Americans Aren’t Supposed to Write Anything this Good
I have almost finished listening to The Winds of War – and wondering what to say about it. In a flash, it came to me – and I made it the title of this posting. Which I am writing from my bedroom/office with an Internet connection/dining room/living room in Costa Rica.
In the book, Hitler has died, Roosevelt has died, and Truman is President. It spends some time explaining how Mid-Western he was – quite a contrast to FDR, who was an Eastern Sophisticate.
He came from Independence, Missouri – which happens to also be the headquarters of my family’s religion. Which faded in the Fifties, as Truman also faded from sight.
It has taken me fifty years to begin to understand what happened then – in that far-away time – when so many bad things happened.
They have been called the Great Generation (because they won WWII) when they should be called something far less flattering – perhaps the Custodians of the Final Collapse.
Here we sit, among the ruins. If you want to understand what caused these ruins (although few do) – this book can tell you a lot about it.
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