Novels and short stories, blogs and essays, academic lectures and casual conversations — they’re all somehow rooted in, or unabashedly celebrating, one of the great loves of my life.
Courtesy of David D. Robbins Jr.
Earlier today, the Washington Examiner posted a story taking a look at Maryland’s Civil War scholars and how they became the academics they are today. One of them, Naval Academy professor Mary DeCredico, was a little girl when she first saw photos of Robert E. Lee. He looked so sad, DeCredico said. She felt sorry for him. She wanted to know what happened to him. Another historian, Craig Symonds, said reading about the war in his teens inspired him. The president of the Civil War Trust, O. James Lighthizer, said he was hooked when he read “The Killer Angels,” Michael Shaara’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about the Battle of Gettysburg.
The Civil War has enthralled me for most of my adult life. My childhood had basked in my family’s white hot passion for its own Spanish imperial history, in Peru and throughout the Caribbean, and so most of my knowledge of U.S. history came from my school textbooks. I was primarily interested in the history of World War II. The battles, the commanders and the consequences invariably led me forward into the Cold War, the Korean War, the civil rights movements, and Vietnam. Attempts to understand the root causes of the Second World War led me backward to the first World War. Anything before Wilson’s Fourteen Points and the doomed RMS Lusitania were merely answers to the questions on next Wednesday’s third-period quiz. My interests grew like green vines, toward film school, toward astronomy and psychology, toward the tantalizing prospects of a military career and a college teaching career … vines that maybe someday, I secretly hoped, would even lead me into a career as a great writer and intellectual, whatever that was. It sounded good.
So, as I eased into college, torn between becoming an engineer who imagined and built cities on the moon and becoming the next Oliver Stone or Francis Coppola, I sensed that the kind of films I wanted to make — political and historical pieces no one would ever see — needed a solid grounding in genuine U.S. history. A casual knowledge of brutal military tactics, intransigent Wilsonian idealism and genocidal Spanish conquests would never be enough. I realized that my restless mind wanted to know more about an incredible era in America, a time that saw it fight its bloodiest battles, produce some of its greatest statesmen, and ravage regions only a few hundreds of miles from where I stood. At that time in my life, I walked past a doorway I had never considered before, turned around, walked back to the threshold, and crossed it, entering a new era.
“Gettysburg” is an amazing film. Few recent films are as ambitious in scope, as beautifully filmed and scored, with as outstanding acting and stunning battle sequences. So few films are able to bring so many of these elements of greatness together, but “Gettysburg,” certainly at times a ridiculously flawed film, succeeds with an elegant force that never fails to deeply touch me emotionally and intellectually. I’ve seen that film at least one hundred times, and I could watch it another thousand times and still find something new and inspirational.
This film came along at the perfect time in my life, just as I was stepping through that doorway. I didn’t understand the obsession with the 1863 Pennsylvania battle, the adoration of Robert E. Lee, the brutal scale of the engagements, the significance of Little Round Top, or why Grant wasn’t involved in the battle. I couldn’t chart an intellectual course through the period, from Fort Sumter to Appomattox. I didn’t understand why people hated Grant so much, why no one ever spoke about Jefferson Davis, or even what happened in Texas during the Civil War. I think I had to forcibly accept the fact that I was absolutely ignorant of the Civil War in general. As embarrassed as I felt about that, I knew that if I was committed to teaching myself the essentials — at least up to a point where I could speak about it intelligently — then ignorance was OK for the moment. I was willing to improve and grow, and that‘s all that mattered. That would be my salvation. I would parachute onto that spot on the Civil War timeline, and, as I had done with the history of the two great world wars, I would work my way backward and work my way forward.
It was at that time that I learned that a massive new Civil War film was about to premiere in the summer of 1993, about 130 years after the Battle of Gettysburg. Relaxing one day in my college library, I flipped open a magazine and saw a short feature story about “Gettysburg.” I learned that Martin Sheen (of all people) and Tom Berenger would star in it, and that it would be FOUR hours long. What a hell of an endeavor, I thought to myself. I read a little further and learned that much of the screenplay would be based on Shaara’s novel, “The Killer Angels.”
“Interesting,” I thought. “I wonder if the library has that book?” So I put the magazine down, headed over to the card catalog (again, this was 1993) and looked up the novel. Sure enough, it was in the library. I tracked it down. It hadn’t been checked out for about ten years. It was a lazy summer afternoon. I had finished my philosophy class that morning, and I didn’t have anything else to do, so I took the book to a quiet corner of the library and opened it up.
