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Flying Close to the Sun: My Life and Times as a Weatherman
Flying Close to the Sun is the stunning memoir of a white middle-class girl from Connecticut who became a member of the Weather Underground, one of the most notorious groups of the 1960s. Cathy Wilkerson, who famously escaped the Greenwich Village townhouse explosion, here wrestles with the
legacy of the movement, at times finding contradictions that many others have the absence of women’s voices then, and in the retelling; the incompetence and the egos; the hundreds of bombs detonated in protest which caused little loss of life but which were also ineffective in fomenting revolution. In searching for new paradigms for change, Wilkerson asserts with brave humanity and confessional honesty an assessment of her past—of those heady, iconic times—and somehow finds hope and faith in a world that at times seems to offer neither.
legacy of the movement, at times finding contradictions that many others have the absence of women’s voices then, and in the retelling; the incompetence and the egos; the hundreds of bombs detonated in protest which caused little loss of life but which were also ineffective in fomenting revolution. In searching for new paradigms for change, Wilkerson asserts with brave humanity and confessional honesty an assessment of her past—of those heady, iconic times—and somehow finds hope and faith in a world that at times seems to offer neither.
432 pages, Hardcover
First published September 1, 2007
15 people are currently reading
515 people want to read
About the author
Cathy Wilkerson
2 books5 followersCathy Wilkerson is a professor in the Mathematics department at East Carolina University. She was formerly a member of the 1970s radical group called the Weather Underground Organization (WUO).
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October 16, 2022
In her memoir, Cathy Wilkerson expands on her experiences as a member of the Weather Underground. Unlike many of her fellow Weathermen, she puts distance between herself now and herself in the sixties and seventies. Her account sounds detached, making it clear that she is not proud of what she did back then. What she is trying to underscore is that she has realized what the student radicals did wrong. However, what she actually presents is a misleading, overly sympathetic view of the Weathermen.
Wilkerson dismisses the claims that the Weather Underground caused the downfall of the New Left and argues that the organization was not the one that delivered the decisive blow. Although it is true that other factions contributed to the New Left's ruin, she is mistaken in her conclusion. The Weathermen were exceptionally wrong-headed and arrogant. For instance, their opposition to feminism deprived the New Left of the support of women's liberationists, who disliked the macho behavior that did not make a "more efficient revolutionary but only a more efficient son of a bitch."
The author also treats the methods and strategy of the Weathermen as if they were the only ones that could be used by serious revolutionaries at the time. This is incorrect. Many radicals from other organizations, including the Black Panthers who were allied with the Weather Underground, considered the adventurism of the Weathermen to be unwise.
The way in which the author portrays herself in her story also strains credibility. According to her, in every critical moment in the history of the student radicals she was dismayed by the decisions that the leaders of the Weathermen made, but she still chose to comply with them because she believed that they knew better than her which course of action was the right one. I do not know who she expects to fall for this when it is known that after the Days of Rage, the disastrous rampage through the streets of Chicago that the Weather Underground led, it became clear to most protesters that, as movement insiders joked, "You don't need a rectal thermometer to know who the assholes are." Activists who were not even directly involved with the Weathermen had figured them out, but Cathy somehow had not. Despite allegedly having misgivings about her fellow members' tactics, she continued to be involved in their violent activities. Furthermore, the Greenwich townhouse, whose explosion became a turning point for the student radicals, belonged to her father, a broadcast executive. She had allowed the New York collective of the Weather Underground to use it as its headquarters during preparation for a terrorist operation at an Army dance. This is not what a person who genuinely disagreed with the Weathermen would have done in the situation.
Furthermore, she was the girlfriend of Terry Robbins, one of the leaders of the New York collective. Not only was this collective known to be the most militant, but also Robbins was considered the main source of this militancy. He had excelled in the organization because of his extremism and his fascination with explosives. According to Weatherman Bill Ayers, Robbins was a best friend, a partner in mischief, and a dangerously driven figure – “smart, obsessive,” inhabiting an “anarchic solitude,” and wedded to a strategy of “the bigger the mess, the better.” Weatherman Robin Palmer remembered that Robbins “scared the shit out of him” when they first met in early March 1970 in a recruiting session for the Weather Underground. Listening to Robbins talk wildly of plans to bomb an Army dance, Palmer responded, “I don’t agree with what you’re saying. You’re going to get yourself killed.” To him, Robbins appeared a victim of “gut check," and what he proposed was "crazy," but Wilkerson must have thought differently if she was Robbins's girlfriend. It seems unlikely to me that a fanatic like him would have stayed in a relationship with someone who was against his beliefs.
It is only in the final pages of the book that the author acknowledges that she had come to resemble the "implacable, myopic, and selfish" people that she had fought against. She explains that she could not resist the temptation of power and the thrill that she got from being part of the elite of the Weather Underground, a circle that she was accepted to thanks to Robbins. This brief self-criticism is supposed to compensate for the rest of her memoir, in which she excuses the Weathermen. It does not sound convincing in the slightest. Her account is inferior to those of her fellow Weathermen Ayers, Gilbert, and Stern because, unlike them, she did not have the courage to face the failure of the Weather Underground and the part that she played in it. Instead of admitting that she had been delusional back then and had made mistakes, she is trying to make it seem like she had understood all along that the Weathermen were wrong to engage in violence.
FLYING CLOSE TO THE SUN is not worth reading. Wilkerson even attempts to excuse the Greenwich townhouse explosion, arguing that it was not a complete failure because it had alerted America to the anger of its youth. This book does not offer much insight into its author and the movement.
Wilkerson dismisses the claims that the Weather Underground caused the downfall of the New Left and argues that the organization was not the one that delivered the decisive blow. Although it is true that other factions contributed to the New Left's ruin, she is mistaken in her conclusion. The Weathermen were exceptionally wrong-headed and arrogant. For instance, their opposition to feminism deprived the New Left of the support of women's liberationists, who disliked the macho behavior that did not make a "more efficient revolutionary but only a more efficient son of a bitch."
The author also treats the methods and strategy of the Weathermen as if they were the only ones that could be used by serious revolutionaries at the time. This is incorrect. Many radicals from other organizations, including the Black Panthers who were allied with the Weather Underground, considered the adventurism of the Weathermen to be unwise.
