Bill Bryson centers on the summer of 1927 – a seminal season, but not an innocent one.
In 1927, Charles Lindbergh, all but unknown several weeks earlier, became the first person to fly alone across the Atlantic Ocean. His trip from New York to Paris took 33 and a half hours in the Spirit of St. Louis, a plane lacking brakes as well as fuel gauge.Skip to next paragraph
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Overnight, Lindbergh became the most famous, adored man in America, lavished with teeming parades, honors, and awards.
Much of the South, meanwhile, remained awash in the Great Flood of the Mississippi River. Herbert Hoover, the commerce secretary who had become a national figure after leading the world’s most successful humanitarian effort in Europe during World War I, established a headquarters in Memphis to aid the recovery. Despite Hoover's relentless self-promotion and earlier achievement in relief campaigns, the results were mixed.
The Mississippi River remained in flood stage for 153 days. Among the more notable effects: 16.6 million acres flooded, 203,504 buildings lost or ruined, and 637,476 people left homeless.
During these same months of 1927, the United States produced 80 percent of all the movies and 85 percent of the cars worldwide. The nation also added more phones on annual basis – 781,000 in 1926 – than Britain had overall.
These and other statistics, facts, and anecdotes fill One Summer: America, 1927 by Bill Bryson. Known for blending nonfiction wonder with humorous asides and rescued nuggets of history, Bryson enjoys a slew of digressions and side trips while pawing through the attic of 86 years ago.
Some have already noted the many topics explored here have been explained and examined in greater detail elsewhere. And, too, that Bryson breaks little new ground.
True enough, but for those of us lacking the time or inclination to read separate, lengthier studies of Calvin Coolidge, the Red Scare of 1919 and 1920, Hollywood's move into talking motion pictures, and the near-death of major league baseball, “One Summer” offers a brief, lively primer on these subjects and more.
How many of us remember – or ever knew – that a novelist named Harold Bell Wright outsold fellow 1920s writers F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, James Joyce, Ezra Pound, Virginia Woolf, T.S. Eliot, Gertrude Stein, and Dorothy Parker combined? Then again, as Bryson makes clear, Harold Bell Wright paled in sales next to Zane Grey and Edgar Rice Burroughs, whose books sold an estimated 25 million to 60 million copies between the two of them.
All of this and still no mention of the Jazz Age. Critics, of whom there were many, dubbed what we now regard as a singular American art form “pathological, nerve-irritating, sex-exciting music.”
Lest any reader think 1927 a simpler time, a calmer time aided by Prohibition, Bryson puts such thinking to rest again and again.