Humanities, history and Harper Lee

I read a novel twice for the first time recently. I followed that up by reading another novel for a second time. I don’t know why I have not done this before, but I recommend it. Rereading literature can increase appreciation, something about a more complete situation model. The more literary the work, the greater the effect, or so the story goes.1 I also recommend reading about the books you read. Who is the author? What motivated the book? How was it conceived? Context adds value.

I wanted to read about the enigmatic Harper Lee whose To Kill a Mockingbird is one of the most widely read American novels and among the most popular books to reread. I was inspired by Casey Cep’s Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee to reread To Kill a Mockingbird (it had been at least 25 years) which led to rereading Go Set a Watchman which led to reading Atticus Finch: The Biography by historian Joseph Crespino. The four books framed a short course in publishing, literary criticism, character development, history, sociology, and biography; a fascinating interplay of stories, real and imagined, and the fine lines that separate them.

The publication of Go Set a Watchman in 2015 created fresh opportunities to research the life of Harper Lee and review To Kill a Mockingbird and its characters, especially Atticus Finch; for some a disconcerting affair but also an enriching complexity that re-frames the field of view, removing from the shadows details in the lives of Lee and her characters that enrich rather than diminish her work. To Kill a Mockingbird is fluid and refined, simple even. But Go Set a Watchman is unencumbered, rough and raw, complicated by dissonance. Go Set a Watchman is the story that poured out of Lee first in the initial weeks of 1957 after a Christmas gift of time allowed Lee to quit her job and devote herself to writing. Go Set a Watchman provides insight into Lee’s life not available in To Kill a Mockingbird, exposing hidden kernels of her life’s truth that inform the lives of her characters, most undeniably that of Atticus Finch.

Lee’s writing life is fascinating and so was the process by which To Kill a Mockingbird emerged and grew to become one of America’s most purchased, most read, most celebrated novels, and how Atticus Finch became one of American literature’s most beloved characters. In The Furious Hours, Cep describes Lee’s interest in writing about the events surrounding a bizarre series of deaths in 1970s Alabama; an interest, Cep asserts, motivated by Lee’s experience helping Truman Capote research his true crime opus, In Cold Blood. While Lee never published this book, Cep tells this haunting story for her. But it is the second half of The Furious Hours that was most compelling; Lee’s childhood friendship and difficult adult relationship with Capote, her significant work on his most famous book, and her discomfort with the fame that came with the publication of To Kill a Mockingbird. In Atticus Finch: The Biography, Crespino delves more deeply into Lee’s relationship with her father, the inspiration for Atticus Finch, and the civil rights movement that provided the backdrop for the writing and publication of To Kill a Mockingbird.

While I was interested in the comparative literariness of Harper’s two novels and, upon rereading, came away with a greater appreciation for both books, it was less the construction of each novel and more the dynamic between them, played out in Lee’s real life story and covered so well by Cep and Crespino, that made reading them again so engaging. The Furious Hours: Murder, Fraud, and the Last Trial of Harper Lee and Atticus Finch: The Biography are well researched, well written, and well worth the time.

An essential tome for readers of American history... and other good reads

Henry Clay: The Essential American by David and Jeanne Heidler is an essential tome for readers of American history. Congressman. Senator. Secretary of State. Strategist. Negotiator. Presidential Candidate. The Great Compromiser, Henry Clay occupies a place in antebellum statesmanship that few others can claim. And he clashed with most who tried. The Heidlers' research is impeccable, supporting great storytelling and providing context for the study of a life few surpass in influencing, sometimes for better and sometimes not, the turbulent youth of America's republic.

There There: A Novel by Tommy Orange is a mournful, haunting call about being homeless at home. It’s about race and place, past and present. A précis of Native American experience in the prologue foreshadows a discomfiting read. And the stories of a dozen characters moving toward a single, fateful day delivers on that promise. The story is heavy but makes evident, through provocative, elegant language, what is not but should be in plain sight.