It was beautiful, moving, and absorbing from the very beginning. Shaara gave us a fascinating introduction to the situation and to the characters, understanding that someone opening this book — like me — may not be entirely familiar with the battle or with the history in general. “So,” Shaara seemed to be saying to me, “Here’s a little primer for you. I’m writing it intelligently, because I know you can follow what’s about to happen. And here’s what I’m going to do with the characters and what I want you to understand about them before you meet them, before you follow them into the worst battle in the history of the Western Hemisphere.” And it worked so well. I was hopelessly entranced.
Shaara also had broken the chapters down into perspectives — the days and nights before and during the battle from the vantage points of Lee, Chamberlain, Longstreet, etc. What they felt, what they saw, what they thought — not necessarily what Shaara felt, saw, or thought. Not exactly. “What a great, smart idea,” I thought. I read on and on and on, captivated by Shaara’s prose, his confidence, the details he threw into the story, the nuances that made it all come alive like nothing else I had ever seen before.
Courtesy of John Bruce
There were moments that I laughed. There were moments when I wiped away tears. There were moments when I started to write down the names of characters so I could research them later — Winfield Scott Hancock, Lewis Armistead, James Longstreet, John Reynolds, John Buford, Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain. Shaara had brought them to life so vividly that it fired off something in my starved, simpleton mind. “These people really existed. Even if they weren’t exactly as Shaara writes them to be,” I thought to myself, “here is the ticket to the ride. Here is the key to the treasure chest.” It wasn’t just Shaara saying to me, “Welcome to Civil War history.” He was also saying, “Someday you’re going to write beautiful historical novels. This is how you do it.”
There are two simple passages that I have never forgotten, either as a writer or as a historian. Even now, as I wrote them into this blog, they brought tears to my eyes, the way Mozart‘s or Beethoven‘s perfection shatters my heart into a million pieces and then gently pieces it together again.
The first excerpt is from the prologue.
“Late in June, the Army of the Potomac, ever slow to move, turns north at last to begin the great pursuit which will end at Gettysburg. It is a strange new kind of army, a polygot mass of vastly dissimilar men, fighting for union. There are strange accents and strange religions and many who do not speak English at all. Nothing like this army has been seen on the planet. It is a collection of men from many different places who have seen much defeat and many commanders. They are volunteers: last of the great volunteer armies, for the draft is beginning that summer in the North.
“They have lost faith in their leaders but not in themselves.
“They think this will be the last battle, and they are glad that it is to be fought on their own home ground. They come up from the South, eighty thousand men, up the narrow roads that converge toward the blue mountains. The country through which they march is some of the most beautiful country in the Union.”
The second is from later in the narrative.
“Lee started to rise. A short while ago he had fallen from a horse onto his hands, and when he pushed himself up from the table Longstreet saw him wince.
“Longstreet thought, go to sleep and let me do it. Give the order and I‘ll do it all. He said, ‘I regret the need to wake you, sir.’
“Lee looked past him into the soft blowing dark. The rain had ended. A light wind was moving in the tops of the pines — cool sweet air, gentle and clean. Lee took a deep breath.
“ ‘A good time of night. I have always liked this time of night.’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘Well.’ Lee glanced once almost shyly at Longstreet‘s face, then looked away. They stood together for a moment in awkward silence. They had been together for a long time in war and they had grown very close, but Lee was ever formal and Longstreet was inarticulate, so they stood for a long moment side by side without speaking, not looking at each other, listening to the raindrops fall in the leaves. But the silent moment was enough. After a while Lee said slowly, ‘When this is over, I shall miss it very much.’
“ ‘Yes.’
“ ‘I do not mean the fighting.’
“ ‘No.’
“ ‘Well.’ Lee said. He looked to the sky. ‘It is all in God’s hands.’ ”
How many volumes of Civil War history had Shaara condensed into these two passages? I can’t imagine. But it’s thrilling to think about it.
As my heart and mind absorbed these words, the silly dreams of being a filmmaker, an astronaut, an admiral, or an engineer all faded away. History — its drama, violence, romance, inspiration, lessons and characters — was all I needed to satisfy my intellectual hunger and my determination to lead a noble, dignified, and strenuous life. Novels and short stories, blogs and essays, academic lectures and casual conversations — they’re all somehow rooted in, or unabashedly celebrating, one of the great loves of my life.
Part 6 of this series focuses on Mary Ann and Septimus Palairet, a British couple who honeymooned in the United States and Canada in the 1840s.
