“How was it possible, I wondered, that all of this American land―in every direction―could be fastened together into a whole?”
From the embattled newsrooms of small town newspapers to the pornography film sets of the Los Angeles basin, from the check-out lanes of Dollar General to the holy sites of Mormonism, from the nation’s highest peaks to the razed remains of a cherished home, like a latter-day Woody Guthrie, Tom Zoellner takes to the highways and byways of a vast land in search of the soul of its people.
But what does it mean when a nation accustomed to moving begins to settle down, when political discord threatens unity, and when technology disrupts traditional ways of building communities? Is a shared soil enough to reinvigorate a national spirit? In these divided times, Zoellner’s journey across America―and into our often-contradictory histories―serves to remind us that despite our differences we all belong to the same land.
By turns nostalgic and probing, incisive and enraged, Zoellner’s reflections reveal a nation divided by faith, politics, and shifting economies, but―more importantly―one united by a shared sense of ownership in the common land.
Tom Zoellner is the author of several nonfiction books, including Island on Fire: The Revolt that Ended Slavery in the British Empire, and works as a professor at Chapman University and Dartmouth College. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Harper’s, The American Scholar, The Oxford American, Time, Foreign Policy, Men’s Health, Slate, Scientific American, Audubon, Sierra, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Times, The Texas Observer, Departures, The American Scholar, The Wall Street Journal and many other publications. Tom is a fifth-generation Arizonan and a former staff writer for The Arizona Republic and the San Francisco Chronicle. He is the recipient of fellowships and residencies from The Lannan Foundation, the Corporation of Yaddo, the Economic Hardship Reporting Project and the Mid-Atlantic Arts Foundation.
In his essay collection The National Road, Tom Zoellner takes readers to numerous places across America that he has visited in the course of several decades of travel. Although he acknowledges the common notion that America is a nation based on an idea rather than a shared ethnicity, he argues that America’s “nationhood is also heavily dependent on place. Here is our lowest common denominator: we all stand on the same land. If you want to know Americans, look at where they live first. Look at the land.”
Zoellner’s travels have impressed him with the immensity and variety of the land. He wonders how all of this land could be fastened together into a whole, and he asks, “what are the enduring features that make us Americans?” This is an especially urgent question, Zoellner suggests, in this era of accelerating change that includes, among other things, economic dislocation, political estrangement, and environmental threats. He characterizes the book as “a part of that ongoing question.”
For Zoellner, “geography is invariably personal.” So his essays are all, to one extent or another, personal reflections about America’s geography. They cover a diversity of spots all across the country, some of which he’s lived in, others of which he’s driven through, hiked in, or stopped in briefly. Some of the essays are predominantly personal memoirs, such as “Villages,” in which he describes living in New York City trying to write a novel, and “At the End There Will Be Strangers,” about the demolition of his grandmother’s former home in Arizona. Others have a more historical focus, such as “King Philip’s Shadow,” in which he uses a visit to a coastal wetland in Massachusetts to compare the effects of climate change to the changes wrought in the same area by King Philip’s War in the 1600s. The essays touch on a multitude of social issues, including immigration, pornography, racial prejudice, poverty, the decline of newspapers, and more.
To my surprise, there is only one short mention of the actual National Road (the first federally-funded highway in the United States) in The National Road. I had thought that might be a unifying thread for the essay collection. But as I read it, it’s really more of a metaphor for Zoellner’s own journeys across the nation.
Zoellner is a good writer, and the book is consistently well written. It is also informative, taking readers to places which most of us have never visited and very likely will never see. I enjoyed Zoellner’s lively descriptions, and I was impressed by quite a few of his insights into these American places.
