This 1992 book is somewhat uneven and could have used some better editing, but it does provide some excellent insights into Abraham Lincoln’s rhetorical style. The author, Lois J. Einhorn, was an Associate Professor of Rhetoric at the State University of New York.
Part of a series on Great American Orators, the book provides a rhetorical analysis of Abraham Lincoln’s speaking. It is useful to note that while several of his speeches are considered great literary works by present day scholars, Lincoln’s actual presentation was generally considered to be unassuming. He spoke slowly and deliberately. His voice was high-pitched, but clear and powerful enough that even listeners who were far away could hear him. He was not particularly animated, remaining largely motionless throughout his speeches. And it usually took a few minutes into his speech before he got into a rhythm.
This last point is one of the reasons that, Einhorn says, Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address was not particularly successful as a speech to the listeners at the event. After listening for two hours to the Edward Everett’s animated speech, most of the crowd was still getting resettled during the less than three minutes of Lincoln’s offering. It simply was over before they were ready to listen, and before Lincoln warmed up. Only over time would the literary genius of the Address come to be appreciated. The chapter dealing with the rhetorical qualities of this speech is one of the best in the book.
Other chapters look at Lincoln’s use of humor, his evolving rhetorical stances on emancipation, and the contrasting responses to his first inaugural address – the North heard conciliation, the South aggression and ridicule. As noted, the writing is a bit uneven but the overall result is some very interesting and thoughtful analysis of Lincoln’s style from the perspective of oratory rather than literary.
The analysis takes up the first half of the book only. The second half provides the full texts of nine of Lincoln’s speeches, ranging from the Lyceum Address to his Second Inaugural Address. This is definitely of interest to those who like to read between the lines of what they hear and read.
David J. Kent is an avid Lincolnophile and the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity. You can order a signed copy directly from me, download the ebook at barnesandnoble.com, and find hard copies exclusively at Barnes and Noble bookstores.
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The sign on the gravel road said “El Chaltén – 372 km.” Twenty minutes later, another sign many kilometers further along the same gravel road, again said “El Chaltén – 372 km.” This was already a long drive on a barely there road, even without the questionable signage. But it was worth it.
Three days into our Patagonian adventure we were headed for El Chaltén, the official Argentinian Trekking Capital. If you’re in El Chaltén it’s because you are there to hike into the mountains or you are there to support those who hike into the mountains. Nestled in the shadow of Cerro Fitz Roy within the confines of Los Glaciares National Park, this small village is all about trekking. And amazing scenery.
Arriving late after the long drive we checked into our cabaña, a wonderful log cabin complete with enough beds and hot showers for the five of us, a serviceable kitchen, and the most amazing wake-up view I’ve had in a long time.
A quick breakfast of toast and dulce de leche (caramelized milk, a staple delicacy in Argentina) and we were on our way to Fitz Roy, which along with Cerro Torre dominates the skyline. Following yet another gravel road meandering along the banks of the Rio de las Vueltas, we stopped several times for the gorgeous views in the crisp mountain air. We were blessed with a beautifully sunny day, a day that would be both memorable and long.
After an 18 km drive we parked near Hosteria El Pilar, a starting location that turned out to be fortuitous for our trip back. Hiking along the Rio Blanco we could see the three-peaked Fitz Roy beckoning us closer.
And closer we came. First we got near enough to see the Piedras Blancas glacier close up. This particular glacier flows from the cirque formed by Fitz Roy and continues to a lower level than glaciers we would see later. In the photo you can see Fitz Roy peeking over the hillock to the left, northeast of where Piedras Blancas reaches its small lake.
Like many glaciers worldwide, the Piedras Blancas glacier is retreating from its historical lengths. One feature that can be seen in the video below – a gorgeous glacial waterfall.
But our main goal was still ahead of us. Our trail totaled about 6 kilometers (each way). Most of the trail was easy hiking, but the last 1.4 kilometers were about as close to vertical as my legs could handle. At least a third of our four-hour trek to Fitz Roy was on this last section going up. What we found when we arrived was simply marvelous.
Sitting at the base of Fitz Roy’s main outcropping, which reaches an elevation of over 3400 meters (11,200 feet), is Lagos de los Tres. We were there in late summer (mid-February), so the glacier had retreated back from the edge of this greenish lake. Following along the lake to the left is another glacier, a waterfall, and another lake. The vista was so engaging that it was 5 pm before we started to think about the four hour hike back to where we parked. That hike ended up taking much longer due to a serious fall resulting in a story I later wrote called “The Break.”
Notwithstanding the added excitement, we had an amazing trek up to Cerro Fitz Roy and the various glaciers. An experience I won’t soon forget. Now, on to the next adventure.
