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Wasn't That a Time: The Weavers, the Blacklist, and the Battle for the Soul of America
The dramatic untold story of the Weavers, the hit-making folk-pop quartet destroyed with the aid of the United States government -- and who changed the world, anyway
Following a series of top-ten hits that became instant American standards, the Weavers dissolved at the height of their fame. Wasn't That a Time: The Weavers, the Blacklist, and the Battle for the Soul of America details the remarkable rise of Pete Seeger's unlikely band of folk heroes, from basement hootenannies to the top of the charts, and the harassment campaign that brought them down.
Exploring how a pop group's harmonies might be heard as a threat worthy of decades of investigation by the FBI, Wasn't That a Time turns the black-and-white 1950s into vivid color, using the Weavers to illuminate a dark and complex period of American history. With origins in the radical folk collective the Almanac Singers and the ambitious People's Songs, the singing activists in the Weavers set out to change the world with songs as their weapons, pioneering the use of music as a transformative political organizing tool.
Using previously unseen journals and letters, unreleased recordings, once-secret government documents, and other archival research, Jesse Jarnow uncovers the immense hopes, incredible pressures, and daily struggles of the four distinct and often unharmonious personalities at the heart of the Weavers.
In an era defined by a sharp political divide that feels all too familiar, the Weavers became heroes. With a class -- and race -- conscious global vision that now makes them seem like time travelers from the twenty-first century, the Weavers became a direct influence on a generation of musicians and listeners, teaching the power of eclectic songs and joyous, participatory harmonies.
Following a series of top-ten hits that became instant American standards, the Weavers dissolved at the height of their fame. Wasn't That a Time: The Weavers, the Blacklist, and the Battle for the Soul of America details the remarkable rise of Pete Seeger's unlikely band of folk heroes, from basement hootenannies to the top of the charts, and the harassment campaign that brought them down.
Exploring how a pop group's harmonies might be heard as a threat worthy of decades of investigation by the FBI, Wasn't That a Time turns the black-and-white 1950s into vivid color, using the Weavers to illuminate a dark and complex period of American history. With origins in the radical folk collective the Almanac Singers and the ambitious People's Songs, the singing activists in the Weavers set out to change the world with songs as their weapons, pioneering the use of music as a transformative political organizing tool.
Using previously unseen journals and letters, unreleased recordings, once-secret government documents, and other archival research, Jesse Jarnow uncovers the immense hopes, incredible pressures, and daily struggles of the four distinct and often unharmonious personalities at the heart of the Weavers.
In an era defined by a sharp political divide that feels all too familiar, the Weavers became heroes. With a class -- and race -- conscious global vision that now makes them seem like time travelers from the twenty-first century, the Weavers became a direct influence on a generation of musicians and listeners, teaching the power of eclectic songs and joyous, participatory harmonies.
304 pages, Hardcover
Published November 6, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 27 of 27 reviews
September 14, 2018
We sang the songs in elementary school music classes.
I Ride an Old Paint
Drill Ye Tarriers, Drill
Big Rock Candy Mountain
The Erie Canal
On Top of Old Smokey
Paddy Works on the Railway
And in scouts and church camp.
Michael, Row the Boat Ashore
Kumbaya
If I Had a Hammer
Little Boxes
We heard the songs on the radio and played them on our record players and hi-fis and cassette players and CD players.
This Land is your Land
Good Night, Irene
Turn! Turn! Turn!
Kisses Sweeter Than Wine
Tom Dooley
Guantanamo
Generations of musicians have recorded the songs.
Where Have All the Flowers Gone
Wimoweh
Sloop John B
I sang St. James Infirmary and Leatherwing Bat as bedtime songs.
On family trips we sang to Dangerous Songs, belting out Garbage and Beans in My Ears.
In a live concert at Penn's Landing in Philadelphia, Pete Seeger taught the crowd The Garden Song.
The music sang and recorded by Pete Seeger definitely imparted certain values. And that is exactly what Pete Seeger, Ronnie Gilbert, Lee Hays, and Fred Hellerman intended. "Cultural equity and global harmony" were the suspect values lurking behind the Weaver's music. It doesn't sound dangerous, just mainstream liberal-progressive stuff. Except those values had led Pete and Ronnie and Lee and Fred to join the Communist party and although they had dropped out, they could not escape the association. And being pro-union, anti-war, globalists extolling the common man in those days was just as bad as wearing a big red "S" for Socialist.
Wasn't That a Time by Jesse Jarnow is the story of the Weavers and the early folk music scene, presenting their battles with the House Un-American Committee and Blacklisting.
It was an age of fear. President Eisenhower had denounced Communists as traitors and a threat. Idealists like Pete Seeger, Ronnie Gilbert, and Lee Hayes were attracted to the Communist party for its high ideals of equality. Events in the USSR disquieted American communists and they drifted away from the Party. But they held onto the values which in time became mainstream progressive liberal values.
Meanwhile, the Weaver brought Folk Music from square 'ethnic' music to mainstream, dominating the airwaves and influencing a generation of younger musicians, even while turning it into counter-culture protest music.
Music--Art--was a weapon, Pete Seeger believed. And his goal was to impact how Americans thought, through music, changing our values.
Although not strictly a biography, we learn about the Weaver's personal lives, their demons and struggles, the arc of their careers. We learn how their music changed as they struggled to walk the fine line between commercial success and staying true to their values. Pete left the group and several talented young men replaced Pete, but in the end, the group broke up.
