Category: History (Page 2 of 7)

Author Q & A with Hampton Sides

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (October 7)

Author-journalist Hampton Sides brings his readers yet another true–but almost unbelievable–high-stakes account of grit and courage with his newest work, On Desperate Ground: The Marines at the Reservoir, the Korean War’s Greatest Battle.

Though lesser known than other heroic military campaigns throughout America’s history, the struggle that played out along the frozen shores of the Chosin Reservoir in the snowy mountains of North Korea in 1950 tested the mettle of the First Marine Division beyond reason.

Through his meticulous research that includes declassified documents, unpublished letters and interviews with scores of survivors on both lines, Sides presents a “grunt’s-eye view of history” as he shows “what ordinary men are capable of in the most extreme circumstances.”

His previous books include Ghost SoldiersBlood and ThunderHellhound on His Trail, and In the Kingdom of Ice. An award-winning editor for Outside magazine, Sides’ Ghost Soldiers also captured the PEN USA Award for Nonfiction.

A native of Memphis, Sides is a graduate of Yale University and teaches narrative nonfiction at Colorado College.

Since you grew up in Memphis, do you have ties to our state?

Yes. I have deep roots in Mississippi, actually. I have lots of relatives from around Holly Springs. My dad taught at Ole Miss law school. Some of my best early journalism was done in the state. And I always love getting back to the Delta, which just has a certain vibe about it that I’ve always loved.

Throughout your writing career, your books and journalistic works have focused on a steady stream of real-life–and often high-risk–tales of adventure, discovery, exploration, and the great outdoors, not to mention war and other profound historical narratives. Tell me how you developed your appetite for these bold themes.

Hampton Sides

Probably my interest in these types of stories grew out of my years as an editor at Outside magazine, which over the years has run some of the very best adventure and sports writing in the country. When I was on staff there, I got to work with some of the preeminent writers in the country, who gave me some terrific ideas about how to make writing vivid and muscular, and how to make things come alive on the page.

I decided to go back into history and hunt for some of those same qualities that we were looking for at Outside. Many of my books have focused on the larger theme of human endurance–how people survive terrible ordeals, summoning some combination of courage, ingenuity, and grace under pressure. It’s a powerful motif, and one I seem to keep returning to.

On Desperate Ground is an account of the almost unbelieveable efforts of the U.S. Marines during a pivotal battle in the Korean conflict of the 1950s. Considering the substantial investment  of your time and effort, how do you make decisions on topics to write about–and how did this story catch your attention?

Years ago, at a book signing in Virginia, I met a grizzled old veteran of the battle. With a hand that was missing a few digits from frostbite, he slipped me this card that said “The Chosin Few.” He said I ought to write about it someday. Honestly, I’d never even heard of the Chosin Reservoir. I put the card in my pocket and didn’t think about it for many years.

When I finally started looking into the battle, I realized it was one of the most harrowing clashes in our history, a remarkable feat of arms. I thought it should be better known. Here, it seemed, was the ultimate military survival story. Finally, with all the recent developments in our relations with China and the two Koreas, I felt that was an auspicious time to tell this classic story.

Many readers will no doubt be surprised to read your portrayal of Gen. Douglas MacArthur, disclosed in this book through his actions and attitudes. Describe the man your research revealed.

In 1950, Douglas MacArthur was a famously arrogant man and a glory hound at the height of his power, but he was criminally out of touch with reality. He ignored clear evidence that vast numbers of Chinese had entered North Korea to spring a trap and prepare a surprise attack.

He presided over one of the most egregious intelligence failures in American military history. And once the intelligence came in loud and clear, he and his staff of sycophants chose to ignore it, suppress it, or willfully misinterpret its import. In so doing, they needlessly put many tens of thousands of Americans in harm’s way. In my mind, he has a lot of blood on his hands.

You write in the book that the soldiers who survived this horrific, bitterly cold battle were “different men” when it was over. What can you tell me about your interviews with actual survivors of this battle.

At Chosin, the mercury dropped to 20 below zero, sometimes even lower. Many weapons wouldn’t fire. Lots of guys froze to death. The weather claimed more casualties than the combatants did. More than 80 percent of these men suffered severe frostbite. Many lost fingers and toes. Some of them told me they still feel the cold., that they never did quite thaw the chill from their bones.

All battles are terrible, but this one was fought under such extreme conditions, on such forbidding terrain, in such insane weather, and against such overwhelming numerical odds, that it takes a special place in the annals of combat. It’s one of the most decorated battles in our nation’s history, and with good reason. The extremity of the ordeal brought to the fore a naked survival instinct, a fierce camaraderie, and a rare improvisational spirit.

And yet, because i twas in the Korean War, much about their experience has been forgotten. I know a lot of these veterans are resentful of the fact that their experiences and sacrifices seem to have been largely ignored by so many of their countrymen and given short shrift in the history books.

The current, developing relationship between North and South Korea, along with the role of the United States, has been in the news a lot lately. Can  you share your thoughts on their progress, and what you may see in their future?

I recently spent time in South Korea, and I was heartened by what I saw and heard. I could feel a certain energy in the air, almost like we saw in Germany before the wall came down. I know that President Trump likes to take credit for these developments, but the desire to improve relations between the two countries is much, much bigger than any one individual. I think what we are seeing is largely an organic phenomenon of the people, not one that’s particularly being driven by the U.S., China, or any other power.

Of course, Korea should never have been divided in the first place–it is one of the great tragedies of modern times. Many, many thousands of families were torn apart and never were allowed to see each other again. Korea is one people, one language, one culture, and I believe one day it will be united again.

Are you already working on another book or other project, and, if so, what can you tell me about it?

My next book, tentatively titled The Resolution, is about the final fateful voyage of the British explorer, Captain James Cook. It takes place during the American Revolution, and I plan to give the story a uniquely American slant. I’ve just begun the research, which will take me from Tasmania to Kamchatka, from the Bering Strait to Tahiti, with lots of time in Hawaii and the archives of London. In the end, it’s a story of far-flung exploration, and a tragic collision of cultures in Polynesia. It will keep me busy for years, and I can’t wait to get started.

