Giants: The Parallel Lives of Frederick Douglass & Abraham Lincoln

John Stauffer has written a rather incredible book. And while it is not exactly the dual biography it has been touted as, the whole is still much larger than the sum of the parts: It is timely, well researched and nuanced; and accomplishes the tricky task of following the parallel lives of these two preeminent self-made men until they converge. And then it explores the importance of that convergence to the development of our democracy during the period surrounding the Civil War. Stauffer whets our appetites by pointing out the numerous similarities between these two giants of American history: they were both dirt poor, self-made and self-taught men who read the same books and had fights that helped shape their adult lives, as they went on to grow into larger than life speakers, writers and national icons. However, the main menu of this presentation is how these two men -- with such similar personal backgrounds, but with such equally dissimilar political backgrounds (Douglass was a revolutionary; Lincoln a political conservative) - were nevertheless eventually drawn into the same political orbit where out of necessity, they came to trust, admire and then even to depend on each other. This book then is about how their separate lives converged and were intertwined to produce the greater good for the American nation. Both had to evolve and first transform themselves before they could help transform the country. But Stauffer's greatest contribution to American history is in re-humanizing Lincoln. This author, (as was the case with the much more difficult book "Force into Glory, by Lerone Bennett) dispels forever the mostly romanticized fiction of Lincoln as being a flawless and unquestioning champion of Black rights. In fact, the one thing consistent about Lincoln was that he "was a man of his times" in regards to the issue of race. That is to say he was more concerned with saving the union than with freeing the slaves. In fact, the point at which the two lives began to converge was when Douglass started writing about Lincoln's backward and racist attitudes and political positions towards blacks, in his abolitionist newspaper. Among the things that upset Douglass most about Lincoln was the fact that Lincoln ran for re-election as Congressman from Illinois on promises to strictly enforce the dreaded and draconian fugitive slave laws. Douglass was even more bitter over the fact that when Lincoln was reelected he refused to support a bill to emancipate Blacks in Washington D.C. Douglass also wrote about Lincoln's support of the aborted first draft of the 13th Amendment, which advocated enshrining within the Constitution slavery for blacks in perpetuity. Later, in his second inaugural address, Lincoln made clear that although he personally hated slavery, he did not want to free the slaves if it meant upsetting the social status quo. He preferred gradual emancipation: over a period of 100 years or so. In addition, Lincoln insisted that slave owners

With the hindsight that makes for history filled out and fully viewed, we can make linkages that, in their time, might not have been apparent or apropos. Such is the case with GIANTS, the linkage between two great men whose contemporaneous lives filled the stage with action, philosophy and legacy, but who, in their lifetimes, were neither close friends nor fellow travelers. John Stauffer, a professor of English at Harvard and author of several noted history books (METEOR OF WAR: The John Brown Story, and THE BLACK HEARTS OF MEN: Radical Abolitionists and the Transformation of Race), has highlighted here the similarities between the rough-cut, self-educated Civil War president, Abraham Lincoln, and the renowned human rights autodidact, agitator, orator and editor, freed slave Frederick Douglass. Both men sought to break free from the limitations of their childhood circumstances, fought literally and figuratively for what they believed and were admired as great strategists on the battlefields they found themselves on. Both were alcohol- and tobacco-free at a time when nearly all men indulged in both habits. Both had numerous sexual liaisons, and both loved poetry. One man was tasked with uniting a nation torn apart by the onerous stigma of human slavery, and the other was charged with exhorting his people to free themselves from that stigma and rise above it. Both had some success and some notable failures. Douglass wrote his autobiography, MY BONDAGE AND MY FREEDOM, and it is a remarkable work. Simple, articulate and honest to a painful degree, it clearly delineated what it meant to be a slave in America. A tall, strong adolescent, Douglass learned early on that even his benign masters (and there were several, possibly because he had been fathered by one of their extended family) did not shrink from sending him out to work for people with a cruel streak and a taste for torture. His benign masters were forced by the strictures of presumed white superiority to allow the young man to be flayed bloody and to defend the rights of the men who did the whipping. That a person in their care could starve, hide and wait long nights in terror rather than face another such punishment did not seem outrageous to his white owners. Douglass was smarter than many slaves and not bound by superstition. His young life reached a turning point when one overseer engaged him in a physical fight and was unable to win after four hours of continuous exertion. Though that victory did not bring release to the slave, it did instill in him the courage to overcome a master whose weakness was now obvious. He tried over and over again to escape and finally succeeded, only to face the deprivations of a runaway until he was made a free man by legal means and was able to begin a self-actualizing life at last. With his eloquence and passion, partly learned by observing black revival preachers of the time and also liberally sprinkled with sharp humor, Douglass quickly rose to promine

