to be on, fashionable clothes, and lunches at the best restaurants, were what life was all about. Meanwhile, the children of these loveless unions were given over to nannies and governesses to raise because who has time to be a mother when being one of the “beautiful people” is a full-time job. On top of all that, they were all big snoots and snobs who truly believed the wealthy were better than the great unwashed. They would have recoiled at anything that smacked of the common touch. This book is full of great gossipy anecdotes with a lot of bearing of claws, and it is all very entertaining to read, a full picture of a time and place long gone. Of the “Swans,” I think I liked C.Z. Guest the best, she seemed to really have some grit, and I could say the same for Slim Kieth, but the portrait of “Princess” Lee Radziwell (Jackie Kennedy’s sister) in these pages is truly pitiable.

Though not nearly as pitiable as the picture of Truman Capote that emerges from Leamer’s book. The man was a giant literary talent, renown for BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’S and even more so for IN COLD BLOOD, but what he really excelled at was being a public personality, reveling in being the gay gadabout seen in all the right places with all the right people. But as I noted in my review of Murphy’s mini-series, Capote’s talent seemed to be not enough to bear the weight of success, excess, and middle age. He became a raging alcoholic, and after being ostracized and cut off from the women whose friendships he supposedly valued so much, he medicated the pain with a cocaine habit. It was the late ‘70s, and he looked ridiculous cavorting at Studio 54 in the company of C.Z., the only “Swan” who forgave him. His end was not a happy one. Why did Capote betray his friends? Leamer, like others who have documented the author’s life, cannot give us a definitive answer, but does give us enough background that we can speculate. There were abandonment issues from childhood, and like many people damaged at a young age, the broken adult Capote simply could not help himself, he deliberately hurt those most important to him, and then grieved mightily over his own actions. Perhaps the saddest thing is that Capote did not need his “Swans,” unlike them, he had risen in the world on the strength of his own gifts and skills, a well-earned reputation as a writer gained by all the books bought by the kind of average Americans his wealthy lady friends would have looked down upon. Then again, those who crave attention go where they can find it.

Laurence Leamer’s book is an excellent deep dive into an era that came and went, a culture where status was everything, and appearances mattered more than the truth. The manuscript for ANSWERED PRAYERS (if it ever existed at all) was never found in Capote’s possessions after his death, but CAPOTE’S WOMEN leave no doubt that it would have been a great read.

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Movies with unlikable protagonists can be hard to pull off, and ones where the hero is an outright A-hole can be particularly difficult to sell to an audience, but director Josh Safdie manages to thread that needle magnificently in his MARTY SUPREME, which also happens to be one of the best sports films in decades, even though the sport in question is table tennis (ping-pong), which is mostly played in rec centers, and not known for packing stadiums, especially in the United States. But don’t tell that to the film’s protagonist, Marty Mauser, a twenty something Jewish kid selling shoes in early 1950s New York City, who is determined to compete in a championship game in Tokyo that ends in him being proclaimed the best table tennis player in the world, a champion who in his own words, will be on the front of a Wheaties box. Marty does have the skills to be a champion, but what he has in spades is attitude and determination. Despite his meager circumstances, Marty is always scheming and scrambling to find a way to further himself, always on the lookout for any opportunity that will boost him up another rung on the ladder. He is always aggressive in selling himself to anyone who will listen, especially someone who can be of value to him, though he is quick to discard them when they are no longer of any use to him or his plans. Marty often has more self-confidence than smarts when it comes to the situations he gets himself into, often proving more than once that he is his own worst enemy, and the tight spots he finds himself in are truly of his own making. Nevertheless, Marty careens from one hustle to another, never accepting a defeat or setback, always moving forward until he does get to Tokyo, and faces the Japanese table tennis champion, Koto Endo, on his own turf. But anyone expecting an underdog triumphant Hollywood style ending may be disappointed, but the finale does feel deserved and earned, and I didn’t feel sorry for Marty, knowing that he has everything it takes to go on and be a success.

Written (along with Ronald Brownstein) and directed by Josh Safdie, MARTY SUPREME, is a terrific New York movie, and a lot of credit for this has to go to veteran production designer, Jack Fisk, who really nails the era in the Big Apple, a time when America was getting out from under the long shadows of the Depression and WWII. This movie not only has great dialogue, but terrific rhythm and flow of it, as scene after scene has characters going at each other in a back and forth of verbal aggression, defining themselves and their time. There maybe a few scenes too many that are essentially the same set-up, but honestly, I didn’t mind.