The way in which the author portrays herself in her story also strains credibility. According to her, in every critical moment in the history of the student radicals she was dismayed by the decisions that the leaders of the Weathermen made, but she still chose to comply with them because she believed that they knew better than her which course of action was the right one. I do not know who she expects to fall for this when it is known that after the Days of Rage, the disastrous rampage through the streets of Chicago that the Weather Underground led, it became clear to most protesters that, as movement insiders joked, "You don't need a rectal thermometer to know who the assholes are." Activists who were not even directly involved with the Weathermen had figured them out, but Cathy somehow had not. Despite allegedly having misgivings about her fellow members' tactics, she continued to be involved in their violent activities. Furthermore, the Greenwich townhouse, whose explosion became a turning point for the student radicals, belonged to her father, a broadcast executive. She had allowed the New York collective of the Weather Underground to use it as its headquarters during preparation for a terrorist operation at an Army dance. This is not what a person who genuinely disagreed with the Weathermen would have done in the situation.
Furthermore, she was the girlfriend of Terry Robbins, one of the leaders of the New York collective. Not only was this collective known to be the most militant, but also Robbins was considered the main source of this militancy. He had excelled in the organization because of his extremism and his fascination with explosives. According to Weatherman Bill Ayers, Robbins was a best friend, a partner in mischief, and a dangerously driven figure – “smart, obsessive,” inhabiting an “anarchic solitude,” and wedded to a strategy of “the bigger the mess, the better.” Weatherman Robin Palmer remembered that Robbins “scared the shit out of him” when they first met in early March 1970 in a recruiting session for the Weather Underground. Listening to Robbins talk wildly of plans to bomb an Army dance, Palmer responded, “I don’t agree with what you’re saying. You’re going to get yourself killed.” To him, Robbins appeared a victim of “gut check," and what he proposed was "crazy," but Wilkerson must have thought differently if she was Robbins's girlfriend. It seems unlikely to me that a fanatic like him would have stayed in a relationship with someone who was against his beliefs.
It is only in the final pages of the book that the author acknowledges that she had come to resemble the "implacable, myopic, and selfish" people that she had fought against. She explains that she could not resist the temptation of power and the thrill that she got from being part of the elite of the Weather Underground, a circle that she was accepted to thanks to Robbins. This brief self-criticism is supposed to compensate for the rest of her memoir, in which she excuses the Weathermen. It does not sound convincing in the slightest. Her account is inferior to those of her fellow Weathermen Ayers, Gilbert, and Stern because, unlike them, she did not have the courage to face the failure of the Weather Underground and the part that she played in it. Instead of admitting that she had been delusional back then and had made mistakes, she is trying to make it seem like she had understood all along that the Weathermen were wrong to engage in violence.
FLYING CLOSE TO THE SUN is not worth reading. Wilkerson even attempts to excuse the Greenwich townhouse explosion, arguing that it was not a complete failure because it had alerted America to the anger of its youth. This book does not offer much insight into its author and the movement.
June 11, 2008
Make no mistake, this book is worth reading, but it is not as compelling as I hoped. Wilkerson gives a very slow but thorough retelling of both her journey from a shy, middle-class New Englander to underground radical, and the transformation of SDS to WUO.
In fact she doesn't start getting into the notorious Weatherman stories until 300 pages deep; in the meantime a dizzying number of other organizations and leaders are name-dropped, but it's very interesting to see how they overlapped in productive and obstructive ways.
For all the time she spent distancing herself from and apologizing for the terrorist actions of the WUO, I thought she really wasn't the member most qualified to write a memoir (eg: she hid under a van during the Days of Rage demonstration), but in the end she does deliver. The details of the famed townhouse explosion are especially intriguing.
But most interesting about this book -- and the WUO ideology in general -- is how it addressed many faces of the 60's revolution at once: anti-war, civil rights, and feminism. She and her contemporaries (for the most part) realized it was the same system and the same perception of reality that oppressed the Vietnamese as African-Americans and women all over the world. Her accounts of their struggles reminded me how much things have changed in the last 50 years and how much more change is possible.
In fact she doesn't start getting into the notorious Weatherman stories until 300 pages deep; in the meantime a dizzying number of other organizations and leaders are name-dropped, but it's very interesting to see how they overlapped in productive and obstructive ways.
For all the time she spent distancing herself from and apologizing for the terrorist actions of the WUO, I thought she really wasn't the member most qualified to write a memoir (eg: she hid under a van during the Days of Rage demonstration), but in the end she does deliver. The details of the famed townhouse explosion are especially intriguing.
But most interesting about this book -- and the WUO ideology in general -- is how it addressed many faces of the 60's revolution at once: anti-war, civil rights, and feminism. She and her contemporaries (for the most part) realized it was the same system and the same perception of reality that oppressed the Vietnamese as African-Americans and women all over the world. Her accounts of their struggles reminded me how much things have changed in the last 50 years and how much more change is possible.
July 4, 2010
At first I felt this was impossibly didactic and impersonal, in contrast to Bill Ayer's memoir. There was no room to identify. But by the time I finished I realized that only such a complex political analysis could do justice to the hope and revolutionary energy squandered in the fuckup the Weathermen became.
November 25, 2012
This is a memoir of a woman deeply involved with the Students for a Democratic Society(SDS) and then the Weathermen in the sixties and early seventies. She traces her family life, how she became involved in progressive politics, the civil rights and anti-war movements turning finally to the SDS(which was originally a progressive,democratic(small d) organization) and then to the weathermen where she became involved in violent acts and finally the accidental explosion of her father's townhouse while friends were making explosives. The book then outlines her years on the run and her eventual turning herself in.
This memoir is best when she discusses her evolving views and involvement in violent politics. She explains how her idealistic vision turned to anger and how the anger combined with an abandonment of democratic ideals--when she and her allies felt that they knew better than anyone and did not need to listen to anyone else-- fed itself into doing things that she now considers destructive to herself and harmful to others.
The book is not an apology, Wilkerson still maintains many of her beliefs, some current beliefs such as her happiness that the United States were, in her words, defeated in Vietnam will make many of us cringe. But on the other hand, Wilkerson does not let herself off easily, she makes fun of herself and is critical of the path that led her and others to violence.
One interesting narrative was the relationship between early feminism and the radicalism of the SDS movement and the tension/alliance between the student radicals and Black Militant groups.
There were parts of her story that I would have liked to seen her explore more, especially her relationship with her family during and after the bombing. I was particulary intrigued with her Quaker sister whose committment to pacificism was just as radical as Wilkerson's views in the 60s but took a dramatically different turn(the sister's protests were just as pacifist as her beliefs) It would have been interesting to learn more of her sister's opinions at the times as well as their eventual reconciliation. I understand that Wikerson may not have wanted to open old wounds and invade the privacy of her family(her parents are never really named in the book) but I felt like I missed an important part of her life.
