Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts

Thursday, July 2, 2015

Revisiting "The Man He Became": Part Three

Cover of the book "The Man He Became" by James Tobin with photo of Franklin Roosevelt
This Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I’m taking a break from regular blogging, and instead re-run my three-part review of James Tobin’s book, “The Man He Became,” about Franklin D. Roosevelt’s bout with Polio, his rehabilitation, and his return to politics as a disabled man.

Here is a sample, then a link to Part Three:

"I love the fact that while Roosevelt was an extremely private person about his own situation, he actively sought and almost reveled in connections with others who had Polio. He was a natural leader, but he was also a good listener and good learner, whether the teacher was a distinguished doctor or a 15 year old kid who had lived with Polio for longer than he had. Without realizing it, Roosevelt was pioneering “Peer Counseling”, not just as an individual pursuit, but in a more formal way at Warm Springs."

February 16, 2014

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Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Revisiting "The Man He Became": Part Two

Cover of the book "The Man He Became" by James Tobin with photo of Franklin Roosevelt
This Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I’m taking a break from regular blogging, and instead re-run my three-part review of James Tobin’s book, “The Man He Became,” about Franklin D. Roosevelt’s bout with Polio, his rehabilitation, and his return to politics as a disabled man.

Here is a sample, then a link to Part Two:

"I was struck by Roosevelt’s frequent use of the made-up word, “Infradig” … meaning things not to be talked about. Anything to do with his disability was “Infradig” in normal conversation. There were two exceptions ... he would discuss his condition with medical professionals and with other people who had Polio. Tobin here starts to mention letters Roosevelt exchanged with other people who had Polio … people from all walks of life, who had nothing in common with him except Polio. I was enormously moved to read that this exceptionally private man was so open with details of his life with people he barely knew, because he sought their advice and, eventually, began to offer his advice to them."

February 8, 2015

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Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Revisiting "The Man He Became": Part One


Cover of the book "The Man He Became" by James Tobin with photo of Franklin Roosevelt
This Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, I’m taking a break from regular blogging, and instead re-run my three-part review of James Tobin’s book, “The Man He Became,” about Franklin D. Roosevelt’s bout with Polio, his rehabilitation, and his return to politics as a disabled man.

Here is a sample, then a link to Part One:

"'The Man He Became' is fascinating and emotionally engaging. I thought I would learn things I didn’t know before. I sensed that I would agree with some of Tobin’s new conclusions. What I didn’t expect was to feel so personally close to Franklin Roosevelt as he went through his bout with Polio. And I didn’t expect to recognize so many of the social habits, irritations, and forces that FDR had to contend with. The way the story is shaping up, it really does seem like FDR was a forerunner of today’s “social model” of disability, whether or not he knew it or Intended to be."

January 25, 2014

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Saturday, November 22, 2014

A Fuller Picture Of A Disability Hero

Photo of a marble statue of Emperor Claudius
I have blogged before about Claudius, the fourth Emperor of Rome, and arguably the most powerful disabled person in history. When I say that he is one of my disability heroes, though, I am indulging in a bit of artistic license and selective ignorance.

Like many modern people, I was introduced to Claudius by Robert Graves’ books, I, Claudius and Claudius The God … and by the late ‘70s BBC series, I, Claudius. Although based on the writings of contemporary Roman and later European historians, Graves’ account of Claudius and his fractious family is fictionalized. The books are novels, not histories.

It’s also easy for a disabled person like me to focus too much on Claudius’ disabilities, about which specific information is sketchy. Besides not really knowing how severe his disabilities were, or what kind, (Cerebral Palsy? Epilepsy? Polio?), there is the matter of his less-than-admirable personal life … especially how he treated the women in his life ... and the fact that he was a “good” Emperor in the context of a former republic that had more or less voluntarily opted for dictatorship, and a political system where bribery, assassination, and purges were standard operating procedure.

Still, despite all the caveats, it’s hard to escape the essential fact that a man who was at least regarded as being an “idiot” became Emperor, and instead of being someone's puppet, was one of the most effective and honest Emperors in he long history of Rome.

For a more complete, history of Claudius, (though brief), I highly recommend the following episodes of The History Of Rome, the epic historical podcast by Mike Duncan. It’s interesting how he sort of plays along with the idea that there was something inherently comical about Claudius’ rise to power, while clearly admiring Claudius and his record of achievement. Personally, I find my affection and admiration for Claudius stronger for knowing more of the historical facts.

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Buy It: I, Claudius (the book)

From the Amazon.com listing:

"Considered an idiot because of his physical infirmities, Claudius survived the intrigues and poisonings of the reigns of Augustus, Tiberius, and the Mad Caligula to become emperor in 41 A.D. A masterpiece.”