Hampton Sides will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, October 10, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and read from On Desperate Ground. On Desperate Ground is Lemuria’s October 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Author Q & A with Gary Krist

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (July 29)

Gary Krist’s fascinating account of the history of Los Angeles during the first three decades of the 20th century puts a highly personal face on the mage-city’s early days through the almost unbelievable stories of three of its most interesting and important influencers in The Mirage Factory: Illusion, Imagination, and the Invention of Los Angeles (Crown Publishing).

The stories of engineer William Mulholland, filmmaker D.W. Griffith, and evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson weave a dramatic and entertaining narrative that reveals much of how the unique culture and personality of today’s Los Angeles evolved.

Krist also authored the bestselling Empire of Sin and City of Scoundrels as well as The White Cascade, along with five novels. HIs work has appeared in the New York TimesEsquire, the Wall Street JournalWashington Post Book World, and other publications.

His work has earned honors that include the Stephen Crane Award, the Sue Kaufman Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Letters, a Lowell Thomas Gold Medal for Travel Journalism, and others.

Gary Krist

Born and raised in Fort Lee, New Jersey, just across the river from Manhattan, Krist earned a degree in Comparative Literature from Princeton and later studied in Germany on a Fulbright Scholarship. He went on to live in New York City, then Bethesda, Maryland, for more than two decades before returning to his home state of New Jersey–where today, he and his wife Elizabeth Cheng now live in “an apartment in Jersey City right on the river looking out toward lower Manhattan.”

In your most recent books, you’ve written about New Orleans (Empire of Sin) and Chicago (City of Scoundrels). What led you to write about Los Angeles?

I see The Mirage Factory as the third of a trilogy of city narratives, the first two being, as you mention, the books about Chicago and New Orleans. It’s been fascinating to explore how each city grew and developed over time, each one coping with similar issues but in different ways, depending on the particular people and circumstances in each place.

What intrigued me about Los Angeles was the fact that this remarkable urban entity grew up in a place where no city should logically be. The area was too dry, too far from natural resources and potential markets; it was isolated by deserts and mountain ranges and without a good deep-water port. And yet it grew from a largely agricultural town of 100,000 in 1900 to a major metropolis of 1.2 million by 1930. That feat required imagination, not to mention some really unorthodox tactics–including plenty of deceptive advertising–and that’s the story I wanted to tell.

Please explain the title of the book.

The main point I wanted to convey in the title is that, granted, the city being promoted in the early 20th century was at first more image than reality, but eventually the hard work was done to make those mirages real. Since the site of Los Angeles lacked so many of the usual inducements to growth, city boosters trying to convince people and businesses to move to L.A. had to do a little creative salesmanship.

For instance, L.A. was advertised as a blossoming garden in the desert long before it had enough water to sustain that image; but eventually, through an enormous expenditure of creativity, effort, and money, it solved the problem by building the aqueduct. The city was also attracting too little industry; it solved this problem by more or less creating its own brand-new industry–motion pictures–a business literally based on selling images to the public.

So, while some people have interpreted the title too negatively, I see the term “mirage” as having both negative and positive connotations; a mirage, after all, stops being fraudulent when it actually takes physical form and becomes real.

The stories of the rise and fall of the figures you’ve chosen to highlight in this well-documented history of Los Angeles from 1900 to 1930 would probably be deemed almost unbelievable if they were fictional. In The Mirage Factory, you’ve chosen “three flawed visionaries,” as you called them, to tell the story of the city’s growth and cultural development during these years: engineer William Mulholland, filmmaker D.W. Griffith; and evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson. When you were conducting research for ideas, how did you settle on these three?

I always like to put a human face on the history I’m telling, so I try to focus on a few individuals whose stories allow me to discuss the important issues in a concrete way. these people are not necessarily the most influential figures in a city’s history, and they’re certainly not the individuals who “single-handedly” built the city–cities are always a group effort. But they must in some way be representative of the larger forces that DID build the city.

In the case of The Mirage Factory, I needed individuals to represent the three strands of the story I wanted to weave together–what I sometimes refer to as the water story, the celluloid story (i.e. Hollywood), and the spirituality story.

The first was a no-brainer; Mulholland was the dominant figure in L.A.’s water story for decades, and you really can’t tell the city’s history without him. For the celluloid story, I had a number of possible choices–Cecil B. DeMille, Charlie Chaplin, or on the studio heads like Adolph Zukor–but ultimately Griffith seemed to be the seminal figure, the person most responsible for taking the motion picture from a vaudeville house novelty to an industry-supporting art form. And as for McPherson, she may seem an obscure choice, since she’s not well known now; but in her day, she was at least as famous and influential as the other two, and she brought a large number of spiritually-seeking people to L.A.

Of course, the fact that all three of these people were fascinating individuals–with character flaws as big as their talents–was a definite bonus for me as a storyteller.

The city’s explosion in population from 1900 to 1930 was incredible, and you state that there were three main migrations to the city: the first being the well-off; the second primarily middle class; and third being those lower socioeconomic status who arrived hoping to become laborers. Tell me about the evolution of the city’s population as the years passed.

One thing that really surprised me when I was researching was how relatively homogeneous L.A.’s population was in the early decades of the 20th century, compared to that of other American cities. Given L.A.’ s current identity as a rich multicultural center, it was astonishing to me that the Los Angeles of the 1900s and 1910s still lacked large Latino, Asian, and African-American populations. That changed, of course, over the 1920s and 1930s, and especially during and after World War II. But until the 1920s, the city was drawing new residents largely from the well-heeled white populations of the Midwestern and Eastern states.

Taking each of the main characters individually, I’ll start with the contributions of Mulholland–an uneducated, self-taught man who would later be recognized as one of the leading engineers in the world. Why was his role so vital to the city’s existence and its future?

Mulholland was a phenomenon–a tireless autodidact with a remarkable memory and a prodigious work ethic who chose to devote his entire life to taking on the technical challenges of his adopted city. Every city should be so lucky. He was chief engineer of the Department of Water and Power, and its predecessor agencies, for decades, during which time he built the city’s water system up from essentially a small network of wooden pipes and open ditches. Really, the conception and construction of the L.A. Aqueduct was only one of his many feats.

