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Review Essay

Writing Progressive Era History for Trade Publication

By David Traxel, University of the Sciences, Philadelphia


RAUCHWAY, ERIC. Murdering McKinley: The Making of Theodore Roosevelt's America. New York: Hill and Wang, 2003. xiv + 250 pp. Preface, illustrations, notes, index. $25.00 (cloth), ISBN 0-8090-7170-3; $14.00 (paper), ISBN 0-8090-1638-9.

DALTON, KATHLEEN. Theodore Roosevelt: A Strenuous Life. New York: Knopf, 2002. x + 708 pp. Introduction, illustrations, notes, index. $35.00 (cloth), ISBN 0-679-44663-x; $17.00 (paper), ISBN 0-679-76733-9.

KAZIN, MICHAEL. A Godly Hero: The Life of William Jennings Bryan. New York: Knopf, 2006. xi + 374 pp. Introduction, illustrations, notes, index. $35.00 (cloth), ISBN 0-375-41135-6; $16.95 (paper), ISBN 978-038-5720564.

      To make the "crossover" from an exclusively academic audience to a wider readership by publishing with a trade house instead of a university press is a common ambition in academia. There are good reasons for this: It is a way to educate outside the walls of the classroom; it can satisfy a desire for renown, whether through appearing on Oprah or being interviewed by Terry Gross; and the financial rewards are often greater, especially if you appear on Oprah. Norman Cantor, the cantankerous New York University medievalist who loved to épater practically everyone, once caused a bit of a controversy when he argued that "no historian who can write English prose should publish more than two books with a university press—one book for tenure, and one for full professor. After that (or preferably long before) work only in the trade market."1 Cantor himself enjoyed moderate success with his books, while other academic historians such as Jonathan Spence, Joseph Ellis, and James McPherson have shown up regularly on both award and bestseller lists. 1
      There are some basic differences in the way the two types of publishing operate. University presses usually demand that a book be completed and peer reviewed before full acceptance, and, since these subsidized publishers don't offer advances or high royalties, they are generally satisfied with a small press run that will be marketed mainly to libraries. 2
      Trade presses are profit-making enterprises, at least in ambition. They do not ask for peer review, but instead require a long, detailed proposal that not only lays out the essentials of the projected book, but also addresses who the audience will be and what similar, i.e., competitive, texts are already in print or soon to appear. Sample chapters are then frequently asked for, and approval or rejection is decided by a board of editors. Once the proposal is accepted, the publisher pays an advance, which usually runs from the low–to mid–five figures, to smooth the author's way to completion and to help pay for indexing and illustrations. Some authors believe that it is essential to have an agent to help in the process since agents are so knowledgeable about what various trade editors want; Cantor argued that "if you are already a full professor, your agent should be much more important to you than the department chair or the dean."2 But it can be as difficult to interest an effective agent in your work as it is to find a gifted and willing editor, and there are a number of editors who prefer to work directly with an author rather than through an agent. 3
      The purpose of the proposal and the sample chapters is to determine whether the book has a chance of attracting a general readership that will buy enough copies to repay the advance and earn something extra. A weakness for abstract theorizing, obscure debates with other scholars, clumsy or dry prose uninspired by creative thought or interpretation are grounds for immediate rejection. 4
      All of which, it seems to me, plays to the advantage of historians. The challenges faced by individuals through a historical period are among the most fascinating of subjects, as is the evolution of the broader society under the pressure of historical forces. Historians are practiced in telling stories, and traditionally historians, if they manage to avoid being permanently maimed by the deadening effects of PhD thesis writing, have been more noted for graceful and lively prose than other academic disciplines. 5
      Studies of little-known political or literary figures or ordinary citizens are not what trade publishers welcome, because they believe that they would sell few books. Colorful, important lives and times are desirable as a major focus, along with a well-drawn supporting cast; there are some perennials, one outstanding example being Theodore Roosevelt, whose life has become a genre in itself. He plays a major role in two of the three books under review, but even aside from that roisterous presence it would be difficult to find studies that better exemplify the blend of meticulous scholarship, interesting characters, fascinating tales, striking interpretations, and good writing that is required for successful trade history books. 6
