Learning that J.D. Salinger died a day after learning that Howard Zinn had qualifies as a sufficiently surreal experience for that type of person who very much resembles me. Catcher in the Rye taught me how to channel my anger into antisocial behaviors—reading books in my bedroom foremost among them—but as I read it with the same critical acumen that led me to wear out not one but two VHS copies of Pump Up the Volume, the less I say about the book the better. (That and it violates the Five Year Rule three times over.)
Within two years of reading Salinger, I'd affected all the trappings of The Young Punk Who Would Be Vegan and read A People's History of the United States, but unlike Salinger's novel, Zinn's history resonated with me until my sophomore year of college, when I was disabused of its importance by the man himself. I had attended a lecture of his and somehow weaseled my way into a dinner that followed. I told him how significant A People's History had been to my political and intellectual development and that I had read it four or five times and that I was about to start it again when he stopped me short:
"My little book has served its purpose," he told me. "Perhaps it's time you started on the bibliography."
He smiled and was about to say something else when he was whisked away by some other sycophant eager to bend his ear, but after talking to other people who had very similar conversations with him, I think I know what he was going to say: namely, that his "little book" was meant more as a point of departure than a destination. Treating it the way Matt Damon's Good Will Hunting character did (and every newly-minted hipster firebrand does) violates the spirit of its polemic, because the book isn't meant to replace traditional histories so much as supplement them.
For example, if the significance of the Christian tradition is given short-shrift in the book, it isn't because that tradition's unimportant to the development of the nation, but because a robust canon addressing that issue already exists. Zinn never intended his book to be an education in itself, but many readers—especially non-serious ones involved in any of a variety of Zinn-friendly scenes—inflated its importance until it became the definitive source for the entirety of American history. The extensive bibliography in the back-pages indicates that it had no pretensions of being anything of the sort.
I could prattle on about its faults—foremost among them, Zinn's subscription to a dualism so powerful and pervasive that his accounts of internecine conflicts on the left border on unintelligible—but it is impossible to deny the attraction the book has for young adults whose knowledge of American history comes from the skeletal outlines of a public education. The simplicity of its dualistic worldview appeals to the adolescent in the first throes of rebellion because that worldview is itself adolescent. That sounds like an insult, but I mean it in the same sense that Zinn meant what he said to me: A People's History represents a stage in one's intellectual development.
It was never intended to arrest it.
I can see his and your point. Zinn really got me into history. You could almost say it was the gateway drug into my obsession with the field. I have my MA in the field and maybe some day I will go get my Phd if this library thing I am pursuing is not suited to me. Yes there are better in the field but he is still my favorite. I know that's not the most "scholarly" thing to say but whatever.
It is kind of the same thing that Jello Biafra says when people tell him that he changed their lives. That it is now your turn to do the same for someone else.
Posted by: amadeupfakename | Thursday, 28 January 2010 at 06:25 PM
Interesting. The role of Zinn in your intellectual development in many ways mirrors the role Ayn Rand plays for many on the right (I include myself). Though there are obvious differences (certainly in self image, I can't imagine her ever reacting so humbly to a young admirer), they both have sort of crude worldviews, expressed powerfully in ways that challenge authority in exactly the sort of way that appeals to young people.
Posted by: Jesse A. | Thursday, 28 January 2010 at 07:24 PM
I'm with Zinn: You should also find out what music your favorite musicians listen to, what their muses are. What films directors watch, or are inspired by. What their sources are.
And learn to be a sociopath. http://www.ribbonfarm.com/2009/11/21/morality-compassion-and-the-sociopath/
Posted by: Paul Renault | Friday, 29 January 2010 at 07:52 AM
Howard Zinn is like Ayn Rand? That's like saying Isaac Asimov is like L. Ron Hubbard...
Posted by: JPRS | Saturday, 30 January 2010 at 03:19 AM
A is always like B if you squint hard enough. That's the trouble with analogies.
Posted by: asarwate | Saturday, 30 January 2010 at 04:37 AM
Great post Scott. Have you ever read Eric Foner's The Story of American Freedom? Just curious.
take care,
Nate
Posted by: Nate | Monday, 01 February 2010 at 01:03 AM
this? this is marvelous. and for that, thank you.
Posted by: painsthee | Monday, 01 February 2010 at 07:03 PM
Nate, I have, years and years ago. The one I read most recently---though I can't, for the life of me, remember why---was Who Owns History.
Posted by: SEK | Tuesday, 02 February 2010 at 01:59 PM