The problem with Mulholland was that he began to believe the fastest and most efficient way to get things done was to do it all himself. As a result, he often proceeded without sufficient oversight and input from people who might have had more expertise in a specific area. In the end, that was the character flaw that led to the St. Francis Dam disaster and finished his career.

The role that D.W. Griffith played in the film industry was a major contribution to the city’s growth, providing thousands of jobs. What made his efforts to establish the industry in Los Angeles so successful?

Griffith essentially laid the groundwork for narrative motion pictures by taking many of the techniques being developed in the early years–close-ups, tracking shots, crosscutting–and combining them into a coherent and flexible grammar of visual storytelling. He didn’t invent those techniques, as he sometimes claimed, but he was uniquely successful at blending them to tell a powerful story.

As for turning movies into a major industry, though, it was the extraordinary financial success of his film The Birth of a Nation–as problematic as its racism was and is–that finally convinced Wall Street and the Eastern banks that movies were more than just a cottage industry–that they could be a big business comparable to steel, oil, and textiles.

The story of Aimee Semple McPherson is one I’ve never heard, but fascinating. Her evangelistic leadership played into and strengthened the city’s openness about spiritual matters. How is her influence still seen in the city?

McPherson’s extremely high profile in the 1920s and 30s allowed her to spread the word about Los Angeles as a center of often unconventional spirituality. Her unique combination of a positive and inclusive message with a heavy dose of arresting spectacle, including faith healing, speaking in tongues, dramatic illustrated sermons, and the like, became a powerful attraction for seekers of all kinds.

That legacy is preserved in the continuing relevance of the church she built–the Angelus Temple in the Echo Park neighborhood–and its outreach ministry, the Dream Center, which aids the city’s poor, homeless, addicted, and displaced. And the religion she founded, the Church of the Foursquare Gospel, now has over 6 million members worldwide.

During its early years, Los Angeles was in somewhat of a competition with San Francisco to become a leading and more influential American city, despite its location in the middle of a large desert. Why did L.A. win?

I wouldn’t say that San Francisco has really “lost” the competition, since it remains a hugely vital and influential city, but L.A. has outstripped it in size and, arguably, at least, in worldwide impact. It’s hard to say exactly why that happened, especially since San Francisco had such a long lead on L.A., developing as a city many decades earlier.

In a way, Los Angeles had to work harder. For instance, San Francisco had a superb natural harbor; L.A., on the other hand, had to undertake extensive improvements to make its harbor competitive. San Francisco had the enormous wealth created by the gold rush to jump-start its growth; L.A. had to figure out creative ways to bring investment and population to the city. So maybe it’s a matter of necessity being the mother of invention.

I’m a big fan of yours. do you already have a new writing project in the works?

I’m still in the early stages of research for the next project, but San Francisco attracts me as another, entirely different city whose history I’d like to explore. So maybe my trilogy of city narratives will become a quartet.

The Mirage Factory is Lemuria’s August 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction. Gary Krist will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Aug. 18 as a participant in the American History panel at 10:45 a.m. at the C-SPAN room in Old Supreme Court Room at the State Capitol.

Long Live Los Angeles: ‘The Mirage Factory’ by Gary Krist

by Andrew Hedglin

I fell in love with Gary Krist’s previous book, Empire of Sin: A Story of Jazz, Sex, Murder, and the Battle for Modern New Orleans, a couple of years ago when I was preparing for a short trip to the Big Easy. The next spring, I caught up on another of his books, City of Scoundrels: The 12 Days of Disaster That Gave Birth to a Modern Chicago.

mirage factoryI have come to the conclusion that Krist is the great pop urban historian of today. In lucid, well-researched prose, he tells not of great American city’s beginnings, but the genesis of the idea of that city–what each metropolis has to offer to the culture and popular imagination of this country. He returns this year with The Mirage Factory: Illusion, Imagination, and the Invention of Los Angeles.

More so than his previous two books, Krist structures The Mirage Factory around three seminal individuals. Each of these titans contributed to the incredible growth and out-sized influence of L.A that we know today. These three figures were William Mulholland, who built the Los Angeles Aqueduct, D.W. Griffith, who helped shaped the motion picture industry and directed its first (albeit highly problematic) blockbuster, and Aimee Semple McPherson, a wildly successful Pentecostal evangelist who helped establish the city as a place for alternative spiritual seeking.

L-R: Mulholland, Griffith, McPherson

L-R: Mulholland, Griffith, McPherson

My favorite sections were about the grit and glamour of nascent Hollywood, but McPherson also lived too interesting a life not to be magnetized by it. And while Mulholland’s sections might be the least enthralling, they are never dry, technical, or impossible to get through. Indeed, there is plenty of land intrigue such as that would inspire the story of Chinatown decades later. And the cataclysmic end to his career has to be experienced in full detail to be believed.

Los Angeles may not have the immediacy of New Orleans to those of us living in and around Jackson, but its story enthralls us because Los Angeles radiates an important portion the American dream: dreaming itself. The ability to remake your fortunes if you can only get there. After all, neither Mullholland, Griffith, nor McPherson was a native Angeleno. Mullholland and McPherson weren’t even from America.

At each turn, Krist emphasizes how these figures made what should not be possible, possible. Sometimes they accomplished this through illusion, such as in movies, or at great cost to those living around them, such as the aqueduct. But Krist is deft at reminding us of our country’s greatness, and the cost of that greatness. I myself thoroughly enjoyed my third trip into a bustling, alive American city at the dawn of the twentieth century with Krist as my guide.

The Mirage Factory is Lemuria’s August 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction. Gary Krist will appear at the Mississippi Book Festival Aug. 18 as a participant in the American History panel at 10:45 a.m. at the C-SPAN room in Old Supreme Court Room at the State Capitol.

Jon Meacham reviews national turmoil in ‘The Soul of America’

By Andy Taggart. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (July 1)

Already a Pulitzer Prize-winning and presidential biographer, Jon Meacham just made an important additional contribution to the civic and cultural health of the nation.