This book and it’s sequel, Claudius The God: And His Wife Messalina and the BBC miniseries take ample artistic license, but Emperor Claudius really did have disabilities, most likely polio and epilepsy. Claudius is one of my historical heroes, and should be for everyone born with disabilities.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

Buy It: "The Man He Became"

This book is great history and biography. At the same time it offers scores of insights into what it is like to experience new disability, both the pain and fear of the conditions themselves, and the social dimensions that become even more important. I found my admiration for Franklin Roosevelt deepen and take unique shape after reading this book.

Earlier this year, I wrote a three-part review which you can read at the links below:

Friday, July 25, 2014

"Criptiques" & "Criptionary"

Caitlin Wood, Criptiques - July 23, 2014

There's another great "Criptiques" interview out! Follow the link above to hear Caitlin Wood interview poet, performer, and disability activist Maria Palacios. Someone should really collect writings from all of these amazing people Caitlin is interviewing, into some sort of book. Oh, wait ...

During the interview, Catilin and Maria refer to Maria's book, "Criptionary". I haven't read it yet, but I have read a few sample definitions from the book, and they're hilarious.

If you want to know a little more about the book before you buy, visit the "Criptionary" Facebook Page.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Digging Up Disability History

Elizabeth Picciuto, The Daily Beast - July 22, 2014
"The moral arc of the universe may indeed bend toward justice, in disability as in race, gender, and class—but that arc doesn’t flow smoothly: It contains many hills and valleys.”
I have seen several versions of this story about the skeleton of a person with Down Syndrome, dated to the 5th or 6th century A.D. Most of the references present as established fact the idea that because the child was buried the same way, with the same burial rites as others in her clan, it shows that people with Down Syndrome were fully integrated, valued members of their communities, even in the “Dark Ages”. Even though this article acknowledges how little we really know about ancient attitudes towards disabilities from such sparse evidence, I still find this new evidence tantalizing.

book cover of History Of The World, Updated, by J. M. Roberts
A few years ago, one of the first audiobooks I listened to was History Of The World, Updated, by J. M. Roberts. In one of the early chapters, Roberts mentions that archeologists had found the prehistoric remains of a man who appeared to have had a physical impairment. Yet, he also appeared to have died fairly old. Roberts speculates that the man probably had to be sustained by his clan, and indeed, this man, too, seemed to have been buried surrounded by gathered flowers and nick-nacks … indicating that the people of that age were more than just beasts that looked human. They were, just maybe, compassionate and sophisticated in their understanding of human value.

photo of a marble bust of Roman Emperor ClaudiusAt the other end of the historical scale, the article refers to the fact that in the 1800s, people with disabilities were quite often integrated into their communities, and only separated and institutionalized later, during the “Progressive Era”. In fact, how the well-meaning “progressives" of the early 20th century dealt with disability is an important reminder of how good people throughout history often get things wrong … sometimes terribly wrong … and confuse altruism and charity, with prejudice and condescension.

Were institutions and "state schools" for disabled people created to protect us from society's harshness and cruelty? Or, were they really meant to get us out of the way, out from under foot, so to speak. Probably both.

Finally, I think again of my favorite disabled person from history, the Roman Emperor Claudius, who historians believe had cerebral palsy and epilepsy. We will probably never know exactly how extensive his disabilities were, or the degree to which he was stigmatized. Yet, once again the shreds of evidence are tantalizing.

I would like to know more about disability in ancient and prehistoric times. Does anyone know of any other studies, articles, or books on the subject?

Monday, July 21, 2014

Buy It: The Revolution Was Televised

If you are interested in what makes a great TV show different from bad or mediocre TV, The Revolution Was Televised: The Cops, Crooks, Slingers, and Slayers Who Changed TV Drama Forever, by TV critic Alan Sepinwall, is a good book to start. It’s also just plain fun to review some of the best TV shows you may have watched over the last 20 or so years. It also is the book that finally convinced me to watch Friday Night Lights, one of the best disability TV shows that wasn’t a disability TV show.

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Book Preveiw

Book cover: title "Criptiques", edited by Caitlin Wood, aqua blue cover
I just received my copy of Criptiques, the "crip culture" anthology edited by Caitlin Wood. I haven't gotten very far in the book, but based on Wood's introduction, I am 99% sure I am going to love it:
"Crip is my favorite four-letter word. Succinct and blunt. profane to some, crip packs a punch. Crip is unapologetic. Audacious. Noncompliant. Crip takes pleasure in its boldness and utter disinterest in appearing "respectable" to the status quo. It's a powerful self-descriptor, a cultural signifier, and a challenge to anyone attempting to conceal disability off in the shadows. Crip is anti-assimilationist and proud of it. Crip is outspoken with no patience for nonsense. Crip is my culture and where I want to be."
For months, I have been trying to figure out how to describe the fundamental differences between disabled people who are part of "crip culture", and those who even when they are generally positive and hopeful, still seem to view their disability as an unwelcome, barely tolerated guest. Caitlin Wood does such a great job of explaining the "crip culture" perspective that it took my breath away.