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This book, The Unpopular Mr. Lincoln: The Story of America’s Most Reviled President, is a rather extraordinary look at Abraham Lincoln. And a remarkably pleasant surprise given the uncustomary view of Lincoln, as well as the providence of the author. Larry Tagg is not whom you might expect to be writing a biography of Abraham Lincoln. Some will recognize the name from the music world and Tagg’s band Bourgeois Tagg, or from his many years touring with Todd Rundgren, Hall & Oates, and opening for Robert Palmer, Belinda Carlisle and others. Now a high school English and drama teacher in California, Tagg surprises the reader with his deep understanding of Lincoln and his times. And he tackles an often overlooked and difficult facet of how Lincoln was viewed by contemporaries.
Tagg says that he “found the spectacular animosity against Lincoln irresistible as a subject,” and he shows no inhibition in showing it to us. He is brutally critical and yet fair and respectful, even equitable, in his treatment of Lincoln’s friends and foes. In short, and perhaps contrary to the mythology that has grown up around Lincoln in the century and a half since his assassination, Lincoln was not always looked on kindly by his peers. In fact, many of his peers did not view Lincoln as a peer, but rather a backwoods buffoon incapable of leading the country in its most precarious moment.
As Lincoln emerged onto the national scene, his rivals couldn’t believe that this “ugly, gangly, baboon” could possibly be considered presidential material. That was to be left to the more accomplished (both real and in their own minds) statesmen such as Seward and Chase. While the Republican party had coalesced around the disgruntled members of the former Whigs, the “war Democrats,” the abolitionists, the Radical Republicans, that cobbling together of discordant interests virtually ensured that Lincoln would be attacked from all sides. And attack they did, oft-times viciously. To the Radicals he was an appeaser that acted too slow, to the peace Democrats he was a war-monger, to the southern Democrats and the newly seceded confederacy he was a tyrant. And to the newspapers, which were openly partisan in those days, he was all of the above. Even his own cabinet members plotted against him.
And Tagg lays out all of this for us, warts and all. He documents the letters of General McClellan, who was brashly self-confident, and while he seemed to be good at preparing for battle, never seemed to get around to actually battling (and when he did he failed miserably). McClellan considered Lincoln to be a rather incompetent and classless dolt and made no bones about saying so (at least in letters to his wife). Secretary of the Treasury Chase plotted to push Lincoln aside. Influential newspaperman Horace Greeley tried to get him to drop out of the 1864 election. And those were the ones on Lincoln’s side. The confederacy and the Democrats were even more brutal.
The book is broken down into 32 chapters grouped into four themes: Lincoln’s entrance into the national political scene, his first 18 months in office, the changes in attitude leading up to and following the Emancipation Proclamation, and then the reelection in 1864. Wound into these themes are the key events of the war, which correlate to some extent with the ebb and flow of Lincoln’s popularity (or more accurately, military victories gave some respite from the seemingly constant barrage on his presidential ability). Finally, Tagg leaves us with an Epilogue whose title perhaps explains how we have reached the view of Lincoln that most people have today – The Sudden Saint.
I highly recommend this book as a respectful and scholarly treatment of contemporary adversity heaped upon Abraham Lincoln. Unlike other books that I have reviewed in which Lincoln’s negatives are viewed in the light of current ideologies and biases, Tagg presents a glimpse into the realities of the times while acknowledging the foibles and humanity of all involved.
David J. Kent is an avid Lincolnophile and the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity. You can order a signed copy directly from me, download the ebook at barnesandnoble.com, and find hard copies exclusively at Barnes and Noble bookstores.
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I’ve recently returned from a science traveling expedition to Argentina. The trip was an incredible experience and I’ll be writing about it more here and elsewhere over the weeks. You can already read about drinking mate and other highlights beginning here (scroll for more).
The trip was a long time coming. I first met my friend Pablo in Connecticut in 1980, where we joined a dozen other students for a semester at the Bermuda Biological Station for Research. We’ve been friends ever since despite the distance, and he’s been inviting me to visit him in his native Argentina for many (many) years. This year I finally did it.
After two flights and more than 14 hours in the air, Ru and I arrived in Buenos Aires, the first time south of the equator for either of us. We would go a lot further south before we were finished, but first there was two rainy days in the capital. Buenos Aires is more European than South American, and seemed to want to copy other cities more than innovate. Then the real trip began. We flew to Bariloche. [Hover over each stop in the map below, and click on the arrow button to follow the travel route.]