In The Soul of America: The Battle for Our Better Angels (Random House), Meacham reminds us that intense political turmoil and dissent are not new to the American scene, and however out of sorts might seem the body politic today, we’re going to come through it just fine.

More timely encouragement can hardly be imagined.

Meacham has made much in his prior best sellers and frequent public appearances of the power of the presidency, for good and for ill. And his keen grasp of American history spread large–he’s currently a distinguished visiting professor of history at Vanderbilt University–instructs his optimism and sense of humor even in the face of what he perceives as poor leadership and bad policy decisions.

Mississippians were the beneficiaries of his good cheer at the 2016 Mississippi Book Festival held at our State Capitol, and he will be returning in August for the 2018 edition.

His newest work is a review of major times of turmoil in the nation’s history, spanning about a generation per chapter. Not surprisingly, the Civil War and its antecedents, aftermath and legacy is his starting point, but what follows might be less familiar reminders of the nation’s resiliency in the face of painful periods of political enmity.

Did you know that a group of wealthy Wall Street players in the early 1930s tried to recruit a retired general from the U.S. Marines to stage a coup against FDR?

Or that the New York Assembly refused to seat five newly elected legislators because they were members of the Socialist Party?

Do you remember ever knowing that an anarchist tried to blow up the home of the attorney general of the United States, but succeeded instead only in blasting himself into little pieces all over the AG’s front yard?

Throughout, Meacham sounds the drumbeat of the soul of America, by which he means the “collection of convictions, dispositions and sensitivities that shape [our] character and inform [our] conduct.”

While it is clear from his writings and many of his allusions that Meacham is a man of personal faith, it is not a religious reference he intends when he writes of the nation’s soul. It is, rather, his conviction, and the witness of history, that there is an inner core that has made America into America and Americans into Americans.

Meacham frankly acknowledges and clearly documents the times that our core has responded to its dark side, when the nation as a body acted primarily out of fear, anger, and or even hatred. but he also revels in the many, and more frequent, examples of how the core–the soul–of America responded to our better angels and moved forward into improved human relations and quality of life, and devotion to causes higher than self-interest.

Often, he notes, significant steps toward the light have resulted directly from the nation’s revulsion at seeing itself at its darkest.

We conducted the affairs of our nation for a century after the signing of the Declaration of Independence as if it were not imprinted on our corporate soul that all men are created equal. To our shame, and as Meacham painfully reminds us, we conducted the affairs of our state for yet another century still ignoring that soul-stirring promise of our nation’s founding.

Now, at the beginning of our third century as a state, may the soul that Jon Meacham also reminds us has responded so often and in so many ways to our better angels be the one that marks our identity as Americans and as Mississippians. And what better way to start on the path of a new century than with a new state flag?

Andy Taggart is CEO of the law firm of Taggart, Rimes and Graham, PLLC in Ridgeland and co-author of Mississippi Politics: The Struggle for Power, 1976-2008 (University Press of Mississippi 2009). His public service has included roles as chief of staff to Gov. Kirk Fordice, president of the Madison County Board of Supervisors and the chairman of the Greater Jackson Chamber Partnership.

Author Q & A with Andrew Lawler

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (June 10)

Author and journalist Andrew Lawler admits that, from the beginning, he was warned.

Because he had grown up immersed in the story of the lost colony of Roanoke, he expected immunity to the possibility he would get “sucked in,” as a friend put it, to the mystery of what happened to the 115 men, women, and children who landed on Roanoke Island off the coast of what is now North Carolina, in 1587.

Although the settlers were on a mission to establish the first English colony in the New World, they disappeared without a trace while their leader was away on a six-month resupply trip that had stretched into three years. They left only one clue–a “secret token” carved on a tree.

The question of their fate still haunts historians and archaeologists, and Lawler’s own literal journey to examine the ominous expedition resulted in his new book, The Secret Token: Myth, Obsession, and the Search for the Lost Colony of Roanoke. What he found, he concludes, offers fresh understanding as to why this mystery is relevant in today’s America.

Lawler is also the author of Why Did the Chicken Cross the World? and is a contributing writer for Science magazine and a contributing editor for Archaeology magazine. His writing has appeared in The New York TimesThe Washington PostNational Geographic, and other publications.

When did you first develop an interest in the lost colony of Roanoke?

Let’s just say that I had no choice. As a child growing up in southeastern Virginia, not far from Jamestown, there was no escaping history. Figures like John Smith and Thomas Jefferson were regularly mentioned at the dinner table.

On our annual beach trip, my family went to the Outer Banks of North Carolina. This was back in the days when the only nightly entertainment was bingo and a dance hall. The third option was to see The Lost Colony, the three-plus-hour outdoor drama in the buggy woods of nearby Roanoke Island. We sat on hard wooden benches amid the mosquitoes as the organ blared, Indians danced, and sweating English soldiers marched around in breastplates.

It is one of the longest-running plays in American history, and it certainly seemed never-ending to me as a child. Written in the 1930s and performed ever since, it told teh story of the three voyages to the Outer Banks by the English in the 1580s, culminating in the arrival of the final group that today we call the “Lost Colonists.”

There was just enough action to keep a kid interested–plenty of sword fights, fireworks, and firearms going off. But what really fascinated me was the end, when all the settlers go marching off into the woods, hungry and ragged but singing bravely. Then it was our turn, as the audience filed out down the dark path to the parking lot. This was the very place where the Roanoke colonists vanished, and when I was small, that visceral quality of getting lost here struck me with terror. I was relieved to crawl into the back of the station wagon.

As a teenager, fascination replaced the terror. I devoured everything I could find about the colony, reading first-hand accounts and poring over John White’s beautiful watercolors of the Native Americans. But since there was no new evidence to solve the mystery, there seemed nothing fresh to say. Then a few years ago I ran into a British archaeologist while covering a conference at (The University of) Oxford for a magazine. When he told me that he was digging on Hatteras Island, I knew immediately what he was after. Then I found out another team was hard at work digging at another site where the colonists may have gone. Finally, there were new clues emerging. It was a chance to see a childhood mystery solved. Once again, I was hooked.

