Lincoln's Virtues by William Lee Miller

miller_lincolns.jpgIt turns out that raising your first child, taking a bar exam, starting a new job, and moving into a new house can take a hefty chunk out of one's free time. Other than the month of May, when we moved, I have been able to keep up with my reading at a decent pace. But clearly the blogging has fallen completely by the wayside. I had harbored ambitions of going back and writing reviews of all the books read this year that have gone unreviewed, but reality has set in and compromises made.

In July, I read both volumes of William Lee Miller's unusual biography of Abraham Lincoln; Lincoln's Virtues taking its subject to the cusp of the presidency, with the aptly titled President Lincoln completing the story. Though there is ample justification for thinking that nothing new can be said of our greatest president, new titles continue to roll off the presses, with last year's bicentennial an especially prolific year. There is clearly a market that supports this Lincolnphilia (and occasional unhinged Lincolnphobia) and I have done my small part. In recent years I have read Lincoln biographies by David Herbert Donald and Richard Carwardine, as well as Doris Kearns Goodwin's history of Lincoln's Team of Rivals, with Donald's book the best of a very competitive field.

While Donald's Lincoln retains my recommendation for a single volume life of the Railsplitter, Miller's effort offers an interesting complement. Like Goodwin, who illuminates Lincoln's political skill through his relationship with his powerful cabinet, Miller offers a distinct lens through which Lincoln's life takes on greater dimension. His focus, telegraphed by subtitling Lincoln's Virtues as an "ethical biography," is on the moral aspect of Lincoln's character and its evolution:

The place and moment and lineage of his birth, and the events of his time, were given, beyond all choosing, as for any man or woman; but within those limits there were many choosings. There was, alongside the elements of necessity, the reality of freedom, and therefore of moral choice. It is the purpose of this book to examine some of the shaping moral choices made by Abraham Lincoln as he rose to power, and perhaps simultaneously to suggest something about moral life in the American democracy for which he would become such an eloquent spokesman, so worthy an exemplar, and so potent a symbol.

Miller is quite explicit in his admiration of Lincoln, but this is no mere hagiography. Instead, Lincoln's moral greatness is the thesis which Miller sets out to prove, through a close examination of Lincoln's life and writings. Miller leaves no stone unturned in analyzing Lincoln's childhood and the circumstances under which he met the world, as well as his budding legal and political career in the then-frontier state of Illinois. The young Lincoln faces moral choices on numerous fronts, and Miller explores everything from Lincoln's childhood sympathy for animals to his merciful sparing of an Indian chief during his brief tenure in the Illinois Militia. His opposition to the Mexican-American war (during his sole congressional term) proved a pivotal and controversial moment:

That this was a genuine conviction we may surely discern particularly from his earnest private letters, as we will see in a moment. He took the floor to challenge the president with an awareness of the bellicosity and eagle-screaming expansionism of his home district and state, bluntly express by the state's senior senator, Stephen A. Douglas. He must therefore have known that it would cost him politically. If all this be true, might we not begin to discern in Lincoln's speeches (for all their excess) the fain suggestion of the beginnings of a hint of something like a Profile in Courage?

But of course the abiding moral controversy of Lincoln's time was that of slavery, and the noxious web of disputes that the existence of slavery entailed. Miller provides a convincing presentation of Lincoln's longstanding fundamental opposition to slavery, but this only raises further questions about the morality of the practical compromises Lincoln would have to make throughout his career, and the ways in which he would square his opposition to slavery with the other values he held dear, such as the rule of law and the sanctity of the Union. How, for example, to understand Lincoln's lack of opposition to fugitive slave laws?

Because he believed in abiding by the law and the Constitution as he understood it, because there were obligations under the original agreement among the states, because the current objectionable law was the result of a bargain in which each side got something, because therefore it was, however distasteful, his duty, Lincoln did not oppose a Fugitive Slave Law. As an emerging political leader and shaper of opinion in 1854-1860, and as President of a war-torn nation in 1861-1865, he would always oppose slavery strongly--but within the law, under the Constitution, affirming the continuing bond of the Union.

Lincoln is an unusually excellent subject for this sort of analysis, not just for the monumental nature of the times in which he lived, but because of the tremendous written record he left behind. Lincoln was one of the few gifted writers to have graced the nation's highest office. Miller is at his best in textual analysis, particularly when parsing the variations in evolving drafts of a document and mining these changes for insight into the author's thinking. But if Miller can be complimented on the exhaustive nature of his examination, he can also be questioned for assuming a moral dimension to sometimes trivial occurrences.

This is a secondary biography, without doubt. The extended grappling with the moral dimension of Lincoln's life presumes a substantial familiarity with the underlying narrative, and one would be well-advised to start with David Donald's classic or Ronald White's latest. But once one knows that Lincoln lived in great times and did great things, it remains important to understand why he did those things, and why the doing of those things was worthy of admiration.

It is unsatisfying to simple presume some fundamental goodness on Lincoln's part; he was a man, not a god. He made choices, and it is those choices that bore moral weight. It was Lincoln's struggle to make the right choices that made his life truly great, and thus worth all the time and effort that we still devote to understanding him.

