Showing posts sorted by relevance for query 1947. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query 1947. Sort by date Show all posts

Saturday, April 22, 2017

Road to the Sea by Florence Dorsey

James B. Eads was a prominent 19th Century civil engineer who was based in St. Louis most of his long career. The mark of his work can still be found on the Mississippi River more than a century after his death in 1887. Florence Dorsey’s 1947 biography, Road to the Sea, recounts his life and accomplishments.

Eads came to St. Louis with his family in 1833 at the age of 13. They were coming by river from Louisville, Kentucky, to set up shop in greener pastures ahead of his father, Col. Thomas Clark Eads, who moved westward from one failed venture to the next. The ship that carried them caught fire just as they arrived in St. Louis and all their possessions burned up with it.

The family needed the support of the enterprising boy, so he had no opportunity to go to school. He read voraciously, though, borrowing books from an employer, Barret Williams, whose collection included many books on scientific and mechanical subjects.

Eads decided to stay in St. Louis when his family moved upriver to Iowa. He was on his own at age 17, but maturing into a man who would have success as an engineer, businessman and builder.

Eads career began to flourish when, at age 22, he designed and had built a boat with a diving bell. He eventually launched a fleet of bell boats that supported his salvage business. He salvaged wrecks and cargo from the Mississippi and its tributaries. He spent a lot of time in the river and began to know it very well.

By the time the Civil War broke out he had retired from salvaging and enjoying his wealth, but he risked his own fortune to secure the Mississippi River for the Union. He built ironclad gunboats to guard the river and attack Confederate fortifications. America’s military leaders weren’t sure what to make of them at first, but as the war progressed his ships were in great demand.

Eads found it frustrating to deal with Washington politicking and bureaucracy, especially in the U.S. Army. In his post-war endeavors he regularly had opposition from the Army Corps of Engineers and its chief, Andrew A. Humphreys.

These ventures were daring feats of engineering that were aimed at improving the commerce of the Mississippi valley. He built the world’s first steel arch bridge at St. Louis that would connect the city to the east by railroad (and got soaked by his contractor, Andrew Carnegie, while he was at it). He opened a route through the mud at the mouth of the Mississippi River that gave passage from the middle of the country to the ocean and helped make New Orleans a major port. In both these efforts he faced opposition and meddling from the Corp of Engineers.

In his last days he proposed to build a railroad across Mexico’s Tehuantepec isthmus to permit shorter passage from the Atlantic (i.e., the Mississippi) to the Pacific Ocean. His proposal was a serious alternative to Ferdinand de Lesseps’ Panama Canal. Though others took up the cause, Eads’ ship railroad proposal practically died with him. The Panama Canal didn’t fare much better at the time; the United States didn’t take over the project until 1904 and it didn’t open until 1914, de Lesseps’ plan for a tide-level canal with no locks having been abandoned.

As an engineer and Missourian, I’m fascinated by Eads and his extraordinary career.  I would recommend Dorsey’s book to anyone looking for an interesting and little-known bit of history.

If you’re interested in this book, you also be interested in


Dorsey, Florence. Road to the Sea: The Story of James B. Eads and the Mississippi River. New York: Rinehart & Company, 1947.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

The Thin Man (Film)

The Thin Man. Writ. Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich. Dir. W. S. Van Dyke. With William Powell and Myrna Loy. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 1934.

This film is based on the excellent Dashiell Hammett book of the same title. It was so popular MGM made five sequels from 1936 to 1947: After the Thin Man, Another Thin Man, Shadow of the Thin Man, The Thin Man Goes Home and Song of the Thin Man. The writers changed, but most of the films were directed by W. S. Van Dyke and all of them starred William Powell and Myrna Loy as the charming couple, Nick and Nora Charles.

It is the charm of the Charles’ that makes the movies such a pleasure to watch. The characters have great chemistry Hammett’s book; Powell and Loy bring it to the screen. Part of their charm comes from their witty banter. I think part of it comes from the happy marriage of the couple. They delight in each other, tolerate each other’s weaknesses and gently push each other to be better. And though they fit traditional gender roles, as you would expect at the time the films were made, and it is clear that Nick is a professional detective and Nora an amateur, they seem more equal than most fictional couples in today’s films and television.