      The assassination of William McKinley in September of 1901 usually only merits attention from historians who note how it launched the epic, if "accidental," presidency of TR. But Eric Rauchway, who teaches at the University of California at Davis, recognized the potential of a deep examination of the event to explore many facets of late nineteenth-century America—from racism and the desperate lives of industrial workers to the state of justice and psychiatry to the development of serious progressive thought in the new president. 7
      Rauchway researched intensely and widely, pulling much original information to the fore and weaving it into a startlingly fresh view of the period; he discovered remarkable little-known people, recounts a good story, and has a sharp eye for the telling detail. For example, few are aware that it was an African American waiter named James Parker who immediately disarmed the self-proclaimed anarchist Leon Czolgosz, saving McKinley from a third bullet; one reason for this ignorance is that a week after reporting the heroic act, the Secret Service changed its account, now claiming that it was an Irish American who had reacted so swiftly. The author uses this seemingly irrelevant incident to explain succinctly the situation of African Americans in 1901 without a bit of straining for effect or softening of contradictions, as when he reports that Parker was sorry that he and the Exposition crowd had been stopped from lynching Czolgosz: "We would have fixed him quick in Georgia" (76). 8
      Among other important points, Rauchway argues that the effect of the assassination on Roosevelt was far reaching and was one of the reasons that the whilom dude became more radical by the 1912 election. "If there was any single purpose to progressivism as Roosevelt defined it, it was that Americans must all exercise themselves to the utmost, and sacrifice as need be, to prevent the creation of wounded souls like Leon Czolgosz" (196). This is, of course, ironic in light of TR's own shooting during the Progressive campaign by a similarly wounded soul. 9
      Czolgosz in barely mentioned in Kathleen Dalton's study of Roosevelt, but one quote is particularly noteworthy. When TR invited Booker T. Washington to the White House for dinner, Congressman Thomas Heflin of Alabama gave a public speech wherein he opined that "if some Czolgosz had thrown a bomb under the table...no great harm would have been done the country" (216). Dalton uses this dinner as well as other such brave encounters to show how Roosevelt managed to overcome the various prejudices, race only one among many, with which he had been raised. 10
      Dalton, who teaches at Phillips Academy, worked on this biography for close to thirty years and in that time winkled out new sources and revisited all the old ones. She knows her subject, gives intelligent interpretations to his acts and poses, and, especially considering all the information she has to cram into the book, writes with clarity and grace. She is at great pains to give a flesh-and-blood portrait of a man who in lesser hands has become either a granite statue or an antic cartoon, pointing out among other insights that he did not conquer his asthma through will and self-discipline, but suffered from it all his life, and he did not abandon his daughter Alice or refuse to talk about his first wife after her death. She is particularly good on Roosevelt's later years when illness, chauvinism, and hatred of Wilson seem to have shrunk his once considerable tolerance of opposition. In her quest to humanize the man she perhaps underplays too much the drama of the life, but the vitality always comes through. 11
      Though on the whole objective, Dalton can be less understanding of a few of his enemies, such as Woodrow Wilson, and sometimes too readily gives Roosevelt the benefit of the doubt, as when Wilson rejected his fantasy of leading a Rough Rider brigade into combat in France during the Great War. "Wilson had every reason to fear TR politically and therefore to prevent another San Juan Hill from electing TR president in 1920. So he turned TR down" (477). Of course it was much more complicated than that, involving a totally different war than the short impetuous conflict of 1898, a modern war in which brave charges had, time after time, resulted only in huge slaughter. But this partisan attitude is rare, and the result is the most complete and best single-volume study of our twenty-sixth president. 12
