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A Terrific Work of Fiction
Quite Moving
An Excellent Read!

Required reading?by a discouraged Freshman
The Dust of Lincoln
Very Fine Little Study

a perversion of the historical fiction genre
Evocative, but not Gripping EnoughThe action begins as D.W. Griffith is premiering his 1916 movie "Birth of a Nation" in Washington, D.C. where he arranges a meeting with the aged Surratt, who has long kept silent about his role in Lincoln's death. Griffith, a publicity hound, would like to get Surratt on film sharing reminiscences and photographs of the Civil War. For Griffith, Surratt is pure gold: a chance to further claim the spotlight and publicize his film.
But Surratt is torn, having lived most of his adult life anonymously after the tragic events surrounding Lincoln's assassination. Through his diary, we learn exactly how he was drawn into the conspiracy in 1864, and the tale takes some exciting and even grotesque turns before reaching its predictable conclusion in 1916.
Character development is not Robertson's strength and the book is filled with stick figures, including Surratt's own as an ingenuous young man. More importantly, until near the end, Booth himself is pretty much an enigma in the book. Though he is supposed to be charismatic, Robertson hasn't demonstrated that by giving us a rich, living character.
The author's skills as a writer lie elsewhere: He brings to teeming and fascinating life a Washington DC (Washington City in the book) as distant to us in its own way as Ancient Rome. It's a city with a half-finished Washington Monument and a Capitol dome under construction. A city where a traffic jam is caused by troops in transit colliding with cattle being driven to market; where the smell of produce and corpses mingles; where officers (but not their troops) enjoy nudie tableaux vivants in grimy saloons.
Since the beginning of the war, Washington City has been flooded with prostitutes who offer momentary forgetfulness of the horrors of war, and with mediums who offer contact with the dead. "In the midst of so much death, shipped from the battlefields by the Union army in the tens of thousands each year.... and the daily arrival in the city of so many distraught family members and spouses desperate for contact with a loved one, these people made a very good living." There's a dramatic and intriguing scene of a medium being unmasked as a fraud here.
The novel's most gripping sequence is a trip to the nearby battlefront in Virginia to photograph Confederate dead. Most fascinating of all, Robertson brings us in on the contemporary craze for portrait photography that reaches even into the White House. We learn a great deal about the mid-century art and science of working with a camera indoors and in the open air. By taking some clever liberties with the historical record, he makes photography central to his story. Booth is unexpectedly full of evocative details and insights into what the craze meant and how it changed Americans. Lev Raphael, author of LITTLE MISS EVIL, the 4th Nick Hoffman mystery (www.levraphael.com)
An entertaining curiosityThe novel opens with Surratt's 1916 New York Times obituary and then shows us diary entries he had written a few days before. In his initial entry, Surratt reveals that he has been plucked from shipping-clerk obscurity by none other than D.W. Griffith, who wants to put the reminiscences of the long-forgotten historical figure on film for an epilogue to his new movie, "The Birth of a Nation." He considers Griffith's proposal: "Perhaps," he writes, "it was time to tell the full truth about the Lincoln assassination." And with that, the septuagenarian opens up his diaries from the fateful months of 1864-65, offering up the observations and narrations of his younger self.
