The issue is not whether my blog
readers would want to read Ron Chernow's book, the issue is whether
the reader should be forewarned about the immensely disturbing power
of the book. Many readers may prefer a peaceful, solace-ridden tome
to relax with. This book makes the reader furious at the calumny of
Jefferson, Madison and Monroe, but most of all Thomas Jefferson.
The reader of Chernow's book is burdened, on every page, by the realization that the greatest mind and most potent force in the creation of the United States has had his contribution to our modern world stolen from us. I know our early history, as conventionally taught, and this book was like a blinding laser light in a heavy-drape darkened room.
A reader is also faced with a
recognition of one's own mortality and the power of a great
biographer, such as Ron Chernow, to give our most important labors
and contributions a meaningful context in the history of our time.
Chernow knows history, he understands management and administration
as almost no other historians ever have, and he could be considered
the first policy wonk of early America.
What Chernow misses, as a person, is a complex sex life. Consequently, Chernow is unable to understand and convey the power of Hamilton's one incredible and deeply destructive passion for Maria Reynolds. This kind of passion is so powerful and so unexpected when it happens that few men who have experienced it can doubt its power to generate male pattern blindness.
This is one of a few dozen books that go on the main shelf of my library.