Early in the book’s introduction, Chernow makes an ambitious goal: that this book would be able to bring not only a detailed and holistic view on Washington’s life, but that it would appropriately and fully humanize him.
Washington, to folks like me, and I would imagine to many others, has been treated by history (unfairly) as a less dynamic figure than that of other founding fathers. Of course, history appropriately places his achievements and contributions more or less as they should be — central to the success of the American Revolution, and central to the early structure of the American way of life and democracy. But there is a schism there — why is it that Washington has remained a somewhat enclosed, stoic, and perhaps monolithic figure in history, and how could that be consistent with his life narrative?
Chernow shows that it was an interesting mixture of Washington’s own actions. Washington was, more than any prominent figure of early American history, able to use silence and withdrawal as a means of acquiring and exercising power. His skill, one that he used significantly to lead the Continental Army and become the first president of the United States, was to never let anyone know what he was thinking, and always be the last person in the room to speak. Yes, Washington in his early life obtained significant financial status partially through a series of 5 tragic yet cosmically significant deaths in his family, and yes there were certainly bouts of significant luck that he encountered. Yet overall Chernow shows Washington to be a prolific strategist; he one with his own opinions, his own intellectual vigor and his own significant temper, but he was also one who knew how to shut all of those away to his advantage. Transposed against the Adams’ and Jefferson’s of Early American history, this was a fascinating quality to focus on as I read.
The book was thorough and long (904 pages), but Chernow needs to space to go into the depth of research he had to offer, and it pays off.