This special Stillness of Heart series explores the Morgan Library & Museum’s fascinating exhibit, “The Diary: Three Centuries of Private Lives.”
Part 6 focuses on Mary Ann and Septimus Palairet, a British couple who honeymooned in the United States and Canada in the 1840s. They wrote and illustrated a travel diary, recording — and often haughtily (and hilariously) criticizing — daily life in American society.
“On the boat’s arrival at her destination, the passengers were assailed by a mob of cabmen, porters &c who though not allowed to come on board the steamer quarreled about their passengers, and if any one ventured ashore and presumed to scorn their offer he was nearly pulled to pieces for his temerity.”
Examine images of their wonderful diary and listen to the museum’s audio guide here.
A very wet universe … Celebrating Gordon Wood … A century of studying Machu Picchu … The sound of a paranoid Nixon … The unknown Rick Perry.
Most of these great items come from my Twitter feed or Facebook news feed. Follow me on Twitter and on Facebook for more fascinating videos, articles, essays and criticism. Read past recommendations from this series here.
1.The High Road to Ruins By Andrew Berg | Intelligent Travel :: National Geographic | July 7
“[O]ne eco-minded outfitter is turning the Camino Salkantay, a backcountry route through unspoiled ecosystems and undisturbed hamlets, into the Next Inca Trail—and setting a new standard for sustainable tourism in the Andes.”
2.Machu Picchu, Before and After Excavation National Geographic Daily News | July 22
“The ruins of Machu Picchu are covered in jungle growth in this 1911 photograph taken when Yale archaeologist Hiram Bingham first came to the site a century ago this week.”
3.Gordon S. Wood, Historian of the American Revolution By David Hackett Fischer | The New York Times Book Review | July 22
“More important than his productivity is the quality of his work, and its broad appeal to readers of the right, left and center — a rare and happy combination.”
4.New recordings a window into Nixon’s paranoia By Bill Plante | CBS News | July 21
“It’s no secret that Richard Nixon was obsessed with his enemies — but it turns out it started long before Watergate.”
6.More Fancy Words By Philip B. Corbett | Times Topics :: The New York Times | July 26
“The good news is that Times writers don’t feel the need to use the words panegyric, immiscible or Manichaean very often. That’s fortunate because the bad news is, when we do use them, a lot of readers don’t know what we’re talking about.”
7.Peru’s Garcia leaves conflicts unresolved By Carla Salazar | Associated Press | July 27
“Economic growth averaged 7 percent a year during his 2006-2011 administration, inflation held at less than 3 percent annually and the government amassed $47 billion in foreign reserves. The economic numbers only tell part the story, however.”
8.Black Hole Drinks 140 Trillion Earths’ Worth of Water By Michael D. Lemonick | Time | July 26
“We don’t think of the universe as a terribly wet place, but in fact, there’s water out in space pretty much everywhere you look.”
9.G.D. Spradlin, Prolific Character Actor, Dies at 90 By Douglas Martin | The New York Times | July 26
“In ‘The Godfather: Part II’ (1974) he played Pat Geary, the corrupt United States senator who defies the Mafia boss Michael Corleone, played by Al Pacino, telling Corleone he intends to ‘squeeze’ him.”
10.President Kennedy’s Visit to Ireland Witness :: BBC News | June 27
“The Irish author Colm Toibin remembers President Kennedy returning to the land of his forefathers and being taken to the nation’s heart as if he were one of its own.”
Part 5 of this series focuses on John Newton, a British slave trafficker and later a minister who wrote ‘Amazing Grace.’
This special Stillness of Heart series explores the Morgan Library & Museum’s fascinating exhibit, “The Diary: Three Centuries of Private Lives.”
Part 5 focuses on John Newton, a British slave trafficker and later a minister who wrote “Amazing Grace.” Throughout his adult life, he struggled with his religious faith and with his views on slavery, and the diary captured in daily detail the long, tumultuous spiritual journey he made. In the end, as the exhibit essay explains, Newton simply hoped that someday he “would serve as inspiration to others.”
“I have been reading what I have recorded of my experience in the last year – a strange vanity. I find myself condemn’d in every page[.] But the Lord is good, O how gracious! How wonderfully has he born with my repeated backslidings! And yet the thought but faintly affects. What I can I will – Lord I am not able to praise thee, accept the desire, which I trust is thine own gift – deliver me from that pride, impurity & self seeking, which so fatally interrupt my progress.”
Examine images of the extraordinary diary and listen to the museum’s audio guide here.