Bariloche, to be exact, is San Carlos de Bariloche, in Rio Negro Province, the northernmost part of Patagonia. Pablo has been a Professor at the National University there for the last 25 years, where he is Director of the fisheries resources group. We arrived in the late morning of an extremely windy day in late-summer, a refreshing change from the long, cold, snowy winter of February back home. One night to relax, then off to begin a road trip that would end up being over 3500 kilometers.
I’ll talk more about them in future posts, but Bariloche and environs boasts two amazing geological features – mountains and lakes. The views were extraordinary. And yet, they were only a preamble to what we were about to experience.
Bariloche – Nahuel Huapi Lake
With short stops in the scenic towns of El Bolson (“the best ice cream in the world”) and Esquel, we drove some of the most inhospitable “roads” in Argentina. Called a highway, much of Ruta 40 is actually a long gravel road. Long as in we drove a couple of hundred kilometers on piles of rocks in which tracks were our only guide. Pablo’s previous explanation that he, like most Patagonians, had installed metal plates on the underside of his SUV, suddenly became all too rational. Besides the constant clanging of rocks, the road would often detour into oblivion. It reminded me how whiny we Americans can be over a few potholes. Perspective is everything.
In any case, we finally arrived at Los Antiguos after midnight, then couldn’t find our lodgings. Eventually the owner came to get us and we settled in for a short, but comfortable, rest before our next day’s adventure. After much awe at the surrounding mountains and lakes we headed over to the amazing colors of the rocky desert, where we stayed the night at the Estancia Cueva de las Manos (The Cave of the Hands Ranch).
Near Cueva de las Manos
We visited the actual caves the next morning. After a long 17-km drive on gravel roads, gawking at choiques (ostrich-like birds) and guanacos (llama-like camelids) along the way, we hiked down, then up, a deep valley to reach the amazing caves full of painted hands.
Cueva de las Manos
Another long drive split between paved and gravel roads brought us to El Chalten, the “Trekking National Capital” of Argentina. Dominating the skyline is Mount Fitz Roy, named after the captain of Darwin’s HMS Beagle. The five of us hiked over 5 kilometers, the last 1.4 km of which were essentially vertical, to reach the picturesque lake below the peak. Four of us hiked all the way back. Pablo hiked back all but the last couple of kilometers, after which he was carried out on a stretcher. But that’s a story for another post.
Mt. Fitz Roy is top right.
The next day we drove from El Chalten to El Calafate (well, Pablo’s daughter drove, I rode in the ambulance with Pablo), then spent a much needed relaxed night in a dormis, complete with an Argentine-style lamb cooked over an open fire. Then, the glacier.
Perito Moreno glacier
The Perito Moreno glacier may be the most famous glacier in the world. It’s massive. And better yet, it is situated such that it splits two lakes and pushes up against an accessible island where visitors can get up close. As the glacier retreats slightly during the summer melt, it provides a front-row seat for thousands of people to see huge chunks of ice calving off the face. A truly unforgettable experience.
All of this so far occurred in just one week of traveling. The final week was less busy – a long two-plus day drive across lower Patagonia, up the coast, and back to Bariloche for several days of local flavor. Twice I came close to going into Chile (within a few kilometers at one point), but that pleasure will have to wait until my next visit.
And there will be a next visit. Pablo and I have begun discussing possibilities that would result in more frequent visits on my part. Besides seeing Chile I also still need to get to Argentina’s Iguazu Falls, the Mendoza wine region (I love malbec), and Ushuaia (the southernmost city in the world).
Come back for more detailed stories and photos from the trip. You won’t want to miss them.
David J. Kent is an avid traveler and the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity. You can order a signed copy directly from me, download the ebook at barnesandnoble.com, and find hard copies exclusively at Barnes and Noble bookstores.
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On January 11, 2014 I attended the Second Annual Tesla Memorial Conference at the New Yorker Hotel in New York City. Sponsored by the Tesla Science Foundation, the conference celebrates the life of Nikola Tesla. While there I was interviewed on video by three different groups. Two of those interviews have been posted.
The success of the book has been incredibly gratifying. More and more people are learning about Tesla. In fact, the theme of the conference was to develop a curriculum for teaching about Nikola Tesla in schools, and my book could play an important role in that curriculum.
The second video is called The Spirit of Tesla. Filmed and produced by James Jaeger, it provides a broader look at the conference. My interview with Marijana Vujkovic is featured throughout, with my first appearance at about the 3:00 minute mark.
I was happy and proud to have the chance to participate in the Tesla Memorial Conference for the second year in a row. I’m looking forward to the next conference in Philadelphia this summer, just in time for the release of the second printing of Telsa: The Wizard of Electricity in July. My ebook about Tesla’s advocacy of renewable energy is also due out in late May, so be sure to come back to check on progress.