I can't wait to read the essays, and I expect I'll have more to say as I go.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Book Club: "The Man He Became", Part Three: "Resurrection", and Conclusions

James Tobin - Simon & Schuster, 2013

Part Three: Resurrection

Part Three charts Roosevelt’s political comeback, beginning with his Democratic Convention speech nominating Al Smith for President in 1924, running for and winning the Governorship of New York, mainly as a way of helping Smith in his second presidential run in 1928, then speeding up his long-range plan and running for President himself in 1932, after the Great Depression sunk the once-popular Republican President Herbert Hoover.

Tobin also describes how Roosevelt “discovered” Warm Springs, Georgia, where mineral hot springs provided a unique and effective environment for rehabilitation of people with Polio. Coming between Roosevelt’s 1924 reintroduction to politics, and his 1928 run for the New York Governorship, the Warm Springs experience helped refine his physical recovery goals, while he pursued an unusually self-directed approach to his rehabilitation.

Main themes of Part Three:

1. Where initially, Roosevelt worked towards and believed in “full recovery”, he later developed the idea that if he could walk with only a cane, then he could return fully to politics. This idea, in turn, evolved into a slightly different goal. Regardless of his actual physical capability, if he could manage his appearance and movements so as to put people at ease, then Roosevelt believed that would be enough for him to return to politics.

2. Roosevelt developed a hybrid of two general approaches to his medical and physical situation. He listened to and took seriously the advice of “traditional” medical and rehabilitation experts, but he felt increasingly empowered to choose from among their approaches the ones that he instinctively liked, and which seemed to work for him and others like him. He became a sort of proto-consumer of health care a lot like people today who chart their own course on medical questions.

3. Roosevelt really always had two kinds of goals … physical and political. At first, his political goals would have to wait for him to achieve physical recovery goals. Eventually, the two goals switched in umportantnce. The need to jump and political opportunity forced Roosevelt to change and even interrupt his physical goals. In the end, he pursued physical rehabilitation mainly in order to achieve political ends, not just because he wanted to walk.

4. Tobin discusses whether Roosevelt sacrificed a more complete physical recovery in order to honor Al Smith’s request that he run for Governor. It seems as though Roosevelt, himself thought so.

5. Because the political calendar is fixed, and recovery goals are rarely met on schedule, politics trumped rehabilitation. Roosevelt had to make his nomination speech in 1924, even though he might not have felt ready, because he was asked, and because the event was going to happen regardless. He had to run for Governor in 1924 because that’s when Al Smith needed him, and because 1928 was an election year … not 1929 or 1930. And he ran for President in 1932 because the incumbent President was unexpectedly weak in that election year, creating a unique opportunity that might not come again. At every step, though he would at first beg off, citing his need for further rehabilitation, Roosevelt took the opportunities that arose.

6. Roosevelt was an exceptionally private man, who preferred not to discuss his disability even with his closest friends and colleagues. However, he was unusually open and curious to discuss disability matters with other people who had Polio, both seeking and later giving advice.

7. Political efforts use Roosevelt’s disability against him failed for many reasons. Some accusations were just too outlandish to ever succeed. But another factor was that first political reporters, and later the public, wanted to buy into a great “comeback” story in which Roosevelt was a hard-working hero. People always like that, but during the Depression, that was exactly the kind of person people were looking for to put the country right. People were predisposed at that time to prefer Roosevelt’s positive narrative to the ugly rumors a few opponents hoped would gain traction.

8. Tobin closes by noting that Roosevelt’s way of improvising approaches to his disability were used again by him to fight the Depression. He explicitly said that rather than push any specific policy or ideology, he felt that the thing to do was try things, evaluate the results, make changes, and try new things. That is exactly how he dealt with Polio.

Conclusions

As I see it, Tobin makes three important points in "The Man He Became":

1. Roosevelt achieved the Presidency not in spite of Polio, but in a way because of it. The ordeal made him both stronger and more empathetic. Previously, he was a promising politician, but considered something of a lightweight and an aloof aristocrat. His constant improvisation in dealing with his disability also became the hallmark of his approach to the Presidency and efforts to combat the Great Depression.

2. From today’s perspective we can see in Roosevelt the beginnings of a new set of beliefs about disability that were more fully developed later … the reduction in stigma, the end of erroneous and superstitious beliefs about disability, and the idea that full physical recovery wasn’t the only way a disabled person could live a productive life. Most of all, Roosevelt short-circuited the equation between illness and disability … between weakness and impairment. After Roosevelt, people could conceive of a person being both disabled and strong.