At 21, already a failed playwright, Surratt has just landed a job as a photographer's assistant that both affords him gainful employment and helps him avoid the draft. It was a strong recommendation by his friend Booth (one of the country's most popular actors) that got him the position, and, as he finds out, the favor comes with strings attached. According to Robertson's somewhat defensive five-page essay on his sources, Surratt wasn't actually a photographer, but the author's invention is welcome -- it enlivens both the novel and Surratt's character and allows for some remarkable bits about the Civil War photographer's art: the metal rack that painfully hol! ds subjects' heads and bodies still; the delicate glass-and-chemical work to produce photographic plates; and "the bane of the photographers' art" -- the light-absorbing fabric called bombazine. Surratt's boss complains that "with the fashion in ladies' dress, a pretty maiden of twenty who comes to my studio in her best bombazine outfit becomes . . . a fleshy blob of a face swimming in an inky darkness."
The truly fascinating element of the novel, though, is the relationship between Booth and Surratt, who is torn between obligation and independence, struggling for control over "Booth's presence in my life." Robertson's Surratt is a reluctant cipher, a humorless man searching for a cause; it's all too easy to fall under Booth's sway. He's aware of this influence, disturbed by it, fights it. He frets about his place in Booth's shadow even as his friend worries that "he is not the great man onstage" that his father, Junius Booth, was. At times Surratt reflects upon "how lucky I was to be able to call a man like John Wilkes Booth my friend." But he's fully aware that Booth is a "subtle manipulator and egotist"; even as he marvels at his friend's generosity, "I couldn't help wondering what Booth wanted."
It turns out that what Booth wants is help with a wild scheme: He intends to kidnap President Lincoln as a prisoner of war, to stop all the killing; his primary concern is that the Union army is bent on humiliating the South. His safety compromised, Surratt turns against his friend: "Booth has reduced my life to comical farce, and a low bumbling comedy. . . . I fear he is a loose cannon, and sure to get me killed -- and over something about which I am utterly disagreed with him on. Why did I ever think Booth was my friend? How can I now disassociate myself from him?" He tries to disentangle himself, deciding that "with the return of peace I will back away from Booth, and turn once again to my own hopes, my own future." But, of course, eventually it's too late, and Booth commits "the one act that would write! my name forever in the history books, and, I prayed, make the South whole again."
This last bit is from Booth's diary, written during his flight after Lincoln's murder. Booth's entries are by turns contemplative and thrilling -- and, considering the harried circumstances of their writing, a little too glossy to seem genuine. Indeed, both diaries read more like meticulously edited historical fiction than contemporary journals. They're far too nuanced and accomplished, laced with italicized flashback phrases and artful foreshadowing. The entries conclude with teasing cliffhangers. There are no missteps, no unsurety, no spontaneity. They don't *sound* right. Surratt's recollection of even throwaway dialogue is too pitch-perfect to be real, as when Booth tells a colleague: "Lewis, there is also a sideboard at the bar with pickled eggs, oysters, and beefsteaks for sandwiches. . . . You must get yourself something to eat. It's all right." Not even Truman Capote would have remembered these lines! Many readers have trouble when an author gives us an unreliable narrator, but sometimes a narrator can be *too* reliable.
The upside to the writing's shininess is that "Booth" is very smooth reading -- though I can't resist pointing out a rare stumble, when Surratt describes his dread: "I felt a cold shiver in my bowels, as if the shadow of death had sent a chill wind through them." Somehow I doubt Robertson was aiming to instill an image of wind in Surratt's bowels. But this type of lapse is unusual. "Booth" is a gripping, enlightening read that's well worth the time of even those who don't often pick up historical fiction. And for Civil War aficionados: Don't miss this one.


