University of Missouri Books

It never ceases to amaze me how many people in this world blame their problems on everybody else, never looking for the way through, only the way out or around. The statement in the "official" review of this book that Alan Ladd could not read a script is probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever read, and proves that this man did not know Mr. Ladd at all. I did. And the stench of sour grapes is permeating this memoir of a frustrated, scapegoat-needing fool so badly that I don't care to read it--ever.
Call me overly sensitive, but when an idiot insults a friend--especially by writing a tainted story about him--what person will not stand up and defend their loved one?

"Nobody on latrine duty ever got the Medal of Honor." This truism may be found in the wonderfully titled _The Day I Fired Alan Ladd and Other World War II Adventures_ (University of Missouri Press) by A. E. Hotchner. Hotchner may have done some latrine duty in his time, but it wasn't latrine duty that kept him from getting a Medal of Honor. It was show business. It is hard to be a hero, he reflects, but his book is a chronicle of how he sincerely tried to get a chance to show some heroism, and how (though he did his assigned Army Air Force duties with aplomb) he never got that chance. There are many fine memoirs of World War II service, with the last ones coming out now as that "Greatest Generation" passes on. This one is a funny, unique tale of typical military snafus that often sounds as if it was a chapter in _Catch-22_.

Hotchner was eager to do his duty, and he knew just what he wanted to do, become a combat Navy pilot, because he admired the naval attire Dick Powell had worn in a movie. He persuaded a friend to join him in application to Navy pilot training. The friend got in; Hotchner failed his depth perception test. He then persuaded another friend to join him in regular naval officer training. The friend got in, and Hotchner was disqualified for flat feet. But he did get to enlist in the Army Air Force, and was overjoyed to apply to bombardier school. But somehow, his personnel file indicated he had written a musical in college, so he was required to write one for "I Am an American Day." He wrote as badly as he could, and the troops loved it. Hotchner got accepted to bombardier school, but General Fickle liked the show so much, he ordered Hotchner to perform it in all the states under his command instead. Eventually he was going to go into combat, but since he had theatrical experience, his next commander figured he was just the one to make a film about patrolling for U-boats, instead of actually patrolling for U-boats. When he finally was shipped to Europe, he learned in passage that Germany had surrendered.

Hotchner may have turned his repeated disappointments into amusement after many years, but his slim volume reads wonderfully well as one big joke on himself. He has breezy raconteurship for so many funny stories, but there are some episodes that are serious reflections on his times. He has a meaningful encounter with Clark Gable, for instance, going through excruciating military training as a way of getting through the pain of the death of his wife Carole Lombard. He tells us about how New Yorkers wouldn't let a man in uniform pay for his own dinner and drinks, and he shows how women were liberated at the time occupationally and sexually. It isn't his fault this isn't a memoir full of battle heroism, but the war effort was diverse, and his is a unique story.

I really enjoyed this book. I wanted to know more about Jesse James and what was going on in Missouri during the time of the civil war and Jesse's robberies and this book gave me a good basic understanding.
It was very easy reading and helpful.

When I picked up this book, I quickly discovered that I'd overlooked something: It is designed for adults who are learning to read. With that caveat in mind, Jesse James and the Civil War in Missouri is an interesting glance at the influence of the Civil War and Quantrill's Raiders on the infamous Frank and Jesse James.

Given its goal of being a easy-to-read book, Dyer decent a good job of describing the divisions between Unionists and Confederate sympathizers in Missouri and the rather limited role the James Brothers played in the Civil War. All in all, the book mostly whets one's appetite for more information, but there are some good photos and basic information that might recommend the book, particularly to younger readers who are interested in the Wild West or the Civil War.

Mark Neuzil and Merry Foresta have brought back to life with this book a Mississippi River that has long since disappeared below the brackish water of the Big Muddy. Henry Peter Bosse captured on film the Mississippi River that Mark Twain navigated as a river boat captain, the Mormans had to traverse leaving Nauvoo, IL for points west and that Lewis and Clark travelled on the way to the west coast. He did this at a time just before it disappeared below the backwaters of today's lock and dam system. Bosse's photographs, while valued at over $1,000,000 are priceless to those of us that have looked out over the river as it exists today and wondered "What lies below the surface of that water?" or "What did the river look like before the lock and dams were built"
If you have ever lived on or loved "The River" this book is a must buy!

Henry Peter Bosse's exquisite photographs of the Upper Mississippi River, taken between 1883 and 1893, are little known today owing to their great scarcity. Fewer than two hundred of his images have ever reached the open market, and there has yet to be a major museum exhibition of his work. Despite this, Bosse's large cyanotypes currently sell in the twenty thousand dollar range and are much sought after by museums and discerning photo collectors. A first rate book on his career and images has been needed for over a decade.