So many folk singer's names appeared: Huddie Ledbetter, Josh White, Malvina Reynolds, Paul Robeson, Oscar Brand, Harry Belafonte, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Dave Von Ronk, Alan Lomax, The Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul and Mary, Alan Arkin, Will Geer, Holly Near--and of course, Woody Guthrie and his son Arlo.
Seeger became an environmentalist activist with the Clearwater Hudson River restoration. We loved singing with the songs on the Clearwater album--"You can't eat the oysters in New Haven Harbor, you can't eat the oysters that live in the bay, 'cause New Haven sewage is dumping down on 'em, if I were an oyster I'd get out today."
As I read the book I realized how deeply the Weavers music changed America. I remembered the last time we saw Seeger live, thousands under a huge tent along the Delaware River, hanging on his every word, being taught new songs and singing along with his standards. We felt a community of spirit in the singing. How many of us knew or remembered that Seeger had appeared before the House and was convicted of perjury?
I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
I Ride an Old Paint
Drill Ye Tarriers, Drill
Big Rock Candy Mountain
The Erie Canal
On Top of Old Smokey
Paddy Works on the Railway
And in scouts and church camp.
Michael, Row the Boat Ashore
Kumbaya
If I Had a Hammer
Little Boxes
We heard the songs on the radio and played them on our record players and hi-fis and cassette players and CD players.
This Land is your Land
Good Night, Irene
Turn! Turn! Turn!
Kisses Sweeter Than Wine
Tom Dooley
Guantanamo
Generations of musicians have recorded the songs.
Where Have All the Flowers Gone
Wimoweh
Sloop John B
I sang St. James Infirmary and Leatherwing Bat as bedtime songs.
On family trips we sang to Dangerous Songs, belting out Garbage and Beans in My Ears.
In a live concert at Penn's Landing in Philadelphia, Pete Seeger taught the crowd The Garden Song.
The music sang and recorded by Pete Seeger definitely imparted certain values. And that is exactly what Pete Seeger, Ronnie Gilbert, Lee Hays, and Fred Hellerman intended. "Cultural equity and global harmony" were the suspect values lurking behind the Weaver's music. It doesn't sound dangerous, just mainstream liberal-progressive stuff. Except those values had led Pete and Ronnie and Lee and Fred to join the Communist party and although they had dropped out, they could not escape the association. And being pro-union, anti-war, globalists extolling the common man in those days was just as bad as wearing a big red "S" for Socialist.
Wasn't That a Time by Jesse Jarnow is the story of the Weavers and the early folk music scene, presenting their battles with the House Un-American Committee and Blacklisting.
It was an age of fear. President Eisenhower had denounced Communists as traitors and a threat. Idealists like Pete Seeger, Ronnie Gilbert, and Lee Hayes were attracted to the Communist party for its high ideals of equality. Events in the USSR disquieted American communists and they drifted away from the Party. But they held onto the values which in time became mainstream progressive liberal values.
Meanwhile, the Weaver brought Folk Music from square 'ethnic' music to mainstream, dominating the airwaves and influencing a generation of younger musicians, even while turning it into counter-culture protest music.
Music--Art--was a weapon, Pete Seeger believed. And his goal was to impact how Americans thought, through music, changing our values.
Although not strictly a biography, we learn about the Weaver's personal lives, their demons and struggles, the arc of their careers. We learn how their music changed as they struggled to walk the fine line between commercial success and staying true to their values. Pete left the group and several talented young men replaced Pete, but in the end, the group broke up.
So many folk singer's names appeared: Huddie Ledbetter, Josh White, Malvina Reynolds, Paul Robeson, Oscar Brand, Harry Belafonte, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Dave Von Ronk, Alan Lomax, The Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul and Mary, Alan Arkin, Will Geer, Holly Near--and of course, Woody Guthrie and his son Arlo.
Seeger became an environmentalist activist with the Clearwater Hudson River restoration. We loved singing with the songs on the Clearwater album--"You can't eat the oysters in New Haven Harbor, you can't eat the oysters that live in the bay, 'cause New Haven sewage is dumping down on 'em, if I were an oyster I'd get out today."
As I read the book I realized how deeply the Weavers music changed America. I remembered the last time we saw Seeger live, thousands under a huge tent along the Delaware River, hanging on his every word, being taught new songs and singing along with his standards. We felt a community of spirit in the singing. How many of us knew or remembered that Seeger had appeared before the House and was convicted of perjury?
I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.
November 18, 2022
Marking this one did-not-finish at page 124.
The premise sounded interesting: a very popular musical group whose socialist ideals ran afoul of the government during the Red Scare at the beginning of the Cold War. It’s what I call a ‘social or cultural history.’ Unfortunately this seems to be a borderline-hagiography of The Weavers.
It might not be so bad except it’s clearly written with fans of the group in mind. I knew nothing of them to begin with. I’d heard of Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie (I think), but didn’t know anything about them. The book isn’t a good introduction to them (except there seems to be some hero-worship, especially toward Guthrie). In fact, it’s not a good introduction to the topics of folk music or anti-communism either. I wasn’t even exactly sure what constituted “folk music” and had to look it up, and same with “hootenanny,” because neither are ever really defined in the book. But it was the writing style that most turned me off. It pretty much glosses over all the unpalatable aspects of the members of the group, often twisting itself into knots explaining how they “technically” weren’t lying when they made various statements. But when it started mixing in modern terms such as “fake news” and “marginalized,” I decided I’d had enough. It’s just not for me.