David J. Kent is an avid traveler and the author of Tesla: The Wizard of Electricity. You can order a signed copy directly from me, download the ebook at barnesandnoble.com, and find hard copies exclusively at Barnes and Noble bookstores.
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The pronunciation of “mate,” by the way, is MAH-Tay. Mate is a tea-like infusion made from the Yerba plant (pronounced Jerba). And it was one of the highlights of my recent trip to Argentina.
While not as formalized as the Japanese tea ceremony, or as regimented as the British tea time, the drinking of mate is a cultural phenomenon in Argentina and other parts of South America. It exemplifies and strengthens the social bond between friends. Why? Because you share the same cup.
Gourd, actually. The “cup” is actually a hollowed out gourd, often decorated with leather and metal rims or other designs. Everyone also drinks through the same metal straw called a bombilla.
Before we drink, let’s back up a bit. Unlike tea leaves, Yerba is an evergreen shrub, a species of holly. It has been sipped for centuries by native populations of South America. Like tea, yerba is dried and cut into small pieces. It is then steeped in hot, but not boiling, water. The temperature is important. Boiling the water brings out the bitterness of the Yerba plant, a taste that most non-Argentinians probably wouldn’t like. Hot water – about 80°C – is perfect for enhancing the flavor of mate without “burning” the leaves.
The social context of drinking mate is also important. Sharing mate is an act of hospitality. A single person takes on the responsibilities of the cebador (or cebadora), the preparer of the mate for that session. After drinking the first gourd-full or two, the cebador refills the gourd with water and passes it to the next person, who drinks it down fully. The gourd is returned to the cebador, who refills and passes to the next in line. The yerba leaves remain for each gourd-full, only the water is refilled each time. After each person gets their drink, the circuit repeats for as long as people want mate – or the hot water runs out.
If someone no longer wants any mate, they simply say gracias (thank you) when they hand back the gourd.
The drinking of mate is so ingrained in the Argentinian culture that travelers can be assured that any suitable establishment (restaurants, bars, even gas stations) will happily refill your mate thermos with the correct temperature water, for free. Naturally caffeinated, the mate was a welcome companion as we traveled nearly 3500 kilometers by car around Patagonia. More importantly, mate exemplified the friendships, old and new, forged on this trip. I’m looking forward to returning to see more of Argentina and South America. I thank my old friend Pablo and his two daughters for showing us such a wonderful time…and also for the best gift I could have asked for – a mate gourd and mate to take home.
I’ll have much more on my Argentina adventure. If you missed them, check out my photos from the road here, here, here, and here.
I’m still out science traveling in Argentina with access by iPhone only. Yesterday I toured around the lake in Bariloche. One of the more interesting aspects was the remnants of the big 2011 volcanic eruption from Chile (the border is only a few kilometers from here).
See that sand alongside the stream? It’s not sand. It’s pumice from the volcano.
The ash was so thick it raised water levels for months. The water covered the roots of the stream side trees, hence the dead trees in the picture below.
On the lake itself the pumice, volcanic rock that is lighter than water, floats.
The beach of the lake is more pumice, at least 10-20 cm of it. That’s my host hopping across the ash/sand. And yes, there’s a story behind the broken leg. I’ll cover that when I get back to the states.
That’s all for now. Keep in mind these photos are all from my iPhone; the best photos are on the other two cameras. So much more to come.
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Before the trekking, we needed sustenance.
Mount Fitz Roy (think, Darwin). Hiked up to this place. Quite an adventure. Turns out coming down was an adventure too. More on that when I return.
Then the Perito Moreno glacier. And there is much more. Will check in when have access again.
Believe it or not, this is the ceiling at the local mall.
And this is from the Teatro Colon, named after Christopher Columbus.
The inside of the Teatro Colon. It rivals La Scala.
More on the science of the Teatro soon.
Well, I’ve arrived in Buenos Aires. Here is my first view coming in on the plane.
As you can see, the weather isn’t exactly cooperating. Overcast yesterday afternoon when I took this photos. Today is something out of Noah – flashes of lightning, huge crashes of thunder, and rain that fluctuates between steady light and demonstrable deluge.
From yesterday, a monument in Plaza de Mayo.
So far the city is more European than South American. First it seemed like Greece or Rome.
The Casa Rosada (Pink House) is where Evita made her famous song (or was that Madonna).
A cool bridge that is supposed to capture the sweeping arms and legs of tango dancers. You have to have a good imagination here.
Other locations had an obelisk that looked like the Washington monument in an intersection that looked like a mini Times Square. Then a pedestrian shopping street with people constantly hawking “cambrio,” which reminded me so much of Nanjing East Road in Shanghai I wanted to reply Bu Yao.