Pillars of the Republic: Common Schools and American Society, 1780-1860 by Carl E. Kaestle is less a chronology of public-school history than a study of the social context in which public school systems emerged in the early years of the republic. It is relevant for those interested in the debates about public schools today, not so much form or function but purpose, especially the common school focus to develop citizens that could maintain government of the people, by the people, for the people, something that has been lost in today’s standardization movement in which schools are asked to do everything but develop citizens for democracy.

Visceral. Emotional. Tragic. Hopeful. Real. Raw. Powerful. The Evil Hours: A Biography of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a must-read for anyone interested in learning about the mental and emotional strain occurring as a result of injury or severe psychological shock; what is known, what is not known, and what might be on the horizon. David J. Morris writes with energy, urgency, and a personal authority that pulls the reader into the pages, into the stories, and as close to the minds of those suffering from PTSD as may be possible in literary prose.

Electric October magnifies the mortals of the '47 Fall Classic

Joe DiMaggio was there. Jackie Robinson was there. Yogi Berra was there. Pee Wee Reese was there. And I felt like I was there after reading Kevin Cook’s Electric October, an account of the 1947 World Series as seen through the eyes of six men whose names haven’t traveled to the present quite as prominently as DiMaggio, Robinson, Berra, and Reese. DiMaggio was returning to the Fall Classic for the first time since serving in World War II, and Robinson was the first African-American to play in a World Series. But while Cook situates the ’47 Series in its appropriate social context, DiMaggio’s celebrity and Robinson’s courage are not featured. Rather it’s a story of triumph and tragedy for more marginal players whose baseball lives did not become immortal but who provided the moments that made the ’47 Series thrilling and dramatic.

A big hit, a near miss, and a great catch charge the current in Cook’s story. For Dodger third baseman Cookie Lavagetto, it was the biggest hit of his career… and the last. For every big hit, someone served it up. And for Yankees pitcher Bill Bevens, Lavagetto’s was the only hit he surrendered in his one Series start… and one of the last of his career. Finally, Dodger outfielder Al Gionfriddo recorded an out that was the bang at the end of his short run as a Major Leaguer. Also featured are Snuffy Stirnweiss (probably the Series MVP if it had been awarded then) and managers Bucky Harris and Burt Shotton (the last manager to wear street clothes in the dugout).

The subtext to the Series’ defining moments, eloquently captured by Cook’s narrative, is the tremendous surge in baseball popularity after World War II. Cook revives the excitement produced by a record 389,763 fans in Brooklyn and The Bronx that week as well as the sustained tension of each game that only baseball naturally affects.

There are some engaging anecdotes too, like how the Grapefruit League got its name, why players left their gloves on the field while they hit, and who started what would become the sabermetric revolution in baseball. Well researched and written, Electric October folds the time between today’s game and its forerunner, revealing that what made the game shine in 1947 still energizes baseball 70 years later. Nearly 19,000 players have worn a Major League Baseball uniform in the league’s 142-year history. Most are mortal, and like stars, they arrive on the scene, sparkle for a little while and then fade away. Electric October is a powerful telescope that lets us see some of the game’s mortals as they once were in their brightest moments.

Killers of the Flower Moon reminds, if not resolves

The devil, they say, is in the details. In the case of the Osage Nation, he was in the tribe's midst in the 1920's, unleashing a Reign of Terror in which dozens of tribal members were killed for their rights to the mineral money flowing from the tribe's underground reservation in the wild west prairie of Oklahoma. One man, one plan.

At least that's the official story.

In is new book, Killers of the Flower Moon, David Grann delves deeper into the details, revealing perhaps a larger scope to the terror that consumed the tribe after it began reaping the benefits of its oil-rich land.

Grann tells the story of the federal investigation into the murders of Osage head-right holders and the small degrees of separation among conspirators, opportunists, and politicians that set the stage for the insidious schemes devised to separate the Osage from their land and wealth. If not a microcosm of the larger Native American experience, it's certainly an exposé of the potential for human depravity. It also expatiates the cultural disorientation of Native Americans "straddling not only two centuries but two civilizations."

