The Forgotten Man
THE “FORGOTTEN MAN” IS AN UNFORGETTABLE BOOK—ONE THAT I URGE YOU TO READ
by
Ken Eliasberg
I love the study of history, particularly when it’s conveyed by someone who really has a grasp of his (or, in this case, her) subject matter. I have just read one of the best books that I have ever read (and I’m a voracious reader). The book is entitled the Forgotten Man: A New History of the Great Depression, and the author, a woman of transcendent brilliance (and, in so describing her, I may be selling her short), is Amity Shlaes. The book is a revisiting of the period preceding and including the great depression—one of the most important economic periods in our history, and the defining period in terms of where we find ourselves today, i.e. with a looming welfare state. Lest you think I am alone in my assessment of Ms. Shlaes’ skills, permit me to quote from a review by Steven F. Hayward (another author whom I enjoy) in the July 30th issue of National Review:
“This new book is the finest history of the Great Depression ever written. Hold on—this is supposed to be a review, not a dust-jacket blurb, but it can’t be helped. Although there are several fine revisionist works about the Great Depression and the New Deal, Shlaes’s achievment stands out for the devastating effect of its understated prose and for its wide sweep of characters and themes. It deserves to become the preeminent revisionist history for general readers.”
Normally, I would say that’s almost a bit over the top; I have read few books that justify this sort of extravagant praise. However, in this case, Mr Hayward has, if anything, understated the case. The Forgotten Man is, quite simply, history at its best. Through Ms. Shlaes’s effort you are not left to just study history; rather, you are given the opportunity to experience it. In her hands, and through her efforts, you are transported back to that very important and lively period in our history. Indeed, it can reasonably be argued that no period has played a greater role in giving what may prove to be permanent shape to America’s evolution. As I read this marvelous piece of literature (just calling it history doesn’t do it justice—that’s how absorbing it is), for the first time in my life (in the case of nonfiction) I felt like I was actually being introduced to the characters that played such a vital role in this epic period.
Ms. Shlae’s sees FDR as impulsive, mercurial, almost whimsical in dealing with the troubled times over which he presided. His policies often seemed as changeable as the weather and almost as predictable; it was as if he was guided by some alien force, in addition to a battery of bright, but not always effective, consultants drawn from various walks of life (many from the professoriate—the beginning of our over reliance on people from the academy—people who frequently studied life more than they lived it). Many of these had gone to Russia to observe the great experiment that followed the Bolshevik revolution and were greatly affected by their experience there. But it was Roosevelt who called the shots, even when he appeared to have little command of either the subject matter or the appropriate course of action. FDR was a triumph of personality and politics over policy. Indeed, his personality was his politics, and, because it was such a winning personality and the times so turbulent, he was able to seek, and was given, an inordinate amount of power—power which, on many occasions, he used inappropriately, thereby both prolonging and deepening the great depression (the DOW, one of the 2 economic indicators on which Ms. Shlaes places great reliance—the other the unemployment figures—did not regain its 1929 position until the early