It seems, from some things mentioned in your book, that you took somewhat of a literary risk by writing The Secret Token. Did you ever doubt that you were doing the right thing?

Andrew Lawler

At first, I was plain embarrassed. I’d spent more than a decade covering the devastating cultural heritage tragedy still unfolding in the Middle East–the looting of the Iraq Museum, the Taliban efforts to wreck Afghan statues, and the ongoing destruction of ancient sites in Syria. Writing about a few dead Elizabethans seemed almost absurdly irrelevant. And when I brought up the “Lost Colony,” more than one historian smirked. It was all so wrapped up in cheesy pop culture, and most serious academics gave the entire episode a wide berth.

I thought I would just do a quick online story, but then it turned into a full-fledged magazine story. Then I realized that I was amassing so much material that it had to be a book. I’ve learned that when I have sinking feeling in my gut–the “Oh, no, anything but that” feeling, then I have hit on the story that I have to tell.

There are many theories about the fate of the English colonists who were never found. In your opinion, which one is the most outlandish? Most reasonable?

My personal favorite is that the colonists turned into zombies that are still out there in those spooky Roanoke woods. Alien abduction is another. Of course, there are can’t -be-proven theories–that they sailed away on their small ship and drowned. We know now that  a severe drought afflicted that time period, and some argued they starved to death. But when you look at later “lost” Europeans, most of them simply deserted to or were captured by Native Americans. As Benjamin Franklin noted, few wanted to return, even if they were taken by force. This was what I call colonial America’s dirty little secret.

So, it seems pretty obvious that if you are hungry and don’t know how to survive in a strange environment, you will find people who know what they are doing–and in this case, that was the local Native American population. Eastern North Carolina was filled with thousands of people who thrived in villages and towns, planting crops while also gathering plants and hunting animals. The English didn’t land in a wilderness. So, most historians who have studied the Roanoke voyages agree they did what most of us likely would do–hang out with the people who could make sure you were fed, kept warm, and protected from enemies. In return, they had skills the Indians wanted, like how to make metal implements.

You traveled to Portugal to research the life of the pilot Fernandes. What was the most important thing you learned on this trip, and did you travel to other places for research?

This was a crazy effort to track down a bizarre rumor. The private papers of the Roanoke navigator Simao Fernandes were said to have surfaced in Portugal. A couple of American historians had tried and failed to verify the story, which promised to rewrite our entire understanding of the voyages, and I couldn’t resist the challenge. After running around Portugal and Spain pursuing every lead, I came up empty-handed. But as was always the case with following what seemed a dead end in this tale, I stumbled into something unexpected and important.

In this case, I found that Fernandes was not the villain he was portrayed to be, and that, in fact, he was quite possibly the real mind behind the entire project. He knew and understood the emerging global economy better than any Englishman of his day. And since Roanoke laid the foundation for Jamestown and all other English efforts that followed, you could say this obscure Portuguese pirate played a central role in launching both the United States and the British Empire.

You wrote that “In a nation fractured by views on race, gender, and immigration, we are still struggling with what it means to be American.” Explain in what ways gender issues are tied to this story.

A woman writer named Eliza Lanesford Cushing coined the term “Lost Colony” and made Virginia Dare a folk sensation in the 1830s. This was a moment when women’s magazines first appeared, and women writers like Cushing finally had outlets for their work. But American history at that time was exclusively about men, Betsy Ross being the exception proving the rule. Women were portrayed as bit players in Jamestown and Plymouth when they appeared at all. Men got the credit for “taming the wilderness.”

All we know about Virginia Dare was her name and when she was born and baptized, but her status as the first English child born in the Americas gave women a stake in the origin story of the United States. The Virginia Dare stories, though almost wholly fabricated, became wildly popular among women in the 19th century. They finally could see themselves in the drama that led to the nation’s founding.

Is there any hard evidence that the English settlers “chose” to adopt the Native American lifestyle, as some have suggested?

If they wanted to live, the settlers had to become Native Americans. When Europeans first arrived on the North American coast, they didn’t have the skills to survive, even when their ships regularly brought supplies. They depended on trading their goods with the locals for food. Without the indigenous peoples, all the early European settlements almost certainly would have failed.

Finding hard evidence for Lost Colony assimilation, however, is tricky. If they became Native American, would Jamestown settlers 20 years later have recognized them? Probably not. There certainly are hints that when John White came back in 1590, three years after leaving for England to get supplies, he was watched by people–perhaps including assimilated Lost Colonists who dreaded boarding a cramped and stinking ship for a long passage back to gloomy and plague-ridden London. But I pieced together circumstantial bits of evidence to make a what I think is a compelling case that the Elizabethans became Algonquian speakers–and that their most likely descendants ended up in a most surprising place.

Why is the story of the Lost Colony relevant today?

There are moments in the life of our nation when what it means to be American becomes hotly contested. This was true in the 1830s, when an influx of German and Irish shook up the majority Anglo-Americans. Certainly, during and after the Civil War we differed on whether African Americans could or should be full citizens.

A century ago, we decided women should be able to vote, though at the same time we didn’t generally considers of Italians or Jews to be “white.” In each of these periods, the story of the Lost Colony served as a fable reflecting these tensions. So it is today, with groups like Vdare Foundation warning whites about the dangers of being outnumbered by non-European immigrants. So, I can’t think of a more relevant story in today’s climate.

Do you have ideas in the works for an upcoming book?

I’m drawn to the ancient tales that seem to define how we see the world today. Right now, I’m spending time in the Middle East exploring the source of religious tension there. Few places on Earth are so driven by old stories, particularly those that many see as God-given.

Andrew Lawler will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, June 13, to sign and read from The Secret TokenThe Secret Token is Lemuria’s July 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Author Q & A with Brian Castner

Interview by Jana Hoops. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (April 15)

For a man who never intended to be a writer and admits that he “stumbled into it,” Brian Castner’s work has landed on solid footing thus far.

disappointment riverHis newest book, Disappointment River: Finding and Losing the Northwest Passage, follows his own bold journey to retrace a 1789 expedition whose leader had hoped would finally unlock a North American passage to Asia–and change world trade forever.

