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BIBLIOFILE
Grover
Cleveland: A Study in Character
by Alyn Brodsky
(St. Martin's Press, 496 pages, $35)
Published a
few weeks before the debacle that was Election 2000, Alyn Brodsky's
Grover Cleveland is one of those inconspicuous works of history--ignored
by critics, overlooked by the book-buying public--that will quietly
expire on the bargain shelf a few months from now. That's a shame,
because this is the best book no one is reading about the American
presidency. Brodsky's biography of the only chief executive to serve
two nonconsecutive terms is both a cry in the wilderness and a fable
for our times.
Like Al Gore
in 2000, Cleveland won the popular vote for re-election in 1888
but lost the Electoral College to Benjamin Harrison, the grandson
of a former president. Instead of despairing for his political future,
Cleveland welcomed the break and returned to defeat Harrison four
years later. Brodsky is up-front about his admiration for his subject:
Cleveland, he argues, was the best president between Lincoln and
Theodore Roosevelt (and the only Democrat elected to the White House
between James Buchanan and Woodrow Wilson). He is equally frank
in his withering disdain for later presidents: "To compare Grover
Cleveland with our four most deplorable post-Harding Presidents--Nixon,
Reagan, Bush, and Clinton--is to contrast a paradigm of virtue with
the quintessence of duplicity." Brodsky details how Cleveland acted
in the public interest no matter how politically unpopular, whereas
modern presidents have not only betrayed the public's trust but
have done so knowingly and willingly.
Brodsky's relentlessly
witty, disparaging comparisons of Cleveland's integrity with most
other presidents' perfidy might seem obsessive if they weren't so
hilarious--and true. Matt Buckingham
A Trip
to the Stars
by Nicholas Christopher
(Scribner, 500 pages, $14)
Nicholas
Christopher
reads at Twenty-third Avenue Books, 1015
NW 23rd Ave., 224-6203. 7:30 pm Wednesday, March 14. Free.
Leaving the
Manhattan planetarium, 10-year-old and thrice-orphaned Loren takes
the hand of a person he thinks is Alma, the 21-year-old aunt currently
caring for him. It isn't until too late that Loren realizes he's
holding the hand of a stranger, and the mistake is no accident:
He's forced into a waiting car and whisked away.
A Trip to
the Stars is the story of the 15 years that pass before Loren
and Alma meet again, told in chapters that alternate between their
disparate experiences. Loren definitely gets the better deal. He
discovers that his real name is Enzo, and he's been kidnapped by
an indulgent uncle who owns a former hotel outside Las Vegas packed
with eccentric geniuses and art. As Enzo, he studies Diogenes and
loses his virginity to an aspiring vampire. Meanwhile, Alma is so
riddled with guilt that she anagrammatically scrambles her name
to "Mala" to emphasize her "bad"-ness. She endures a tour of Vietnam
and a vicious car accident.
Christopher
spreads this fantastical story across a 500-page canvas, cramming
it with such elements as ESP-inducing spider bites, secret NASA
missions to the moon's dark side, searches for Atlantis, shape-shifting
shamans, and more. Enzo and Mala, unfortunately, are the least interesting
characters in their own stories, and the second half of the novel
devolves into trite melodrama more the stuff of kitchen-sink realism
than magical realism. By the time Loren/Enzo and Alma/Mala are reunited,
their once-promising stories have grown stale, leaving the reader
feeling the same as on any overlong trip: bored, tired and eager
to return to reality. Dan DeWeese
John Henry Days
by Colson Whitehead
(Doubleday, 400 pages, $24.95)
Sophomore slump?
Not a bit of it. In Colson Whitehead's follow-up to his critically
acclaimed debut novel, The Intuitionist, he provides more
of the complex storylines and unique, but very genuine, characters
that got him mad props the first time around. But with John Henry
Days, Whitehead leavens his inventive narrative with a more
accessible sense of humor along with an intricate succession of
stories within stories, unfolding with the intimacy of memory.
The main character
of John Henry Days is the hapless J. Sutter, a "junketeer"
journalist who writes those short, bloodless "news" pieces you see
in travel magazines, whose job it is to show up at publicity events
for the freebies and booze. For his latest assignment, Sutter travels
to a small town in West Virginia to cover the First Annual John
Henry Days festival.
Radiating outward,
and backward in time, Whitehead traces the evolution of the John
Henry ballad from the first man to ever put the legend to music
to the hacks of Tin Pan Alley, desperate for a successful song.
Then there's John Henry himself, facing down an impossible mountain
with new technology breathing down his neck, ready to render him
obsolete. Simultaneously, Sutter, too, soon finds himself engaged
in a battle that will require Henry-like sacrifice.
John Henry
Days thoroughly explores the themes of obsession, ambition,
inevitability, and the pervasiveness of racism, with a dazzling
command of language and imagery. Colson Whitehead is a novelist
of tremendous powers of observation and wit. In terms of new fiction,
this is as good as it gets. Jemiah Jefferson
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