One of my guiding principles is that we’re all capable of self-improvement at any age, particularly intellectual self-improvement. Sometimes that faith is the only thing that enables me to sleep through the night and get out of bed in the morning.
That’s Latin for “universal man” or “man of the world,” if Wikipedia can be relied on for a proper translation.
I glide through a small, comfortable life — trying not to bother anyone, trying to be pleasant and polite, non-judgmental and sympathetic, charming and humble, trying to be intellectually honest and self-aware of my limits and flaws, every day edging closer to fulfilling all my ambitions.
One of my guiding principles is that we’re all capable of self-improvement at any age, particularly intellectual self-improvement. Sometimes that faith is the only thing that enables me to sleep through the night and get out of bed in the morning. I’ve always been blessed with a hunger for knowledge, a curiosity that often flares into full-blown passion for new arenas of experience, a curiosity perhaps sparked by a bittersweet frustration that I don’t know as much about literature, science, mathematics, history and culture as I think I should.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve always embraced wholeheartedly people like Theodore Roosevelt and Michelangelo, those who lived their lives desperately hungry for more of the world to absorb into their hearts and minds, constantly reaching out to make more of it their own.
A friend once called me a polymath. Other friends have called me a Renaissance man. I politely laughed off both compliments. I’m certainly no genius. I’d hardly consider myself intelligent, compared to the accomplishments and capabilities of the other men and women in my life.
As I understand it, polymaths and Renaissance men and women possess an immensity of talent to complement that fiery passion to achieve great things in multiple fields, professions, etc. As my quiet life sadly illustrates — in which I’ve been not much more than a minor writer, historian, editor, painter and arts critic — I have very much of the latter and very little of the former.
Perhaps later life will prove otherwise, as I’m slowly exploring how to become a proper pianist, an amateur boxer, an effective apiarist and gardener, an expert numismatist and philatelist, a stellar professor of American Civil War and Roman and Spanish imperial history, a sympathetic and effective psychologist, an historical novelist, a decent speaker, writer and translator of Spanish and Latin, and a less-than-atrocious golfer, photographer, and salsa dancer. My mandate is to be more than a simple-minded, well-meaning hobbyist.
But if none of that works out, perhaps this particular man of the world will be content being someone who’s fun to spend time with, whose passion for history is inspiring, whose writing makes the heart soar, who’s always interesting, always relaxing, always enriching. Always happy.
I’d settle for that last one, above and beyond all the rest.
America’s eternal connection to France … Emmy’s snubbing of ‘Treme’ … The debt ceiling debate … Print out some solar panels … The Afghan power vacuum.
Most of these great items come from my Twitter feed or Facebook news feed. Follow me on Twitter and on Facebook for more fascinating videos, articles, essays and criticism. Read past recommendations from this series here.
1.Did CIA’s Fake Vaccine Drive Undermine Global Health Efforts? The Takeaway | July 13
“Reports are emerging that the C.I.A. used a fake vaccination drive in Pakistan to gather intelligence on the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden, prior to the May 1 raid where the Al Qaida leader was killed.”
2.Where Would Hemingway Go? Room for Debate :: The New York Times | July 13
“Which city is the dynamic center in Europe?”
3.What It Means: the Debt Ceiling and You By Robert Ray | Associated Press | July 13
“If you think the last few days have been tumultuous for markets, just watch as August 2 approaches. The United States faces a trove of issues if the debt ceiling isn’t raised.”
4.Hit ‘Print’ for Solar Panels Egocentric :: Time | July 13
“According to a paper published in the journal Advanced Materials, it’s now possible to print photovoltaic cells on paper almost as you would a document — and almost as cheaply too.”
5.The Navy’s Green Devices: Coming to a Store Near You? By Lucy Flood | The Atlantic | July 11
“As the military commits itself to going green, it’s supporting innovations that could ultimately help American consumers save energy”
6.‘Treme,’ a winning show, suffers Emmy neglect By Lynette Rice | Inside TV :: Entertainment Weekly | July 14
“‘Treme’ is easily among the best drama series on the air, and takes a backseat to no show for the breadth and excellence of its cast. One more thing that makes ‘Treme’ praiseworthy: its uniqueness.”
7.Egypt: How to build a camp in Tahrir Square By Jon Jensen | The Casbah :: GlobalPost | July 14
“A day in the life of Cairo’s Tahrir Square sit-in – which is now entering its seventh day.”
