Me and Billy the Kid
With the Fair Deal program, desegregation of the armed forces, and Communist persecution on his resume, Harry S. Truman didn’t really need to end his presidency with a bang, but end it with a bang he did. Three days before Dwight D. Eisenhower defeated Adlai Stevenson to become the next Commander in Chief, the United States detonated the first hydrogen bomb above the Marshall Islands, early in the morning of November 1, 1952.
“Nine months later the Soviets surprised the Western powers by exploding a thermonuclear device of their own. The race to obliterate life was on — and how. Now we truly were become Death, the shatterer of worlds. So it is perhaps not surprising that as this happened I sat in Des Moines, Iowa, quietly shitting myself. I had little choice. I was ten months old.” –Bill Bryson
And so goes Bill Bryson’s unrivaled knack for delivering hard facts with an uncompromising wit and a flair for the greatly exaggerated in his new book The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid. In what is part childhood memoir, part history of 1950s America, Bryson’s hilarious aptitude for sprinkling historic data with delightful embellishments results in a larger-than-life nostalgic journey through an America that is at once frightening and enchanting, foreign and familiar, and is no more.
The Thunderbolt Kid is the superhero alter-ego of the childhood Bryson, who grew up in Des Moines, IA. Bryson navigates Kid World set against the featureless landscape of the Midwest with tales of a home life led by a father partial to being naked from the waist down, of misguided family vacations that ended him up in Harlem, and high school beer heists of epic proportions.
Most impressive is his attention to detail of American life in a bygone era: space exploration, proliferation of the automobile, the day Playboy began showing pubic hair, UFOs, the arrival of television in America’s homes, the meatloaf-based cuisine of Midwestern church socials, Growing up with Dick and Jane books, Maidenform bras, Slinkys, The Bay of Pigs, grape-flavored Nehi soda, George & Gracie. With great enthusiasm, he fondly recalls a time when a new kitchen appliance was the object of a large neighborhood audience for weeks after its purchase.
In all of his memoirs, Bryson is a master manipulator of wistfulness and shrewd realism. The American life he remembers in The Thunderbolt Kid was simpler, and the universe was a less explored place than today. Therefore, people had bigger imaginations, as virtually anything was possible: life on Mars, surviving a nuclear attack in a catalog-ordered air-raid shelter with non-perishable food, self-driving cars, anything! But concurrently, he expertly weaves in the less comforting aspects of the era: racial brutality, the nuclear arms race, polio, McCarthyism, the banana republics of the United Fruits Company.
No sooner has Bryson convinced you that cartoons, along with most things, were better in the 1950s, than he reminds you of Walt Disney’s unsupported testimony that the cartoonist’s guild was full of Communists. Striking a balance between hard social truths, warmhearted memories and fantastic imagination, he evokes a world where happiness was easier, often taking the form of something as simple as an electronic ice crusher, but assures us that some things — like spray-on mayonnaise — are better left in the past.
–Julia Clarke
I Said: No, No, No!
A stint in rehab is the new celebrity accessory! Simply throw one Chihuahua or lap dog of your choice into a custom-made D&G bag, rack up a drunk-driving charge or three, and you will have mastered this stylish new look.
A late-night stop by the L.A.P.D. and your D.U.I. glamor shot splashed all over the tabloids the following day used to be the final prerequisite for a quick, reputation-salvaging stay at Eric Clapton’s Crossroads treatment center in Antigua, but these days the rich and famous are checking into rehab like it’s the Chateau Marmont. Lindsey Lohan did it three times last year — the jury’s still out on whether the third time was a charm — while Jonathan Rhys Myers announced publicly he was checking into rehab even though none of us was aware he had substance abuse problems. Or indeed knew who he was.
In return for their suffering, we are inundated with photographs of tanned, serene-looking celebs, usually in an alpine setting, strolling to the gym for a quick fat-busting round of pilates. Colonics to soothe the soul! Is this rehab or a nice visit to a health spa for a quick karmic touch-up?