"Dispatches from a changing America" is the second title of Tom Zoellner's absolutely brilliant and magnificent account. In 13 essays that take us anywhere within the United States (Zoellner tells us that he has visited 46 of the 48 capitols of the country). In "Mormon Historical Sites at Night", he describes his different trips throughout the US and nighly visits from the birthplace of Joseph Smith in Sharon, Vermont to Carthage, Illinois. Tom Zoellner is always on the move, behind the wheel: "The largest city in the US, where I have not been is Fayetteville, North Carolina." Fact check: Fayetteville has a population of 209,468 and ranks #108 among the lafrgest cities according to Wikipedia. In Spillville, Iowa, we learn that the famous Czech composer Antonin Dvorak has lived there and thrived among his fellow countrymen who mostly worked in the meat industry in the late 19th century. Zoeller describes the development of this town from Dvorak's days until now, talks to Czech Americans in the 3rd and 4th generation, drinks beer with working class Americans and talks to politicians running in the state that always has come first in primary elections. During his endless travels, he takes the pulse of a country that is rapidly changing. "Welcome to Dirtytown" takes a look at the changing porn industry in Los Angeles and the five, six mansions that the production companies are renting and rearranging. The grocery chain Dollar General establishes itself in lots of areas in many states where poor and impoverished people live and local sellers cannot compete with the giant's central negotiated prices. Since they often lack fresh vegetables and fruit, poor people who buy their groceries there to save money they need, gain more weight and eat unhealthy. Did you know that the city of St. Louis consists of 88 municipalities and that people can get several tickets from one of the 88 different police forces while driving a bunch of blocks on the same street? Giving tickets to tourists and other travelers is an important source of income for some municipalities that are as large as three blocks. Zoellner addresses climate change and the history of native Americans in "King Philip's Shadow". In "At the End There Will Be Strangers", he watches how his grandmother's old house in Arizona gets demolished after the old lady's death and after the house has been sold to a rich Canadian investor. And Zoellner gets philosophical about life and the ever changing American towns: "And this is America, too - a country of destruction and reinvention, where the scythe sits on the table next to the blueprint. We think we own the land, but the land survives while we and our sand structures do not."
Thanks to NetGalley and Counterpoint Press for an ARC of this book for a neutral review.
Tom Zoellner has probably been to your town, passed you on a highway, eaten at your favorite out of the way establishment, generally crossed your path in real time or in the past. At least that is how it seems as you read The National Road, his loosely connected collection of essays which he labels, "Dispatches from a Changing America". I can further attest to this link because my favorite essays were the ones I had first hand knowledge of, though not on the level of detailed observation Mr. Zoellner commands. The running chatter inside my head went like this as I read: "Why did I never notice that?" or "Well, that explains that!" or "Huh..."
Here is an example: The chapter, "Welcome to Dirty Town" (Not a prurient essay....that chapter would be "The Valley" about the making of pornography). There are corrupt small towns that prey on citizens without power, namely black persons or travelers passing through their state (who will pay up rather than travel back to challenge a ticket in court) as a shameless revenue source. Apparently this is a thing. I experienced it as a teen on a road trip with my Aunt. She was first pulled over and ticketed for throwing a tissue out her window. To my embarrassment, she complained bitterly that she was singled out as an out-of-towner. I became a believer when she was pulled over again a few miles down the road for not stopping at an empty crossroad. She HAD stopped! I was paying attention THAT time and remember the cops exact words. "A stop is the COMPLETE cessation of the wheels!!"
The "Whole Hoop of the World" essay is about Zoellner's quest to visit the high point of each and every state. Pretty cool. I have only photographed some of those mentioned but I had recently climbed Clingman's Dome, the highest point of Tennessee on the way home from a nephew's wedding. It is just as Zoelner describes it: as if "Albert Speer ever designed a landing pad for the Jetsons."
Late City Final describes his dismay at the loss of respect for small town newspapers. I have a sad connection to that story also, as the office of the Capital-Gazette in suburban Annapolis across from a shopping mall was on the same floor of my primary care and GYN doctors. On June 28, 2018 a gunman shot his way into the newsroom killing five.
So, although I've never met Tom Zoellner, our footprints have crossed, at least in print. I'm betting The National Road will speak to many others as well.