And MARTY SUPREME is a supreme star vehicle for Timothee Chalamet in the title role; skinny, with a pencil thin moustache and glasses, and always flashing a confident smile, he inhabits the role in a way that is truly astounding. But Safdie backs his star up with an amazing supporting cast, some of them non-actors, to flesh out Marty’s world of fellow hustlers, chumps, and those just caught up in his schemes who become collateral damage. Special praise must go to Gwyneth Paltrow as a faded movie star Marty hooks up with along the way, and SHARK TANK’s Kevin O’Leary, as her wealthy husband, a hard-nosed industrialist whose patronage Marty is desperate to acquire. Paltrow reminds us what a good actress she really is when given the right material, and you can all but smell the arrogance coming off O’Leary. Odessa A’zion makes a very strong impression as the girl Marty has been sneaking around with behind her husband’s back, a situation that has become more complicated now that she is pregnant with Marty’s child. Movie director Abel Ferrara plays a sinister character Marty and his girlfriend run afoul of in the course of one of his schemes. Koto Kawguchi makes a big impression in a wordless performance as Koto. Fran Dresher, Sandra Bernhard, Tyler the Creator, David Mamet, Fred Hechinger, Pico Iyer are among the many notable names who turn up at one time or another, and I didn’t recognize Penn Jillette in his pertinent cameo. But I did pick out Ted Williams, “the man with the golden voice,” in the background in one scene.

If I have a criticism of MARTY SUPREME, it might be that it is about a half-hour too long, but that is true of so many films these days. One thing I really liked is the unconventional choices made for the musical soundtrack; there are some oldies from the era used in the background in some scenes, but the use of a couple of great tunes from the ‘80s, anachronistic as they may be, really hits the right note.

I think the highest praise I can give MARTY SUPREME is that it is a film where we truly do not know what is going to happen next, unlike the third sequel to some rebooted franchise that comes out of Hollywood at a depressing regularity now. And I think that in its own way, MARTY SUPREME is a deeply patriotic film, as guys like Marty, who have guts and ambition and determination to prevail no matter how dire their circumstances, have always thrived in America. The guys, and now women, who get it done despite all obstacles in front of them, and who make their dreams come true. I’m sure there are some virtuous betters among us who will throw bricks at this film for the way it celebrates naked ambition and the ruthlessness it portrays in pursuit of it; they’ll probably hurl accusations of “toxic masculinity” or some other nonsense at it. Pay no attention to them, MARTY SUPREME is the best American film in years. It is a literal descendent of that other essential American classic, THE HUSTLER, from way back in the day.

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My alternate history novel ALL THE WAY WITH JFK: AN ALTERNATE HISTORY OF 1964 can be found on Amazon at: http://amzn.to/2jVkW9m
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I am a huge reader of history, especially my American history, and one of my favorite writers of it was Stephen Ambrose, whom I discovered decades ago through his multi-part biographies of Dwight Eisenhower and Richard Nixon, and then his excellent account of the Korean War, THE COLDEST WINTER. His account of the Lewis and Clark expedition, UNDAUNTED COURAGE: Merriweather Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West, sat on my shelf longer than it should have, but I finally took it down and read it, and discovered I had been missing out on what might have been Ambrose’s best book. If you think you know the story of the Lewis and Clark expedition, and haven’t read this book, then think again for you have a lot to learn.

Everyone who has ever sat in an American history class has heard the short version of the story: how President Thomas Jefferson bought the vast territory of Louisiana from the French Emperor, Napoleon, in 1803, doubling the size of the United States with a pen stroke, then sent a pair of intrepid adventurers, Merriweather Lewis and William Clark, to explore this new country far to the west all the way to the Pacific Ocean, helped along the way and guided by the Shoshone Indian maiden, Sacagawea. That account doesn’t begin to cover the half of it, but Ambrose’s book does so and then some, giving the reader a fascinating deep dive into a time and place that existed for such a short time, before politics, ambition, and the onrush of technological change swept America and the world full on into the 19th Century and beyond.