This was also an excellent book on the times of the sixties, I'd recommend it to anyone interested in a thoughtful view of the ideals and excesses of those times
This memoir is best when she discusses her evolving views and involvement in violent politics. She explains how her idealistic vision turned to anger and how the anger combined with an abandonment of democratic ideals--when she and her allies felt that they knew better than anyone and did not need to listen to anyone else-- fed itself into doing things that she now considers destructive to herself and harmful to others.
The book is not an apology, Wilkerson still maintains many of her beliefs, some current beliefs such as her happiness that the United States were, in her words, defeated in Vietnam will make many of us cringe. But on the other hand, Wilkerson does not let herself off easily, she makes fun of herself and is critical of the path that led her and others to violence.
One interesting narrative was the relationship between early feminism and the radicalism of the SDS movement and the tension/alliance between the student radicals and Black Militant groups.
There were parts of her story that I would have liked to seen her explore more, especially her relationship with her family during and after the bombing. I was particulary intrigued with her Quaker sister whose committment to pacificism was just as radical as Wilkerson's views in the 60s but took a dramatically different turn(the sister's protests were just as pacifist as her beliefs) It would have been interesting to learn more of her sister's opinions at the times as well as their eventual reconciliation. I understand that Wikerson may not have wanted to open old wounds and invade the privacy of her family(her parents are never really named in the book) but I felt like I missed an important part of her life.
This was also an excellent book on the times of the sixties, I'd recommend it to anyone interested in a thoughtful view of the ideals and excesses of those times
January 25, 2008
One of the better memoirs I've read. Wilkerson avoids the typical self-pitying found in most memoirs and tells her story directly and honestly. She readily admits that the Weathermen (and SDS) were deeply flawed organizations, though they had decent intentions and were pretty astute in their analyses of race and world affairs. She also willingly admits her own mistakes and is able to provide convincing explanations for her past actions, even though she wouldn't necessarily have repeated them, particularly the events revolving around the explosion at her dad's townhouse.
It was also great how Wilkerson interprets much of what happened through a gender lens, allowing that SDS and the Weatherman were often sexist.
Finally, Wilkerson scatters her analysis of current affairs throughout the book and more extensively in the last chapter, tying the politics of Vietnam to those of the Iraq War quite nicely. This book was great. Only four stars, though, for the first few chapters on her childhood, which kind of dragged...
It was also great how Wilkerson interprets much of what happened through a gender lens, allowing that SDS and the Weatherman were often sexist.
Finally, Wilkerson scatters her analysis of current affairs throughout the book and more extensively in the last chapter, tying the politics of Vietnam to those of the Iraq War quite nicely. This book was great. Only four stars, though, for the first few chapters on her childhood, which kind of dragged...
April 29, 2013
I just started this memoir by a member of the Weather Underground. What's particularly inspiring about it, so far, is the measured way Wilkerson reflects on her past self, her coming-of-age as a politicized person, and her actions. This isn't some big expose of the radical movement but a critical look at what worked and what didn't from someone who still works for social justice.
June 8, 2024
helpfully grounding for the times ! a lingering question of whether anyone gets older and becomes *more* radicalized
November 22, 2007
Wilkerson does an excellent job of giving context for a story of which most Americans remember only the climax. She begins at the beginnng, with the civil rights movement and her involvment with Alinksy-style community organizing. The book follows her participation in SDS and eventually the WUO. What is most striking is Wilkerson's present political analysis and dedication to the beliefs she first held as a young activist.
June 6, 2008
Flying Close is the Sun is an honest reflective and analytical account of Cathy Wilkerson's transformation from a shy younger person to a radical activist in SDS, Weatherman, and Weather Underground. Most interesting were Wilkerson's analysis on gender and activism and how radical organizations took on authoritarian characteristics of the systems - silencing and coercion of opponents, hierarchy, etc. - the organizations were trying to destroy. Wilkerson's prose is smart and engaging.
February 10, 2008
I thought it was a disgusting story right to the end. I expected remorse but saw only a very weak and insincere apology.
February 24, 2022
3.5 stars? This is probably the most comprehensive Weatherman history/memoir I’ve encountered, and is far and away the most sober and unsentimental of the lot. Wilkerson doesn’t shy away from taking responsible for a variety of things she and Weather did wrong, and is unsparing in her castigation of the organization’s lack of plan or strategy and cultlike authority structure. She explains a lot of things they got wrong and how they fucked them up, and often takes direct responsibility. Her focus on the sheer folly of plotting bombings for their own sake, without even basic tactical thoughts/expectations about their outcomes, let alone any kind of plan/goals/direction for the wider “war” the group was trying to start, is probably the most utterly damning criticism I’ve heard about Weather.
These aspects of the book suggest Wilkerson as a respectable and responsible actor, in command of herself in the world. She writes convincingly of the circumstances that moved her to radicalism and effectively captures the slow drift from having a social conscience and wanting to make the world better to planting bombs. (The bulk of the book is minor details about SDS and New Left Notes, rather than the Weatherman faction, but if you’re into that stuff, that part of the book may not drag as much. I am and it didn’t, though it didn’t exactly jump off the page.)
Yet there are significant flaws in the memoir: a surprising amount of the book is devoted to Wilkerson’s early life, which was enormously privileged but also seems less foundational to this story than she presents it to be. Meanwhile, this focus on the detail of her family life and relationships evaporates after details of how she blew up her father’s house and disappeared into the underground for nine years. One of the questions I most wondered was how it felt to return to her family, what those conversations were like, how she felt about returning to society, how her daughter experienced being reunited, etc, but she doesn’t give these subject even a paragraph of consideration—they get about three sentences. Wilkerson seems to think the reader is more interested in granular detail of her political evolution (something lots of people, and everyone who writes a political memoir, go through) than they are in the perfectly unique circumstance of returning to one’s family after blowing up one’s father’s house, getting some people killed, disappearing for nine years, and doing some symbolic bombings in the interim there. That’s a lapse.
Rare for a radical-left memoirist, Wilkerson writes clearly, expressively, and actively—largely without buzzwords or passive weasel-language. This makes the times when she does slip into that sort of talk more painful: when she describes incarcerated men at Attica participating the uprising, she does so in active prose, before concluding with this passive nonsense: “One guard died from wounds received during the takeover.” In a memoir otherwise guided by active assertion and an attitude of unflinching responsibility taking, the rhetorical bullshit in a sentence like that just reeks.