This collection of 13 mostly short essays takes as its subject the role of geography in American culture and history. "The American concept of geography has undergone a powerful shift," Zoellner writes. "Place is less important than it has ever been to those who can free themselves from it, yet more important to those who aren't able to leave it." Some of the essays go right at this issue of place, such as "The National Road", about the spread of Dollar General stores in America, and "Welcome to Dirtytown", about the patchwork of micro-municipalities that eat out the substance of Black residents of St. Louis. The most powerful essays are those in which Zoellner takes to the road, such as "The Whole Hoop of the World" and "Searchlight". This writing, dripping with nostalgia, made me eager to go out on a road trip when the pandemic is over, but otherwise had little to say outside of revealing the author's fetish for visiting points of interest late at night. While he may feel some heightened profundity in dropping in on Mormon historical sites, Mount Sunflower, and his late grandmother's house in the wee hours, exhaustive descriptions of these scenes took me no closer to understanding the "road of constant change" that he contends is our "blotchy and beautiful inheritance." The balance of the essays were either too short to provide any substance—his essay on the Covid-19 era is only five pages—or were little less facile than what might be found in a high-school history textbook or basic newspaper article.
Tom Zoellner's "The National Road, Dispatches from a Changing America" is a collection of essays that are presented as a travelogue, but are rather disparate studies on several American topics. The most worthy chapter is "Late City Final," relating the demise of many local weeklies and dailies, leading up to a remarkable explanation of why many citizens and our 45th President despise the best. By honest reporting and faultless attempts to keep America great, the Times and similar dailies became dull, dull, boring. --- The description of Spillville, Iowa, with its Czech background and its new immigrants, throws more light on our country's attitudes towards immigrants. --- "Welcome to Dirtytown" dissects the miniscule municipalities of St. Louis County as they use traffic tickets and courts to harass black drivers and finance their government. --- The chapter on porn filming in houses of the San Fernando Valley adds nothing. --- The author writes of Nevada as a state that is no gem. --- "The National Road" passes through Springfield, Ohio, and Professor Zoellner describes how Dollar General is ruinous to small places and their enterprises. --- What can be found upbeat in this volume? In "The Whole Hoop of the World" he climbs to the highest peak in many states. --- One clear joy of this book is that the author writes well.
Joan Didion aside, I have never been a big fan of essay collections, but this was an exception for me. So many great pieces that made me think or wove together things I'd never connected before. Don't read "Late City Final" if you've ever been a newspaperman (or woman); it made me cry. Other standouts for me include the chapter on Spillville, Iowa, and the chapter about Mormon landmarks. A fine read in small chunks or big ones.
I liked this book conceptually, but I had to look up so many terms and re-read so many paragraphs to get the meaning that I just couldn't focus on the topics. I like what he wrote about, I just think it could have been told with fewer ten-dollar words.
Although most of the book is not worth reading the author has some enlightening essays regarding newspapers and the current state of the media, along with the predatory law enforcement practices used in the the small municipalities surrounding St. Louis, MO to repress lower income individuals and fund their corrupt governments. Regarding the media the author points out how Richard Nixon vilified the media and Donald Trump expanded on this idea to claim "fake news" for legitimate stories and then broadcast lies as if they were the truth.
With this collection of essays based on his experiences of forty years spent driving U.S. American roads, Zoellner, politics editor of the Los Angeles Review of Books and educator at Chapman University and Dartmouth College, attempts to recreate a monumental task last undertaken by veteran journalist John Gunther in 1947. Gunther’s tome Inside USA, still in print, shone a spotlight on societal issues of the late 1940s and captured personal impressions gained by travelling, by road, through 48 different states.
Zoellner succeeds in his attempt. It is a testament to his investigative skill, his relentless perseverance and his accomplished writing style that he can demonstrates, in The National Road, the big fractures in the American dreams of limitless opportunities and prosperity. Ironically, US American citizens united by ever-improving physical and intellectual infrastructures, are more fragmented than ever before, Zoellner points out to his readership. Zoellner does not shy away from controversial issues: in the opening essay, the Mormon beliefs and customs receive acerbic treatment, for example, as later on do the questionable practices of small-town officials pursuing the economically vulnerable for alleged road traffic offences. Perhaps to be expected in a tome that covers such a vast expanse of miles and moral grounds, there are some incongruous passages in this essay collection. The passages about Zoellner’s attempts to scale the highest peak in each of the contiguous 48 states, his recollections of driving until the very edge of tiredness, and his steadfast refusal to sleep in motels, for example, can appear boastful and detract from his incisive explorations. Zoellner is brave enough to challenge accepted facts and to dismantle historic emblems, writing incisively about issues as diverse as the 17th century King Philip War, the unseen casino rituals, or the insipid rise of dollar stores in declining neighbourhoods. His writing style is sublime, with a spectrum that ranges from sardonic humour and brutal honesty to acute, incisive journalism. Zoellner is equally capable of elegiac nostalgia and deeply personal discoveries, as shown in passages when he ponders his hard-worn journalistic career, laments the death of metropolitan newsroom reporting, recalls his initially failed literary ambitions as a struggling writer in New York, or his witnessing of the demolition of his grandmother’s house in Phoenix.
