Category Archives: Biographies

Emma Goldman: Revolution as a Way of Life by Vivian Gornick (Yale Univ. Press)

Emma GoldmanI’ve read about Emma Goldman in passing and wanted to read more about this feisty anarchist, “Red Emma,” a woman reviled, jailed, and ultimately deported from the U.S. in 1919. Vivian Gornick’s compact biography, Emma Goldman: Revolution as a Way of Life, is part of the terrific Yale Univ. Press’s Jewish Lives Series.

Goldman was born in Lithuania in 1869 and came to Rochester, New York as a teenager to live with her older sister; the rest of the family joined her a year later. She was desperate to accomplish something, to change the world, and was galvanized by the Haymarket Affair, a workers’ protest in Chicago that was disrupted by an anarchist’s bomb. It was a defining moment in U.S. labor history and she wanted to be part of it.

Goldman, too volatile and rebellious for her family, left home with her sewing machine and a few dollars, headed for New York City’s Lower East Side, where she found radicals of every stripe meeting in the cafes. The very first day, she met her soulmate, Alexander Berkman, the first in a series of lovers, mentors, and partners. She became a fiery, riveting speaker, traveling around the country talking about worker injustice.

Gornick gives us the outline of the life Goldman led in service to the anarchist movement, but what’s so fascinating about this biography is the insight Gornick offers into Goldman’s motivations and personality. Unlike most biographers, Gornick is right there with the reader, commenting on Goldman’s behavior, adding asides, and digging, digging, digging into who Goldman was, why she acted as she did; all the messy contradictions of her life (and loves). The energy of Gornick’s writing is terrific; a great match for Goldman’s single-minded drive to change the world.

Fierce AttachmentsIn conjunction with Goldman’s bio, I read Gornick’s own memoir Fierce Attachments, probably for the third time. Each time I read it, I’m hooked again, drawn into her childhood world and tangled relationship with her mother. It’s a feminist classic for good reasons, but also a startling evocation of the conflicted, haunting relationships we have with our childhood influences.

A Spy Among Friends: Kim Philby and the Great Betrayal by Ben Macintyre (Crown)

A Spy AmPhilbyong Friends is a great book to listen to (the reader is John Lee); it’s the story of the famous “third man,” Cold War era spy Kim Philby, who, along with Donald Maclean and Guy Burgess (and several others), were Soviet spies in the British intelligence system, working in MI5, MI6, or the foreign service. Philby, who became a Communist at Cambridge, never wavered in his faith in Communism from the 1930s to his death in Moscow in 1988 after his defection.

Philby served in high positions in MI6 and was for a while chief intelligence officer in the British Embassy in Washington, DC where he maintained a close friendship with James Angleton of the CIA. Although Maclean and Burgess defected in the 1951 and the British intelligence service knew there were additional double agents, Philby’s treachery wasn’t discovered until 1962. Philby had the right background, attended the right schools, had the right connections; everyone vouched for him automatically. For decades he passed details of British intelligence operations to his Soviet contacts. A huge black mark for the British intelligence community.

 

 

Heir Apparent

Heir ApparentI’m hoping to read more European history this  year and have just finished The Heir Apparent: A Life of Edward VII the Playboy Prince by Jane Ridley, the new bio of  Queen Victoria’s philandering son, who gave his name to the Edwardian era, the first decade of the 1900s.

It’s a huge book, and my thought was that I’d start reading and maybe not finish it, but I was riveted. Ridley has the wonderful facility of making masses of detail fascinating. She’s also managed to let you know that she’s there with you as you’re reading without really interposing herself.

There’s a cast of hundreds, since Bertie had a wildly active social life, and the reader can only turn the pages in disbelief as “Wales” (as he’s often known) gets into one scrape after another, rescued and shielded by his loyal staff. Even the Prime Ministers protected Bertie from disgrace. I was unaware how much anti-royal sentiment there was in Britain of the late 1800s; Queen Victoria wasn’t sure that the monarchy would survive her and it’s not clear that she cared. She didn’t believe that Bertie would make a suitable king and he never received the appropriate education and training. She was unwilling to relinquish an iota of power or monarchical privilege to him and was jealous of any success he had with the British public or overseas.

But when Victoria died in 1901  he rose to the occasion, although he regretted that the great opportunity came so late in life. Part of the fun of the book is re-visiting the convoluted relationships among the royals in Europe and Russia–so many were Victoria’s descendants and it affected late 19th and early 20th century politics in very interesting ways. For more about those relationships, I recommend reading King, Kaiser, Tsar by Catrine Clay.

Margaret Fuller: A New American Life by Megan Marshall

Margaret FullerI just read this biography for my nonfiction book club and we had such a great discussion—one of our most memorable. Only a few of us had known about Fuller beforehand and one of our burning questions at the end of the evening was why she isn’t better known.

Fuller was associated with the Transcendentalist movement and was closest with Emerson from that group, but also William Ellery Channing, Thoreau, and Hawthorne. Fuller’s father, a frustrated Intellectual if there ever was one, tutored her in Latin and Greek as a young child, and taught her how to think on her feet and express herself in well-reasoned arguments. Equipped with such an unusual education for a woman of the time, and craving intellectual companionship, she was fit only for the company of her equals, all of whom were male. They acknowledged that she was often the smartest person in the room, but didn’t know what to make of her—women in the 1840s just didn’t behave the way she did, full of confidence in her own abilities. She had an on-again-off-again intense friendship with Emerson–was he jealous of her abilities or was he just unable to sustain close relationships?

Margaret was often deeply unhappy with a life of such apparently limited opportunities but always came back to the belief that she was mistress of her own destiny and forged on. She was a terrific writer, often prescient about social and political issues in the U.S.; there were many quotes in the book that stopped us in our tracks for their timeliness. Horace Greeley (bless him!) hired her to write a cultural column in the New York Tribune; it ran on the front page and was often her sole source of income. She eventually traveled to Europe where she became good friends with Mazzini, who was spearheading the Italian independence movement; she married an Italian soldier and had a child. The end is sad—she died at an early age, along with her husband and child when their boat sank off Fire Island on their return voyage to the U.S.

What would her life have been like on her return? Her family and peers would certainly have felt that she married below her station—would they have accepted her barely literate Italian husband? The organizers of the 1848 Seneca Falls Convention were eager to have her there to address the delegates; unfortunately her death prevented that, but they recognized her importance to the fledgling suffrage movement. Maybe she would have found acceptance and a new cause there. We’d like to think so; she deserves to be a heroine.

I’ve only scratched the surface here in describing this excellent biography. You may find the book a little slow at the beginning as Marshall describes Fuller’s early years, but that’s not to criticize the writing. We need the description of Fuller’s sad and lonely childhood to understand where she came from; once she’s out on her own, by her mid-teens, it’s a riveting narrative.