David Rudenstine is a respected constitutional scholar, having served on the faculty of the Benjamin N. Cardozo School of Law for over 40 years. His book, "The Day the Presses Stopped: A History of the Pentagon Papers Case," was not rushed into print immediately after the landmark legal battle, but instead benefits from looking back at the Pentagon Papers scandal free from the white-hot pressures of the moment.
Rudenstine's book is written in a style that will be very familiar to anyone who has ever sat through a constitutional law lecture. All the information is there, and is extremely well organized. The book proceeds point-by-point after offering some brief and entertaining background regarding the (mainly) men involved and just where their hearts and minds were in 1970-1971. Rudenstine explains Robert McNamara's decision to commission the PP study in the first place and how Daniel Ellsberg got involved in the study, as well as Ellsberg's eventual disenchantment with the whole thing.
On the plus side, Rudenstine does not blow the PP out of proportion, and indeed at the outset the reader sees the wisdom in Nixon's first reaction to the publishing of the PP - this is no big deal, much of what is in the PP is already known, and the PPs do not blame the Nixon Administration for anything regarding Vietnam. But then someone - probably Kissinger, in Rudenstine's telling (Kissinger is the closest thing we get to a villain in this book) - got to Nixon, and soon Nixon was foaming at the mouth about evil leakers and their collaborators in the press.
Once the legal battle over the PP starts, however, Rudenstine's book becomes a slog. Rudenstine can't help but exercise his law prof muscles by analyzing the nuances of arguments made by opposing counsel, even judging their deliveries during oral argument and critiquing both strategy and tactics. This is more than unfair considering the relative light speed with which this case moved forward. This would be fine if this book were marketed as a legal history, or as a book aimed at litigators who want to understand in great detail how the legal arguments were crafted and presented. But while there may be an audience for this type of book - and even a passionate audience - it would not be very broad, and so this book is marketed just as a "history."
The other disappointment is that Rudenstine is just not a compelling writer. I've had the good fortune recently to read some truly wonderful authors of history - Robert Caro, Rick Atkinson, Catherine Drinker Bowen, Jill Lepore, and Barbara Tuchman among them. It may not be fair, but Rudenstine is just not in their class - his prose is logical and thorough, but workmanlike in the extreme. I also read Ben Bradlee's memoir, "A Good Life," and his telling of the PP story is far more intriguing.
I have no quibbles with Rudenstine's logic or conclusions, and it is refreshing to read any book involving Nixon that acknowledges that Nixon - while horribly flawed - may have had a valid point or two with some arguments. But reading this book is like eating raw spinach - nutritious, but hardly enjoyable.