Reading Edward Rothstein’s sour commentary on Studs Terkel in the New York Times on November 2 I was surprised that Rothstein, presumably a sophisticated thinker, seems to believe one can separate one’s political views from a historical narrative, even from oral history.

“It is, in fact, impossible to separate Mr. Terkel’s political vision from the contours of his oral history,” he wrote.

It turns out that Rothstein is not complaining about Studs’s intrusion of his “political vision” into his oral histories. I doubt, knowing Studs pretty well, that he would deny that. Indeed, I suspect he would embrace it.

Would he be proud of attempting (yes, attempting, because it cannot really be done) to be a neutral conduit of his interviewees’ thoughts?

No, what Rothstein resents is the specific character of this intrusion— that is, Studs’s political beliefs.

On Studs’s oral history: “You grow cautious as you keep reading,” Rothstein wrote. I’m inclined to think that Rothstein did not “grow” cautious, but that he started out being cautious, on the alert for radical ideas, or worse, anything that might suggest Marxism.

Rothstein is disappointed in Studs, because “he seemed to be a scrappy liberal … but look more closely and it becomes less clear where his liberalism slips into radicalism.”

Rothstein is evidently a proud liberal, possibly scrappy. I suspect Terkel, were he still alive, would have approved what Norman Mailer wrote once to Playboy magazine: “I don’t care if people call me a radical, a rebel, a red, a revolutionary, an outsider, an
outlaw, a Bolshevik, an anarchist, a nihilist, or even a left conservative, but please don’t ever call me a liberal.”

Rothstein gives examples of Studs’s “radicalism.” These are positions, which are so reasonable that they would give a good name to “radicalism,” just as McCain’s worry that Obama is “socialist” because he wants to redistribute wealth divests socialism of its worst connotations and makes it quite attractive.

For instance, Rothstein objects to Terkel comparing FDR’s reaction to the Depression to Reagan’s reaction to economic distress, wherein Terkel says that FDR “recognized a need and lent a hand” while Reagan “lends a smile.

Rothstein doesn’t like the quote marks around Studs’s “The Good War” because “the emphasis, again and again, is on World War II’s shadows and injustices.”

But would any reasonable—yes, “balanced”— assessment of that war not emphasize (precisely because that has been missing in the general romanticization of the “good war”) the “shadows and injustices”: Dresden, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, the imprisonment of Japanese-Americans, the segregation in the armed forces?

Rothstein finds that “nearly every one of the positions approvingly intimated by him seem to fit models shaped by Marxist theory.”

Should we be alarmed?

I can understand why J.Edgar Hoover would be alarmed. But someone as well educated as Edward Rothstein?

Looking at the state of the world, observing capitalism self-destruct to the point where even the Wall Street Journal questions its viability, it would seem that it may be time to take a second look at “models shaped by Marxist theory.”

“The difficulty is for readers who presume they are being presented history without perspective, just a series of oral histories,” Rothstein writes.

Is Rothstein one of those readers? Does he believe, does anyone believe, who has given some thought to the myth of “objective” history, that one can present history “without perspective”?

Indeed, would that be desirable? Do we want from history, even oral history, to be “just” a series of statements that suggest no perspective?

Rothstein worries that with Studs’s oral histories “one is no longer sure what is being omitted and how much is being fully seen.” Surely, he must understand – unless he possesses a naiveté we would never suspect in a New York Times writer – that one is never sure what is being omitted, and therefore we must always look beyond the words set before us.

And no phenomenon is “fully seen” so we try to see as much as we can, and add to the universe of knowledge, as Studs Terkel did so brilliantly, our little piece of truth.

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By Wendell Berry

Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head.
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. 
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.


Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns.
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion—put your ear
close, and hear the faint chattering
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child?
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth? 
Go with your love to the fields.
Lie easy in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn’t go. Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

Wendell Berry is a poet, farmer, and environmentalist in Kentucky. This poem, first published in 1973, is reprinted by permission of the author and appears in his “New Collected Poems” (Counterpoint).


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