The premise sounded interesting: a very popular musical group whose socialist ideals ran afoul of the government during the Red Scare at the beginning of the Cold War. It’s what I call a ‘social or cultural history.’ Unfortunately this seems to be a borderline-hagiography of The Weavers.
It might not be so bad except it’s clearly written with fans of the group in mind. I knew nothing of them to begin with. I’d heard of Pete Seeger and Woody Guthrie (I think), but didn’t know anything about them. The book isn’t a good introduction to them (except there seems to be some hero-worship, especially toward Guthrie). In fact, it’s not a good introduction to the topics of folk music or anti-communism either. I wasn’t even exactly sure what constituted “folk music” and had to look it up, and same with “hootenanny,” because neither are ever really defined in the book. But it was the writing style that most turned me off. It pretty much glosses over all the unpalatable aspects of the members of the group, often twisting itself into knots explaining how they “technically” weren’t lying when they made various statements. But when it started mixing in modern terms such as “fake news” and “marginalized,” I decided I’d had enough. It’s just not for me.
February 19, 2019
Such a fascinating story -- really deserved better writing. I only read about a third. I will probably take it out of the library again and give it another chance.
January 14, 2021
Reading Jesse Jarnow’s “Wasn’t That A Time”, I tried to imagine a group like The Weavers, who utizilied obscure folk songs from regions across America as well as around the world, being anything more than a niche indie band today with the bland, mass produced and auto-tuned schlock that dominates popular music. Could the rearrangement of a Spanish Civil War song (sang in Spanish) find any kind of audience? How about an Israeli dance melody (sand in Hebrew and English)? A song from South Africa consisting of yips and shouts and no lyrics?
It’s difficult to imagine them finding an audience.
And yet, this was also the thinking of the music industry in the late 1940’s when The Weavers were not yet on their way to the superstardom they would eventually achieve without (mostly) having to compromise their love of folk music and the social justice causes they rearranged them for. In their hands a folk song from Appalachia could become a song about racial equality. A Spanish Civil War became a song about the unity of all Americans and fighting for the poor and invisible members of society.
This was heady stuff in the late 1940’s and early 1950’s with America not far removed from a hot war in Europe and a cold war agaisnt the Soviet Union that was creeping into all facets of American life. Unsurprisingly, The Weavers were quickly on the FBI’s radar and two of its members would eventually be summoned before the House Un-American Activities Committee, and forced to defend themselves against charges of sedition. They were not the first (among the shall we say, eclectic people, who would eventually testify in one capacity or another were Burl Ives, Ayn Rand, Jackie Robinson, Bertolt Brecht, and yes, The Weavers Pete Seeger.
Seeger’s performance, (he offered to sing one of the songs the committee were grilling them about as they had never actually heard it and he thought it was the best way got them to understand it. That they declined to let him grab the banjo his wife was holding for him and play, is surely one of the many tragedies this committee was responsible for) was a credit to him but the collective toll it would take on him and the group through blacklisting them from performing, most likely contributed to their eventual dissolution over time.
However this book is not really about the government’s persecution of The Weavers as much as it is about The Weavers themselves. I had no idea just how influential their music was (the theme song to The Lion King, Goodnight Irene, The Sloop of the John B, On Top of Old Smokey, If I had a Hammer, and many others all originated with The Weavers reworking traditional folk songs. Pete Seeger himself of course would go on to have a legendary influence on music and American society, partly inspired by his time with the group. It should also be said that The Weavers rearrangements of these songs was not without controversy or ethical dilemmas. While one could argue that The Weavers took songs that would otherwise never be heard and brought them to an audience for the purpose of making society a better and more equitable place. One could also argue that their profiting off of music they didn’t write, despite changing a few lyrics or melodies, is cultural appropriation. I give a lot of credit to the author for not shying away from the issue despite the fact that he is clearly a fan of the group.
Not only was their music influential but they were positively Forrest Gump like in their friendships with an amazing and diverse array of people over multiple decades. I lost track of the names at some point but a few people who they influenced and who influenced them were: Mahatma Ghana, Henry Wallace, Paul Robeson, Leadbelly, Woody Guthrie, and Martin Luther King (there is a great photograph of them together at the Highlander Folk School in the early 1940s).
Jarnow does a wonderful job letting the reader get to know these four strong and extremely people and really care about them not only as musicians but as people as well.
If I gave any issue with this otherwise fine book it’s that jarrow does occasionally let his love of The Weavers interfere with the narrative.
While it’s completely understandable to be outraged by the government’s persecution of innocent Americans, Jarnow inserts more than a few snide or sarcastic remarks when detailing particular incidents. When describing the surveillance of Pete Seeger for example, Jarnow writes of government informant “T-13”:
“Shadow Pete and his vaporous friends kept up with all kinds of new activities in the FBI’s files, continuously nurtured by a dark and trembling ecosystem of informants. T-13 produced a copy of Sing Out! (splendid job, T-13)”
Leaving aside the floridity of the “shadow Pete and his vaporous friends” line, I’m sympathetic to Jarnow’s frustration with how The Weavers were treated, But snarky comments like these were jarring, and really took me out of the wonderful story he “weaves” as it were.
