Andrew Burstein

If you've read David McCullough's excellent John Adams, you're aware of the interesting friendship Adams had with Thomas Jefferson, both men dying within hours of each other on July 4, exactly fifty years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. But even that relationship pales in comparison to the one between Jefferson and James Madison, the 4th president. And in this excellent dual political biography, Andrew Burstein and Nancy Isenberg have turned the order of the presidents show more around in their title in an effort to reassert the forgotten contributions of Madison. (Well, that and maybe the fact that Jefferson and Madison as a title had already been used.) Madison wasn't simply Jefferson's "junior," but more like the driving force behind Jefferson's reentry into politics in 1796.

As I've read and studied about the founding of our nation, in my mind George Washington perhaps stands closest to the ideal of a truly noble hero. John Adams is likewise admirable, although hampered by his vanity and having the misfortune to follow in Washington's very long shadow. By the time I get to Thomas Jefferson, though, things get ugly. The nastiness of party politics becomes intractable - and Jefferson was a natural at hardball politics.

Both Jefferson and Madison were Virginians first, which heavily influenced their politics. Jefferson, the idealist and philosopher, is quite frequently seen as a walking contradiction. His lofty ideals and eloquent way with words had a way of swaying opinion. His fear of monarchial tendencies in government drove his policies, and he sought to maintain states rights and limit the power of the federal government (even while, as president, he greatly enlarged federal power). Madison, credited as the "Father of the Constitution" for his monumental efforts in 1787, is seen wrongly as a continuation of the Jefferson presidency, and many assumed Jefferson was still pulling the strings. In spite of their close friendship, they frequently differed in opinions and the courses of action they took. And while Jefferson appears as cordial and pleasant, Madison is portrayed unfairly as cold and unemotional. And Burstein and Isenberg do a good job of highlighting the important role played by Madison in the history both had such a huge role in.

This is a lengthy book with the narrative being almost 650 pages long, with dense writing that requires careful attention. As such, it's probably directed at serious readers of history rather than casual ones. The focus is mostly on politics, although there's enough information on their personal lives to give it a good balance. With two authors it sometimes feels a little uneven, although the book doesn't suffer for it. The ending, however, seemed almost disconnected and I vaguely suspected the authors of inserting some of their own personal present-day politics into the story. But even this doesn't take away from the terrific work they've compiled, and in spite of the length and depth it kept my interest throughout. show less

"Lincoln Dreamt He Died" is a smorgasbord of compelling and seldom-seen examples of very personal dream accounts reaching far back into our country's past. However, it stretches much further than that by tying those dreams into the very fabric of early American history.

What makes this book stand out from other dream books I've read (such as Brian Hill's "Gates of Horn and Ivory") is that it is not an anthology. Instead, it is an intense and in-depth look at how Americans perceived their show more dreams, and how that viewpoint changed over the years as the country grew and matured.

Drawing from journals, letters, and various publications either recounting dreams or discussing opinions about dreams, author Andrew Burstein excerpts and synthesizes the widely varied material into a thread which follows the life of dreams in the minds of early American women and men.

How did early Americans respond to dreams? Did they dream, overall, similarly to how we dream today? Did dreams have real effects on their world?

As an amateur historian and folklorist I found this book absorbing. It represents a refreshing new outlook on the roots of the American viewpoint. You can tell how deeply Burstein immersed himself in the project by the way he occasionally refers to themes and patterns that aren't obvious on reading chapters for the first time -- and speaking personally this is not a drawback, as I'd rather go back and reread sections to really get a grasp on what the author’s point is, than to read the book once-through on a surface level only (which so many of those dream anthologies are delightfully geared to allow).

If you are interested in early American social history, and curious about how the internal world of dreams tied into and reflected the external world of centuries past, by all means, pick this book up. It is a fascinating window on the tandem worlds of the inner and outer lives of our predecessors. show less

If you've read David McCullough's excellent John Adams, you're aware of the interesting friendship Adams had with Thomas Jefferson, both men dying within hours of each other on July 4, exactly fifty years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence. But even that relationship pales in comparison to the one between Jefferson and James Madison, the 4th president. And in this excellent dual political biography, Andrew Burstein and Nancy Isenberg have turned the order of the presidents show more around in their title in an effort to reassert the forgotten contributions of Madison. (Well, that and maybe the fact that Jefferson and Madison as a title had already been used.) Madison wasn't simply Jefferson's "junior," but more like the driving force behind Jefferson's reentry into politics in 1796.

As I've read and studied about the founding of our nation, in my mind George Washington perhaps stands closest to the ideal of a truly noble hero. John Adams is likewise admirable, although hampered by his vanity and having the misfortune to follow in Washington's very long shadow. By the time I get to Thomas Jefferson, though, things get ugly. The nastiness of party politics becomes intractable - and Jefferson was a natural at hardball politics.

Both Jefferson and Madison were Virginians first, which heavily influenced their politics. Jefferson, the idealist and philosopher, is quite frequently seen as a walking contradiction. His lofty ideals and eloquent way with words had a way of swaying opinion. His fear of monarchial tendencies in government drove his policies, and he sought to maintain states rights and limit the power of the federal government (even while, as president, he greatly enlarged federal power). Madison, credited as the "Father of the Constitution" for his monumental efforts in 1787, is seen wrongly as a continuation of the Jefferson presidency, and many assumed Jefferson was still pulling the strings. In spite of their close friendship, they frequently differed in opinions and the courses of action they took. And while Jefferson appears as cordial and pleasant, Madison is portrayed unfairly as cold and unemotional. And Burstein and Isenberg do a good job of highlighting the important role played by Madison in the history both had such a huge role in.

This is a lengthy book with the narrative being almost 650 pages long, with dense writing that requires careful attention. As such, it's probably directed at serious readers of history rather than casual ones. The focus is mostly on politics, although there's enough information on their personal lives to give it a good balance. With two authors it sometimes feels a little uneven, although the book doesn't suffer for it. The ending, however, seemed almost disconnected and I vaguely suspected the authors of inserting some of their own personal present-day politics into the story. But even this doesn't take away from the terrific work they've compiled, and in spite of the length and depth it kept my interest throughout. show less

A compelling study of dreams and their interpretation in American history, though somewhat hampered by its sprawling nature.