Sadly, that need has yet to be fulfilled. Mark Neuzil's decidedly poor offering contributes only badly reproduced photographs and a text that, while eminently readable, is overshadowed by glaring inaccuracies.

Early on, Neuzil opines that Bosse "...was tutored in Greek and Latin and completed classical studies at Magdeburg (Germany) where he added courses in engineering and art..." (pg.7). But in the next sentence he notes, "There was no university at Magdeburg at the time...", and cites a sole obituary as a basis for his "facts" regarding Bosse's education. Since Neuzil also notes that there are no known historical documents pertaining to Bosse prior to his arrival in the U.S. this attribution seems something of a stretch.

On the next page he names Montgomery Meigs, U.S. Civil Engineer, as a possible photography tutor to Bosse, citing Meigs' experience with a camera and his own cyanotypes. A little rudimentary research on the author's part would have revealed that all of Meigs' known photos date from AFTER 1893, by which time Bosse had apparently stopped taking pictures.

Two paragraphs on, Neuzil emphatically states that, "In the floating office that was the BARNARD (a Corps riverboat) Bosse possibly enjoyed the company of Mark Twain...(because)...Some of the author's river travel in 1882 came via the BARNARD, ...captained...by a friend of Twain's."

This must come as a huge surprise to Twain scholars. The author's 1882 Mississippi River trip was fully chronicled by the popular press of the day and neither they nor any Twain historian since ever stumbled across this piece of information. Neuzil offers no source for the tidbit, and actually can't do so - for the simple reason that it never happened!

The author also claims that in 1878 Bosse began work for the Rock Island Engineer Office, "...where he was employed as chief draftsman until his death in 1903." However, Mary Forresta's introduction to Neuzil's book states (correctly) that F.S. Eastman was chief draftsman at Rock Island when Bosse arrived. Indeed, Bosse only achieved that position after Eastman left the job some years later.

An author's perceived veracity is of paramount interest to the reader, particularly when that author is writing history or offering himself as an expert on the subject at hand. The errors mentioned here occur IN THE FIRST TEN PAGES and only the need for brevity prohibits pointing to more. Add to the mix a collection of images that, while fascinating, are still bland and tepid versions of Bosse's originals and you have VIEWS ON THE MISSISSIPPI.

That said, buy it anyway. Henry Bosse's photographs deserve far wider circulation than they have achieved, which is a pity. His images offer us an intimate glimpse of Mark Twain's Mississippi River, up close and personal - or at least closer than anyone else of the period. If you enjoy Mark Twain and/or the Mississippi you'll enjoy Bosse's photos - but take the attached history with substantially more than a pinch of salt. Actually, take it with a great honkin' truck load.

Mike Conner

This book focuses on the interaction of policy and strategy between President Wilson's administration and the Entente Powers, as well as between U.S. Navy leadership in the U.S. and Navy personnel in Europe, specifically Sims in Britain.

This account is not for the amateur historian. It provides excrutiating accounts of discussions between the parties mentioned above. Although I have a master's degree in Naval History, I found parts of this almost impossible to slog through.

It seems that Trask was bound and determined to tell us about every cable between Sims and Benson and every failed idea that nobody acted on.

With that said, I found it invaluable to understanding naval relationships between the Entente Powers in the Mediterranean as well as the initial coordination between the U.S. Navy and Royal Navy.

In conclusion, this was at times an excrutiatingly detailed account. But by skimming through the most tedious sections, a serious student of World War I naval operations will find some value in this account.

The Western world had seen tremendous political change in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Many were attempting to grasp the significance and the nature of the democratic changes that were occurring. Tocqueville, a French aristocrat, took it upon himself to describe and explain in great detail to his fellow Europeans the American experiment in democracy, which had lasted a half century at the time his treatise "Democracy in America" appeared.

For Tocqueville, the essence of democracy was equality. First political and social equality, but in addition rough equality of condition. But he was very concerned with issues of the power of the majority and centralization of government. It wasn't just formal governmental power, but the power of majority opinion to restrain independent thought that troubled him. He also thought that the liberty that people enjoyed under a regime of equality led to excessive individualism with the potential for forming an economic elite - a contradiction for a democracy.

Commager touches on these concerns of Tocqueville. With the advantage of a century and a half of hindsight it is possible to quibble with Tocqueville and Commager does some of that. For example, Tocqueville's claim that only a democracy can form a just order is countered with obvious examples of injustice. Commager is surely correct in noting that the federal government has a better record of broadening individual rights than do local governments. But those observations do not really detract from the relevance of Tocqueville's insights.