Castner’s original goal of becoming an engineer got sidetracked years ago, and after a successful Air Force career that found him detonating bombs on a regular basis, the Iraq War veteran returned home to find that writing would become his tool to work through lingering stress from his military years.

His previous books include the memoir The Long Walk in 2012 (a New York Times Editor’s Pick that was adapted into an opera); and the nonfiction All the Ways We Kill and Die in 2016. His journalism and essays have appeared in Esquire, Wired, VICE, the New York Times, the Washington Post, The Atlantic, and others.

How did your engineering background lead you, in a roundabout way, into your writing career?

Brian Castner

Brian Castner

I grew up in Buffalo, New York, went to Marquette University in Milwaukee, and majored in electrical engineering. I was never a good engineer, though. I got good grades, but I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t think like other engineers. But the engineering degree was a means to an end, because I had an ROTC scholarship, and wanted to get into the Air Force to be an astronaut. I’ve always wanted to explore–the further out, the better! Obviously, that didn’t work out, but writing has let me travel the world.

I’ve always liked to read, and as a kid I wrote a lot, in middle school and high school. Even in college, I tried to escape engineering a bit, and studied a semester in Oxford, reading philosophy, history, and English. I even took a playwriting class. But I never considered a career in writing. I didn’t think it was a job that contemporary adults really did. I didn’t know any authors until I became one. I stumbled into it.

You served three tours of duty in the Middle East, working as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal officer (a bomb squad tech) in the Air Force and winning a Bronze Star. When you returned home, you spent a good while readjusting to civilian life, and fed your adventurous side by working as a river guide. When you decided to retrace Alexander Mackenzie’s 1,100-mile exploration in 1789 of a river he hoped would finally uncover the “Northwest Passage” in northern Canada, how did your family (your wife and four sons) react, and why was it so important to you to make this dangerous journey?

I did struggle returning home, a story I tell in The Long Walk. River guiding really helped me find peace in the tumult–when you are in the middle of the rapid, you have to be totally present, to think about nothing but your line–that is, your safest path through the water–and the water itself. I have a calm feeling in the whitewater and it gave me a safe way to chill out and readjust to home life.

For this trip, I don’t have a good answer to what drove me. I find it to be an urge, a base instinct. I had always wanted to take a long journey like this, walking or canoeing, months in the wilderness. When I came upon Mackenzie’s story, I was entranced by the narrative, but also by the possibility of taking the journey myself, to write a better book. It fulfilled a long-held desire, and that it was Mackenzie’s journey I was retracing is a matter of scholarly research and serendipity.

A few of my four sons wanted to come with me; my wife put the kibosh on that. I also invited her along, for at least a section, but she smartly demurred. They know me, know why this trip excited me. And the good news is that as I get older, the fernweh [wanderlust] seems to be fading. At least a bit.

Disappointment River alternates between the detailed stories of your journey and that of Alexander Mackenzie, a fur trader who knew that his success in finding a Northwest Passage–a trade route through North America that would provide a direct channel to the East–would not only secure his place in history, but would ensure his fortune as well. Why did you decide to tell both stories?

Because these are the kinds of stories I most like to read, a blending of forgotten history and travelogue. But also, one story didn’t make sense without the other. On the one hand, I’ve had enough internal voyages of discovery. I didn’t need to take a long canoe trip to find myself. I needed an external goal and finish line, and retracing Mackenzie’s path provided that. At the same time, if I just told Mackenzie’s story, I think most readers would have an obvious question: I wonder what this land is like now? That Mackenzie encountered fierce pack ice at the end of his journey, and I suspected I would find open ocean, lent another bit of symmetry to the trip.

On your own journey, you worked out a plan that allowed four of your friends to jump in and accompany you, one at a time, via small airports along the way. Their travel schedules dictated that you were allowed little time to rest along the way. Tell me how having these friends join you–and the schedule you were forced to keep–influenced your trip.

As I write in the book, I had no interest in doing a psychological experiment on myself, to see if I could do the trip by myself; it was always about finding the right people to go with me. At first, I hoped to get one friend to do the whole trip, but no one had the time. Doing four friends, and rotating the flights, was a matter of necessity. I think it had benefits in the book, though–a variety of characters for the reader to get to know.

The tight schedule did produce some anxiety, but…pretty early on in the trip, you realize how small and powerless you are against the might of the river. So, I worried before the trip, but during it, you simply make the best time you can and realize how much is out of your control. The cold, wet, heat, thunderstorms, bugs, and hunger drove us as much as a schedule. I wanted to finish the trip, succeed, and get home to my kids.

In the book, you speak often of the difficulties you faced–several serious run-ins with storms and high winds, high waves, and, at times, even hunger. You often mentioned the stress, exertion, filth, heat, and mosquitoes–and how it took a toll on your mind and body. Did you expect it to be this difficult? Of what were you most fearful? What did you miss the most?

I expected it to be physically taxing, and I knew how to patiently endure the weather and hunger. But I wasn’t good at predicting how mentally challenging the monotony was. I didn’t know I would be so bored, for such long stretches–the view never changing, the sun never changing, the food never changing, nothing more to talk about, just paddling through a constant now. That tedium was the biggest challenge.

My biggest fear was not bears or weather or waves, honestly. It was getting injured or sick. I had a big med kit with a lot of drugs, like cipro, but fortunately, I never needed it.

I missed a lot of things on the river, especially my kids. But all the modern conveniences, the thing I missed most was darkness. The ability to draw the blinds and make a dark bedroom. It felt so good to sleep in darkness.

As you traveled north, you were able to get a sense of the cultures and lives of the people in these tiny villages. What did you discover about their hopes and fears?

I had read a lot on the struggles in northern indigenous Canada: poverty, alcoholism, suicide. But I was unprepared for the reality of it, the casual public intoxication at all hours, the pervasive want. Of course, I met wonderful generous people, who took me into their homes and told me stories of living on the land in the traditional way. But they talked about the alcohol and poverty, too, all the time. I didn’t have to bring it up–there is no way to avoid it. There is just a pervasive hopelessness–the traditional ways are hard. Please rid yourself of any romance now–living off the land is hard and dangerous work, a hard life. No wonder the young people are not clamoring to take it up, not when they know all about modern life on satellite TV. But what replaces it, in these tiny villages in the North? The pipeline? Tourism? There is not much answer now.