But it is a small quibble in that this is a fascinating look at a band and an era that is sadly not remembered nearly enough. I recommend not only this book to learn more about this wonderful band, but also I recommend anyone to go out and listen to their music. As Pete Seeger said to his inquisitor, it’s the best way to understand who they were.
May 17, 2019
I don’t really enjoy listening to the Weavers’ music¹ ... I’d much rather read about them than listen to them, so this book is just the ticket.
It’s impossible to forget that every song the Weavers did, someone else did better. But the Weavers are a big part of why I (and you, probably) know so many of these songs, and their story is interesting. Jarnow’s book makes great arguments for their historical importance, and (as the subtitle implies) he successfully uses the group as a lens/core-sample to examine wider themes in American culture and politics.
Re. “folk music”, I was familiar with some of the pre-history (Almanac Singers, People’s Songs, Woody Guthrie, Lead Belly), contemporaneous history (Harry Smith, Alan Lomax), and post-history (1960s folk boom to the present). This book fills in fat gaps in between (while doing nice glosses on the before and after).
The early 1950s were a strange time in American pop music; after the dominance of jazz and big bands, before rock and roll, and while blues and country were segregated away. And of course they were a strange time in American politics and economics—a golden age with a horrifying underbelly. The Weavers were smack in the middle of all that. And as New York City fan and resident, I was pleasantly surprised by how much of a New York City story this is.
The Weavers were not always a full time band, even in their most successful era. So, in some ways this book is a story of four individuals and four careers that intermittently intersect. That’s a tougher story to tell, but Jarnow pulls it off.
And then there is the Pete Seeger issue: Seeger is the most famous and most interesting Weaver², but he’d be equally interesting (and perhaps equally famous) if he’d never been a Weaver. Jarnow navigates this well, acknowleging Seeger’s specialness without letting the story run away with him. Jarnow also does a great job of humanizing Seeger, who can sometimes seem more like a force of energy than a human being.
Next to anyone else, Lee Hays would be the interesting guy. He is sad and interesting in this book (and in other reading I’ve found on him since finishing this book). I also discovered perhaps my most favorite Weavers-related music: the home-recorded kiddie music Hays (with Alan Arkin, amongst others) recorded as the Baby Sitters.
Ronnie Gilbert’s life story is fascinating, but I’m not sure I will ever like her singing. And while Fred Hellerman made some good music happen as a producer/arranger/businessman, his story is not so fascinating and neither is his singing.
Jarnow’s writing is mostly enjoyable and clear, striking a great balance between conversational and authoritative. He does have some frustrating storytelling habits, though: burying the lede to build suspense (is that really neccesary in a history book?) and stuffing convoluted chronologies into a single sentence. Arguably makes for more dramatic storytelling, I guess, but can be confusing.
Jarnow is clued in; He writes with an awareness of contemporary culture and all that’s come in between the olden days and now (especially useful when evaluating countercultural scenes; the beats, hippies, and punks didn’t do much these people weren’t doing in the 1930s). He connects the dots between Woody Guthrie and John Cage. He deals with race, gender, disability, etc. with an awareness and sensitivity that would not be there in an older book on the same topic. The book feels very well-researched, and pulls together a lot of threads that I don’t think anyone got around to pulling together before. That said, I do worry about accuracy: there are a number of trivial errors that I caught without trying, so who knows what else is wrong in here (e.g. the book says Joe Hill was hanged rather than shot, refers to Paul Robeson’s “operatic tenor”, and implies that Brooklyn’s Sterling Place is in Brighton Beach).
This book should have a discography (as should all serious biographies of recording artists!). And I would have greatly appreciated some recommended listening links. While I eventually found streaming versions of everything I looked for, it wasn’t quick or easy (and I’m a pretty good digital digger). Finding the bombastic Gordon Jenkins-produced orchestral jukebox hits is tough in a sea of folky live LP versions; and I had to choose search terms very carefully to find the right Baby Sitters.
Good book, though! Especially if you’re intersted in the history of pop culture and the transmission of songs. No need to think the Weavers were any good to find a lot of value here.
---
1. I have to say though, I always like Pete Seeger’s banjo playing. Too bad it’s nearly always accompanied by singing that makes me hold my nose.
2. Though, even Seeger is not the most interesting or accomplished person in this story. Every time Woody Guthrie appears in the narrative, it’s like Omar popping up in The Wire.
It’s impossible to forget that every song the Weavers did, someone else did better. But the Weavers are a big part of why I (and you, probably) know so many of these songs, and their story is interesting. Jarnow’s book makes great arguments for their historical importance, and (as the subtitle implies) he successfully uses the group as a lens/core-sample to examine wider themes in American culture and politics.
Re. “folk music”, I was familiar with some of the pre-history (Almanac Singers, People’s Songs, Woody Guthrie, Lead Belly), contemporaneous history (Harry Smith, Alan Lomax), and post-history (1960s folk boom to the present). This book fills in fat gaps in between (while doing nice glosses on the before and after).
The early 1950s were a strange time in American pop music; after the dominance of jazz and big bands, before rock and roll, and while blues and country were segregated away. And of course they were a strange time in American politics and economics—a golden age with a horrifying underbelly. The Weavers were smack in the middle of all that. And as New York City fan and resident, I was pleasantly surprised by how much of a New York City story this is.