Love the time frame
Good Down Home Story
Engaging NovelBy a quarter of the way into the book I was absolutely hooked and wanted to keep reading it as quickly as possible. It's a terrifically engaging book and I felt very rewarded for staying with it early on when it was a bit confusing.
What I liked most about the book was how the story was told, ie., by several characters and not always chronoligically. This style unfolded the characters in very interesting ways. Just about every one of them grew in depth as the story worked toward a conclusion. I made judgments about people which weren't always accurate at the beginning and they grew before my eyes as the story moved on. Each character had much more depth than was revealed in the first half of the book and it reflects real life as we get to know people and they hold so much more depth than when we first meet them.
Further, I enjoyed her style of writing "in dialect". I had the feeling of evesdropping in on conversations in a household I wouldn't ordinarily have access to (I'm white). If these people were talking to me in real life they'd probably speak more "proper". This aspect endeared them to me. I also happen to live in an African American neighborhood so I do get an opportunity a times to hear and appreciate the more natural style of speaking that goes on in the 'hood so her style seemed very realistic and "down home" to me.
I highly recommend.


Nothing really new here ....This book is basically just Henry Lincoln setting down the events of his creation of the BBC "Chronicle" programs in the 1970s that opened up the alleged mystery of Rennes-le-Chateau to the European community. He wants to show the path he took to allow people to see that he was not "duped" as he has often been accused of and that the path he followed was logical. To a certain extent, it probably was logical. However, what Lincoln fails to acknowledge in this book (and all his other books) is that Jean Luc-Chaumeil, who does get mention in "Sacred Pattern," basically "ratted out" Pierre Plantard and the alleged Priory of Sion. Chaumeil's work has shown that the Priory was nothing more than a hoax that was started up by Pierre Plantard, who really was in a group of the same name that was started in 1956 by Andre Bonhomme. Thus, Lincoln was "duped." As was Gerard de Sede before him. He fell for the hoax, realized it, and then tried to latch on to another element of the "mystery" that seemed to have more promise and did not involve a "secret society." Lincoln also never mentions the massive contributions to the "mystery" by Jacques Riviere, Pierre Jarnac, and Rene Descadeillas. (He does briefly mention Descadeillas but then dismisses him without any explanation.) He also does not mention that he was presented with evidence from Jean Luc-Chaumeil before the publication of "Holy Blood, Holy Grail" that showed the Priory of Sion was a hoax and that he ignored. Lincoln, in his more recent research, has only concentrated on the alleged geometric aspects of the so-called mystery and he has given up trying to promote the Priory of Sion. That is basically what this book is about: setting up his new element of mystery, the alleged odd geometry. (He also did this because his 1991 "The Holy Place" is largely out of print and thus many of his fans were not aware of the extent of his work in this regard.
All in all, this is a relatively okay book if you want to try to get a very chronological fashion of how certain events happened during the course of the research, which is important to determine the veracity of an independent researcher like Lincoln. However, there is absolutely nothing new in this book that you could not read in "The Holy Place" or in the books that were co-authored with Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh. I would definitely not recommend this book unless you feel you just have to read everything on the story or you feel you need a "blow-by-blow" account, as it were, of Lincoln's research pattern.
Disappointing
A beautiful second partAfter "The Holy Place", Lincoln embarks on a new adventure, recalling other interesting particulars which take the target out of Rennes le Château, leading the reader to North Europe and to Fibonacci and the Templars.
A little too much critic towards Andrews and Schellenberger (who, on their side, have the merit to provide useful information and to suggest further readings), in the first part Lincoln sounds a little too jealous of his own theories and unwilling to listen to other people's point of view. A little too fiction, so to speak. The only reference to "The Tomb of God" (which is not mentioned in the bibliography, indeed very small and not helpful)is really arrogant.
At any rate, the second part of this book is absolutely a must, something able to drag you attention to other interesting, fascinating aspect of human history.
recommended to those who think Rennes le Château is only one ring of the chain.


Absurd conspiracy theories. . .Don't bother.
An Interesting Bit of Historical Fiction
This book is right on the Mark! Buy it if you can find it!

A Good Book For School
Boring, drab, and uneventful.
pathetic attempt at writing....