It’s easy to lose sight of how dreadful addiction is. Author Augusten Burroughs was suffering from similar delusions when he checked into a Minnesota treatment center for multiple addictions, including near-fatal alcoholism, which he recounts in the 2003 memoir Dry. And who could blame him? They all have such pleasant-sounding names: The Cirque Lodge in Utah conjures up the mystique of a Montreal-based performance troupe in a cool, shady forest setting, and Promises Rehab Center in Malibu…it’s just so full of, well, promise!
But Burroughs learned the truth the hard way. The Northampton native was in his twenties and working in advertising in New York City when his addictions came to a near lethal conclusion. He offers intimate, harrowing detail about his life as a two-bottles-of-Dewar’s-a-day (and then some) alcoholic. Yes, you will cringe at his stories of irresponsible sexual conduct, and balk at his most base denial of grief at his best friend’s death. Your liver will ache as you read the accounts of slurping seven martinis just to get a buzz, before retiring home with a couple of bottles of Scotch for quiet night in. But in typical self-deprecating Burroughs style, you can’t help but laugh when he recounts having to negotiate a debilitating hangover while facing a bewildered client as he guides him around an art gallery, discussing a Faberge ad campaign. If you’ve tried hiding from the boss after a couple too many at Thursday night happy hour, imagine trying to disguise the fumes from ingesting two liters of grain alcohol.
After years of such derelict behavior without any seeming retribution, Burroughs’ coworkers display amazing mercy by conducting an intervention instead of having him escorted from the premises. Within a week, Burroughs finds himself in the North Star State, the cold horror dawning of what rehab truly is: paper gowns lacking in modesty, inedible hospital gruel, public humiliation thinly veiled as healing rituals involving teddy bears. Despite the difficulties, it works, for a time, and after a few weeks a sober, slightly more resolved Burroughs emerges, and returns to New York where he must face his dirtiest secret: his apartment. Let’s just say it involves some three thousand empty liquor bottles. Think about how many times you’ve ashamedly snuck out to dump your empty booze bottles in the recycling before dawn so your neighbors won’t be awake to catch you disposing of the evidence from the night before. Then imagine your embarrassment was such that you hadn’t actually disposed of any of those bottles for several years. Oh, and multiply the amount you drink by several thousand. Not pretty.
Burroughs’ account of addiction and rehab is hopefully not much closer to your reality than posed photographs of celebs in rehab you’ll see in People magazine, but viewing it through Burroughs’ ever-wry lens is oddly endearing, and more often than not it will make you laugh. It was will also make you feel better about that time you went to the office Christmas party without eating, chased your vodka with red wine and hit on your boss before throwing up on his shoes.
–Julia Clarke
On Chesil Beach
On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan
Though McEwan calls this work a novel, not a short story, it is a brief work, with a plot that’s both focused and sublime. McEwan has long been and remains one of the most descriptive writers in the language and can take simple events and draw them in such perfect detail that they do more than ring true: instead, we feel like they might be our own. This tale deals with a man and woman who meet in the uptight England of the early ’60s (before the Beatles, Carnaby Street and sexual revolution had transformed the culture into something we recognize today). Their wooing is stilted and uncomfortable and most of the action takes place on their climactic wedding night. It is both hilarious and tragic. I loved it.
–Sean Coakley
Benjamin Franklin: An American Life
Benjamin Franklin: An American Life by Walter Isaacson
This is a terrific biography of one of the first true American Renaissance men. Franklin was a prolific writer, a successful printer, a renowned scientist, an effective satirist and humorist, and his work in foreign service before we actually had a Foreign Service helped pave the way for this new nation’s success.
If most of what you know about Franklin comes from tepidly-written schoolbooks, you probably don’t have a grasp on the scope of his accomplishments. This biography brings him to life. He was so far ahead of his time that, if he were to be dropped by a time machine into New York City this weekend, I’m confident he’d be comfortable within an hour. His relaxed views on religion (he believed in a benevolent God who rewarded good deeds and hard work as opposed to the more prevalent Puritan view that featured holy omnipotence and its predetermined menu of pain and suffering) seems remarkably brave given the fire and brimstone of his time. He was a pragmatist, constantly organizing and designing: clubs, associations, libraries, lightening rods, fireplaces, etc. all to the betterment of a growing middle class. Isaacson tells this story chronologically, complete with all Franklin’s strengths and shortcomings. Like so many men who achieve greatness, he was sadly estranged from his son, William, who supported the British during the revolution. His doting wife, Deborah, remained behind in Philadelphia while her husband was overseas, initially to win French favor in helping to defeat the British in the War of Independence and remaining afterward to negotiate the peace (with the much younger John Adams and Thomas Jefferson); he was away for 16 of the final 17 years of her life.