This incisive, deeply moving and stylishly written book takes a deserved place next to two other compelling road narratives that analyse the contemporary U.S. American consciousness: Deep South (2016), which details Paul Theroux’ back road journeys through Alabama, Mississippi, South Carolina and Georgia; and Home in America: On Loss and Retrieval (2016), which follows Thomas Dumm’s long drive from western Massachusetts to western Pennsylvania.
I am grateful to NetGalley and to the publishers, Counterpoint Press, for an ARC in exchange for my honest and unbiased review.
The National Road by Tom Zoellner is a travelogue of sorts, with each chapter occurring in no particular order. The author explores sites that are of historical significance, climbs the highest peaks in each state, and visits a pornographic film set in California. He takes a virtual tour of major newspapers, past and present; and he tries to get an actual glimpse of Area 51. The last chapter, focusing on a final visit to his grandmother's home, is especially personal. This is, refreshingly, not a political book except as it relates to historical events. This is about the land itself and the stories it holds. This is the author attempting to understand what holds the disparate parts of America together. And it's a fascinating perspective.
The road is long and winding in this collection of essays, from Mormonism to mansions used as sets for pornographic movies, from the demise of many print newspapers to the inescapable round robin of tickets and court appearances many St. Louis area residents are susceptible to, simply because they are driving while poor. I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and got out of it what I always hope to get out of an observational non-fiction book: history and first-person experiences. Thanks to Netgalley and Counterpoint Press for allowing me to read this book in exchange for my opinions and review.
This book of essays from regional places in the U.S. reminded me a bit of William Least Heat Moon's Blue Highways with a bit of Charles Kuralt thrown in. There was no particular travel itinerary, just reports of somewhat odd and unknown areas and attitudes. My favorite essays were the ones where I knew the region such as the desert between Las Vegas and Idaho, and essays on porn mansions and Dollar Store locations were interesting.
The American dream ends badly, heroically the struggle unremembered by time generations ghost post-oxygenated air now green card immigrants flee America back across borders nearest edge of sun crucified desert there are no mothers and fathers we are all tattooed nakedness Americans hate, are well hated in every radicalized corner of this country.
Chris Roberts, Patron Saint of Imaginary Countries
I was disappointed in this book, which was surprising because i had heard the author interviewed about the book, and expected to like it. Teh book started with a series of travelogues (which i expected and liked a lot), but devolved into a mash up of essays on unrelated topics. The liner notes sell the book as observations about disappearing America, but it seemed like just a collection of essays the author had previously written, with no coherent theme, or even conclusion.
Tom Zoellner takes to the highways and byways of a vast land in search of the soul of its people. By turns nostalgic and probing, incisive and enraged, his reflections reveal a nation divided by faith, politics, and shifting economies, but–more importantly–one united by a shared sense of ownership in the common land.
From ephemera to statistical facts of the moment Zoellner has written a unique travel book that doubles as memoir. The places he visits are grouped into chapters and the topics he covers are diverse and important. Love this book!
This was such an interesting read, as it encompasses decades spent on the road by the author. I love how he described the places he has been. This was a really interesting read.
This book is a series of essays on our "imperfect union" and our imperfect selves. But the fact that we are still free to examine our country and selves is; perfect.
A really neat set of essays about how we all decide to connect with the Earth, whether that be as a nomad or someone who settles in one place. Common theme that I took away/liked the most was the silly idea of taking ownership of Earth because of a certain action (buying a house or summiting a mountain). Lots of cool analysis of staples in our country (dollar stores and local newspapers) that you might never think twice about. And then sections on ideas always top of mind, like corrupt government practices.