Another weird one is for a radical who devoted her life to fighting racism in the most ballistic of manners, Wilkerson slides a couple of times toward liberal racist tropes. It’s weird to see Fred Hampton described as an “articulate Black man,” because like… doesn’t Wilkerson have Black friends to tell her how “articulate” is so often a backhanded insult that it can’t help but he tainted by racism? Wouldn’t someone have told her this before 2010? As well, there’s an early description of bringing a Black date to a dance and shocking white people that reads as though she’s delighting in the frisson of rebellion this represents about her—without including her Black date as a part of the story. How was that guy’s evening, surrounded by shocked white people? Maybe he and his experience represented an important part of that event and story? Why didn’t she notice that? Why doesn’t she talk about him as a person rather than as a symbol?
Thing is, I imagine Wilkerson would cop to these criticisms: more than others in Weather, she seems like she was a natural for the group’s practices of brutal self-criticism. Which is suitable: a group that decides to risk other people’s lives for their cause had damned well better be willing to subject itself to the harshest self-assessment and responsibility taking around. Characters like Ayers and Dohrn have always seemed to lack mercilessness in their stock-taking of their accomplishments—they both reek of ego to me. Wilkerson, however abundantly and self-punishingly protestant she comes across, writes this memoir from a largely secure position in which she seems willing to look closely at her greatest failings, and to do so without resorting to cheap sentiment. That willingness to turn so rarely away and provide so few excuses makes this an ultimately fascinating book, despite its noticeable flaws.
These aspects of the book suggest Wilkerson as a respectable and responsible actor, in command of herself in the world. She writes convincingly of the circumstances that moved her to radicalism and effectively captures the slow drift from having a social conscience and wanting to make the world better to planting bombs. (The bulk of the book is minor details about SDS and New Left Notes, rather than the Weatherman faction, but if you’re into that stuff, that part of the book may not drag as much. I am and it didn’t, though it didn’t exactly jump off the page.)
Yet there are significant flaws in the memoir: a surprising amount of the book is devoted to Wilkerson’s early life, which was enormously privileged but also seems less foundational to this story than she presents it to be. Meanwhile, this focus on the detail of her family life and relationships evaporates after details of how she blew up her father’s house and disappeared into the underground for nine years. One of the questions I most wondered was how it felt to return to her family, what those conversations were like, how she felt about returning to society, how her daughter experienced being reunited, etc, but she doesn’t give these subject even a paragraph of consideration—they get about three sentences. Wilkerson seems to think the reader is more interested in granular detail of her political evolution (something lots of people, and everyone who writes a political memoir, go through) than they are in the perfectly unique circumstance of returning to one’s family after blowing up one’s father’s house, getting some people killed, disappearing for nine years, and doing some symbolic bombings in the interim there. That’s a lapse.
Rare for a radical-left memoirist, Wilkerson writes clearly, expressively, and actively—largely without buzzwords or passive weasel-language. This makes the times when she does slip into that sort of talk more painful: when she describes incarcerated men at Attica participating the uprising, she does so in active prose, before concluding with this passive nonsense: “One guard died from wounds received during the takeover.” In a memoir otherwise guided by active assertion and an attitude of unflinching responsibility taking, the rhetorical bullshit in a sentence like that just reeks.
Another weird one is for a radical who devoted her life to fighting racism in the most ballistic of manners, Wilkerson slides a couple of times toward liberal racist tropes. It’s weird to see Fred Hampton described as an “articulate Black man,” because like… doesn’t Wilkerson have Black friends to tell her how “articulate” is so often a backhanded insult that it can’t help but he tainted by racism? Wouldn’t someone have told her this before 2010? As well, there’s an early description of bringing a Black date to a dance and shocking white people that reads as though she’s delighting in the frisson of rebellion this represents about her—without including her Black date as a part of the story. How was that guy’s evening, surrounded by shocked white people? Maybe he and his experience represented an important part of that event and story? Why didn’t she notice that? Why doesn’t she talk about him as a person rather than as a symbol?
Thing is, I imagine Wilkerson would cop to these criticisms: more than others in Weather, she seems like she was a natural for the group’s practices of brutal self-criticism. Which is suitable: a group that decides to risk other people’s lives for their cause had damned well better be willing to subject itself to the harshest self-assessment and responsibility taking around. Characters like Ayers and Dohrn have always seemed to lack mercilessness in their stock-taking of their accomplishments—they both reek of ego to me. Wilkerson, however abundantly and self-punishingly protestant she comes across, writes this memoir from a largely secure position in which she seems willing to look closely at her greatest failings, and to do so without resorting to cheap sentiment. That willingness to turn so rarely away and provide so few excuses makes this an ultimately fascinating book, despite its noticeable flaws.
April 22, 2024
A long and detailed account of a former member of the Weather Underground.
I found the most interesting part of the book to be the early chapters, and being able to trace the slow journey the author takes from civil rights to making bombs.
The cult like attitude of the Weather Underground, and particularly their sequel policies, made for difficult reading and I feel sad for many of the young people trapped in the chaos left by their leaders. That said, the book does a great job of conveying the sense that the Weathermen's violence was in response not only to the violence in Vietnam, but also the horrific violence meted out against black activists of the time.
I do feel that the author holds back many of the raw, intense emotions that she must have felt. She comes across rather methodical and dispassionate, particularly when discussing her relationship with her family.
I also feel that Wilkerson was more actively combative and radical in her personal life than she let's on. She provided glimpses of this, enough glimpses that I do not think she would have been a particularly nice person to be around back then.
None of which distracts from the fact I learnt a lot and I'm glad I read this account from a radical female voice who took "the next step" towards revolution that most of us never will.
I found the most interesting part of the book to be the early chapters, and being able to trace the slow journey the author takes from civil rights to making bombs.
The cult like attitude of the Weather Underground, and particularly their sequel policies, made for difficult reading and I feel sad for many of the young people trapped in the chaos left by their leaders. That said, the book does a great job of conveying the sense that the Weathermen's violence was in response not only to the violence in Vietnam, but also the horrific violence meted out against black activists of the time.
I do feel that the author holds back many of the raw, intense emotions that she must have felt. She comes across rather methodical and dispassionate, particularly when discussing her relationship with her family.
I also feel that Wilkerson was more actively combative and radical in her personal life than she let's on. She provided glimpses of this, enough glimpses that I do not think she would have been a particularly nice person to be around back then.