Isaacson points out in closing that Franklin’s reputation has been reevaluated by every generation to suit their own needs and biases. His stock has again risen in this time of political and religious unrest and global climate change. His story brings into relief our desperation as we search for leaders who have but a portion of his worldliness, intelligence and talent. Anyone who loves American history will enjoy reading about one of our country’s greatest men.
–Sean Coakley
The One Percent Doctrine: Deep Inside America’s Pursuit of Its Enemies Since 9/11
The One Percent Doctrine: Deep Inside America’s Pursuit of Its Enemies Since 9/11 by Ron Suskind
This is the scariest political thriller I’ve read in years — scary because it recounts how the Bush administration created their plan to fight the so-called “War on Terror”. Based on Dick Cheney’s conviction that we take out anyone suspected of potential aggression even if there’s but a one percent chance that what we suspect is true, we end up with two wars in the Middle East in an effort to root out jihadists. This book reads like a novel but sets in like a plague. It follows a cast of characters who have all become household names through day-to-day meetings, as well as the constant battle between the Departments of State and Defense and the various intelligence agencies leading up to the wars. Behind it all is the belligerent, pugnacious and highly secretive Vice President, with a boss in so far over his head that you find yourself gripping the book cover harder and harder and hoping you’ll wake up.
–Sean Coakley
The Road
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
This is a remarkable work of fiction. It’s hard to tell you much since there isn’t a great deal of plot and what there is I don’t want to give away. Let’s just say that the setting is post-apocalyptic and the book explores a relationship between a father and son. Despite the darkest scenario imaginable, the book is filled with hopeful light and McCarthy’s prose has never been sharper. His stark, simple sentences recall Hemingway at his best and are the work of an author at the top of his craft.
–Sean Coakley
Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln
Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin
This book traces the story of our first truly self-made President whose storytelling gifts and debating skills made him a natural politician. He won the nomination in 1860 over three men who were better known and generally thought to be far more qualified. Lincoln made an incredibly brave choice of picking those staunch political rivals to populate his cabinet and the relationship each had to the president and each other is studied here.
It has been said that wartime leadership is a necessary component of a great Presidency. No one had a harder task than to govern during the fractious war between the states. Lincoln was far from perfect, as evidenced by his first several choices of men to lead the Union Army. It wasn’t until he appointed Grant that he found someone with as much determination as himself to finish the job of defeating the Confederate forces. Nevertheless, he stands as our greatest President because he didn’t have a vindictive bone in his body and knew how to bring out the best in people around him. This book should be mandatory reading to anyone aspiring to the Presidency — or maybe just anyone dreaming of a better one.
–Sean Coakley
Shakey
Shakey by Jimmy McDonough
This is flat-out the best biography of a rock hero I’ve read to date. I could criticize McDonough for going on endlessly with details of Young’s life that seem, at times, exhaustively pedestrian and unnecessary. But as the story of this oddly incandescent man from Winnipeg develops, I realized that the book succeeds in getting behind the inspiration. By learning about Young’s strange and unpredictable zigzags, we understand why he does what he does and how that weirdness fuels his creativity. McDonough did what few biographers of artists have managed to do: he got into his subject’s head and taught us where the songs come from.
–Sean Coakley
The Best Book I’ve Read This Year: The Time Traveler’s Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
Audrey Niffenegger’s debut novel is a story of a man who slips in and out of linear time yet manages against heavy odds to have a spectacularly rich relationship with an artist willing to take the risk. The characters are drawn to perfection and what sounds like sci-fi is anything but. This promising young author’s powers of observation are so acute that I found myself dragging my feet (reading slower!) in order not to miss them for want of finding out what came next. You’ll wonder, at first, about this metaphor of time travel. That she manages to pull it off is testament to a great new talent.
I was very sorry when it ended but totally thrilled by the experience.
–Sean Coakley