For reasons I’ll let readers discover, Mackenzie believed for the rest of his life that his voyage to find the Northwest Passage was a “spectacular failure”–but he could never know the truth. His book about it became a worldwide bestseller, and he received much affirmation. What do you think his greatest achievement was?

I think his greatest…achievement is that he never lost a man or woman on his expeditions. This was hardly an assured thing. Voyagers died in the rapids all the time. Attack by the indigenous tribes was a real threat–the next expedition to follow Mackenzie down his river, in 1799, was ambushed and wiped out. John Franklin followed Mackenzie’s route in 1819, and his party resorted to cannibalism. Despite the hazards of the whitewater, violence, and starvation, not a single person died on his great journeys in 1789 and 1793. In retrospect, that is remarkable.

What did this experience help you learn about yourself? Would you do it again?

After this trip, I feel like I have nothing left to prove. Even to myself. Maybe especially to myself. That might sound funny, since I have survived other crucibles that are supposed to impart that feeling–in EOD school, 30 of us started and only three finished. But I had never taken a long wilderness journey like this before. And I feel like I’m good now–if I never hike the Appalachian Trail, I’m fine.

I wouldn’t do a trip like this again, not without my wife and some of my children. There is nothing hiding behind the next spruce tree that is more important than them.

Do you have another book or idea in thew works at this time?

I have started my next book, and it will be published again by Doubleday. But I hesitate to say too much, lest the ideas and inspiration slip away into the ether. I can say this, though: it is nonfiction, history, a story of the North, and I do have to take a backpacking trip into the mountains. Yes, my sons go, too!

Disappointment River is a 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Canoeist creates part history, part travel memoir in ‘Disappointment River’

By Boyce Upholt. Special to the Clarion-Ledger Sunday print edition (March 25)

disappointment riverThe modern explorer has to live with a simple truth: there is nowhere left that has not already been observed. Though that disappointment can also be a gift.
In 2016, the writer Brian Castner canoed the length of the Mackenzie River, the longest in Canada. He was—quite intentionally—following in the footsteps of the river’s namesake, Alexander Mackenzie.

In 1789, the Scottish explorer traveled its length in search of the fabled Northwest Passage. I’ve read about Mackenzie before, but somehow no image of the man and his history has ever stuck. In Canada, meanwhile, Mackenzie is a minor national figure, the namesake for not just the river, but schools and towns.

A few years after his river quest, Mackenzie successfully crossed North America east to west, beating Lewis and Clark by more than a decade. (The American explorers carried a copy of Mackenzie’s book as a guide.)

The result of Castner’s trip is Disappointment River: Finding and Losing the Northwest Passage, a rollicking read that, in alternating chapters, sets the writer’s adventures against Mackenzie’s expedition.

The remarkable geography of that river—which, like Castner, I will henceforth call the Deh Cho, in deference to the indigenous people who knew it long before Mackenzie’s “discovery”—are reason enough to read this book.

The Deh Cho, the thirteenth-longest river in the world, is the northern answer to the Mississippi, and drains a basin almost nearly as large. Wide and turbid, it winds past mountains, through tundra, across vast Arctic swamps. Inuit and Dene villages hug its shores.

For most of us, I have to think, this river is terra incognita. It’s rarely mentioned in the news, and impossible to observe on Google Street View. As Castner puts it, it’s “a place you have to see in person if you want to see at all.”

But Castner’s words are the next best thing, and they will be a delight to any armchair explorer. Frankly, I found the river more compelling than Mackenzie himself. Castner spends nearly half of the book getting us up to speed on the explorer—his youth, his rise in the fur trade, etc.—and it’s all well-told and useful.

But it’s something of a relief when Mackenzie finally embarks on the Deh Cho; now Castner can, too. His taut descriptions of his travel are by far the book’s highlight.
But both stories are necessary, as the book’s strongest message is delivered in its comparisons. Mackenzie, at the mouth of Deh Cho, found a wall of impenetrable ice. Thanks to a changing climate, Castner finds none at all. The river’s wildness persists, but today it’s pockmarked with gritty towns devoted to extracting oil and metals from the earth.

Mackenzie wouldn’t blink these such developments. He was, in Castner’s words, “the product of an age”: explorers in his era weren’t seeking wilderness adventure; discovery, for them, was a way to drag commerce and capitalism forward in the world.

Castner, meanwhile, knows he’s discovering nothing, except maybe himself. But that humility is freeing. Every acre of land on this continent has been known to someone, and for thousands of years. The only story left for explorers is the one most worth telling: why and how a place so vibrant can be overlooked by so much of the world.

Boyce Upholt is a freelance writer based in the Mississippi Delta. He is at work on a nonfiction book about the Mississippi River, and a novel about the aftermath of the Lewis and Clark expedition.

Brian Castner will be at Lemuria on Wednesday, March 28, at 5:00 to sign and read from Disappointment River. This book is a 2018 selection for our First Editions Club for Nonfiction.

Francophile Friday: History and Nonfiction

By Annerin Long

Bonjour! The Alliance Française de Jackson (AFJ) is back for another Francophile Friday during le Mois de la francophonie, with more book recommendations from our members. This week’s selections are a mix of history and memoirs, including a book for French-speakers by one of our own members.

you will not have my hateOn November 13, 2015, the world watched in horror as terrorists attacked Parisians going about life at football matches, concerts, dinners, time spent with friends and family. Journalist Antoine Leiris lived another horror that night: turning on the news and seeing that the Bataclan Club, where his wife was attending a concert, had been attacked. In You Will Not Have My Hate, Leiris recounts the hours and days immediately after the attack, confirming that his wife was one of those killed, handling the duties related to her death, but also the day-to-day life that continued with their infant son. You Will Not Have My Hate is a short, powerful book, sometimes difficult to read because of the subject, but also heartbreaking, and one that I read in just a little more than one sitting.