None of which distracts from the fact I learnt a lot and I'm glad I read this account from a radical female voice who took "the next step" towards revolution that most of us never will.
December 15, 2020
Everything that ever bugged me even a little bit about SDS and the Weather Underground gets scorched under the concentrated sunlight from Wilkerson's magnifying glass. Though the real strength of this memoir isn't about the politics, or the tactical and strategical dead ends, it's how someone with those politics can find themselves in a kind of cult, placing blind faith in leaders and behind-closed doors decisions. How someone who is burning herself up in a struggle for peace can become committed to violence and find themselves nodding enthusiastically "yes" when critics accuse her of being on a "death-trip." On the one hand, it's all deeply sad. On the other, Wilkerson eventually found the path back to herself so this can be not only a road map of what to avoid but maybe also help if certain readers recognize bits of themselves here. Cultish death-trips exist all over the political playing fields so this book deserves a wide readership.
One thought I had while reading this, and it's probably not an original thought, was that in a way the Weathermen and women were playing a kind of blackface game: Trying to talk and act like the Black Panthers. Meanwhile the Panthers were just like, "Please stop. You are not helping."
One thought I had while reading this, and it's probably not an original thought, was that in a way the Weathermen and women were playing a kind of blackface game: Trying to talk and act like the Black Panthers. Meanwhile the Panthers were just like, "Please stop. You are not helping."
June 18, 2024
okay, im not the type of bitch to write a long ass goodreads review, but this book has given me whiplash. i think cathy wilkerson has misunderstood the appeal of a memoir, because this shit is so detached it’s like insane. she’s like “i know we’re doing wrong things but i was dating the most aggressive person in the group and i also continued making bombs after everyone died <3”
also, why completely omit kathy boudin? what are her feelings on bill ayers? why not mention ron fliegelman by name? we as the readers understand you’re an intelligent and politically conscious person, but i am none the wiser on why you did the things you did. at the same time, im fairly certain this memoir is the only reason anyone may understand terry robbins’ motivation that day in the townhouse. but his painting isn’t cohesive. he was sweet and kind and earnest, but beat his girlfriend?? what did he say that pissed people off?? seems to me like all weathermen memoirs are filled with rhetoric and shares no actual emotions.
also, why completely omit kathy boudin? what are her feelings on bill ayers? why not mention ron fliegelman by name? we as the readers understand you’re an intelligent and politically conscious person, but i am none the wiser on why you did the things you did. at the same time, im fairly certain this memoir is the only reason anyone may understand terry robbins’ motivation that day in the townhouse. but his painting isn’t cohesive. he was sweet and kind and earnest, but beat his girlfriend?? what did he say that pissed people off?? seems to me like all weathermen memoirs are filled with rhetoric and shares no actual emotions.
August 12, 2017
This is a memoir of both one person's life, - her thoughts, actions, doubts, and evolution. It is also a history of an era, a movement, and a zeitgeist. I didn't give it more stars only because the detailed history of SDS could have been better edited. I bogged down in the minutiae. Once I got to the Weatherman part it flowed more easily and became compelling. I did want to know about her relationship with her father and step-mother, after their townhouse and everything in it had been destroyed by the weatherman accidental explosion. She makes clear her continuing emotions and thoughts about her three friends who were killed in the disaster, but doesn't mention whether or not she reconciled with her father after she came out from underground and turned herself in. The story feels very pertinent to current history, in terms of better understanding extremist movements.
June 2, 2023
Me as I started to read this book and as I look back at this now, i don't recall why I started to read it. That being said, what was interesting was her life with her family and how she grew up during the same time as my mother. That did appeal to me. Unfortunately and as expected , I found myself bored by the social side of the book. And the fact of being involved with such violent actions and events doesn't help.
March 29, 2020
For someone who was in the WUO leadership, and was even their #2 bomb-maker, Wilkerson sure doesn't go into too much detail about any of it. Way too heady and analysis-heavy for my tastes. Read Susan Stern's memoir instead.
July 10, 2019
Well written but the sheer audacity of Wilkerson and her compatriots in rationalizing murder and terrorism is disturbing.
June 11, 2008
This is probably the most important book on the Weathermen written by one of its participants, tackling the many difficult inner complexities and questions that haunted the explosive project while remaining deeply committed to progressive social change and anti-racist organizing. In the end, this book taught me quite directly how and why the WUO went astray, and how a lack of open and participatory democracy can distort even the brightest of movements.
Wilkerson starts off slow by talking a lot of her middle-class childhood, and first stumblings into activism at Swarthmore College, supporting poor blacks organizing in Chester through the ERAP project there, and winding up in SDS as the Vietnam War heats up. A few years later, Wilkerson wanders even more clumsily into becoming the editor of SDS' weekly paper New Left Notes, just in time for SDS' grappling with the emergence of women's liberation. She then spins off into the orbit of Weatherman, again accidentally stumbling into joining their cadre in Chicago just before the Days of Rage "Bring the War Home" through street fighting with police.
Here the book becomes deeply enthralling, full of enigma as Wilkerson delves deeper into the unique and strange cult-like Leninism of Weather, all the while questioning why the rhetoric and macho posturing of imminent revolution and armed struggle doesn't match her inner voice. In this inner conflict, the desire to belong and to sacrifice everything as a privileged white person for the national liberation movements of Third World peoples and blacks within the US, leads Wilkerson to silence that inner questioning voice and to commit passively to do whatever the Weather leadership (who appear to know what they're doing) tell her. Despite the apparent flaws of Weather politics, Wilkerson lets her attraction to certain male leaders and the appeal of being part of a revolutionary vanguard convince her to fatefully arrange for her estranged father's townhouse to become the setting for a Weather collective to haphazardly build bombs which were to be used to blow up a military Officer's ball, and the rest is history.
Wilkerson, an accidental survivor of the ensuing blast, writes with a determination and a wise clarity about those events that defined an era of resistance to US imperialism, and the errors taken by impatient movement leaders which contributed to the general defeat of the left over the next several decades. Now, at a time when the US is again openly asserting its imperial aims, a nuanced and complex understanding of where the old SDS went wrong is desperately needed, and Wilkerson here makes a major contribution to our understanding by asking tough questions, like
How do we build a revolutionary movement in the heart of Empire that is democratic and liberatory, while moving with sufficient urgency to stop the assault on the globe?
What is the role of privileged whites (and students) in supporting the liberation of blacks, Latinos and other oppressed nationalities when those groups demand self-sufficiency and separation from white involvement?