As the nation's preeminent scholar of interracial friendship, John Stauffer turns in Giants from his previous prize-winning work on abolitionist friends to offer the first collective biography of the two preeminent self-made men in American history: Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln. That previous book, The Black Hearts of Men, was a hard act to follow but Stauffer goes even further here in Giants. Vivid, insightful, exceptionally well-researched and beautifully written, Giants restores to both mythic figures their complexity, ambiguity, and humanity, giving us an entirely fresh vision of two individuals who transformed themselves before they could transform society. Just as exciting, though, is the parallel narrative of national identity. As Stauffer reflects one giant off the other, we see in their intersecting lives a national journey toward the Second Revolution of the 1860s. This braided story of Lincoln and Douglass, one of change and self-making, alliance and conflict, faith and loss, is the nation¿s own story of bonds and betrayals during the nineteenth century. In fact, while other books might focus on Douglass and Lincoln's politics during the Civil War, only Stauffer examines the bigger picture: the ways they made and remade themselves and the nation their lives, loves, friendships, and the whole nature of love and friendship in the Civil War era. He weaves together themes of historical memory, race, gender, loyalty and forgiveness, empathy, outsiders, and the boundaries of the personal and political. The book therefore gives us a deeper, fuller picture of both men's lives and characters, and also a window on a whole era. This is history and biography written in glorious techicolor: set against Douglass, Lincoln comes alive anew - and vice versa - but so too does the intense drama of the time. And that history is a living drama: after the election of Barack Obama, a man who is said to transcend race but also has finally replaced Lincoln (and Clinton) as the nation's first 'black president,' has publicly grappled with the changing nature of his own friendships, and acknowledges the political and personal inspiration of both Douglass and Lincoln, we might find in Stauffer's dazzling page-turner a framework for understanding the story of Obama and ourselves in 2008. I cannot recommend this book highly enough.

This is a brilliant and deeply moving book. There is no reason for me to repeat the praise others have so justly given it, but I would like to mention one feature that has not yet been pointed out. Stauffer's prose reads with the same brilliance of a powerful novelist's prose. I hate to use a cliché, but I couldn't put it down. I opened it planning to read a bit and then go on to other things I had to do that afternoon. But I read into the evening and then the following days until I quickly finished it. It is not merely the beauty of Stauffer's prose style that pulls the reader in, but also his skillful handling of the two narratives he unfolds. Even though I knew the general facts of both men's lives, I was captivated by the way Stauffer developed their characters, and I kept wanting to know what was going to happen next. John Stauffer is not only a major historian, he is also a great story teller.

In this beautifully written, lyrical book, Stauffer tells the story of the two preeminent self-made men in American history: Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln. He gives new understanding to the concept of self-making, a central metaphor in the American experience, and reframes our understanding of these two literary and political giants who rose up from slave and dirt poor backgrounds through language. Using words as weapons, they reshaped their world and gave inspiration and hope to future generations. GIANTS will make you laugh, it will bring you close to tears, and it will show you what's possible through hard work, faith, luck, and the power of language. It will give you the courage to continue striving, to remain audaciously hopeful even in the face of daunting odds, and to continually remake yourself, much as Douglass and Lincoln did. It is a book for our time.