A favorite book of AFJ member Jeanne Cook is Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s memoir Wind, Sand and Stars. The stories from his life that he tells in this collection also serve as a frame for his commentary on broader themes of human life.

Marcel Pagnol’s My Father’s Glory and My Mother’s Castle are two more recommendations from Mrs. Cook. Pagnol was an author and filmmaker (the first filmmaker elected to the Académie française) and is generally considered to be one of France’s greatest 20th century writers. These two books are the first two in his four-book series Souvenirs d’enfance (Memories of Childhood), capturing his days growing up in Provence.

paris under waterA few years ago, AFJ was fortunate to host Memphis historian for a program based on his book, Paris Under Water: How the City of Light Survived the Great Flood of 1910. This is especially relevant as Paris is only a few weeks removed from flooding in several areas of the city this past winter. Paris Under Water details not just how the flood happened and crippled the city, but also how the people of Paris came together, often forgetting class distinctions that would have normally separated them, to help each other and to rebuild their city.

Finally, for today’s selections, I want to mention a book that is not about the history of France in the way we usually think of it, but rather, the history of the French here in the United States, including Mississippi. Recontres sur le Mississippi, 1682-1763, is actually a French-language reader developed for classroom use and written by AFJ member Gail Buzhardt with Margaret Hawthorne. While written with classroom use in mind, anyone who speaks or reads French and is interested in learning more about this part of our country’s history will find the book to be a great resource.

Be sure to visit Lemuria Books for many of these titles or help with ordering.

Other Recommendations

About the Alliance Française de Jackson
The Alliance Française de Jackson is a non-profit organization with the mission of promoting French language and culture in the Metro Jackson area. This is done through language classes and other educational programs, cultural programming, and special events centered around French celebrations. Many of our members speak French, but it is not a requirement, and we welcome all who love the language and cultures of the Francophone world.

Francophile Friday: World War II History

By Annerin Long

Hundreds of volumes exist covering various aspects of World War II in France alone, and when Alliance Française de Jackson members were asked about favorite history books, the majority of them were on this subject. For Francophile Friday this week, Jeanne Cook and I are sharing some of our top recommendations on France in World War II.

marcels lettersAs a Francophile graphic designer who spends most of her reading time studying World War II, Marcel’s Letters: A Font and the Search for One Man’s Fate by Carolyn Porter was a must-read. Porter–also a graphic designer–bought some old letters at an antique store for inspiration, but as she worked on the new font, became more and more curious about the man–Marcel Heuzé–who had sent the letters from Germany to his home in France during the war years. Her book tells the story of not just developing another font, but also the search to learn more about Heuzé and his fate from a German workcamp.

avenue of spiesAvenue of Spies: A True Story of Terror, Espionage, and One American Family’s Heroic Resistance in Nazi-Occupied Paris (Alex Kershaw) is about the life of American physician Sumner Jackson, his Swiss wife, and their son on Avenue Foch, one of the grand streets of Paris where many Nazi officials lived and worked during the occupation. Even with Gestapo headquarters also on this street, the Jacksons bravely became involved with the French resistance. Kershaw’s sources included the Jacksons’ son, Phillip, and his writing often had me on the edge of my seat, wondering how close the family was to being discovered.

Jeanne Cook, AFJ’s director of education, includes Is Paris Burning? (Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre) and Wine and War: The French, the Nazis, and the Battle for France’s Greatest Treasure (Don and Petie Kladstrup) among her recommendations for books on France during World War II.

Is Paris Burning? reads like a spy novel and is filled with suspense that makes this non-fiction book one that can hardly be put down. It focuses on Nazi-occupied Paris and Hitler’s general in control of Paris, Choltitz, who is given the order to burn Paris as German troops flee as Allied forces approach. The New York Times called it “a great story. . . dramatic, exciting, pitiful and intensely human.”

For books specifically related to D-Day, Mrs. Cook recommends D-Day: D-Day through French Eyes: Normandy 1944, by Mary Louise Roberts, 2014. This book provides an insight from the French perspective. Highly readable and in English, Roberts narrates events in Normandy through her historian’s eye and intersperses notes, letters, and journal accounts of events with many of the sources from the Mémorial de Caen archives. Her book provides the needed puzzle piece to better understand D-Day events: it answers “What were the Normans experiencing?” Her chapters address parachutists, friendships, cathedrals, and devastation from bombings.

Finally, she suggests Neptune: The Allied Invasion of Europe and the D-Day Landings, Craig L. Symonds (2014). This book, called a “masterpiece,” explores the planning, including the landings and the supply system, which became a part of the Overlord invasion of D-Day. The plan was code-named Neptune.

Whatever your interest in World War II reading, be sure to check out Lemuria’s extensive history section (my favorite section in the store) for a wide selection of books an all aspects of the war.

Other recommendations:

The Alliance Française de Jackson is a non-profit organization that promotes French language and culture and welcomes all with an interest in the Francophone world.

Up to Code: ‘Code Girls’ by Liza Mundy

code girlsThe Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1945. The United States was caught virtually unawares,  in a nearly two decade season of disarmament. The U.S. military had sparse forces, and few spies abroad. There was an immediate and urgent need for code breakers to decipher enemy message systems.

The U.S. Navy and Army began to send out secret letters to universities, seeking high achieving young women to be taught training courses in code breaking. The women were summoned to secret meetings, and sworn to secrecy. They came from all different backgrounds, but all bright, hardworking, and eager to serve their country.

Liza Mundy in Code Girls highlights the contributions of such experts in the field as William and Elizabeth Friedman and Agnes Driscoll, as well as those of the many women that labored day to day to recreate enemy enciphering machines.

Wars, by those who fight them, say they should never occur. They hold atrocities that can be too much for the human soul to bear. Yet, in the ugliest and most terrifying of times, unrecognized human potential can be found. The code breakers of World War II fought in classified rooms, instead of the battlefield, but they fought with everything they had, and discovered previously unknown strengths and abilities. They served quietly and humbly, virtually unappreciated to this day. They were great American Women, they were the Code Girls.

Author Liza Mundy will be at Lemuria Books today, Friday, December 8, at 5:00 p.m. to sign and read from Code Girls.

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