Using a vast number of historical records, Ambrose tells us why Louisiana and the city of New Orleans was so important to the future of the United States, and why Jefferson was so determined to obtain it. We learn of the competing interests of not only the French and the Americans, but of the Spanish and the British, both of whom had also made investments in the territory, the latter through a very lucrative fur trade out of Canada. In between all these great powers were the tribes of the great plains: the Blackfeet, Mandans, Sioux, Nez Pearce, and Shoshone. Commerce was the driving force behind all these common interests, and if a route by water could be found between the Mississippi and the Pacific Ocean, tying east and west together very neatly, then fortunes unimaginable could be made. That was the hope of Jefferson and many others in the east, and it was one of the primary reasons why an armed expedition from St. Louis to the Pacific was commissioned and outfitted by the American government even before the ink was dry on the bottom line.

The bulk of Ambrose’s book (my paperback copy runs to nearly 500 pages), tells of the expedition itself, frequently drawing on the journals of Merriweather Lewis, who wrote down a detailed account of the journey, telling of the new species of plants and trees discovered, along with vivid pictures of the wild life encountered, including some harrowing collisions with Grizzley bears, and the sight of great herds of buffalo and bison, the latter soon to be gone within a few generations. The land and the elements prove challenging as these men make a trail up the Missouri River into the Rocky Mountains (which must have been incredibly intimidating on first sight), cross the Continental divide, and then down the Columbia River to the Pacific. All the way there are the Indians, some of whom are most friendly, others not so much, and always there is the possibility that a misunderstanding on someone’s part could have resulted in bloodshed, which could have led to the entire expedition being wiped out. The sheer courage of Lewis and Clark and the men they led so successfully into such an immense country cannot be overstated, many would follow them and truly stand on the shoulders of giants. Such is the talent of Ambrose the writer, who had a novelist’s flair for narrative and pacing, that we are right there with these men, fighting the arctic cold in the winter, sharing their sense of wonder at what is lying around the next bend in the river, or over the ridge in the distance.

The primary focus of Ambrose’s book is on the two men mentioned in the title, Lewis and Jefferson. He paints a vivid picture of Lewis, a Virginia gentleman, like his benefactor Jefferson, as an intrepid leader of men, courageous and with an insightful mind, a man who thrived on challenge and did not fear adversity. Cool under pressure, decisive under fire, and when he made an error in judgement in the wilds of North America, he was able to correct it, while still holding the confidence of those he led. But Lewis was a hero with demons that seemed to surface once he was back in civilization, and his ultimate fate, described at the end of the book, is heartbreaking. This book makes an excellent case for why Thomas Jefferson is one of the most truly essential American leaders. With his keen engineer’s mind, Jefferson, unlike so many of his contemporaries, could see over the horizon of the future, and act upon it. It is not just that he purchased Louisiana, but that he wanted to make it truly and equally a part of the nation, not a colony to be administered and plundered. Because of him, we became an America from sea to shining sea.

There are some great insights in Ambrose’s book, especially his comment that how everything in the world in 1800 moved at the speed of a horse, the same it had done since before the ancient Greeks and Romans. It was soon to change. He notes that members of the expedition heard what sounded like booming cannon fire out on the plains in the far distance on a sunny day, an unexplained occurrence that still happens to this very day. William Clark gets somewhat shortchanged in the narrative, but he comes off as one of the best friends and traveling companions that any leader could have wanted, where Lewis was weak, Clark compensated. Sacagawea, who was married to a French fur trader, and who gave birth to a son during the journey, must have been one tough woman, the sole female to make the trip.

Ambrose’s book, which was published in 1996, does deal with the unavoidable subjects of slavery and the treatment of the Indians, well before those issues become so incendiary in the far more sensitive 21st Century. Ambrose does not white wash or sugar coat, he lets facts speak for themselves, and makes clear that the men and women in his book were products of their times. But unlike some recent historians, does not moralize and virtue signal, something that feels refreshing now.

The book ends with a very long single sentence, written by Jefferson a few years after Lewis’s untimely death, in which he praises the young man he picked to lead a great adventure into the unknown and then return to tell his fellow countrymen what they’d found. This piece of writing is also a pertinent reminder of the kind of extraordinary talent that once occupied the highest office in the land, but has been seldom seen there since.

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