There was a lot of talk of America but not in a patriotic way at all, which I liked.
I’d love to read a similar book by a women or person of color so if anyone out there knows of one, please let me know!!!
“Ours is a country where memory and fresh experience twist together”
The title of this series of essays is a little misleading. As someone who lives within a long Par 4 of the Old National Road and who drives it every day, I was expecting a contemporary take on one of the country’s most unsung historical highways.
This is not that.
It is, however, a clear-eyed journalist’s take on the state of the country as seen through the travels of a nomadic ex-newspaperman. Tom Zoellner, who worked in newsrooms all over the country for 10 years, looks at America in 2020 with a sense of “whereness,” a quality that defines us based on where we live or where we’re from.
As such, Zoellner, who claims to have crisscrossed the country 30 times over the past 20 years, sets up a series of waypoints on the American condition. Themes include racism and immigration, as told through visits to bars and a town in Iowa started by Czech immigrants; the blight of certain commercial development, examined — perhaps a little unfairly — through the prism of ubiquitous Dollar General outlets in lower-income communities; and urban and suburban renewal, described poignantly in the book’s final chapter.
The allegories, weighed down in places by language I found a little too florid, could be a little hard to follow, perhaps because each chapter was a fresh jumping-off point. That’s a hazard with essay collections. Read perhaps as a series of only loosely related long-form feature stories, I do give the author much credit for incisive observations and a great sense of story-telling.
The book is a collection of fourteen essays, meant to convey a sense of place in this uncertain time.The essays are based on Zoellner's extensive travels in the continental United States. The topics covered include: climbing to the highest point in every state;the decline of local newspapers; the rise of the Dollar General chain, and corrupt local governments preying on citizens.It's a lively and provocative read,
I love books like this and am grateful for folks like Tom Zoellner, who go out and travel and write about what they encounter on the road. I travel a bit, but not often and over the decades have found places I love transformed, never for the better, over time. If cities aren't all reinventing themselves through gentrification to a dull sameness, they are becoming rust belt-ish in their poverty. I have never seen the polarization of this country to the extant that I've seen it this year, and it's scary and sad. It barely feels like we are one nation with so much division.Don;t even get me started on the "dollar stores" everywhere I look these days. Right up there with the "payday lenders." Don't know what will happen in the future, but I did enjoy reading this series of snapshots of our country. It was interesting and insightful. Thank you Mr. Zoellner. Written book. I received a Kindle arc from Netgalley in exchange for a fair review.
Fascinating stories, luminous writing. These essays are tied together by the contradiction that is America - grandiosity and pettiness, magnificence and guilt, inspiration and heartbreak. It is tempting to take sides in this paradox, to embrace one perspective and see the other as misguided at best and treacherous at worst. But a nation, especially one like ours, is not a right or wrong proposition. Its contradictions must be part of what we love about America.
I especially loved “Welcome to Dirtytown” and “At the End There Will Be Strangers” (which I defy you to read dry-eyed.).
A loose connection of essays, mostly about western landscapes. He is a good writer and I enjoyed a number of them. I didn’t really see any “dispatches from a changing America”, as the subtitle implies, and I thought a few essays were weak and wandering. That said, 3 or 4 of them were very good, such as his essay about climbing every state’s highest “peak.” In fairness, it was a library book and I was under pressure to read quickly.
Zoellner took me across the length and breadth of the nation with lovely prose, and the writing made me feel that I was once again visiting all the places I'd been before. He really captures the vastness of America as you feel it when you're driving across the country. But some essays got a little bogged down in the over-long recollection of facts.
I was expecting a travel book, but most of these essays describe individual regions in the U.S. or topics like Mormon history or the demise of journalism. That said, I was not disappointed. Zoellner's writing and point of view are interesting, and I learned something.
I enjoyed the book but I thought it was going to be more about traveling around the nation. Parts of it I could relate to, because I have been to some of the place he talked about.
I really liked this collection of essays. A few of them weren’t as strong in my opinion, but Zoellner’s thoughtful writing about Americana is well worth reading.