3. FDR didn’t hide his disability. He did not perpetrate a “deception” as the current conventional wisdom now says. Rather, it was a “performance”. Over time, he developed the idea that he didn’t have to appear to be completely cured to return to politics, as long as he could mostly appear to be strong, and govern his movements so as to put people at ease. Through hard rehabilitation work and embracing some innovative approaches, he gained back enough mobility to do this. People could see that he was “crippled”, but in ways that didn’t worry them.

In addition to these, three other things stood out for me, as a person with a disability:

1. Roosevelt probably would have understood “The Spoon Theory” quite well. Polio, itself, started out as a painful, frightening, exhausting “storm” of an acute illness. Exhaustion and the careful economizing of stamina were forever after daily factors in Roosevelt’s life. Reading Tobin’s descriptions of the disease and the work of Roosevelt’s rehabilitation should cause any disabled or chronically ill person to feel a strong bond with Franklin Roosevelt.

2. I love the fact that while Roosevelt was an extremely private person about his own situation, he actively sought and almost reveled in connections with others who had Polio. He was a natural leader, but he was also a good listener and good learner, whether the teacher was a distinguished doctor or a 15 year old kid who had lived with Polio for longer than he had. Without realizing it, Roosevelt was pioneering “Peer Counseling”, not just as an individual pursuit, but in a more formal way at Warm Springs.

3. “The Man He Became” shows that the story of Franklin Roosevelt’s life with Polio doesn’t perfectly fit anyone’s preconceptions or ideology. It is a story of personal bravery and perseverance, and at times a story of confusion, fear, and trial-and-error. Roosevelt was utterly dedicated to his “recovery”, but he was able to remain so partly because his allowed his concept of recovery to change. I found it interesting that the issue that brought this subject up again in the 1990s … the idea of President Roosevelt in a wheelchair … was in some ways pointless, since he rarely used a wheelchair in his daily routine.

Most of all, I think, I’ll remember Tobin’s beautiful, gripping description of Franklin D. Roosevelt waiting to make his nomination speech for Al Smith at the 1924 Democratic Convention. The crowd's reaction was fascinating, but I was thinking more about Roosevelt himself, sitting there hoping he wouldn’t fall down in front of thousands in Madison Square Garden, and hoping the hell someone had thought to nail down the podium he would lean on to give his speech.

Then, having made it to the lectern, Roosevelt smiles and tosses his head, which would become one of his signature moves, because he can't let go of the podium to wave.

Read all three section reviews:

Saturday, February 15, 2014

The Man He Became ... I'm Running Late Again!

I'm going to wait until tomorrow to write my final review of The Man He Became, by James Tobin, so I have time to think some more about what I have read. For now, I'll just say how amazed I am at how many ways Franklin D. Roosevelt was ahead of his time in how he understood and dealt with his disability ... probably not consciously, but quite profoundly.

Book Club Reminder: "The Man He Became", Part Three, "Resurrection"

It’s time for me to “read” (listen to) Part Three of “The Man He Became”, by James Tobin. This evening I’ll post my final review. As I’ve said before, I can already recommend it to anyone with a disability, especially a physical disability. People with chronic illness will also find a lot to relate to in the story of a man who got the most demanding job ever conceived, at the most difficult time possible to be in that job, while coping every day with a massively exhausting disability that started with a horrifically frightening sudden illness.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Book Club: "The Man He Became", Part Two: "He's Through"

Book cover of The Man He Became, with photo of a young Franklin Roosevelt.
James Tobin - Simon & Schuster, 2013

Part Two: "He's Through"

For this second book club installment, looking at Part Two of “The Man He Became”, I’ll highlight the themes of Part Two, roughly in order, along with some of examples and ideas that stood out for me.

1. Tobin looks at the social status and stigmas of disability in the early 20th century.

Some of the prejudices were familiar, but some were new to me. For example, I had never heard of the association at that time between syphillus and paralysis. I found it fascinating that Polio was linked ... incorrectly ... with “dirty” immigrant children and their neighborhoods. Tobin traces the evolution of peoples’ ideas about disability from cruel and superstitious beliefs to more compassionate and scientific ideas … while noting that in the 1920s, there’s nothing yet like a positive view of disability or a “disability rights” perspective.

2. Roosevelt and his circle refine the scope of what “recovery” means.

At first, it means total recovery. Then, walking without crutches or with only a cane. Then being able to navigate essential functions and rituals normally enough to be viable in politics. They really do seem to have adjusted and readjusted their take on Roosevelt’s disability as his condition and long-term prognosis changed.

