Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Another summer over < sigh >

It was one of the better ones, too, with a dream-like cruise along the Danube River, a brief but eye-opening stint teaching high school kids at Columbia, and all my girls home, cheerful and mostly getting along. But soccer season is already under way and summer homework almost dispensed with so while I’d have liked this comfortable hum of a break to go on a bit longer, school starts tomorrow. 


Which is my cue to return to the writing desk. In summer I write less and give myself over more to writers like Sarah Vowell, whose Assassination Vacation (Simon & Schuster, 2005) is the book I’ll remember best from the last three months. A gift from my friend Richie (influenced, I believe, by my favorite bookseller, Margot Sage-El), I’m embarrassed that it sat untouched for an age, until I grabbed it to fill time during my commutes to the city. Wow, do I regret waiting! This is how I want to write nonfiction: confidently with a firm grasp on human nature as well as the past, which, in this appealing pilgrimage, Vowell conveys with affection, mischief and wit.


I’ll be brief as praise for Assassination is plentiful. Moreover, by writing here I’m not making headway on my (nonfiction) thesis. The short review is this: Vowell deputizes the reader to go with her on a series of excursions to sites around the country where she enthusiastically acquaints herself with John Wilkes Booth, Charles Guiteau and Leon Czolgosz, the assassins of Presidents Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley, respectively. She brings along relatives and friends who, as characters in her story, help to animate tired historic homes and other quite inanimate objects that show up often in her narrative and inspire lively—often comical—digressions. (Vowell loves plaques and statues.)


Vowell’s eagerness to have us draw the same “look how much things haven’t changed” connections she does is infectious. And she endeared herself to me with an assortment of modern and not-so-modern references, including (but far from limited to) the Broadway musical 1776, the website MapQuest, the Jimmy Buffet song “Margaritaville,” the architect Louis Sullivan, and Archie comic characters Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge—not to mention the obvious: early 21st century American politics. 


Vowell’s writing voice is one of a kind. So is her speaking voice, which she parlayed into a gig moonlighting as a voiceover artist. She discusses that experience, in tandem with writing Assassination, in a video essay, called “Vowellet”. 



Serious history buffs might find Sarah Vowell too flip, but I’d caution the skeptic not to snap judge. She gives tragic moments in American history their due but assumes we know the highlights. It’s the epilogues, colorful asides, and off-the-beaten path discoveries Vowell shares that drive her unorthodox travelogue. Also receiving their due are the docents, tour guides and experts who, unlike the historic figures they declaim, live on Vowell’s pages: earnest, quirky, myopic, passionate and detail-driven folk who’ve dedicated a significant portion of their lives, if not their livelihoods, to making history accessible. Vowell’s Assassination Vacation picks up from there, leading us past a few more bends in the road.