How can movement organizations sustain necessary militancy and collective structure (especially in the face of state repression), while also remaining supportive and nurturing of individual voices, particularly those of women, queer folks, trans folks, youth, people of color, working class folks, and others who have been silenced by dominant society?
What does revolution even mean in the post-industrial US?
Wilkerson starts off slow by talking a lot of her middle-class childhood, and first stumblings into activism at Swarthmore College, supporting poor blacks organizing in Chester through the ERAP project there, and winding up in SDS as the Vietnam War heats up. A few years later, Wilkerson wanders even more clumsily into becoming the editor of SDS' weekly paper New Left Notes, just in time for SDS' grappling with the emergence of women's liberation. She then spins off into the orbit of Weatherman, again accidentally stumbling into joining their cadre in Chicago just before the Days of Rage "Bring the War Home" through street fighting with police.
Here the book becomes deeply enthralling, full of enigma as Wilkerson delves deeper into the unique and strange cult-like Leninism of Weather, all the while questioning why the rhetoric and macho posturing of imminent revolution and armed struggle doesn't match her inner voice. In this inner conflict, the desire to belong and to sacrifice everything as a privileged white person for the national liberation movements of Third World peoples and blacks within the US, leads Wilkerson to silence that inner questioning voice and to commit passively to do whatever the Weather leadership (who appear to know what they're doing) tell her. Despite the apparent flaws of Weather politics, Wilkerson lets her attraction to certain male leaders and the appeal of being part of a revolutionary vanguard convince her to fatefully arrange for her estranged father's townhouse to become the setting for a Weather collective to haphazardly build bombs which were to be used to blow up a military Officer's ball, and the rest is history.
Wilkerson, an accidental survivor of the ensuing blast, writes with a determination and a wise clarity about those events that defined an era of resistance to US imperialism, and the errors taken by impatient movement leaders which contributed to the general defeat of the left over the next several decades. Now, at a time when the US is again openly asserting its imperial aims, a nuanced and complex understanding of where the old SDS went wrong is desperately needed, and Wilkerson here makes a major contribution to our understanding by asking tough questions, like
How do we build a revolutionary movement in the heart of Empire that is democratic and liberatory, while moving with sufficient urgency to stop the assault on the globe?
What is the role of privileged whites (and students) in supporting the liberation of blacks, Latinos and other oppressed nationalities when those groups demand self-sufficiency and separation from white involvement?
How can movement organizations sustain necessary militancy and collective structure (especially in the face of state repression), while also remaining supportive and nurturing of individual voices, particularly those of women, queer folks, trans folks, youth, people of color, working class folks, and others who have been silenced by dominant society?
What does revolution even mean in the post-industrial US?
September 3, 2015
I was among those who came of age in the 60s, though I was not quite old enough to full comprehend everything that was happening among groups such as the SDS as its offshoot, Weatherman. I was actually alerted to this book through a mention in John Strausbaugh’s history of Greenwich Village, called (aptly) The Village.
Cathy Wilkerson doesn’t quite capture the electricity of the times she portrays, but she has given us a serviceable memoir and an important one too, coming as it does from someone who was part of the movement for many years. Those who know their 60s history will recall Wilkerson as the person who, in the company of several others, used her father’s four-story Greenwich Village townhouse as a staging ground for making explosives; the subsequent accidental explosion demolished the entire townhouse and is now part and parcel of the Weather Underground’s lore.
Flying Close to the Sun reads more as chronicle than history. It could have been shorter by a lot; up until the chapter on the Weathermen late in the book, it slogs along with action after action, city after city, campus after campus, all eventually melding into a tedious blur. There is much repetition of Wilkerson’s reflections: over and over again we hear how she and her colleagues were too naïve to understand the bigger picture, or how she didn’t see how violence would rally people to the cause yet accepted the leadership to know what they were doing. I wish there had been less telling and more showing. What did the Weatherman’s offices and houses look like, smell like, feel like? Granted that this memoir focuses more on ideology, philosophy, and the organization-as-organization. Still, the book is long on chronicle but short on descriptive prose. The author’s affect, in sharp contrast to the adrenaline electricity of the time, is often remarkably flat. Perhaps, given her own numbness depicted towards the end of her time in Weatherman, that is not surprising.
On the plus side, I came away with insights into the SDS, Weatherman, and Wilkerson herself. Raised to believe that a woman should fit certain societal roles, she rebelled against that upbringing and ended up advocating for women’s causes. Delving into philosophers of violence shaped the grid through which she saw violent revolution as the only force capable of creating systemic change of an oppressive, colonial system. (I found myself wanting to read the authors that were formative for her, such as Franz Fanon.) The ultimate lack of coherent thinking that characterized the organization is made clear, along with such troubling aspects as double standards of living between leaders and others, and the “need-to-know” principle which kept many in the dark in terms of strategy and larger vision — and blind to whether there was in fact any coherent larger vision at all.
There are other memoirs from some of the key players, such as Mark Rudd’s Underground. I have not read it and so cannot compare it with Flying Close to the Sun. As for Wilkerson’s book, I would have liked to have given it three-and-a-half stars, but when whole numbers are the only option, it’s not a four-star book for reasons I have given above. But it is an important one that deserves to be read by anyone who wants to understand more about the SDS and Weatherman. Certainly those who lived through that era will benefit (I think I now understand a high school classmate who told me I should visit Cuba before criticizing it); perhaps others will too.
Cathy Wilkerson doesn’t quite capture the electricity of the times she portrays, but she has given us a serviceable memoir and an important one too, coming as it does from someone who was part of the movement for many years. Those who know their 60s history will recall Wilkerson as the person who, in the company of several others, used her father’s four-story Greenwich Village townhouse as a staging ground for making explosives; the subsequent accidental explosion demolished the entire townhouse and is now part and parcel of the Weather Underground’s lore.
Flying Close to the Sun reads more as chronicle than history. It could have been shorter by a lot; up until the chapter on the Weathermen late in the book, it slogs along with action after action, city after city, campus after campus, all eventually melding into a tedious blur. There is much repetition of Wilkerson’s reflections: over and over again we hear how she and her colleagues were too naïve to understand the bigger picture, or how she didn’t see how violence would rally people to the cause yet accepted the leadership to know what they were doing. I wish there had been less telling and more showing. What did the Weatherman’s offices and houses look like, smell like, feel like? Granted that this memoir focuses more on ideology, philosophy, and the organization-as-organization. Still, the book is long on chronicle but short on descriptive prose. The author’s affect, in sharp contrast to the adrenaline electricity of the time, is often remarkably flat. Perhaps, given her own numbness depicted towards the end of her time in Weatherman, that is not surprising.