3. Competing visions of how Roosevelt should spend the rest of his life.

Should he gve up entirely and be bedridden? Will he retire to Hyde park and spend a pleasant life of favorite diversions and light duties managing his estate? He could live an interesting and useful life dabbling in local politics and writing. Or, could he return to big-time politics and his Presidential ambitions? Eleanor didn’t believe early on that he’d ever reach high office again, but felt it was best for him to stay in politics. That sounds like a surrender, but this led to the groundwork being laid for a later rise to the Presidency.

4. Advanced therapy theories and techniques include both the traditional "medical model” and the idea of adaptation for the most fully functional everyday living, whether or not the dream of a “complete recovery” is realized.

I’m impressed that the doctors and therapists aren’t fanatical about Roosevelt walking again, or encouraging total devotion to therapy. Dr. Draper’s unorthodox views probably helped. Roosvelt’s medical team crafted a mixed goal of physical improvement and practical adaptation.

5. Not hiding the truth, but controlling the narrative, both personally and politically.

Tobin continues to paint a picture of improvisation, in which there was never a grand plan to hide the disability, but efforts at various stages to give people the most favorable impression, and to recast what disability meant to people, at least in Roosevelt’s case.

6. Tobin looks at how wheelchairs and crutches were viewed in 1920s society, and the perceived overlapping of illness, weakness, and disability.

Wheelchairs and crutches were symbolic of illness and dependence. Most wheelchairs weren’t designed well for many environments. Early on at least, Roosevelt only used a wheelchair for point to point mobility, not so much because of stigma, but because of poor design. Disability and illness overlapped in peoples’ minds, but not completely. There was a narrow margin of disability that people could interpret as something other than illness. This is the conception of active, productive disability that key people on Roosevelt’s medical team understood and quietly encouraged.

7. Roosevelt reintroduced to politics suit other people’s purposes, but with unexpected results.

Roosevelt was asked to nominate Al Smith, and later to run for governor (he refused the first time) in order to help Al Smith in his quest for the Presidency. The Smith people saw him as an ally from a different camp, and as someone who had political juice, but no power … a potent symbolic figure, but not a threat. So, they inadvertently raised up someone who ended up achieving what Smith couldn't.

8. Roosevelt’s Democratic Convention speech to nominate Smith starts to transform how people process Roosevelt’s disability.

This might be the pivotal moment of the book. Within the span of a single speech, observers went from pity and sadness to admiration and thinking the unthinkable. Tobin recounts beautiful descriptions by Frances Perkins (who would later be Secretary of Labor under Roosevelt). I loved the moment when Roosevelt asked a Pennsylvania delegate standing hear him to “check the podium” to confirm that it was nailed down. The event was somewhat romanticized as time went by, but it does seem true that as the onvention broke down and deadlocked, some people seriously saw Roosevelt as a viable alternative candidate. Afterwards, people certainly said that he’d be a contender in 1928, “if you can get right”.

9. Persistence of the idea that he will have to walk again in order to succeed.

Roosevelt landed on the idea that he could still be President, but he would first have to be able to walk without crutches. This became his criteria, and so far it seems like he thought it was possible, which enabled him to keep on both with his physical therapy and his political activities. At this stage, pursuing both goals in parallel seem in retrospect to have been genius, but of course, at the time it was just another hopeful improvisation. Nobody knew if it would work.

10. Tobin describes the roots of Roosevelt’s dual approach to his disability … private attention to it, public reticence and diversion.

It was a time when “reticence” and privacy were more prevalent for everyone. Tobin provides more insight into the stigma of disability, which was in part a side effect of a general taboo against anything to do with the naked, unprotected, or damaged body, Tobin suggests that part of the excitement at the convention was that by speaking and showing himself publicly, Roosevelt was breaking taboo. At first people felt some revulsion, but then a weakening or breaking of the taboo itself. Roosevelt was a particularly private, “opaque” man,  even for that time. I was struck by Roosevelt’s frequent use of the made-up word, “Infradig” … meaning things not to be talked about. Anything to do with his disability was “Infradig” in normal conversation. There were two exceptions ... he would discuss his condition with medical professionals and with other people who had Polio. Tobin here starts to mention letters Roosevelt exchanged with other people who had Polio … people from all walks of life, who had nothing in common with him except Polio. I was enormously moved to read that this exceptionally private man was so open with details of his life with people he barely knew, because he sought their advice and, eventually, began to offer his advice to them.