As a series, the films handle the couple in another unusual way. They age. They age naturally. In the first pair if films, as in the book, Nora is a young heiress and Nick older and worldlier. In the middle pair of films, they’re parents of a young son. By the last film, they’re an established couple and even Nora can’t follow the slang of the hipster characters.

The chemistry between Powell and Loy is great. Some other quality actors appear in the films as well, like Maureen O’Sullivan in The Thin Man. The sequels include performances from James Stewart and Keenan Wynn. Some uncredited (and not as great) appearances include Shemp Howard and a guy who I think might be Tor Johnson.

The crime solving in The Thin Man sticks close to the book, but adapted to work well on film. As crime stories, the sequels vary in quality, complexity and suspense. If you’re looking for a great mystery, you may want to look elsewhere. Crime solving is the backbone of the plots of these films, but the plots are largely an excuse to watch Nick and Nora do their thing.

(Thanks, Roger, for loaning me the box set of these films on DVD.)

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Planck by Brandon R. Brown

German physicist Max Planck was one of the most famous and well-respected scientists of his day. His work formed the foundation of quantum mechanics and is still relevant to physics today. He lived through both world wars, and these resulted in tragedy for his family.

Planck is a brief biography of the man by another physicist, Brandon R. Brown. Brown focuses his book on the last years of World War II, but from there reaches far back to his subject’s birth in 1858 and forward a little to his death in 1947. It is interesting that Brown did not choose to take a chronological approach given that entropy and the irreversibility of time were subjects of great interest to Planck. Perhaps he wants to readers to be somewhat unsettled, no doubt the way Planck must have been unsettled by events of his lifetime and the conclusions younger scientists drew from his own theories.

Brown presents Planck and as a flexible thinker who contributed to physics and accepted new theories at an age when most of his contemporaries were ready to shut the books on what could be learned. Apparently what most of us like to think of as middle-aged (at worst) is ancient for a physicist. His own work on thermal radiation established fundamental concepts of quantum theory, though he didn’t use the term “quanta.” When a young Albert Einstein proposed his special theory of relativity, Planck quick promote and build on it. He was slower to come around to general relativity (as wild as it is to us, it was insane to many in that time), and both men suffered philosophical heartburn from the quantum mechanics served up by the generation that came up under them.

Planck was very loyal to his country. His brother Hermann died in the Franco-Prussian War, and the family became intensely patriotic. At the start of World War I, he was hopeful that the war might strengthen and unify Germany. His oldest son, Karl, died at Verdun, and Germany fell on hard times.

Things were more complex when the Nazis took power. At times, his reputation as the nation’s most prominent scientist gave him leeway to resist anti-Semitic policies. At other times he acquiesced, hoping that the excesses of Nazi policies would be smoothed out or even reversed by the necessities of governing and the needs of the nation. He was so hopeful he even encouraged Jewish colleagues to stay. The Nazis saw no need for moderation, so Planck’s influence quickly waned. His son, Erwin, became involved in a resistance movement that hoped to topple the Nazis. He was implicated in a plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. Though the Planck family appealed to every ear in and around the Nazi regime that might have sympathy, Erwin was convicted and eventually hanged. (Planck survived his first wife and four of his five children).

Brown doesn’t judge Planck too harshly, though some might. He had no love for the Nazis, but perhaps too much love for Germany, its scientific achievement, and its international standing, may have made him reluctant to boldly oppose them. This led to a break in his relationship with Einstein, though the younger eminence spoke very kindly of Planck even many years later. Because of he refused to embrace the Nazis, and he was well-liked by many foreign scientists, the Allies gave him a place in rebuilding the German scientific establishment after the war. The British, French, and Americans reorganized scientific institutes into the Max Planck Society, which is still active in supporting all manner of scientific endeavor.

I think the book is approachable for most adult readers who may have an interest in Planck or his times. Brown does not get so deep so deep into the science that he loses readers; he tries to explain it in a way that will make sense to a general audience. The structure of the book may make it difficult for a young reader to follow.

If you’re interested in this book, you may also be interested in


Brandon R. Brown. Planck: Driven by Vision, Broken by War. New York: Oxford University Press, 2015.

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Miss Mizzou by J. B. Winter

Miss Mizzou was a secondary character in the Steve Canyon comic strip. She may not have stood out from the other bombshells in the cartoon pilot’s adventures, but she made quite an impression on the university from which she took her name (my alma mater, the University of Missouri) and the town that proudly housed it (Columbia). J. B. Winter talks about the girl in the overcoat (and maybe nothing else) and her impact in a mid-Missouri community in his book Miss Mizzou: A Life Beyond Comics.