Only hope for Amrica!America no longer the same country it was say 30 years ago.
mass non-white immigration from third world nations flooding America has taken away the spiritual beauty of this once proud land.Rockwell was our only hope.if he live today.the Nazi Party
may have gotton a good start.Rockwell was indeed the Greatest man who walked this nation!
Schmaltz's New Book Is BetterSimonelli does bring further to light Solomon Fineberg's successful operation with his fellow Jews power to keep Rockwell from getting media attention, but he discusses it as if it occurred only between Jewish organizations. The real campaign was to orchestrated Jewish controlled news media. The book fails to mention the FBI's parallel program, COINTELPRO, which was both illegal and damaging to Rockwell.
The other book, William Schmaltz's , "George Lincoln Rockwell & the American Nazi Party," is a better and much more interesting book. It gives details of many of Rockwell's life, operations, confrontations with police, and much more detail on his lieutenants. "White Power," Rockwell's own book, which is still available, is well worth reading.
One has to suspect that Simonelli's book was a Ph.D. dissertation. It can serve as a reference for future biographers but generally is biased, a slow read, and unscholarly yet overly academic.
Frightening Proof Jewish Power and Media ControlIn spite of this wealth of primary sources, however, the book is disappointing and prefunctory. It seems that after all his archival sleuthing, Simonelli lost interest in his subject matter when he actually sat down to write the book. This leads to a distorted picture of Rockell's ideas and personality. A much fuller picture is found in the Schmaltz biography HATE.
One case in point: Simonelli's discussion of the case against John Patler, Rockwell's convicted killer, leaves out crucial pieces of evidence, giving the impression that the case against Patler was weaker than it actually was. Then Simonelli goes on to air the conspiracy theories blaming Matt Koehl, William Pierce, and others for the murder. These may seem plausible to the reader only because the case against Patler is stated weakly. This is VERY MISLEADING and quite simply unjust.
Simonelli actually does a better job of documenting how Jewish organizations first tried to terrorize and intimidate Rockwell, and then, failing that, resorted to a very successful press blackout to deny him publicity and prevent his ideas from being heard and debated. Simonelli demonstrates just how powerful the Jewish control over the media is, and how Americans are fed a version of reality that is distorted to protect and advance Jewish interests. This is a frightening thought, because if they did it then, they can do it now too.
The bottom line: I recommend this book as a supplement to Schmaltz's HATE, but not as a substitute. If you read one book on Rockwell, read HATE.


[weak]
Mr. Leddick Tries To Do Too Much.I would have preferred more insight into what made Mr. Lynes one of America's great photographers and less information and speculation as to whom he did bed or might have taken to bed. Mr. Leddick does discuss at some length many of Cadmus' paintings. Without the actual reproductions preferably in color, however, it is impossible to know whether or not this writer has a clue as to what he is discussing.
Mr. Leddick does briefly discuss Lynes' influence on later photographers, particularly Bruce Weber and Herb Ritts. For my money, Lynes is the best photographer of the male nude this country has had. His studio lighting is creative and quite wonderful. Just look at the photographs of anyone who followed him to see the long shadow he cast. (And all this inventive and difficult lighting before the strobe. At least there were no monotonous umbrella reflections in the eyes of Lynes' models.) Robert Mapplethorpe--whose work I admire a lot-- but who lit every photograph he ever took pretty much the same way-- could certainly have learned a plenty from studying Lynes' lighting.
So if you want to appreciate these two men-- study their works and made your own judgments. Mr. Leddick has edited a fine book on Mr. Lynes' photographs and there are several fine books on Cadmus in color.
A fine book, finely written

An embarassment to Lincoln scholarship
A Good Book SpoiledDuff had already been aquitted. He could not have been tried for the same crime twice. It is a shame that with all the good work he did Walsh did not present the case in a factual matter. he could have raised very interesting ethical questions about the role of a defense attorney with a very probably guilty client. He did not.
Lincoln's Legal EthicsEven today we instruct juries that they may believe all, part, or none of a witness's testimony. Lawyers are held to no different standards in their use of witnesses at trial except lawyers may not offer a witness whose testimony the lawyer believes would commit a fraud upon the court. Lincoln never placed this witness on the stand to elicit any testimony other than what the witness stated to be the truth. Thus the claim that Lincoln "suborned perjury" is naive and insulting. For all that, I enjoyed the underlying research, and the author's exposition of it. It does strike me that consultation with an attorney would have vastly improved the history and dampened the sensationalism.