The book is far more a platform for Commager's views in the same areas. He finds the modern national security state to be akin to the paranoia of the slave-holding Southern aristocracy in its manner of dealing with threats - perceived or real - with an equal potential for aggressive action. He contends that American democracy has been essentially short-circuited by the consistent failure to take seriously the general welfare clause of the Constitution, the main exception being FDR's New Deal. He sees private enterprise (Tocqueville's individualism) as creating all manner of environmental and other problems that threaten our very survival.

The book is really a compendium of Commager lectures. It is not a systematic treatment of Tocqueville or of the issues associated with democracy. It is a nice overview.

Next to journal reading, a compilation of personal letters is a good way to really get to know someone. This book is a collection of letters exchanged between Thomas Jefferson and his children & grandchildren over a long period of time. The book starts when the kids are young and he is away on his government duties. We find that times really hasn't changed that much as Jefferson constantly nags them to write him letters. As the kids grow older, they become much more prolific writers. The book becomes most interesting whenever the grandchildren mature and begin to write him during his presidency. In these letters, he shares tips and philosophy on life, economics, and general principles- even though we know he may not have put all of these into practice himself.

My rating reflects the disappointment that the editors failed to structure the book in a way that fills in the blanks for the reader. As an example, the death of his daughter only triggers a footnote to one of the letters since the event caused a lapse in letter writing between the family during his return visit to Monticello. To find out what had happened, I had to consult other material. This book could be greatly improved if a revised edition would include dialog that would explain the events mentioned in the letters.

In spite of this, you will like this book if you are a follower of Thomas Jefferson. This shouldn't be your first book or even your second volume on Jefferson, but if you are well versed on the history of this important man- then you will find much enjoyment within the pages.

"The First Chouteaus: River Barons of Early St. Louis," by William E. Foley and C. David Rice, University of Illinois Press, 2000. This is the story of two step-brothers, Auguste and Pierre Chouteau, who were the leading fur traders in the early days of St. Louis. The book tells the story of St. Louis from their point of view from its founding by their stepfather, Pierre de Laclede Liguest, in December, 1763, until Missouri statehood in 1821.

Laclede was a French businessman from New Orleans. He set out to establish a fur trading post in Upper Louisiana for the New Orleans firm of Maxent, Laclede and Company. France had already lost the French and Indian War, which resulted in France ceding all claim to territory in North America, but the treaty had not yet been completed. France was expected to cede claim to territory East of the Mississippi, but retain rights to Louisiana Territory on the West Bank. Hence, French settlers from Illinois settlements at Cahokia and Kalkaskia who sought to avoid British rule, moved to the new colony named after Louis IX, patron saint of King Louis XV of France. Word that the western territory had been ceded to Spain in the Treaty of Fountainbleau did not reach the colony until 1764.

Laclede and later the Chouteaus were first rate diplomats. Their business consisted of trading manufactured goods to the Indians-especially the Osages-in exchange for furs. The furs were then shipped to Europe via New Orleans. Competitive British traders operated out of Montreal and the Great Lakes. They were better supplied with trade goods by their British suppliers. Success of the business depended on the relationship developed with the Indians. The power of the Chouteaus was enhanced by intermarriage of family members with other traders in the area. Their contacts served them well in dealing with the various changes in government-both with the Spanish and later with the Americans.

Although Laclede died with debts outstanding, the Chouteaus enjoyed reasonable profits through most of their business careers. The fur trading business was continued by their sons, but after the Louisiana Purchase brought the territory into the US, the US recognized Spanish land grants. The Chouteaus became major land owners. Real estate investment became a major business line.

In the 19th Century, St. Louis grew to be a major river city, primarily because of its position as the gateway to the west and access by steamboat. Robert Fulton's steamboat was invented in 1807; by 1818 steamboats traveled throughout the Mississippi River system. Surprisingly, the book makes not a single reference to steamboats. Apparently the Chouteaus continued to ship their furs by bateau and made little or no use of steamboats. Similarly, they were not steamboat investors. Although they sometimes shipped their furs to Montreal rather than New Orleans, there is no mention of business dealings with New York or Philadelphia. We are left wondering who brought the first steamboats to St. Louis and who built the famous wharves.

It seems likely the Chouteaus had excellent language skills. They spoke French, they apparently spoke the Osage language, they probably spoke Spanish, but did they speak English? Maybe not. This aspect is not clarified.

This book is a paperback edition of the book originally published in 1983. It provides an interesting perspective of the early history of St. Louis. References. Index. Genealogy. Maps. Pictures.

I learned some things from this book, but it does amble on like a boring textbook sometimes. The stories of the the families were very interesting. My great-grandma's cows in N.E. SD ate cockleburs during the depression, and trying to hit water during a well drill was distressing.

If you are interested in the history of life in the midwest you'll enjoy this book. Lewis Atherton describes the social history of a midwest town from the 1860's to the 1950's.