11. Roosevelt learns from trial and error, and starts to take control of his recovery.

Roosevelt is at first totally committed to therapy. Eventually, he becomes distracted and a bit diluted by other pursuits. He accidentally discovers that heat and sun help, as well as swimming. He never rejects medical advice, but becomes less dependent on it. Roosevelt starts to seek medical advice he agrees with. Also, he starts to contributes his own study and observation of Polio and its treatment. Without getting too far ahead of things, it sounds to me similar to how he approached the Presidency … listening to the best advice, but also following his own instincts, and above all TRYING STUFF.

12. At the end of Part Two, Roosevelt starts his association with Warm Springs.

Favorite quotes from Part Two:
“Hell, it’s not legs we want in the White House, it’s brains!”
“Wheelchairs were not for people who were leading normal lives. They were for sick people, in hospitals and sanitariums. With an attendant always standing behind him, the man in a wheelchair was by definition not an independent human being who could care for himself.”
"To stand was an act of manhood," Tobin quotes extensively from Emily Post about all the occasions when etiquette demands that a man stand. "Roosevelt could do none of these things."
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Next Saturday, February 16, we'll finish "The Man He Became" with Part Three: "Resurrection"

Saturday, February 1, 2014

Book Club Postponed

Part Two of “The Man He Became” is so packed that I’m having a hard time boiling it down to its essentials, so I’m putting off the next Book Club discussion to next Saturday, February 8. For now, I’ll leave you with a quote from the book, from some un-named Democratic delegate in 1924, after Roosevelt delivers a rousing nomination speech for Al Smith, which did Roosevelt more good than Smith:

“Hell, it’s not legs we want in the White House, it’s brains!”

I think this charismatic young cripple might make a good President someday ...

Friday, January 31, 2014

Book Club Reminder

Book cover for "The Man He Became" with photo of young Franklin Roosevelt
Tomorrow evening I will post the second part of my three-part “Book Club” on James Tobin’s new FDR biography, The Man He Became: How FDR Defied Polio to Win the Presidency. I’ll be discussing Part Two: “He’s Through”.

Part One: “Virus and Host” described how Franklin Roosevelt, a promising Democratic politician with Presidential aspirations, contracted Polio during a summer vacation in Maine, and how he, his family, friends, and political allies learned what the disease might mean for him personally and politically. Tobin suggests that if this was the start of what has been called a “Splendid Deception” to hide Roosevelt’s disability, then it was a very complex, ad hoc, and mutual deception. Nobody really knew how disabled he would be in the long run, FDR himself seemed both to know things were worse than people were saying, and determined to “fully recover”. Several doctors and therapists disagreed over what, exactly should be done. And FDR’s closest, most savvy political aide, Louis Howe, didn’t so much mastermind the hiding of Roosevelt’s disability, as he improvised at each step to put off a larger reckoning that might, or might not have to come. In short, in those first weeks and months after Polio attacked, everyone was just trying to muddle through.

In Part Two, we will see how Roosevelt and his team started coming to terms with the fact that some degree of disability was probably inevitable and possibly permanent. Roosevelt starts to take command of his own rehabilitation. Meanwhile, the ebb and flow of national politics create some key openings for Roosevelt, if he’s able to “walk” through them. He does, in a way, and we will see how.

I can’t say enough for this book. Despite being about one of the most famous figures of the Twentieth Century, it contains a huge amount of information and ideas that will be new to most readers. I find that it also resonates on many frequencies for people with disabilities today. No matter what preconceived feelings you might have about FDR going in, if you are disabled or have people in your family who have disabilities, you will find yourself feeling very personally connected with him as he deals with an almost complete derailment of all his life’s expectations. Even though we know how it turned out for him, there’s real suspense here.

If you want to catch up, I also recommend the audiobook, available from Audible.com.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Book Club: "The Man He Became", Part One: "Virus and Host"

James Tobin - Simon & Schuster, 2013

Part One: "Virus and Host"

“The Man He Became” is fascinating and emotionally engaging. I thought I would learn things I didn’t know before. I sensed that I would agree with some of Tobin’s new conclusions. What I didn’t expect was to feel so personally close to Franklin Roosevelt as he went through his bout with Polio. And I didn’t expect to recognize so many of the social habits, irritations, and forces that FDR had to contend with. The way the story is shaping up, it really does seem like FDR was a forerunner of today’s “social model” of disability, whether or not he knew it or intended to be.

Basic facts and important ideas:

- Franklin Roosevelt was an American aristocrat, a prominent politician, and a definite, if somewhat distant, Presidential hopeful at the time he contracted Polio. He had already served as Assistant Secretary of the Navy through WWI, and run for Vice-President in 1920. Polio was a setback, and could easily have been a career-ender. Polio changed him, but it did not form him from the start as a disability from birth or early childhood does.

