The Bancroft pantheon

Tuesday, March 30th, 2010

Virtually every great American historian of the postwar era has received the Bancroft Prize. The 2010 Bancroft Prizes have just been announced, and the winners are:

• Linda Gordon for her Dorothea Lange: A Life Beyond Limits, about the celebrated Depression-era photographer;

• Woody Holton for his portrait of American’s second first lady, Abigail Adams; and

• Margaret D. Jacobs for White Mother to a Dark Race: Settler Colonialism, Maternalism, and the Removal of Indigenous Children in the American West and Australia, 1880-1940.

Past winners of the coveted Bancroft are a veritable pantheon. They include Alan Nevins, Page Smtih, William E Leuchtenberg, Bernard Bailyn, Carl Degler, Eugene D. Genovese, Robert Dallek, Sean Wilentz, Paul Starr, Eric Foner, Drew Gilpin Faust, Edmund S. Morgan, Samuel Eliot Morison, Stanley Elkins, David Levering Lewis, Walter LaFeber, Bernard de Voto, C. Vann Woodward, Paul Horgan, and Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr.

You may, of course, find most of their works at the Library.

The Loneliness of the long distance researcher

Monday, March 29th, 2010

Today’s guest blogger, biographer Veronica Buckley, will be at the Library on Wednesday, March 31 at 19h30 to speak about her new book The Secret Wife of Louis XIV, Francoise d’Aubigné, Madame de Maintenon. Read a rave review from the New York Times.

Can a building shrink?

I don’t remember exactly when I first set eyes on the palace of Versailles, but I do remember wondering how the ministers of the grand siècle ever found their way to their desks. Perhaps they laid scents, I thought, and let the King’s retired hunting dogs lead the way. On the other hand, if the dogs were old, how many of them would have been able to make it from one end to the other, day in day out? The place was unreconnoitrably vast.

But the human brain is a curious thing. Versailles had been the home of the subject of my new book, The Secret Wife of Louis XIV, and I was bound to get to know the various nooks and crannies that had played a part in her story. So I returned to Versailles time and time again, and each time I went, working out what had happened where and fitting everything together, I found it mysteriously smaller than the last time I had been there.

Eventually, with the palace mapped, so to speak, I began work on the grounds, quietly hoping for a similar Alice in Wonderland trick. To save time, I had bought a facsimile of the Sun King’s own Manière de montrer les jardins de Versailles, signed and dated 19 July 1689, six o’clock in the evening – Louis was a punctual man – but even so, it took me several visits to encompass the formal gardens, with their hundreds of lovely sculptures and the many concealing bosquets of lovers’ trysts long past, and beyond these spread the park, and further again, the huge domaine, a forest once full of game for a king passionately fond of hunting, and still forbiddingly dense and dark. I’m not an adventurous type, more ham sandwich than wild boar, so I was prepared to take the forest on trust and, fortified with a thermos flask of hot chocolate, confine myself to the park.

Following my guide, I had planned a first three-hour walk, dutifully skirting the enticing eighteenth-century areas to ensure the required seventeenth-century overview. I should have known better. Historical things are never that clear-cut. One period runs into the next, and in any case, how could I resist the Trianons and make-believe farms that I had almost to myself, since it was January, when all sensible people are sitting comfortably at home in the warmth. I was well wrapped up, but as I turned back into what had seemed to be a shortcut, my boots and mittens and borrowed arctic jacket suddenly weren’t enough. The wind had come up, the clouds had turned black, and the wintry sun had disappeared completely. Fat raindrops plopped down on me, promising a grim slog back, bizarrely twice as far, according to the guide, as I had come on the outward trek.

But through the bushes, a weak light winked at me. I gave a shout, and soon was hitching a ride on a little electric cart, the modern version of the Sun King’s own thoughtfully provided ‘rolling chairs upholstered in damask’ for his gouty park visitors. My rescuers weren’t gout sufferers, just friendly golf enthusiasts from Phoenix, excited to be caught in the rain.

Golfers always know the way back to the pavilion. I stood spouting profuse thanks as a grumpy steward, tired of waiting, locked up the little cart, with the two Arizonans waving a cheery goodbye to us both. And I turned towards the palace gates, reflecting that if a building can shrink, a garden can surely grow…

–Veronica Buckley 

 

‘Picturing America’ at the Library

Friday, March 26th, 2010

The work of American artists Childe Hassam,hassam Richard Diebenkorn, John Singleton Copley, Dorothea Lange, John J. Audubon (born near Nantes), and Jacob Lawrence are on display at the Library now.

These handsome reproductions were created by the U.S. National Endowment for the Arts “Picturing America” series of American masterworks for use in schools. The American Library was fortunate to receive a set. We’ll be rotating the images periodically.