The Weavers were not always a full time band, even in their most successful era. So, in some ways this book is a story of four individuals and four careers that intermittently intersect. That’s a tougher story to tell, but Jarnow pulls it off.
And then there is the Pete Seeger issue: Seeger is the most famous and most interesting Weaver², but he’d be equally interesting (and perhaps equally famous) if he’d never been a Weaver. Jarnow navigates this well, acknowleging Seeger’s specialness without letting the story run away with him. Jarnow also does a great job of humanizing Seeger, who can sometimes seem more like a force of energy than a human being.
Next to anyone else, Lee Hays would be the interesting guy. He is sad and interesting in this book (and in other reading I’ve found on him since finishing this book). I also discovered perhaps my most favorite Weavers-related music: the home-recorded kiddie music Hays (with Alan Arkin, amongst others) recorded as the Baby Sitters.
Ronnie Gilbert’s life story is fascinating, but I’m not sure I will ever like her singing. And while Fred Hellerman made some good music happen as a producer/arranger/businessman, his story is not so fascinating and neither is his singing.
Jarnow’s writing is mostly enjoyable and clear, striking a great balance between conversational and authoritative. He does have some frustrating storytelling habits, though: burying the lede to build suspense (is that really neccesary in a history book?) and stuffing convoluted chronologies into a single sentence. Arguably makes for more dramatic storytelling, I guess, but can be confusing.
Jarnow is clued in; He writes with an awareness of contemporary culture and all that’s come in between the olden days and now (especially useful when evaluating countercultural scenes; the beats, hippies, and punks didn’t do much these people weren’t doing in the 1930s). He connects the dots between Woody Guthrie and John Cage. He deals with race, gender, disability, etc. with an awareness and sensitivity that would not be there in an older book on the same topic. The book feels very well-researched, and pulls together a lot of threads that I don’t think anyone got around to pulling together before. That said, I do worry about accuracy: there are a number of trivial errors that I caught without trying, so who knows what else is wrong in here (e.g. the book says Joe Hill was hanged rather than shot, refers to Paul Robeson’s “operatic tenor”, and implies that Brooklyn’s Sterling Place is in Brighton Beach).
This book should have a discography (as should all serious biographies of recording artists!). And I would have greatly appreciated some recommended listening links. While I eventually found streaming versions of everything I looked for, it wasn’t quick or easy (and I’m a pretty good digital digger). Finding the bombastic Gordon Jenkins-produced orchestral jukebox hits is tough in a sea of folky live LP versions; and I had to choose search terms very carefully to find the right Baby Sitters.
Good book, though! Especially if you’re intersted in the history of pop culture and the transmission of songs. No need to think the Weavers were any good to find a lot of value here.
---
1. I have to say though, I always like Pete Seeger’s banjo playing. Too bad it’s nearly always accompanied by singing that makes me hold my nose.
2. Though, even Seeger is not the most interesting or accomplished person in this story. Every time Woody Guthrie appears in the narrative, it’s like Omar popping up in The Wire.
December 22, 2018
There are certainly historic subjects that map onto the Trump era more easily than HUAC and the Black Lists (60s counterculture, Watergate, the Brown Decades, even the American Civil War come to mind), so I wouldn't call "Wasn't That a Time" completely timely. After all, in this era of so many fake enemies fabricated out of whole cloth (Middle Eastern terror migrants charging through Mexico on foot to our southern border!), HUAC hunted mostly real communists- these folks were largely of the club they were accused of being in, it's just that the club itself wasn't really all it was cracked up to be. While the story isn't one of those "why didn't we learn our lesson then and not have to repeat our mistakes now" sort of situation (though certainly there are lessons here to be learned and undoubtedly we will be complaining about not having learned them again soon enough), there's a lot of pretty great "how did we get from there to here" type history here. First and foremost for me personally, it certainly never occurred to me that you could draw a straight line from Joe Hill and the first folks who thought to use folk songs to unite striking union workers through the socialist/communist folk groups that Woodie Guthrie and young Pete Seeger were in, straight through the folkies who ran the Western New York Jewish day camps I attended as a kid in the 1980s where we all sang "If I Had a Hammer" and "The Circle Game" at daily gatherings. And generally the Weavers fit nicely as a musical bridge between the emergence of early folk/roots/blues of the early 20th century and the emergence of the melange of rock, pop, and folk that evolved through the 50s and 60s. Thinking about hootenannies and sing outs and distributing socialist ditties via newsletter really puts some perspective on how unifying it is to have a social movement built around people together in a place all singing in unison and how empty it feels to have social movements built largely around people sitting alone on their phones hitting "retweet." In a world with fewer and fewer heroes it's awfully nice to spend some time reading about Pete Seeger, a guy who never compromised his values and never had the wrong values and about whom the worst anybody ever seems to be able to say is that he was possibly annoyingly too wonderful. Jarnow captures not just Pete, but all the Weavers, and does the job of giving them all the space and voice they earned as equal members in the group. Not only that, but he does it with electricity- the prose here is so fantastic that I found myself stopping over and over again to take a breather because a sentence had knocked me sideways. I'd say come for the Weavers and stay for the writing, but the writing is so good that you should come for that and what you learn along the way is the bonus.
October 27, 2021
Not sure I would have added the Battle for the Soul of America in the title.