- Roosevelt was an enormously privileged man, with a social status and financial resources that few others ever have to help them deal with the onset of severe disability. This proves points in both directions. It puts a bit of a limit on how much we can extrapolate from Roosevelt’s accomplishments to others with disabilities, because most people don’t have nearly the advantages he did. On the other hand, his social status and wealth actually did very little to change the fundamental experience of Polio for him. As Tobin suggests, Roosevelt’s wealth and status may not have even bought him the best medical care, since excellent physicians disagreed about just what to do about Polio at the time. His status certainly didn’t lessen his pain or fear.

- We see the beginnings of what some later historians, such as Hugh Gregory Gallagher, would call his “splendid deception”. In a sense, it started when Howe orchestrated Franklin's departure from Maine back to New York, stage managing things so that reporters never saw him being wheeled, lifted, or transferred, but only saw him settled on the train.

- Despite these very conscious measures of secrecy and misdirection, Tobin asserts that it is far too simple, and essentially inaccurate, to say that Roosevelt “hid” or “covered up” his disability. There was no grand conspiracy, and it wouldn’t have worked if there hand been one. Everyone knew he was disabled in some way, but most people didn’t know the details or extent. Roosevelt and his people used this ambiguity however they could to either obscure or redefine the aspects Roosevelt’s disability they couldn’t hide. Tobin says that when Roosevelt walked to the podium to take the Oath of Office, he wasn’t trying to fool anyone. He was rather making a statement of strength. He never said, “I’m not disabled." He said, instead, “I am strong and capable.”

- If Roosevelt’s people believed, as he did, that he had a good chance to recover, then hiding or obscuring his problem wasn't necessarily the start of a long-term, elaborate deception. They would have thought of it as a short-term measure to get through the crisis as best they could. The permanence of disability sank in over a very long period, so there was probably no single moment of decision, just a series of improvisations that never completely ended. Tobin says that this helped FDR to shape perceptions of his disability as he felt the need, even if there was never a grand plan or strategy.

- Roosevelt was an unusually private, uncommunicative man, even for his day in which reticence was the default character trait of the upper crust. People weren’t in the habit of unburdening their souls to their friends, even spouses, much less the general public. But lots of people kept diaries, wrote long letters to friends, and if successful in life, wrote memoirs. Roosevelt did none of those things, which is astounding given how important he became to American history. We may know less about Franklin Roosevelt’s inner thoughts than we do about any of our Presidents. It seems to me that this had both good and bad implications for how he dealt with Polio and lifelong disability.

- While he was private about his inner self, on the outside Roosevelt was gregarious, both before, and, crucially, after Polio. The way Tobin describes him, Roosevelt reminds me of Bill Clinton … a man who could charm just about anyone, someone who people liked to be around. He was, in a sense, a contradiction … a private extrovert. Is this one of the keys to his handling of disability?

- In Part One of “The Man He Became”, we get to know two of Roosevelt’s most extraordinary allies … his wife Eleanor and his political aide Louis Howe … both of whom made crucial decisions and adjustments to adapt their original objectives to Roosevelt’s new circumstances. Each, in their own way, went “all in” to stick with Roosevelt, without being at all sure of what that would mean or what the goal would be.

- Tobin says that Louis Howe was the first person in Roosevelt’s circle to wonder if he had contracted Polio. He, himself, was a sickly person who was very familiar with doctors, not overly impressed with them, and not intimidated by their reputations. He put Franklin’s uncle, Fred Delano, on the case of finding a doctor with Polio experience. 

- In the weeks after his diagnosis, Eleanor and Louis Howe didn’t tell Franklin the truth about what they’d been told of his condition. This fits my perception of how much more common it was “in the old days” for people to hide painful medical facts from patients. Except I always thought this was just for children and women. Maybe it wasn’t. After all, with the possible exception of his mother, Franklin was clearly “the boss” of the family and of his own developing business / political apparatus. It’s amazing to me that they’d keep anything from him, for any length of time. Here is a man who had already run for Vice President, yet they didn’t think it appropriate to be completely honest with him about his own medical condition.

- We also see how the very definition and understanding of disability given to Roosevelt and his family was complex and ambiguous from the start. Dr. Lovett said, "Disability is not to be feared." Tobin says that he likely meant that Roosevelt would't be bedridden for life, that, in fact, disability might happen, but would not be all-encompassing. He suggests that a doctor familiar with Polio at that time had a generally more positive view of life with the resulting disabilities. If so, that, too would be more progressive a view than I would have given credit for. In any case, the Roosevelts may have thought he meant that disability wouldn't happen. 