The rotation succeeds recently-displayed works by John Singer Sargent, Thomas Hart Benton, Mary Cassatt, and Walker Evans. Circulation manager Ed Aguila did not want to lose the photograph of Frank Lloyd Wright’s signature house, Fallingwater, at the checkout desk, so it remains.

The Paris book fair

Friday, March 26th, 2010

The annual Salon du Livre at the Porte de Versailles, this one celebrating the last 30 years (the first salon was held in 1980), opens today and runs through Wednesday at the Porte de Versailles. Among 90-some authors, French and otherwise, due to make appearances are Paul Auster, Umberto Eco, and Salman Rushdie.

The major French dailies have issued their usual supplements on the occasion of the Salon, taking stock of French literature and publishing in a climate of crisis and highlighting the hopeful and distinctive offerings of the day. Le Monde’s is especially serious and comprehensive. A Nous Paris, for its part, explains briefly why the e-book, all the rage across the Atlantic, is not likely to offer much French-language content any time soon: “French publishers are not ready to relinquish their titles to platforms that they believe are too tightly controlled by the manufacturers [of e-books].”

Dial elsewhere for murder

Thursday, March 25th, 2010

“Will the American thriller go the way of the American automobile?” asks Alexander Narazyan Detective-with-smoke-flippedin The Daily Beast.   “Is it possible that the entire Anglo-American world offers too narrow a scope? That even the work of whiskey-swilling private eyes has been outsourced? In one word, yes.

He explains:  “This past winter, I read four genre novels of the thriller/suspense/crime variety. Two were American, two were from abroad. They further confirmed my suspicion that good things are happening. They’re just happening elsewhere or yesteryear.”

Check them out

Wednesday, March 24th, 2010

What do these great writers have in common? Marcel Proust, Philip Larkin, Anne Tyler, Jorge Luis Borges, Madeleine l’Engle, Lewis Carroll, Archibald MacLeish, Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Berger, Angus Wilson….  Answer: At one time in their lives they were librarians.  Whoda thunkit. The online bookseller Abe Books.com selects the top ten books by librarians.

Keeping the cake

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

Today’s guest blogger, Paula Butturini, will present her memoir, Keeping the Feast: One Couple’s Story of Love, Food and Healing in Italy, at the Library tomorrow, March 24 at 19h30.   

After nearly a month back in the U.S. — speaking in bookstores and libraries about my memoir, Keeping the Feast — I learned that a surprising number of people seem to be in search of just the right recipe for a good, moist, chocolate cake. The book talks a fair amount about birthdays, not just real birthdays, but the new ones people sometime receive, unwittingly, when their life changes in a dramatic way. Because I describe at some length in the book the chocolate cake of my childhood, every time I spoke there seemed to be at least one or two people asking me for, or rather demanding — often forcefully — the recipe for my maternal aunt’s chocolate cake. As it’s not something I regularly carry around with me, I couldn’t comply.

So here it is, the recipe my mother’s sister, and my mother’s mother, Jennie, used to make for all the birthdays of my childhood, and which I still make at least once or twice a year no matter where I’m living. That means hand carrying a few ingredients across the Atlantic occasionally, a small chore I’ve come to enjoy over the last nearly 30 years.

I never seem to have the cake flour called for in the recipe, but I’ve found that if I measure two cups of regular flour and remove 4 level tablespoons from it, everything comes out fine. I usually use unsweetened Baker’s chocolate from the United States, but any good unsweetened chocolate works fine. As a child, my family always made this cake with fresh milk soured with white vinegar. Buttermilk works just as well, though you don’t have the fun of watching the vinegar go to work to coagulate the milk. If all the ingredients are at room temperature, the cake seems to taste better. I use a pair of battered metal cake pans, which seem to cool down quicker than glass ones, and keep the cake from drying out. I only wish I had thought to ask my aunt from whom she got this recipe, but it never occurred to me until after her death.

Auntie’s Chocolate Birthday Cake

1 cup boiling water
4 ounces unsweetened baking chocolate, cut into small pieces
2 cups cake flour
2 cups sugar
½ teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
½ cup soft butter
½ cup buttermilk or ½ cup fresh milk soured with a half-teaspoon white vinegar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 large eggs

Heat oven to 350 degrees F. Grease two round 8-inch cake tins with butter, then flour them. Set aside. Stir boiling water and chocolate together till chocolate melts. Cool. Blend flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Stir into chocolate mixture. Add butter. Beat one minute on medium speed of electric mixer or 150 vigorous hand strokes. Scrape sides and bottom of bowl constantly so that everything is well mixed. Then add milk, vanilla and eggs. Beat one more minute. Pour into prepared cake tins. Bake 35 minutes at most, so the cake stays very moist. You can test it with a wooden toothpick if you like. I start checking it after about 25 minutes because our old oven runs hot. Let cool in cake pans set on a rack for 10 minutes, then remove from pans and let continue to cool. Frost with Jennie’s White Icing, below.