Most people would not have a casual interest in this book unless they grew up in the sixties and they knew there was this big controversy over what constituted "legitimate" folk music. In context, The Weavers DID attempt to hit it big on the charts and they did what almost all folkies did. . .they found songs, changed a few lyrics, shuffled some melodies around, and called them their own creations. But, that sells the book a bit short because there was the real deal of McCarthy, the blacklist, and communism involved here (pay no attention to what is happening today. . .ahem. . .).
Because I grew up a fan of The Kingston Trio, who stole most of their early songs from The Weavers but were not "political," there was some satisfaction when the Trio absolutely exploded out of the box with Tom Dooley and proceeded to leave The Weavers in the dust. In doing so, they made The Weavers the Pete Best of folk music; except for all of the naysayers who said the Trio was not legitimate because they were entertainers (and never claimed to be otherwise--they were in it for the fun).
I ended up learning a lot more about The Weavers than maybe I needed to know. I think if I read a biography of Pete Seeger which included a few chapters of this material, I would have been just as well served.
Jarnow does an excellent job of giving all of the many variations of The Weavers and the various members equal footing in the telling. Most importantly, I learned a heck of a lot about the music business in the fifties, the politics (which I pretty much already knew about), and the relationships between all the members.
But, to paraphrase maybe one of the most important themes of the book regarding the blacklist and the times--the people who took a dim view of The Weavers music and political views were just. . . scared Americans. . . I couldn't help but put that view into the present times.
The people on today's right in America are nothing more than scared Americans. . . scared their way of life has changed forever and their country is slipping slidin' away.
Most people would not have a casual interest in this book unless they grew up in the sixties and they knew there was this big controversy over what constituted "legitimate" folk music. In context, The Weavers DID attempt to hit it big on the charts and they did what almost all folkies did. . .they found songs, changed a few lyrics, shuffled some melodies around, and called them their own creations. But, that sells the book a bit short because there was the real deal of McCarthy, the blacklist, and communism involved here (pay no attention to what is happening today. . .ahem. . .).
Because I grew up a fan of The Kingston Trio, who stole most of their early songs from The Weavers but were not "political," there was some satisfaction when the Trio absolutely exploded out of the box with Tom Dooley and proceeded to leave The Weavers in the dust. In doing so, they made The Weavers the Pete Best of folk music; except for all of the naysayers who said the Trio was not legitimate because they were entertainers (and never claimed to be otherwise--they were in it for the fun).
I ended up learning a lot more about The Weavers than maybe I needed to know. I think if I read a biography of Pete Seeger which included a few chapters of this material, I would have been just as well served.
Jarnow does an excellent job of giving all of the many variations of The Weavers and the various members equal footing in the telling. Most importantly, I learned a heck of a lot about the music business in the fifties, the politics (which I pretty much already knew about), and the relationships between all the members.
But, to paraphrase maybe one of the most important themes of the book regarding the blacklist and the times--the people who took a dim view of The Weavers music and political views were just. . . scared Americans. . . I couldn't help but put that view into the present times.
The people on today's right in America are nothing more than scared Americans. . . scared their way of life has changed forever and their country is slipping slidin' away.
February 1, 2019
If the title doesn't make it clear, Wasn't That a Time: The Weavers, the Blacklist, and the Battle for the Soul of America is a very specialized biography, one concerned primarily with the sociocultural impact The Weavers made at a time when, politically, curiosity was dangerous and convictions were damning. Recording dates and interpersonal drama are here, but at the service of a story both larger and more precise.
As he demonstrated in Heads, however, Jesse Jarnow is an expansive cultural observer, keen to follow the myriad paths that lead both to and from his point of focus. Wasn't That a Time is, therefore, no dry academic survey but rather a compelling corrective, giving a jolt of subversive vitality to a group whose image and reputation has become somewhat avuncular and benign over the intervening years.
One would expect Pete Seeger -- outspoken and forthright as a performer, but otherwise something of a cipher -- to be the narrative's strongest driver, but it is instead Lee Hays who makes the biggest impression upon the reader. For all his accomplishments as a writer and performer, Hays comes across as a somewhat tragic figure, strung between his southern Methodist upbringing and his new life as a progressive Greenwich Village folkie, hobbled by his vices and bitter about perceived mistreatments, alternately an inspiration and a burden to his younger acolytes, and only intermittently able to fully realize his potential. (Bernie Krause additionally speculates that Hays was a closeted homosexual, a theory which would fit but which is neither supported nor pursued.)
Jarnow paints vivid portraits of Fred Hellerman and Ronnie Gilbert as well, but widely elides much of all four Weavers's lives outside of and after the dissolution of the group. This isn't a felt lack, however, as Jarnow's concern is explicitly the magic that the four Weavers could conjure as a unit -- the ethereal harmonies, the communal hootenannies, the expansion of the popular songbook, the mobilization of a generation, the whole that, by design, surpassed the sum of its parts.
As he demonstrated in Heads, however, Jesse Jarnow is an expansive cultural observer, keen to follow the myriad paths that lead both to and from his point of focus. Wasn't That a Time is, therefore, no dry academic survey but rather a compelling corrective, giving a jolt of subversive vitality to a group whose image and reputation has become somewhat avuncular and benign over the intervening years.