- Finally, we get a sympathetic look at the sort of old-fashioned “hard work and perseverance” approach to disability that disabled people today take with a grain of salt. To Howe, Lovett pitched it as dependent on courage and will. Maybe that helps us see why the "courage and perseverance" ideas are so powerful to this day. Medicine then really wasn't that much more of a factor than a person's will and determination. Generations got used to attributing good outcomes to positive attitudes. "Courage and good temper" ... realism, hard work, and good cheer … were values passed to Franklin from his relatives, especially his Uncle Delano, on how a man ought to deal with illness and loss.

- Part One ends with Roosevelt back home in New York City. He still believes that he will fully recover … by which he still means that he will walk without even a cane some day. Howeverm he has begun to sort through the various rehabilitation approaches being offered to him by experts, making tentative decisions of his own based on his own experience and instinct. Tobin suggests, too, that Roosevelt may have begun to doubt what his doctors are telling him, developing a concept of cure that is something less than total or literal. In small but important ways, Roosevelt is becoming a more empowered patient.

My reaction so far:

- I found myself emotionally moved by the description of Roosevelt's pain, and gradual discovery of his creeping paralysis, as he suffered his bout with Polio. Tobin’s descriptions made me feel very empathetic. I imagine lots of the bloggers I read today might feel the same way, especially those with chronic illness, if they read about how, “Even the weight of cotton sheets could be intolerable” to Roosevelt’s legs.

- I was particularly struck by the description of his hard-bitten political fixer, Louis Howe, first massaging his legs with Eleanor, then later reading aloud to him to pass the time. It’s hard to imagine a major politician today being treated this tenderly and loyally by a paid political operative.

- Wouldn’t it be amazing to face ongoing disability hassles with a Louis Howe on your “team"? Some of us do, in a way. We have great parents, spouses, brothers or sisters, best friends. But even these aren’t quite the same thing as what Howe was for Roosevelt … an ultra-competent, ruthlessly practical, loyal but also self-interested agent invested in you, yes, but more than you, your project … your goal. I think that a friend like that may be something a lot of us with disabilities are missing, without really realizing it.

Questions For Discussion:

- What, if anything, did you learn in school about FDR’s Polio and disability?

- How does Roosevelt’s privileged background affect your feelings about him as a disabled role model?

- At what point do you think Roosevelt consciously knew he would probably never walk “normally” again? Or, do you think he never gave up on that goal?

- Do you think that Roosevelt’s “old fashioned”, WASPY-y stoicism helped him or hindered him? Can we draw helpful lessons from his attitude? Or, is it a completely individual thing?

Please feel free to share you thoughts in the comments below, whether you are reading the book with me or not. Though, if you aren't reading "The Man He Became", I highly recommend it.

Friday, January 24, 2014

Book Club Reminder

Tomorrow will be the first installment of my “Book Club”, starting with “The Man He Became”, by James Tobin, a new biography of Franklin Delano Roosevelt focusing on his experience of polio and how it related to his rise to the Presidency. I’ll be giving my first impressions of Part One: Virus and Host. After I have my say, please feel fee to comment, especially if you have read or are reading the book as well. But don’t feel you have to be reading to contribute.

I’ve almost finished the whole book, even though I initially figured I’d tackle one part at a time. It’s that good. I’ll save most of my thoughts for tomorrow, but just say now that I found myself very personally and emotionally connected to Roosevelt as Tobin described the progress of his polio, and his reactions to it. Disability really is a ruthless equalizer. Roosevelt was about as privileged a person as could be found in this country in the 1920s. He was still privileged after contracting polio, but the practical affects were just as gritty and inescapable as they were for anyone, regardless of income or social status. Roosevelt’s wealth gave him tools and supports, but they did virtually nothing to the disease itself, nor even much to his mindset, I think.

Read it. Listen to it. Absorb the book any way you can.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Book Club: "The Man He Became"

Book cover of "The Man He Became", by James Tobin, with photo of FDR as a young man
The Man He Became: How FDR Defied Polio to Win the Presidency
James Tobin - Simon & Schuster, 2013


I have started listening to the audiobook of “The Man He Became”, by James Tobin, a new book about Franklin D. Roosevelt’s experience of disability. Specifically, the book chronicles the onset of Roosevelt’s polio in 1921, his rehabilitation … both medically and politically … and his rise to being elected President in 1932. From what I have read about the book, Tobin refutes a lot of popular ideas about FDR’s disability and how he managed peoples’ perceptions of it.

I will write a review / discussion of each of the book’s three parts, on successive Saturdays:

Saturday, January 25 - Part One: Virus and Host
Saturday, February 1 - Part Two: He’s Through
Saturday, February 8 - Part Three: Resurrection

If anyone has read the book, or would like to read along with me, feel free to comment. You can also email me ahead of time if you like so I’ll know whether to expect other people to join the discussion.

If this first "book club" discussion works out, we can move on to other disability-related books, and I'd be open to suggestions for other books to read and discuss.