While most of the elements of compelling drama are present in Grann's narrative - ego, mystery, conflict, escalation, discovery - the sad truth is that resolution has eluded the tribe. Time and tombs have locked away the full truth. However, Grann's research relates remnants of the historical record to an abiding Osage consciousness that the Reign of Terror was not just the concerted scheme of one bad actor, and a few lost souls, but a systemic culture of killing that began earlier and ended later than justice avowed.

In Killers of the Flower Moon, Grann is attentive to his subject, emotionally, but also in the intellectual rigor of his research, his engagement with the culture, and his commitment to fully telling a story that can no longer be fully told.

A story to learn

It was a 1980’s political strategist working for George H.W. Bush that coined the phrase... perception is reality. While Lee Atwater gave this concept packaging in helping to elect the 41st President of the United States, politicians throughout history have utilized its premise to seek advantage. In Ron Chernow’s masterful biography, Washington: A Life, the first President’s instinctive application of this political maxim shines forth.

From his military strategy of diversion and improvisation during the Revolutionary War… or his resignations from power only to be drawn back to it by duty and ambition… to his habit of mounting a white steed to project strength and majesty before entering a town on official business… or his publicly regal lifestyle hiding struggles with cash flow and debt, Washington was a master of messaging. He also thought a great deal about posterity. Compelled by love of country, if not an eye toward reverence, he was meticulous in recording his life and managing his papers. And when it came time to exit the stage, he wanted to leave a lasting impression.

In his new book, Washington’s Farewell: The Founding Father’s Warning to Future Generations, John Avlon adds dimension to the impressions left by the first President through his farewell message and makes the case that Washington still has much to offer to America’s political discourse.

A highly accessible, fast-paced narrative, Washington’s Farewell was an excellent chaser to Chernow’s expansive examination of the President’s life. In unpacking Washington’s 6,000 word treatise on American citizenship, Avlon walks the President’s final message backwards from his time in office, then forward through the 19th and 20th centuries, showing how Washington’s experiences formed his perspectives on self-government and how the farewell has lived on long after its author.

Avlon’s readers also discover that the farewell message should not be disaggregated to support narrow propositions, as has often been the case since its publication. Its various components are not built upon mutually exclusive ideas but derive value through interdependence. It should be interpreted holistically to glean the guiding principles upon which the original work was based.

In calling for a reconsideration of Washington’s farewell, Avlon is arguing for a need to “reflect on first principles” rather than a return to political or social norms of the day. The first President’s final words on the American experiment, he suggests, can still serve as a broad model for discourse and direction. But you have to take its full measure to minimize the gap between perception and reality and apply its wisdom to the current challenges facing the republic.

Cardio for the mind

I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions but a finding published in Social Science & Medicine may change my thinking on this tradition for 2017. And it won’t be a new gym membership. Yale University researchers found that reading books prolongs life. This is good news. While I like running and exercise, I love to read!

The findings are less about the act of reading and more about type of reading. Book reading as opposed to more general reading facilitated a “survival advantage” the researchers attributed to enhanced cognitive engagement.

The researchers analyzed the reading habits of 3,635 people aged 50 and older and observed a 20 percent reduction in mortality for those who read books compared to those who did not. They believe the effect was created by the cognitive engagement that comes with the “slow, immersive” process of book reading. Cognitive engagement involves a commitment to exert the effort necessary to comprehend complex ideas. That process leads to a stronger mind, a not-so-trivial component of health and well-being. It also perhaps leads to enhanced emotional intelligence which may contribute to survival.

Importantly, the findings were true despite the participants' level of education, gender, health status, and baseline cognition. Also, the amount of time reading wasn’t a determining factor. Participants spent nearly twice the time reading periodicals as books. The researchers found that “any level of book reading gave a significantly stronger survival advantage than reading periodicals.”

So if you’re thinking about resolutions for the New Year, consider immersing yourself in a good book. You might even think of it as cardio for the mind!