Jennie’s White Icing for Chocolate Birthday Cake

2 ½ heaping tablespoons flour
½ cup milk
½  cup Crisco or other vegetable shortening (but not butter or margarine)
½ cup regular sugar
¼ teaspoon salt
1  ½ cups powdered sugar
Grated coconut

Into the flour, gradually blend the milk, stirring very well with a whisk so that there are no lumps. Cook to a very thick paste, stirring constantly, over low heat. Cool to lukewarm. Meanwhile cream the Crisco with the regular sugar and the salt. Add the flour/milk paste. Beat with electric beater till very fluffy. Then stir in the vanilla. Finally, add the powdered sugar and beat till well incorporated. Frost the cake ONLY after the cake had totally cooled. Sprinkle fresh or packaged grated coconut on top of the frosting and between the layers.

Please note: These days I only add about ¾ cup powdered sugar to the frosting, after my daughter let me know that her French school friends were scraping it off the cake every year because they thought it was too sweet. French kids love desserts, but they’re accustomed to a lot less sugar then American kids; that’s proof positive that you learn to like whatever it is you’re fed as a child. So, avoiding sugar from the beginning of a child’s life makes sense on many levels. But my daughter’s French friends really prefer the cake served plain, or with a simple sprinkling of powdered sugar.

–Paula Butturini

Chiseled in stone?

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

Proclaiming that Moses himself was a revisionist, Christopher Hitchens offers a new and improved version of the Ten Commandments. As the Bible offers “three or four wildly different scriptural versions…. we are fully entitled to consider them as a work in progress.”

Making graven images of the Lord: “This appears to forbid representational art … It certainly seems to discourage Christian iconography, with its crucifixes, and statues of virgins and saints.”

Honoring thy mother and father?  “By all means respect for the elders, but why is there nothing to forbid child abuse? … Even in a long and exhaustive list of prohibitions, parental sadism or neglect is never once condemned. Memo to Sinai: rectify this omission.”

Adultery: “Most criminal codes have long given up the attempt to make it a punishable offense in law: its rewards and punishments are carefully administered by its practitioners and victims. It perhaps does not deserve to be classed with murder or theft or perjury.”

Coveting a neighbor’s house, or wife, or ox…. “This is the first but not the last introduction in the Bible of the totalitarian concept of ‘thought crime.’”

“In short: Do not swallow your moral code in tablet form.”  It’s on Vanity Fair’s website, along with a link to a droll  video of Hitchens performing the critique.

Solace at the table

Sunday, March 21st, 2010

Paula Butturini, who will be speaking about her new memoir Wednesday evening at the Library, got a powerful rave in the New York Times Book Review this morning. Reviewer Mika Brzezinski says “ ‘Keeping the Feast’ shares with  Julie Powell’s ‘Julie & Julia’ and Elizabeth Gilbert’s ‘Eat, Pray, Love’  the insight that food can jump-start a journey toward solace.”

As Brzezinski summarizes it, “The joy of cooking was certainly the salve that soothed the emotional wounds that the journalist  Paula Butturini endured as she and her husband [John Tagliabue of the New York Times] suffered bullets, police beatings and a battle with depression that almost tore their marriage apart. Butturini tells her story through the lens of food — its restorative powers and its capacity to trigger the brain to remember and hope in times of tragedy and challenge.”

Reality bites

Saturday, March 20th, 2010

Non-fiction gets no respect as literature. And it should.  “The genre emits a whiff of the déclassé, served (especially in literature departments) with a garnish of condescension.The problem starts with the word: Like ‘childless’ (why not ‘child-free’?), ‘nonfiction’ packs a lot of social judgment. Nonfiction may be real, but in matters of creativity, it’s not quite the real thing.” So writes Rob Nixon in an argumentative review in The Chronicle of Higher Education.

“Given the choice between reading a middling novel and a middling work of nonfiction, the latter wins every time, offering at least some compensatory lode of information. … Two zesty, ambitious, polemical new books—Ben Yagoda’s Memoir: A History (Riverhead) and David Shields’s Reality Hunger: A Manifesto (Knopf)—signal that nonfiction is pushing for greater scholarly respect. Are we witnessing the beginnings of a palace revolution, as reality genres — literature’s foot soldiers — start clamoring to have their creativity treated with the seriousness it deserves?”

Read this invigorating essay, ‘Literature for Real.” Then read the Yagoda and Shields books (the Library has them on order). Then read more non-fiction. Might it not be better named: “fancy-free’?