      William Jennings Bryan is, of course, a different sort of man, and yet, perhaps not all that different. Certainly in terms of both popular and scholarly opinion, he lacks the drawing power of Theodore Roosevelt, though there have been a number of solid previous biographies. When Michael Kazin, professor of history at Georgetown University, asked a distinguished Washington journalist what he thought of his idea of a new biography of Bryan, the response was a terse and disdainful, "People will not understand," and Kazin's agent warned him from the beginning, "One cannot assume interest," good advice that should always be on the mind of a writer for trade publishers (ix–x). 13
      There are many reasons for this scorn. Americans do not celebrate losers, and no other major party candidate has ever lost three presidential elections—moral victories usually don't count; Bryan's enormous rhetorical gifts now seem boringly old-fashioned; he articulated the endemic racism of his time; he served as an ardent spokesman for the prohibition of alcohol; and his defense of fundamentalist anti-Darwinism at the Scopes trial has made him an easily mocked figure: The Great Commoner came to seem all too common and provincial. But Kazin persisted, writing this book "to gain a measure of respect for Bryan and his people," to save them from what E. P. Thompson called "the enormous condescension of posterity" (xviii). 14
      There are a number of parallels between Roosevelt and Bryan. Both were charismatic and sparked by tremendous energy that did not begin to sputter until age and illness set in. Both were pioneering celebrities, Bryan responding more graciously than TR to intrusions on his privacy. When fans asked that he show himself even while lathered for a shave, he would emerge to shake hands and share banalities. What Bryan did for the Democratic Party was similar to what Theodore Roosevelt tried to do for the Republicans, to make their followers recognize the dangers of old paths and summon the courage to change for new times. Bryan, like TR, grew more radical in old age, proposing nationalized railroads and telephone systems and arguing that the federal government should finance election campaigns, evolving from his old Jeffersonian ideals of a weak federal state. Both were good men, after their different fashions. 15
      Even Bryan's crackpot stands at the Scopes trial, which have distorted the public's memory of him, at least make for a recognizable caricature. All this gives Kazin something to work with to draw an audience; in splendid prose he demonstrates the man's popular appeal through anecdotes, makes sense of some of his more inchoate positions, admires his contributions to FDR's New Deal, and convincingly portrays him as a sympathetic figure, making this seemingly unmodern man pertinent to modern times. He too has found minor characters who are interesting in themselves, but also shed light on his larger subject, as with Dudley Field Malone who was a "handsome forty- three-year-old" divorce lawyer and former assistant secretary of state under Bryan. Defending Scopes, he opposed Bryan and delivered a tribute to free thought that was "the most effective speech of the entire trial." The author quotes powerful portions of the oration, then reports that "the courtroom, filled with anti-Darwinists, exploded into applause that lasted for several minutes. Bryan, chagrined yet magnanimous, walked over to Malone and said, 'Although we differ, I have never heard a better speech.' The defense attorney replied, 'I am terribly sorry I had to do it" (289–90). A revealing little set-piece in a book that is filled with them; Kazin has written a model trade book as well as an accomplished scholarly biography. It is a masterwork by a master historian. 16
      What all three books have in common is the study of evolving lives, of both major and minor characters interacting with large historical forces, lives that illustrate major themes of their times and are still relevant to ours. They are researched and written to very high standards and are examples of the sort of important historical work that contemporary trade publishers are capable of recognizing and promoting. One has a real sense from these books, and others, that we are experiencing a renaissance in narrative history. 17
      The question is: for how much longer? Publishing is now beset by the same uncertainties that are attacking all the traditional media. Many university presses are losing their subsidies, while academic libraries are forced to cut book purchases because of declining budgets; trade publishing is suffering from over-consolidation and the diminishing audience for serious books as that mythological beast, the general reader, has either been dying off or finding other interests. These challenges have led to a crisis of confidence that will make it more difficult to find either sort of publisher, but then it has never been easy. 18



1 Norman Cantor, "Trade Publishers Have Fiscal Appeal," Letter to the Editor, AHA Perspectives 29 (May/June 1991): 20.

2 Ibid.


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