The Month in Books - August 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in August:

  1. Oscar and Lucinda - Peter Carey
  2. Mystic River - Dennis Lehane
  3. Shutter Island - Dennis Lehane
  4. A Drink Before the War - Dennis Lehane
  5. Ghostwritten - David Mitchell

Pages Read: 1,675
Year-to-Date: 9,768
Books > 650 pages: 3

The Month in Books - July 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in July:

  1. Lincoln's Virtues - William Lee Miller
  2. President Lincoln - William Lee Miller

Pages Read: 879
Year-to-Date: 8,093
Books > 650 pages: 3

The Month in Books - June 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in June:

  1. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larsson
  2. The Girl Who Played With Fire - Stieg Larsson
  3. The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest - Stieg Larsson

Pages Read: 1,531
Year-to-Date: 7,214
Books > 650 pages: 3

The Month in Books - May 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in May:

  1. Rostropovich - Elizabeth Wilson

Pages Read: 349
Year-to-Date: 5,683
Books > 650 pages: 3

The Month in Books - April 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in April:

  1. Zoli - Colum McCann
  2. Olive Kitteridge - Elizabeth Strout
  3. The Prize - Daniel Yergin

Pages Read: 1,379
Year-to-Date: 5,334
Books > 650 pages: 3

The Month in Books - March 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in March:

  1. A World at Arms - Gerhard Weinberg

Pages Read: 920
Year-to-Date: 3,955
Books > 650 pages: 2

The Month in Books - February 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in February:

  1. A People's History of the United States - Howard Zinn
  2. This Side of Brightness - Colum McCann
  3. Dancer - Colum McCann
  4. Dressing the Man - Alan Flusser

Pages Read: 1,585
Year-to-Date: 3,035
Books > 650 pages: 1

The Month in Books - January 2010

At the start of 2010, I set a goal to read 15,000 pages by year's end, including twelve books of greater than 650 pages. I am measuring progress in pages, rather than titles, to avoid any bias toward shorter books. Here's what I read in January:

  1. Let the Great World Spin - Colum McCann (review)
  2. Young Stalin - Simon Sebag Montefiore (review)
  3. Number9Dream - David Mitchell
  4. The Elegance of the Hedgehog - Muriel Barbery

Pages Read: 1,450
Year-to-Date: 1,450
Books > 650 pages: 0

Young Stalin by Simon Sebag Montefiore

montefiore_young.jpgI had only lukewarm things to say about Simon Sebag Montefiore's biography, Stalin, which I felt took a far too gossipy approach to the regime of one of the world's most malevolent mass murderers. Rather than explore and analyze the mechanics of the Great Terror or Stalin's plans for collectivization, Montefiore gave detailed accounts of dinner parties and vacations. So it may come as a surprise that I even picked up his second book on the dictator, Young Stalin, but I was handed a copy by my father, who enjoyed it, and figured I would give it a try. It is a superior book to its predecessor, even though it self-consciously takes the same approach, for which Montefiore has clearly heard criticism:

I make no apology that my two books are tightly focused on the intimate and secret, political and personal lives of Stalin and the small circle that ultimately came to create and rule the Soviet Union until the 1960s. Ideology must be our foundation as it was for the Bolsheviks, but the new archives show that the personalities and patronage of a miniscule oligarchy were the essence of politics under Lenin and Stalin...

I suspect that what Montefiore really decided was to exalt any previously unrelated details, trivial as they may be, at the expense of a thorough analysis of his subject. Fair enough, that's his choice, but in a 700 page book like Stalin, he should have been able to capture both. The problem is exacerbated by the gap between the two books; Stalin essentially opens with the suicide of Stalin's second wife in 1932, and yet Young Stalin ends with the October Revolution of 1917. Thus one can read both of Montefiore's volumes on Stalin, well over a thousand pages, and have not the slightest knowledge of his role in the Russian Civil War, the creation of the Soviet Union, or the power struggle after Lenin's demise. This boggles my mind.

That said, I will say that his approach works better when focused solely on Stalin's early years, in a book that runs half the length of the previous one. This is a timeframe in which the personal is the natural focus, and even the political side of Stalin's life at this point is largely a function of the people with whom he associates. His youthful acquaintances read like a list of mid-century Soviet heavies: Ordzhonikidze, Kalinin, Molotov, Voroshilov.

Perhaps most remarkable is the revelation that in many ways, the young Stalin was no more than a mafioso with ideological motivations. Sure, the money was going to Lenin, and Stalin seemed to be a true believer in the Bolshevik cause, but much of he did to further that cause amounted to no more than a series of violent felonies:

"On the initiative and orders of Stalin," said one of his top gangsters, Bachua Kupriashvili, a permanent gang of brigands was now assembled. "Our tasks were procuring arms, organizing prison escapes, holding up banks and arsenals, and kill traitors." Stalin commissioned Tsintsadze to set up "the Technical Group or the Bolshevik Expropriators Club, it was soon known by another nickname--Duzhina, the Group, or just Outfit."

Soso [Stalin's childhood nickname] strained his ingenuity to raise cash for Lenin, travelling widely to Novorossiisk on the Black Sea, and Vladikavkaz, in Ossetia. In Tiflis, he ordered schools and the seminary to deliver cash from their teachers while he discreetly prepated the Outfit for his gangster rackets.

The story of young Stalin is the story of the rise of the Bolsheviks, but also the teetering last years of the Romanov empire. It is a sign of the preposterous short-sighted weakness of the Tsarist regime that despite numerous arrests and exiles, Stalin was inevitably able to raise enough funds to bribe his way back. Only his final Siberian banishment, to the edges of the North Pole, is sufficiently secluded to ensure he completed his term:

If Stalin called Kostino "an ill-fated place," Kureika was a freezing hellhole, the sort of place where a man could believe himself utterly forgotten and even lose his sanity: its desolate solitude and obligatory self-containment were to remain with Stalin throughout his life.

I still think that those interested in Stalin are best served starting with what Montefiore terms "an exhaustive narrative history;" the two he recommends are by Robert Conquest and Robert Service. It seems unlikely that many readers would be more interested in Stalin's love life or taste in movies than in his role as Soviet dictator. But for those who have such tastes, or have already read a more traditional biography and are looking for some added spice, Montefiore's account of Stalin's early years should be just the ticket.