Putnam, 511 pp., $6.95
There might seem to be two ways of reviewing this book. One would be to dismiss the idea that history needs to be accurate, that historical judgments require for their formulation not one source but many, that human character is intricate, self-deceiving, subtly moulded by time and circumstance, that style is more than adjective or adverb, that historical reconstruction is not dissimilar from the film scenario. That done, release the rolling periods, praise Mr. Dugan's panache, his gifts as a story teller, the boldness of his portraits, the lurid flavor of his prose, and finish by calling his book the best historical yarn of the year. The other would be to demolish him chapter by chapter, underlining the gross errors, the fatuous judgments, the sheer lack of historical insight, but above all his wild inaccuracy. A few examples:
Review, 1045 words
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