Honest Abe Lincoln, in Brief and in the Bedroom

David Herbert Donald, the highly esteemed historian and author of 1995's Pulitzer Prize winning Lincoln, has fallen victim to that grim disorder that so often strikes Harvard's demigod professors. It's a disorder that most recently befell Fletcher University Professor Cornell R. West '74, with his Cornell West Reader. The disorder: over-inflated ego combined with tremendously juicy publishing deal.

Symptomatic of the disorder is Donald's latest contribution to the heavily burdened shelves of Lincoln histories. Lincoln at Home is an interesting twist on the Lincoln story, giving us a glimpse into the life Honest Abe and his insane wife, Mary, lived when Lincoln actually occupied the Lincoln bedroom.

Were Lincoln at Home not merely the length of a chapter in one of Donald's previous endeavors, it might be easier to view what he's compiled as worthy of tremendous respect. Yet as the work stands, with 32 pages of continuous text in 18 point font followed by 55 pages of reprinted, often sentence long-letters, Donald has written a chapter, picked out some primary texts for those interested readers, and has called it a book. His historical novella, then, should meet with some harsh criticism, given the little history Donald actually interprets. In exchange for a abridged, personal history of Lincoln's life, Donald has lost the careful, insightful analysis for which he best known.

Yet from a purely practical standpoint, Donald has written the perfect short history of Lincoln for the Harvard student with no time on his hands and a penchant for random tidbits of American history. For late-night drunken trivial pursuit games or simple juice-box facts style knowledge, Lincoln at Home is absolutely a masterpiece.

Donald regales tales of Lincoln's home life Professor William Gienapp never quite gets to in his behemoth Civil War Core. Some jewels the book includes are tales of Lincoln's young children, Willie and Tad, and their goats, Nanko and Nonnie, who all apparently spent a bit too much time in the East room.

Donald also gives us yet another reason to be proud of the Harvard name: Robert Lincoln, the eldest Lincoln son, was like so many others, an Exeter-Harvard boy. He might have even been considered a good catch, being quite handsome.

Imelda Marcos also returns in Donald's short history. This time, her name is Mary Todd Lincoln, and her obsession with shopping can be directly linked to the death of her son, Tad. Shoes, however, weren't Mary's thing; at one point, she bought 400 pairs of gloves in three months. Donald's history of Mary Lincoln's growing insanity during the White House years is stronger than his history of Lincoln himself, but then again, it's always more fun to read about someone going insane than someone slaving over letters and military decisions.

Donald does give us some interesting tidbits about Lincoln, such as his virtual anorexia. For lunch, Lincoln often had just an apple and a glass of milk before returning to his desk and lost a good 40 pounds during the first few months of 1863.

Yet just as the details become interesting, especially leading up to the infamous trip to Ford Theater, Donald loses us. He gets caught up attempting to disprove that Lincoln was interested in all things psychic and ghost-related, as is so often rumored. Donald could have a great closing, yet instead, he sounds like he's trying to refute an argument some critic made about his last Lincoln book.

The last 55 pages might as well be ignored. The letters seem to be an endless reconfiguration of the same few lines, with Honest Abe saying, "Mary, I miss you, how are you?" to Mary's, "I'm fine, the kids are great, send me money." However, the letters do reveal that Lincoln was more than the foreboding man in a top-hat who won the war, but a gawky, insecure guy who cared a whole lot about his family.

Lincoln trivia awaits, especially with Lincoln at Home serving especially as a perfect cure to a guilt-laden Harvard kid who crammed for the Civil War final, subsequently forgot everything, and feels guilty about it. Real historians have every right to be disappointed in the work's brevity, but it's a godsend for anyone who wants a short read and craves history that flows more like gossip. And regardless of past History B pain, the book is a short enough read to justify it as an investment in the impress-people-at-dinner store of knowledge.

LINCOLN AT HOME

by

David Herbert Donald

Simon and Schuster

114 pp., $30

by

David Herbert Donald

Simon and Schuster

114 pp., $30