The Depression and the New Deal: A History in Documents. By Robert S. McElvaine. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000 (191 pages, illustrations, ISBN 0-19-510493-5, $32.95).

Robert S. McElvaine has masterfully assembled a wide range of documents to tell the story of the Great Depression in an engaging, insightful, and provocative manner. The author covers all the bases in explaining the essentials of the thirties. He has included the landmark speeches, the key laws, and the expert commentary to frame the times politically; but what really sets this work above others is the careful selection of incredibly interesting documents accompanied by straightforward, astute, explanations of their significance.

By my count, McElvaine has selected 209 separate documents. Twenty-one of them represent political ideas or laws expressed by the policy makers of the 1930s. Another twenty-eight provide insight and analysis from both critics and supporters of the New Deal. The remaining selections run the gamut from powerful representations of “New Deal art” to an explanation of how Joe Louis helped America approach greater civil rights equality.

While McElvaine never loses sight of explaining the Great Depression, he includes documentary gems that encourage creative thinking and will stimulate discussion in the classroom. From the “1932nd Psalm,”

Hoover is my shepherd, I am in want,
He maketh me to lie down on park benches,
He leadeth me by still factories,
He restoreth my doubt in the
Republican Party . . . (page 28).

Whether students blame Herbert Hoover for the depression or defend his record as a preview of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, the “Psalm” provides high motivation to discuss the kinds of problems he faced and the choices he made. Later, McElvaine includes panels from “Superman.” Tellingly, Clark Kent interviews a businessman, “But surely you’re going to repair the bad safety-conditions in your mine!” The businessman replies, “. . . What of it? I’m a businessman not a humanitarian” (page 141)! Thus, not only do students explore the linkage of the popular arts with Great Depression issues, they encounter an engaging springboard to begin analysis of the National Industrial Recovery Act and the Wagner Acts.

The book stresses the role of President Roosevelt in the creation of the New Deal and explains the success of his programs through the inclusion of a multitude of personal anecdotes. Even as FDR consults with his Brain Trust and John Maynard Keynes suggests improvements to the New Deal, McElvaine intersperses the text with testimonials from the people of America. In letters they express their devotion to the president’s programs and ask special favors of the First Lady. Or, sometimes, they write songs and poetry unleashing heartfelt emotion. As Langston Hughes put it,

The pot was empty,
The cupboard was bare.
I said, Papa,
What’s the matter here?
I’m waitin’ on Roosevelt son,
Roosevelt, Roosevelt,
Waitin’ on Roosevelt, son (page 88).

Ultimately, McElvaine contends that the Great Depression caused Americans to return to “traditional, cooperative values” that had been lost in the individualistic, material twenties, but given the scope of the book, he did not include the kinds of comparisons necessary to prove his point. To do full justice in proving that argument, McElvaine will have to write another volume. But this complaint is minor. The Depression and the New Deal is a fine work, indeed

Allen Rudolph
Los Gatos High School
Los Gatos, California

Dear Young Friend: The Letters of American Presidents to Children. Edited by Stanley Weintraub and Rodelle Weintraub. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 2000 (193 pages, ISBN 0-8117-0489-0, $24.95).

In 1783 John Adams wrote to his son, “We think, and improve our Judgments, by committing our Thoughts to Paper” (page 17). Letters have proven to be a remarkable source of information concerning the private thoughts and personal values of the writer. In Dear Young Friend, Stanley and Rodelle Weintraub have assembled an impressive and eclectic collection of letters from American presidents to children. Interestingly, recent presidents (Ford through Clinton) are excluded, since autopen and staff, e-mail and instant communication, have all but made traditional presidential correspondence obsolete.

The Weintraubs prove to be skilled editors and provide outstanding commentary and context throughout the book, which helps clarify sometimes complex familial relationships. All of the classic and well-known presidential letters to and from children are included—a young Robert F. Kennedy’s letter to Franklin D. Roosevelt thanking him for the stamps the president had sent for his collection; Abraham Lincoln’s correspondence with Grace Bedell, the young girl who had first suggested that he grow whiskers to enhance his appearance; and a letter from a twelve-year-old Cuban boy, Fidel Castro, to Franklin Roosevelt, “I don’t know very English, but I know as much as write to you . . . If you like, give me a ten dollars bill green American” (pages 145-46). It seems that each page of Dear Young Friend offers some new surprise or revelation to the delight of the reader.

The book’s greatest strength, however, is in revealing the human side of our nation’s chief executives. Although Washington and Jefferson still remain enigmatic, others, through their letters, prove to be far better men than politicians. John Tyler, whose reputation and devout belief in states’ rights are routinely trounced in textbooks, is shown to be a person of intelligence, a devoted father, and a man of unquestionable integrity. In letters to his daughter Mary, Tyler describes his impressions of the federal capital, corrects her sloppy grammar, and cautions that “vice can never give lasting pleasure, but is followed by certain destruction” (page 57). The profound humanity of our presidents is conveyed throughout the letters in a way that is conspicuously absent from their professional correspondence. It is somehow reassuring to know that even John Quincy Adams was frequently frustrated by his children’s impertinence, and the letters to his boys are filled with stern admonitions and fatherly irritation. He finally signs one letter to John Adams II, “Being always your affectionate, and whenever you deserve it, you[r] indulgent father” (page 35). When Lincoln’s eloquence and wit fails him in a trite inscription scribbled into a child’s confession (autograph) book and Theodore Roosevelt’s “picture” letters to young children consist of primitive sketches, these historical figures are, in fact, enhanced. Certainly one of the most poignant letters comes from a young Abram Garfield. Written to his mortally wounded father and obviously unaware of the impending tragedy, Abram writes, “I am very sorry that you were hurt,” and then includes some news of the family dog, old Veto (page 103).

There is much to be learned from Dear Young Friend. During the bitterly contested electoral controversy of 1876, Rutherford B. Hayes assures his son that “If Mr. Tilden is elected, all good citizens will quietly acquiesce and will wish to give him and his administration fair play” (page 98). Once again, the axiom, “the only thing new in life is the history that you don’t know,” proves true. Stanley and Rodelle Weintraub have done a superb job in enlightening all of us.

Philip Bigler
Thomas Jefferson High School for Science & Technology
Fairfax, Virginia