8.Vive la Similarité By David McCullough | The New York Times | July 13
“Though we will probably never see a Bastille Day when French flags fly along Main Street and strains of ‘La Marseillaise’ fill the airwaves, July 14 would not go so largely unobserved here were we better served by memory. For the ties that bind America and France are more important and infinitely more interesting than most of us know.”
9.Afghanistan’s dangerous power vacuum By Ben Brody | GlobalPost | July 14
“The most powerful man in Kandahar is gone. But Afghans say their real worry is the departure of US troops.”
10.Prince Charles and Princess Diana in the USA Witness :: BBC News | July 5
“In 1985 the Royal couple made their first joint visit to America. The highlight of the tour was a gala dinner at the White House where the young Princess danced with John Travolta.”
TUNES
Tonight I’m spending some time with the blues, specifically with the Texas Blues Café. Check out the line-up and then listen here.
1. Bluessmyth — Rosemary’s Blues 2. Michael K’s Rumble Pack — Black Cadillac 3. Los Lonely Boys — Dime Mi Amor 4. Delbert McClinton — Standing On Shaky Ground 5. Billy Joe Shaver & Son Eddy — Step On Up 6. Susan Tedeschi — Voodoo Woman 7. Delta Moon — Lap Dog 8. Too Slim & The Taildraggers — The Fortune Teller 9. Bleu Edmondson — 50 Dollars & A Flask Of Crown 10. Carolyn Wonderland — Misunderstood 11. Frank Gomez — In The Moon Light 12. Allan Haynes — Here In The Dark 13. Jewel — Sweet Home Alabama
The opening of my stories always contain a hint of that deep emotion, like dark clouds building far in the distance, a hint of chill in a warm summer breeze, a half-second of hesitation before a forbidden kiss.
The blog i09 recently explained seven different ways to begin a short story. “A short story is like a chess game,” writer Charlie Jane Anders explained. “The opening is a huge part of whether you win or lose.”
In most of my short story writing, I tend to go with “the mystifier.” I like to open suddenly on a seemingly innocuous moment of a person’s existence, the first few seconds of a new era of someone’s life, or perhaps the moment for us to witness when everything changes forever. The first kiss. That moment when one first senses that love has died. The dawn of someone’s last day on earth.
As I begin to write a story, I’m often already deeply moved by what I know is coming, and the opening of my stories always contain a hint of that deep emotion, like dark clouds building far in the distance, a hint of chill in a warm summer breeze, a half-second of hesitation before a forbidden kiss.
Part 4 of this series focuses on Paul Horgan, a middle-aged novelist who in the summer of 1968 shared Aspen, Colo., with hippies, rich tourists, and others from whom he felt wearily disconnected.
This special Stillness of Heart series explores the Morgan Library & Museum’s fascinating exhibit, “The Diary: Three Centuries of Private Lives.”
Part 4 focuses on Paul Horgan, a middle-aged novelist who in the summer of 1968 shared Aspen, Colo., with hippies, rich tourists, and others from whom he felt wearily disconnected. Nevertheless, he took comfort and inspiration from his perch as a keen observer of the details that define and enrich daily life.
“I remember once being sent to bed physically ill because I could not be a part of the off-hand dinner conversation of a couple — young, beautiful, articulate — at the next table, in a hotel restaurant in Corpus Christi, Texas. To be ready to die because a beautiful young man and a beautiful girl were not known to me, or did not want me with them!”
Examine images of Horgan’s fascinating diary and learn more about him here.
Part 3 in this series focuses on Sophia and Nathaniel Hawthorne, newlyweds who co-authored a diary celebrating their new lives together.
This special Stillness of Heart series explores the Morgan Library & Museum’s fascinating exhibit, “The Diary: Three Centuries of Private Lives.”
Part 3 focuses on Sophia and Nathaniel Hawthorne, newlyweds who co-authored a diary celebrating their new lives together.
“Happiness has no succession of events; because it is a part of eternity, and we have been living in eternity, ever since we came to this old Manse. Like Enoch, we seem to have been translated to the other state of being, without having passed through death.”
Examine images of their heart-swelling diary and listen to the museum’s audio guide here.
Observations on the Hudson River as it passes through New York City. The section of the Hudson which passes through New York is historically known as the North River, called this by the Dutch to distinguish it from the Delaware River, which they knew as the South River. This stretch of the Hudson is still often referred to as the North River by local mariners today. All photos copyright Daniel Katzive unless otherwise attributed. For more frequent updates, please follow northriverblog on Facebook or Instagram.
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