One would expect Pete Seeger -- outspoken and forthright as a performer, but otherwise something of a cipher -- to be the narrative's strongest driver, but it is instead Lee Hays who makes the biggest impression upon the reader. For all his accomplishments as a writer and performer, Hays comes across as a somewhat tragic figure, strung between his southern Methodist upbringing and his new life as a progressive Greenwich Village folkie, hobbled by his vices and bitter about perceived mistreatments, alternately an inspiration and a burden to his younger acolytes, and only intermittently able to fully realize his potential. (Bernie Krause additionally speculates that Hays was a closeted homosexual, a theory which would fit but which is neither supported nor pursued.)
Jarnow paints vivid portraits of Fred Hellerman and Ronnie Gilbert as well, but widely elides much of all four Weavers's lives outside of and after the dissolution of the group. This isn't a felt lack, however, as Jarnow's concern is explicitly the magic that the four Weavers could conjure as a unit -- the ethereal harmonies, the communal hootenannies, the expansion of the popular songbook, the mobilization of a generation, the whole that, by design, surpassed the sum of its parts.
December 8, 2018
The Weavers are all gone now - Pete Seeger, Lee Hayes, Fred Hellerman, Ronnie Gilbert, and all of the other musicians, writers, arrangers, promoters. Gone also are the tormentors from HUAC and other groups whose interference, accusations, and fake news about these and other artists made their creative and everyday lives a living hell.
Those of us who were true fans of The Weavers in all of their incarnations will learn the details behind their music catalog and other public pursuits, from Ronnie Gilbert's tours with Holly Near to Pete Seeger's Clearwater enterprises, all accomplished despite the persistent and pernicious censorship, and the internecine disagreements here uncovered. Wasn't that a time, indeed, and how relevant are those struggles today? The details in this book will be fascinating and gripping to many, and both instructive and inspiring to all.
Do yourself a favor: listen to "The Weavers at Carnegie Hall" as you read and go about your day.
Thanks to NetGalley for allowing me to review this book.
Those of us who were true fans of The Weavers in all of their incarnations will learn the details behind their music catalog and other public pursuits, from Ronnie Gilbert's tours with Holly Near to Pete Seeger's Clearwater enterprises, all accomplished despite the persistent and pernicious censorship, and the internecine disagreements here uncovered. Wasn't that a time, indeed, and how relevant are those struggles today? The details in this book will be fascinating and gripping to many, and both instructive and inspiring to all.
Do yourself a favor: listen to "The Weavers at Carnegie Hall" as you read and go about your day.
Thanks to NetGalley for allowing me to review this book.
November 25, 2019
The Weavers were one of the most influential folk groups in music history, both together and individually. Fred Hellman, Lee Hays, Ronnie Gilbert, and Pete Seeger wrote (or collected) and performed songs that are common sing-along refrains but were at the time considered revolutionary.
And dangerous.
All four members of the music group were the focus of the House Unamerican Activities Committee, due to what informants called their "subversive influence" on their fans.
This book was a fascinating look into the group's history, from the late 1940s up until the present day (the last member passed away in 2018). We see the politics of the Cold War and its attendant "red scare," as well as how the folk music trends grew and changed right along with the Weavers themselves.
Some of the book was a little dry, but it was nevertheless an exceptional read. The author included an extensive bibliography, as well as interview notes and photographs.
Highly recommended for those who enjoy folk music and wish to know more about its history.
And dangerous.
All four members of the music group were the focus of the House Unamerican Activities Committee, due to what informants called their "subversive influence" on their fans.
This book was a fascinating look into the group's history, from the late 1940s up until the present day (the last member passed away in 2018). We see the politics of the Cold War and its attendant "red scare," as well as how the folk music trends grew and changed right along with the Weavers themselves.
Some of the book was a little dry, but it was nevertheless an exceptional read. The author included an extensive bibliography, as well as interview notes and photographs.
Highly recommended for those who enjoy folk music and wish to know more about its history.
October 21, 2018
This book covers the history of the Weavers and their endurance to overcome odds and be a success. It addresses the backgrounds of the main players of which Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger are the best known. In addition, it covers the groups the over time evolved into the Weavers and now their music developed.
I recommend this book for anyone who is a fan of folk music and the role it played during the 1940's and 1950's.
I received a free Kindle copy of Wasn't That A Time by by Jesse Jarnow courtesy of Net Galley and Perseus Books/DeCapo Press, the publisher. It was with the understanding that I would post a review on Net Galley, Goodreads, Amazon and my fiction book review blog. I also posted it to my Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and Google Plus pages.
I requested this book as the description interested me and I am an avid reader of american history. This is the first book by the author that I have read.
I recommend this book for anyone who is a fan of folk music and the role it played during the 1940's and 1950's.
I received a free Kindle copy of Wasn't That A Time by by Jesse Jarnow courtesy of Net Galley and Perseus Books/DeCapo Press, the publisher. It was with the understanding that I would post a review on Net Galley, Goodreads, Amazon and my fiction book review blog. I also posted it to my Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn and Google Plus pages.
I requested this book as the description interested me and I am an avid reader of american history. This is the first book by the author that I have read.
October 15, 2018
I have always liked the music of the Weavers and watched a documentary about the group, so I was familiar with them before reading this book. However, Wasn’t That a Time not only talks about the history of the Weavers as a group and as individuals, but also about the time in which they performed—how, in the early 1950’s, they were harassed by the House Un-American Activities Committee, HUAC, and blacklisted. I had no idea that both Burl Ives (the voice of the friendly Snowman in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer) and Ronald Reagan both helped HUAC find people to blacklist as Communists. Extremely well researched without being pedantic or dry, this book is recommended to anyone interested in either music or history.