On the plus side, I came away with insights into the SDS, Weatherman, and Wilkerson herself. Raised to believe that a woman should fit certain societal roles, she rebelled against that upbringing and ended up advocating for women’s causes. Delving into philosophers of violence shaped the grid through which she saw violent revolution as the only force capable of creating systemic change of an oppressive, colonial system. (I found myself wanting to read the authors that were formative for her, such as Franz Fanon.) The ultimate lack of coherent thinking that characterized the organization is made clear, along with such troubling aspects as double standards of living between leaders and others, and the “need-to-know” principle which kept many in the dark in terms of strategy and larger vision — and blind to whether there was in fact any coherent larger vision at all.
There are other memoirs from some of the key players, such as Mark Rudd’s Underground. I have not read it and so cannot compare it with Flying Close to the Sun. As for Wilkerson’s book, I would have liked to have given it three-and-a-half stars, but when whole numbers are the only option, it’s not a four-star book for reasons I have given above. But it is an important one that deserves to be read by anyone who wants to understand more about the SDS and Weatherman. Certainly those who lived through that era will benefit (I think I now understand a high school classmate who told me I should visit Cuba before criticizing it); perhaps others will too.
May 15, 2009
The Weathermen were an offshoot of Students for a Democratic Society, one of the 1960s' most active anti-war groups. But the Weathermen differed with their radical counterparts in calling for revolution against the United States immediately -- first, because political conditions, they felt, were right, and second, to draw police attention off the Black Panther Party and African-American organizers. The Weathermen waged a largely successful guerrilla campaign in the United States,
Author Wilkerson was intimately involved in the Weathermen. She eventually served prison time for crimes committed during that period, after coming out of hiding in 1980 and turning herself in. Wilkerson's life, activism and the tumultuous period in which the Weathermen operated are the subjects of this book.
Wilkerson writes about her personal growth, political contradictions and struggle to find a place in a revolutionary movement that was largely male dominated and filled with its own contradictions. Inside herself, Wilkerson fights feelings of guilt over her well-off status, and questions the rhetoric of the Weathermen in comparison to the practices she sees in the organization. Many of its members, though intelligent and psychologically strong, were involved in activities most people would never experience, and all often faced varied political, moral and ethical questions, which Wilkerson discusses candidly. This text contains her firsthand account of the 1970 Greenwich Village explosion that catapulted the Weathermen into the national spotlight. In addition, this is one of the few books on the Weathermen in which the author so forwardly addresses the status of men in power and the position of women in the group. At times, Wilkerson's recollections are less than flattering, Yet, it is these stories, and the other tales told as part of a one-of-a-kind life journey, that make this text worth reading.
Author Wilkerson was intimately involved in the Weathermen. She eventually served prison time for crimes committed during that period, after coming out of hiding in 1980 and turning herself in. Wilkerson's life, activism and the tumultuous period in which the Weathermen operated are the subjects of this book.
Wilkerson writes about her personal growth, political contradictions and struggle to find a place in a revolutionary movement that was largely male dominated and filled with its own contradictions. Inside herself, Wilkerson fights feelings of guilt over her well-off status, and questions the rhetoric of the Weathermen in comparison to the practices she sees in the organization. Many of its members, though intelligent and psychologically strong, were involved in activities most people would never experience, and all often faced varied political, moral and ethical questions, which Wilkerson discusses candidly. This text contains her firsthand account of the 1970 Greenwich Village explosion that catapulted the Weathermen into the national spotlight. In addition, this is one of the few books on the Weathermen in which the author so forwardly addresses the status of men in power and the position of women in the group. At times, Wilkerson's recollections are less than flattering, Yet, it is these stories, and the other tales told as part of a one-of-a-kind life journey, that make this text worth reading.
November 5, 2008
i was so psyched for this book, & it lived up to my expectations in terms of the story, but it failed dismally when it came to the editing. cathy wilkerson was a member of SDS who was kind of begrudgingly recruited into the weather underground in early 1970. it was her father's new york townhouse that was blown sky-high in a tragic accident as her cell built bombs in the basement. she survived (obvs) & disappeared into the underground, where she lived for years, even after she left weather behind. she decided to have a child & became a fugitive single mother, moving around the country & struggling to support her young daughter with assorted service jobs. eventually she surfaced & now works as a math teacher, trying to empower young people (especially young women) to learn math. she got interested in math after the failed bombing. she writes that the explosion made her realize how important it is for people to understand math & science. as interesting as the book was though, i wanted to take a red pen to the whole thing. it switches tense a lot. i got the sense that wilkerson is still really traumatized by some of the hell she went through underground in the 70s. she uses a completely different voice when writing about those times. the weird tone issues, & the psychobabble feel to the story, made it kind of hard to pay attention sometimes. it took me a lot longer to finish this book than it should have, because i kept getting distracted by weird editing issues. but...it was a gazillion times better than bill ayers's book. of all the weather biographies i have read (& i've read them all), i think this was my favorite.
December 28, 2008
Flying too close to the sun
Cathy Wilkerson gives a thoughtful memoir of her life in SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) and the Weather Underground. She also provides enough personal background to explain how she became involved in US radical politics in the 1960s. Her final chapter Reentry gives a brief summary of her life afterwards.
Wilkerson is famous for being one of the two people to survive the 1970 explosion of the Greenwich Village townhouse where a bomb was being assembled. This incident is described in chapter 10 of the book.
She is careful not to discuss the motivations or actions of others in the movement which, while understandable, gives a certain limitation to her story. Yet as the reflections of an American radical this is an excellent book, providing insight into her personality, the movement, and the events of the time. What stands out clearest in this writing is the support that Wilkerson and the Weather Underground wanted to show for the Black Panthers in the fight against Racism in the United States. The hardest part for readers to understand today may be the Maoist/Leninist revolutionary tactics that were the signature belief of this faction of the radical left.
In the opening pages of the book Wilkerson quotes Carl Sandburg:
"You can't hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?"
Cathy Wilkerson gives a thoughtful memoir of her life in SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) and the Weather Underground. She also provides enough personal background to explain how she became involved in US radical politics in the 1960s. Her final chapter Reentry gives a brief summary of her life afterwards.
Wilkerson is famous for being one of the two people to survive the 1970 explosion of the Greenwich Village townhouse where a bomb was being assembled. This incident is described in chapter 10 of the book.
