Average Reviews:
(More customer reviews)I should have known better. The last book I read that had a title, subtitle, and sub-subtitle confused me and that seems to have happened again. Morrow offers three titles, labels, or come ons: "The best years of their lives," "Learning the secrets of power," and "Kennedy, Johnson and Nixon in 1948." I'm still not sure which one is the `real' title. The three concepts each had promise. These are three American icons, both loved and despised. The year - 1948 - happened to be a pivotal year, not just for these three, but also for the rest of America. The hot war was cold, and the cold was getting hot, and the Baby Boom was booming. Opportunity and optimism seemed unlimited, especially to young, power hungry politicians like Nixon, Johnson and Kennedy.
The disappointment I felt was that none of the promises implied in the three labels for the book earned much attention from the author. Morrow tells us more about Whittaker Chambers and Alger Hiss than Richard Nixon, about George Smathers and Joe Kennedy than Jack Kennedy, and Coke Stevenson and Lady Bird rather than Lyndon Johnson. If these three presidents of the future learned any secrets of power in 1948, the secrets remain undiscovered by me. Maybe I'm not reading well enough into the analysis. Morrow waxes poetic about eerie parallels in lives, like Lana Turner and Richard Nixon, notes the impact of all the dead, diseased and disturbed relatives and their effects on the three main characters, and offers an encyclopedia of armchair psychoanalysis and cultural sidebars, mixing religion, crucifixion complexes, politics, Hollywood, and Albert Kinsey. Theories, not secrets.
It is not even clear how -if at all - that 1948 was the best year of each man's life. The attempt to link these three lives to the Hollywood film reminded me that 1948 was the best year of "our" lives, so I guess all Americans had a pretty good year in 1948, especially war veterans. But Johnson was not much of a veteran (Johnson's Silver Star makes John Kerry's Purple Hearts look like Medals of Honor) and Kennedy, well Morrow acknowledges that the PT-109 story was more of a court martial offense than the makings of a heroic legend. Even Nixon was more of a Mr. Roberts than any battle-scarred veteran. These men had more to be embarrassed about than proud when it comes to war service, but politics makes legends out of molehills and Morrow provides us with three moles. Morrow's tangential summary description of the role, character and accomplishments of George Marshall makes these three men look like the three blind mice.
Reading on, looking for integration or even a consistent narrative, the pages slipped away, leaving me scratching my head. When a 300-page book has only four chapters, maybe that should have been a sign. The stories jump all around, often into Jack Kennedy's sex life and his coarse way of rationalizing his need for sex, and Morrow seems to obsess about dark secrets, homosexuality, suicide, drunkenness and bankruptcy. These may be secrets a lot of people would like to keep a secret, but they don't tell me anything about "the secrets of power."
Stephen Ambrose (Nixon), Thomas Reeves (Kennedy) and Robert Caro (Johnson) are much better chroniclers of the more complete, factual, historic versions of the lives of thee important figures, including 1948.
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