March 11, 2019
“I’d sing out danger, and I’d sing out a warning! I’d sing out love between all of our brothers, all over this land.” Confession: I reeeally love listening to The Weavers. They dominated American pop in the early 1950s, lending four voices, a guitar, and a banjo to common hymns and folk-tunes. “Wasn’t That a Time” chronicles the quartet’s tumultuous lifespan: The Weavers' progressive politics provoked Cold War suspicion, and internal tensions flared between their four strong personalities. The book itself is a little long, with some iffy prose, but it’s a solid biography of a singular musical group.
May 3, 2019
This is a really interesting book about a terrible and wonderful time and a group of musicians who defined and defied it. The Story of the Weavers is important, the blacklist, the chart topping hits, the spread of Folk music to a general audience, the political importance of the group, the amazing way that it all came together. WOW.
Jarnow has done a great job giving not just a quick bio of the group, but the times they came from, how they formed and all the troubles that they went through, but more than that, he shows the power of the music itself. Why the Weavers were great, and how so much that followed them came from what made them great.
Jarnow has done a great job giving not just a quick bio of the group, but the times they came from, how they formed and all the troubles that they went through, but more than that, he shows the power of the music itself. Why the Weavers were great, and how so much that followed them came from what made them great.
December 25, 2024
The book does a good job in covering the origins of this seminal group inspiring the folksong movement in the 50s and 60s from their start doing leftish folk hootenanies and union rallies through becoming more commercial and dealing with the blacklist and interpersonal issues, including breakout artist Pete Seeger and troubled bass Lee Hays. However, the writing is wincingly bad, with a lot of excruciating detail, purple prose, and attributions of thoughts and motivations of people and implications about various influences that would be impossible to source. Still worth reading if you're interested in the group or the music and politics of the period.
April 16, 2022
Fascinating history not only of the Weavers, but of the horrors of the blacklist and the terrible things Americans did to each other in the 1950s. Before I read this book, I had no idea of the story behind the music made by a group my father introduced me to as a child. Nor of how fraught their lives really were for most of their existence together. It's also a timely story because the battle for the soul of America continues. What conservatives called 'Reds' then they now sarcastically refer to as the 'woke' now.
July 26, 2019
Summer bingo-About politics
I grew up listening to The Weavers and Pete Seeger at home and singing these songs in school and at camp.
My parents had different political views than Pete Seeger, yet they taught me that the blacklist was wrong and that he had every right to speak or sing his message.
This could have been a great story, but the writing seemed flat and was not engaging. The third star is for the music that I still love so much.
I grew up listening to The Weavers and Pete Seeger at home and singing these songs in school and at camp.
My parents had different political views than Pete Seeger, yet they taught me that the blacklist was wrong and that he had every right to speak or sing his message.
This could have been a great story, but the writing seemed flat and was not engaging. The third star is for the music that I still love so much.
December 8, 2020
I have to admit, that I wasn't really a fan of The Weavers at all going into this (nothing against them, mind, just way outside the wheelhouse of what I usually listen to), but I'm a huge fan of Jesse Jarnow's writing and I'm sold on anything he does. As it turns out, like with many of his book long projects, this was about so much more than just the four folkies that made up The Weavers and was also a deep dive into how profoundly messed up the Communist witch hunt was back in the day.
July 26, 2021
One of the most remarkable things about this book is how it shows the parallels between to story of the 1950s folk revival and the situation in 2021. They too had QAnnon-style hysterias (according to the Chicago Tribune, folk music as somehow related to "sex orgies by red recruiters") and debates about cultural appropriation (particularly with White singers singing music from African American and African Caribbean traditions).
January 20, 2022
I didn't finish this book because I'm just not that invested in the Weavers. I like their music, I think they're great, but I don't need to know every detail of their career. Too much political detail and not enough about the music itself. It was well written, humourous in parts where it needed to be and serious in others, good anecdotes of Pete Seeger, I just lost interest.
Read
January 10, 2025DNF at 70 pgs. Second time I've tried and failed to get into this book, despite my interest in the subject and my love of Jesse Jarnow's Heads: A Biography of Psychedelic America. Blacklist me, I guess!
March 22, 2019
A very thorough account of the group who launched the folk era and outlasted McCarthyism.
September 12, 2019
This book was not enough about the blacklist. The history of the film movement was not particularly engaging and I skimmed the end.
June 16, 2020
A compelling, well-researched chronicle of the wildly idiosyncratic and deeply influential folk quartet, the politics that shaped them and caused them great grief, and their enduring musical legacy.
January 25, 2024
so deeply bizarrely written but also funny and informative.
October 22, 2018
I grew up on Pete Seeger and the Weavers as a child and had the opportunity to see Seeger perform once before he passed away. Definitely one of my favorite composer/singers.
The book was very interesting, though I think it might have gone into a little too much detail. However, it is a very well researched book and definitely recommend it to anyone who is interested in the founding of the modern American folk music field.
I received this book for free in exchange for a honest review.
The book was very interesting, though I think it might have gone into a little too much detail. However, it is a very well researched book and definitely recommend it to anyone who is interested in the founding of the modern American folk music field.
I received this book for free in exchange for a honest review.
Read
May 12, 2019Great writing style and lots of background on the folk scene and anti-communism hysteria
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