Alan Brinkley, Columbia University Provost and son of the late newscaster David Brinkley, does a fine job detailing the life of one of the most remarkable men of the 20th century: Henry Robinson Luce, cofounder of TimeLife, publisher of Time, Life, Fortune, and Sports Illustrated magazines. This is a much better bio than W.A. Swanberg’s Luce and far more detailed than David Halberstam’s Powers That Be, though Halberstam writes with more verve and better captures the intensity and contrary aspects of Harry Luce’s personality.
This son of missionaries to China and a scholarship student at Hotchkiss and Yale, always had the air of feeling less than, but used that insecurity and through sheer drive and intelligence, rose to be a leading opinion maker (decades before the advent of focus groups) and kibitzer to the world's decision makers. His was a voice that was heard. Time, in its day, was America's unofficial equivalent of Pravda while Life, Fortune, and Sports Illustrated made him fabulously rich. Harry Luce, everyone called him Harry, was no Hearst, who inherited a Croesus-like fortune and sank to demagoguey, nor Murdoch, though self made, is still a demagogue. With Brit Hadden, he invented the idea of the news magazine.
Luce was a true believer. He believed in Christianity, America, and capitalism. But because he was a true believer, though his enemies loathed him, he confounded those that many assumed would be his natural allies. He defended, lobbied, and protected the corrupt Chiang Kai-shek regime to his dying day because he believed in the idea of a free, independent (and Christian) China. Yet he was one of the earliest champions of America’s intervention in Europe pre –Pearl Harbor, the promotion of civil liberties to minorities, and opposed and vocally criticized Joe McCarthy’s red baiting tactics. He hired the best writers and editors that money could buy, almost invariably progressives and liberals with views diametrically opposed to his own (often he would lament why he could not find good and intelligent conservative writers), and alternately despaired over and battled with them (the best example being Teddy White).
He also seemed dissatisfied and unhappy. An absent father he was at best. His long second marriage to the glittering and vain Clare Booth Luce drifted from passion, recriminations, to détente. What began as a dazzling marriage sequed to bitterness, mutual infidelities, and finally acceptance. It became more of a merger than marriage with Clare always the junior partner. She had the star power; Luce had the determination, influence, and a lot of money. Clare may be a playwright and former editor of Vanity Fair, but she had no say in his magazines to her chagrin.
Unhappiness may have been but self pity was certainly not his lot. Bitter, abrupt, and hopelessly socially awkward, Harry channeled all his energies into his endless curiosity and ambition. There was no bemoaning or gnashing of teeth at his fate. Luce lacked that self-awareness that makes depressives. He just rolled up his sleeves and began changing America and the World to his and God’s plan. While not a nurturer, he was a crusader and a champion. He was quite a guy.