Lincoln-guilt has symptoms including the following: entering Barnes & Noble, spotting a huge new biography of Abe and, believing it is your civic duty to read it and somehow get closer to the great man, coughing up $30 or more. I have done this repeatedly since I was twelve years-old and now have many excellent Lincoln books partly read or unstarted but holding places of great honor in my book shelves. This year is the 200th anniversary of his birth and new books on every conceivable facet of his life have been appearing every other day. Book store visits have, therefore, become hell on earth as I try to make my life more manageable and be satisfied with the archive I've already got.
Salvation came yesterday in Abraham Lincoln, a 64-page brand new bio by James McPherson, an esteemed Civil War scholar who wanted to show that a very short but thorough book on Lincoln could be produced. I was impressed by all the blurbs on the back cover written by names with whom I am very familiar--they are the authors of all those big books at home--and by the price--thirteen bucks. This is a book to be read in one sitting, any day now.
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