by William Manchester ‧ RELEASE DATE: Sept. 17, 1980
We couldn't, thinks ex-Marine Sergeant Manchester, take Tarawa again (or Guadalcanal or Iwo Jima or Okinawa): today's young wouldn't plod "patiently on and on"—chest-deep in water, weapons over their heads, keeping formation"—while their comrades were keeling over on all sides." That isn't the only message of Manchester's return, in memory and in person, to Pacific battlegrounds, but it's the one that forces a yea or nay from the reader—while one can easily remain indifferent to (even skeptical of) Manchester's personal quest for the reason he left a hospital bed, before Okinawa, to rejoin his men: it was—climax-of-book—"an act of love." The entire reconnaissance, he says, was touched off by the appearance in his dreams of his young, tough, uncompromising self reproaching his present "portly, Brooks-Brothered" mid-fifties self: "what had happened in the third of a century since he had laid down his arms?" We then back up to the distinguished Manchester lineage; his (wounded) Marine veteran father and Old-Southern mother; his timid, picked-on childhood; his auspicious start at Amherst; his early enlistment in the Marines, love of rugged Parris Island, hatred of competitive Quantico OCS (he wittingly washed out); his hookup with the "military misfits"—most of them "liberal arts majors from old eastern colleges"—whose sergeant he was slated to be; and his two pre-embarkation attempts to lose his virginity (both aborted—one in party by "my outsize genitalia"—and neither quite credible). Also worked into the foregoing are the attack on Pearl Harbor, the loss of the Philippines, and the Herculean securing of New Guinea—which brings the Pacific War, and Manchester's unit, to Guadalcanal. And whatever one thinks of both stories-so-far (or of the coupling—a kind of personalized pop history), the subsequent chronicle of debilitating jungle warfare on one after another "dumb island" (as a fed-up Marine put it) has an undeniable impact—not because the botched landing at Tarawa, for instance, is news, but because time has diminished neither the horror nor Manchester's outrage. At first, too, his reference to the Japanese as "Japs" or "Nips" rankles; and one recoils when he writes, early on, "thank God for the atomic bomb." But his description of Japanese tactics—first the suicide attacks, then the suicidal last stands—demonstrates why he's still appalled at the prospect of storming mainland Japan. Similarly, what he finds on these islands now is of varying interest or noteworthiness (the native culture corrupted; Japanese tourists and/or businessmen) until he reaches Saipan, where Allied forces first encountered Japanese civilians; at the island's fall, all 18,000 hurled themselves off two cliffs . . . and their bodies are still being recovered and cremated, so the ashes can be returned to Japan. The eventual death of most of Manchester's men on Okinawa's Sugar Loaf is more immediate but not more unnerving. And his farewell to his Sergeant-self—atop today's built-over Sugar-Loaf—seems if anything a cheapening artifice. As for the upright, moral, industrious pre-WW II America that he deems responsible for his generation's sacrifice, it will not be recognized by many of his contemporaries ("Mothers were beloved, fathers obeyed"; "To accept unemployment compensation, had it existed, would have been considered humiliating"); and to Americans of any age, it might appear a misguided ideal. But one can dissent from much of this and still be shaken.
Pub Date: Sept. 17, 1980
ISBN: 0316501115
Page Count: 416
Publisher: N/A
Review Posted Online: Jan. 4, 2013
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 1980
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by William Manchester and Paul Reid
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BOOK REVIEW
by Paul Kalanithi ‧ RELEASE DATE: Jan. 19, 2016
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
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A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
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PERSPECTIVES
by Chris Gardner with Quincy Troupe ‧ RELEASE DATE: June 1, 2006
Well-told and admonitory.
Young-rags-to-mature-riches memoir by broker and motivational speaker Gardner.
Born and raised in the Milwaukee ghetto, the author pulled himself up from considerable disadvantage. He was fatherless, and his adored mother wasn’t always around; once, as a child, he spied her at a family funeral accompanied by a prison guard. When beautiful, evanescent Moms was there, Chris also had to deal with Freddie “I ain’t your goddamn daddy!” Triplett, one of the meanest stepfathers in recent literature. Chris did “the dozens” with the homies, boosted a bit and in the course of youthful adventure was raped. His heroes were Miles Davis, James Brown and Muhammad Ali. Meanwhile, at the behest of Moms, he developed a fondness for reading. He joined the Navy and became a medic (preparing badass Marines for proctology), and a proficient lab technician. Moving up in San Francisco, married and then divorced, he sold medical supplies. He was recruited as a trainee at Dean Witter just around the time he became a homeless single father. All his belongings in a shopping cart, Gardner sometimes slept with his young son at the office (apparently undiscovered by the night cleaning crew). The two also frequently bedded down in a public restroom. After Gardner’s talents were finally appreciated by the firm of Bear Stearns, his American Dream became real. He got the cool duds, hot car and fine ladies so coveted from afar back in the day. He even had a meeting with Nelson Mandela. Through it all, he remained a prideful parent. His own no-daddy blues are gone now.
Well-told and admonitory.Pub Date: June 1, 2006
ISBN: 0-06-074486-3
Page Count: 320
Publisher: Amistad/HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2006
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