Below are the top cognitively engaging books I read in 2016:

Bloodland: A Family Story of Oil, Greed and Murder on the Osage Reservation | by Dennis McAuliffe, Jr. 
Good books can make you think and re-think. McAuliffe succeeds at this with a sad, yet honest personal story that shows how legacy matters; that choices made long ago have long-term implications. Bloodland tells the story of the Osage Nation and the “Reign of Terror” perpetrated against tribal members in the 1920s. McAuliffe investigates the death of his Osage grandmother, learning and sharing more about himself in the process than I suspect he imagined when he started. It was the personal connection to my own life (the Osages in my family) and a gripping, suspenseful narrative that made this book so engaging. The book also provided some valuable historical and present day context for our visit to the Osage Nation in Oklahoma this fall.

The Lost City of Z: A Tale of Deadly Obsession in the Amazon | by David Grann
So I knew the Amazon was an exotic place. What I didn't know when I started reading The Lost City of Z was that David Grann would manage to bring the sights, sounds, smells, and textures of the Amazon into my living room. The Lost City of Z is the story of Percy Fawcett, one of the World’s great explorers whose dangerous and difficult work brought light to the great shadows of the Amazon. Fawcett’s engagement was his theory of an ancient and advanced civilization lost to the ages somewhere in this great South American jungle. Grann’s deep research and descriptive style combined to make this an accessible, thrilling read. Upcoming in 2017, I am looking forward to Grann’s coverage of the Osage Reign of Terror in his soon to be published Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI.

Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of Family and Culture in Crisis | by J.D. Vance
Reading can cause reflection and enhance awareness. Hillbilly Elegy does both for its readers. Vance shines the light on his own life and the issues of poverty, opportunity, and responsibility in Appalachian America. Vance relives a difficult childhood and engages the reader by generating more questions than answers, nudging others to examine the uncomfortable issues affecting a large percentage of Americans and consider solutions to some difficult problems.

The Greatest: My Own Story | by Richard Durham, Muhammad Ali
The news of Muhammad Ali’s passing motivated me to learn a little bit more about one of the most celebrated and controversial athletes of all time. I am not old enough to recall Ali’s work in the ring. My earliest memory of him is a 1980s commercial for bug spray. But for me, as a child of the '70s and '80s, Ali joined Babe Ruth, Jack Nicholas, and Wilt Chamberlain as sort of mythic figures in my immature sports mind. Reading Ali's 1975 memoir was interesting because it was the voice, 40 years later, of a myth from my childhood and a man for whose accomplishments and controversies I now had context. Co-authored by Richard Durham, The Greatest was a well-written, first-person narrative of Ali's life (or least what he wanted us to know), in and out of the ring, from his late childhood in Kentucky through his defeat of George Foreman to regain the heavyweight title in 1974. It definitely did what good biographies do; it humanized Ali. And while the myths around athletes enjoyed by my young-self have long been shattered by maturity, The Greatest was not just a window into Ali’s life but into a time in my own when athletes weren't really real.

Shoe Dog: A Memoir by the Creator of NIKE | by Phil Knight
My favorites list this year is filled with memoirs, and I think it’s the feeling of spending time with the author that makes this genre so engaging. Phil Knight was fun to hang out with in Shoe Dog. Knight takes the reader back to the early days of the company that eventually became NIKE. While the book is not so much about Knight’s personal life (there are references to family involvement but none that are very revealing), his personal feelings about his professional life shed light on the cultural development of NIKE and the persistence it takes to create something world renown. Knight’s experience is textbook engagement. He built is work around his heart and, ultimately, shared it with the world.

Natchez Burning | by Greg Iles
Natchez Burning is my favorite fiction read of the year. The first volume of a trilogy that addresses the racial history of the American south, Natchez Burning’s 800-page marathon seems more like a 400-page sprint. Iles strikes a balance between pace and character development that allows the reader time to generate emotional responses to the characters but keeps the yarn spinning. Books two and three of this trilogy are on my "To Read" list, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m writing about one or both of them at this time next year.

Bavishi, A., Slade, M., & Levy, B. (2016). A chapter a day: Association of book reading with longevity. Social Science & Medicine, (164), 44-48.