Dear Doris Kearns Goodwin

I haven’t been tending my blog because I’ve had my nose in a book.

Dear Doris Kearns Goodwin, 

Thank you for writing the book “Team of Rivals” It was a masterful study of Lincoln’s political and personal life that caused me to eagerly turn the pages, laugh out loud on occasion and even though I knew the eventual outcome, (come on, do I really need a *spoiler alert* here?) I cried at your portrayal of his heartbreaking death. I can only imagine the amount of research...

I’ve never written a letter to an author of a book, but if I were going to write such a letter, it would probably be to Doris Kearns Goodwin and it would probably start something like that.

“You know, everyone has different taste buds, Gagi.” And Mol, let me tell you, never are those taste bud differences more pronounced than the reading tastes of your Grampy and me. We practically never read the same books. He prefers non-fiction, like history books and biographies, but will read a good mystery now and then. I prefer fiction, even science fiction, to most non-fiction. Every now and then I suggest to him a book I think he’ll like. Sometimes he reads them, sometimes not. Take “Water for Elephants.” Upon closing the book after the last sentence I handed it to him and said, “Here. I think you’ll like this book.” He read it and thoroughly enjoyed it. (smile)

We both own Kindle-type readers and have separate libraries of  e-books. Occasionally, we share these e-books. I have this vague recall of my husband carping about the price of the “Team of Rivals” paperback and the e-book versions being identical and my husband saying something like, “Well, if they can’t give me a break on the e-book, I might as well buy the actual book.” That sounds like how he might reason it out anyway.

Long before he finished Doris Kearns Goodwin’s “Team of Rivals” he said, more than once, “You know, you just might like this book.” He handed it over when finished. It’s quite a tome for a paperbound book, weighing in at hefty 2.25 pounds, with 750 pages of the actual book and an additional 150 pages of footnotes, notes and indices. So, it was a couple of weeks before we left on a 800+ mile journey that I decided to tackle the book. As I was nearing the middle of the book, I said, “I think I’ll take the book with me and if I finish it in time, I can give it to one of the kids.” My husband reached for the book and clutched it to his chest. “No. No, I want to keep it.”
“Honestly, babe, how cheap can you be? I want to give it to one of our children to read. We can always ask for it back.”
“Okay, I guess,” he acquiesced.
“Oh, never mind,” I said. “I won’t bring it along and I won’t be tempted to give it away.”

Having finished the book I understand how he felt. I don’t want to part with the book either. In fact, I now hold this book to be sacred, sacred like a preacher holds the bible in his hand and considers it to be sacred; sacred, like a farmer looks at his earth and holds it to be sacred; sacred the way some couples consider their marriage vows to be sacred.... ( ;-) I stole borrowed that bit from the late Sam Kinison) Seriously now, I treasure this book. I am thinking I may buy a hardcover copy and give our paperback version away, (don’t you love how I now consider it ‘our’ book?) but not until I have that hardcover safe in my clutches. And I will write a second letter, a letter to my husband thanking him for recommending this book. That will be after I apologize to him for calling him a cheapskate for not wanting to give away his book.

Have you ever read a book where, when you find yourself nearing the end, you slow down your reading because you have a dread of the book ending? I savored every bit of the last chapters. The book is such a beautifully crafted account of an amazing man and if, like me, you think you already know all you need to know about Abraham Lincoln, I promise you that you’d be wrong. Kearns doesn’t just string dusty facts together, but carefully cards the fibers, then spins and weaves them into a beautiful, colorful cloth that portrays a person of impeccable decency and integrity, with a total lack of vindictiveness, and possessing a single-minded mission to preserve the union and its original principles. And I love the subtitle on her book, “The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln,” for a genius indeed was he.

Ulysses S. Grant said of Abraham Lincoln, “He was incontestably the greatest man I ever knew.” If you want to meet this man, Doris Kearns Goodwin’s book will bring him to life for you. But, let me warn you, you may then, like me, feel a profound loss when you lose that good friend. :-(