She is careful not to discuss the motivations or actions of others in the movement which, while understandable, gives a certain limitation to her story. Yet as the reflections of an American radical this is an excellent book, providing insight into her personality, the movement, and the events of the time. What stands out clearest in this writing is the support that Wilkerson and the Weather Underground wanted to show for the Black Panthers in the fight against Racism in the United States. The hardest part for readers to understand today may be the Maoist/Leninist revolutionary tactics that were the signature belief of this faction of the radical left.
In the opening pages of the book Wilkerson quotes Carl Sandburg:
"You can't hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without hope?"
May 10, 2011
Admittedly, I skimmed over large segments of this book that languished in political analysis of which I'm already familiar. What I was looking for here were the more narrative and psychological bits. What is the process by which an upper middle-class, college educated, ethical person committed to social justice clicks over into the realm of violence? The answer to that - if there is one - is elusive, but seems to be a reaction to years and years of sustained effort and unsatisfied rage, in an atmosphere where political activists were murdered with more and more ferocity by the powers that be.
What were meetings and personal dynamics like in the Weatherman/Weather Underground organization? What does it feel like to be forced to go underground, to be closely tied with the comrades who died in the townhouse - in your parents' townhouse! - and to come to terms over the course of many lost years with the regret? The answers are too long, too painful, and nuanced to repeat here, but Cathy Wilkerson does a good job portaying herself as a young, passionate, sometimes confused and ultimately misguided fighter.
What were meetings and personal dynamics like in the Weatherman/Weather Underground organization? What does it feel like to be forced to go underground, to be closely tied with the comrades who died in the townhouse - in your parents' townhouse! - and to come to terms over the course of many lost years with the regret? The answers are too long, too painful, and nuanced to repeat here, but Cathy Wilkerson does a good job portaying herself as a young, passionate, sometimes confused and ultimately misguided fighter.
April 4, 2009
I wanted to read this book to understand the progression from middle class white college student, to terrorist--member of the Weathermen. Wilkerson does an excellent job of tracing her thinking through the sixties, and the forces that pushed her to giving up her critical thinking, which finally resulted in the explosion at her father's townhouse and the death of three other Weathermen. The group think that the SDS and then Weathermen partake in is fascinating to read. I kept thinking that clearly these people had not read Orwell, a little Animal Farm would have helped them see their own transformation from protesting to controlling. Particularly for the women in the group, who are willing to let the men tell them how to be liberated women, including group sex sessions and not ever questioning the "leaders" decisions. The end of the book is thin--her reflection on her life and motives becomes distinctly less deep then more recent the events. But overall a great read, and a glimpse into a world I knew nothing about.
August 14, 2018
Re-read, 08/2018: Of all the firsthand accounts by Weather Underground members I’ve read, this may be my favorite after this current reading. Wilkerson’s tale focuses much more on her upbringing and political growth, a fact I did not thoroughly appreciate the first time around. Her brutal honesty about the failings of her own ideologies and those of the Weather organization as a whole are refreshing and thought provoking. Even more enjoyable and scintillating the second time around.
WIlkerson's memoirs of her days as a young activist in both SDS and the Weather Underground Organization is not the most captivating read, but still offers an interesting perspective on this turbulent time. I honestly thought that the book was weighted too much in the direction of her activities before joining WUO; it seemed like once she joined Weather, the book was in a mad dash to the finish, with not nearly as much detail provided as her times in SDS. Overall, though, a worthwhile read, and yet another perspective on one of the most interesting times in our recent history.
WIlkerson's memoirs of her days as a young activist in both SDS and the Weather Underground Organization is not the most captivating read, but still offers an interesting perspective on this turbulent time. I honestly thought that the book was weighted too much in the direction of her activities before joining WUO; it seemed like once she joined Weather, the book was in a mad dash to the finish, with not nearly as much detail provided as her times in SDS. Overall, though, a worthwhile read, and yet another perspective on one of the most interesting times in our recent history.
February 28, 2011
Disclosure: The book was due at the library so I only quickly skimmed the last half.
Cathy Wilkerson is a few years older than I am but I identified with the naive female middle class white student frustrated by the war in Vietnam and racial injustice. I thought she captured the campus mood of the 60s very well. However, after she graduated from college and became a full time activist, I found I lost interest. I fear my eyes glazed over at the descriptions of internal SDS and Weatherman political and philosophical discussions. This is probably a great first person memoir for a 60's and 70's history buff, but there was more detail than I cared for. Like others, I would have loved to hear more about her later life.
For a better book on this era try Underground: My Life with SDS and the Weathermen by Mark Rudd
Cathy Wilkerson is a few years older than I am but I identified with the naive female middle class white student frustrated by the war in Vietnam and racial injustice. I thought she captured the campus mood of the 60s very well. However, after she graduated from college and became a full time activist, I found I lost interest. I fear my eyes glazed over at the descriptions of internal SDS and Weatherman political and philosophical discussions. This is probably a great first person memoir for a 60's and 70's history buff, but there was more detail than I cared for. Like others, I would have loved to hear more about her later life.
For a better book on this era try Underground: My Life with SDS and the Weathermen by Mark Rudd
February 4, 2014
Cathy Wilkerson started out as a white, middle-class, somewhat liberal young woman who became involved in the more radical politics of the Students for a Democratic Society, then eventually renounced the hope of nonviolent change in favor of the Weather Underground's terrorist bombings. A very good account of the chaotic state of the radical left as different factions and causes tried to work together, and of Wilkerson's own shift to the more extreme violence-is-the-solution view (she's very good at recounting all the counter-arguments she ignored at the time). A bit overly detailed at times in all the internecine power struggles, otherwise excellent.
July 1, 2011
a thoroughly indepth and serious look at one woman's experiences in the new left of the 1960s, which eventually led to her involvement with the weathermen and being forced to go underground. wilkerson really did put her heart and soul into writing this book and it's obvious. she doesn't leave anything out (which can make the book a bit to trudge through at times) but it's worth it in the end. a highly recommended look at life in the radical left of the 60s & 70s by someone who wasn't always so sure of her involvement or the methods by which actions were completed.
March 2, 2008
I'm loving the build-up of her memoir. I often wonder how someone who comes from a fairly comfortable moderate background is actualized into increasingly radical behavior. Her intelligence is so clear. Her recollections of taking place in civil rights work during her college years is very meaningful and makes me feel sad that we seem to be in a moment talking about change while simultaneously sitting on a lot of hands.
So far the best thing I've read this year.
So far the best thing I've read this year.
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