Milton Caniff was a very well regarded cartoonist. His work on Terry and the Pirates was an inspiration to many in the field. He left that strip in 1947 to start another adventure comic, Steve Canyon, which he would own. He spoke at the University of Missouri in 1949. It bore the nicknamed Mizzou even before then though the university did not officially embrace it until 2004. Caniff apparently enjoyed the trip because he chose Mizzou as the name of a character he introduced in 1952, and made Columbia her hometown.

Caniff took inspiration from waitress he knew as a student at Ohio State University, Marilyn Monroe, and, more directly, dancer and model Bek Stiner. Miss Mizzou, played by Stiner, appeared was introduced on television before appearing in newspapers. Caniff and Stiner, in the characters overcoat, appeared on the Bob Considine Show about a month before her adventure with Canyon ran.

Columbians and Mizzou students jumped on the opportunity to celebrate. The Missouri Student Government Association organized publicity events that Stiner attended over a weekend about a month after the character appeared in newspapers. In 1954, a journalism fraternity proposed a Miss Mizzou-themed contest and calendar as a fundraiser; Caniff agreed to let them do it. The contest ran from 1955 to 1971, and the skits that became associated with it were popular.

Winter’s slender book is a quick read, but still very informative. He concentrates mostly on the character’s impact on the titular school and city than on her adventures in the comics. Even so, comics fans may enjoy the book because few character have been embraced by community in this fashion or had such an influence

If you’re interested in this book, you may also be interested in


Winter, J. B. Miss Mizzou: A Life Beyond Comics. Lexington, KY: CreateSpace, 2014.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

The Secret History of Wonder Woman by Jill Lepore

Wonder Woman is one of most popular comic book characters. Because she is about to be featured in a film that will bring Batman and Superman together in epic battle, and is expected to be featured in a film of her own, the Internet is already beginning to buzz with concern over how badly she may be portrayed and hopes that the filmmakers will get her right. She has starred in some great stories, but often the stories about her have disappointed for various reasons. The difficulty of depicting a woman superhero has its roots in sorting out the roles of women in society, something we’re still working on. It is a struggle Wonder Woman was born to fight.

Jill Lepore explores the birth of this female superhero in The Secret History of Wonder Woman. In one of her various comics origins, the demigoddess was formed from the mud of Paradise Island, but Lepore describes how she was formed in the suffrage and feminist movements of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and an unusual family with strong ties to these movements.

Wonder Woman first appeared in print in 1941. When she became the title character of her own comic, her creator came from behind his pseudonym, with some fanfare, and revealed himself as psychologist William Moulton Marston.

Marston’s lifestyle is known now, but it was a closely held secret during his lifetime. For all practical purposes, if not legally, he had two wives. Surprisingly, both women were feminists. They both loved Marston and found in this arrangement a way to live the lives they wanted. They had a pragmatic, flexible feminism that was accepting of the unconventional. I can hardly do it justice in a few words, but Lepore explores the early days of feminism that shaped the arrangement Marston had with these two women.

Marston met Elizabeth Holloway while they were undergraduates, he at Harvard and she at Mount Holyoke. They were both advocates of women’s suffrage. They married in 1915. Marston received a doctorate and Holloway a master’s degree. Holloway claimed to be deeply involved in Marston’s early research. The Marston household became full of writers and editors, and overtime attribution became a matter of convenience or marketing rather than identification of individual authorship.

Olive Byrne met Marston as an undergraduate at Tufts, where she became his research assistant. She quickly became more and moved into the Marston household. Eventually they worked out the arrangement that Holloway would work full-time (over time she had several jobs as an editor) while Byrne raised the children (each had two children with Marston). Byrne eventually felt the need to contribute the finances and in the 1930s wrote for Family Circle as Oliver Richards (Richards from the marriage and widowhood she faked to obscure the parentage of her children). Byrne, like the Marstons she joined, had ties to the feminist and birth control movements. She was the daughter of Ethel Byrne  and her aunt was the more famous Margaret Sanger.

Holloway, Byrne, and even Sanger, were to varying degrees the models for Wonder Woman. She was to be feminist propaganda, and under Marston’s pen she was. One would guess that this would have attracted criticism, but it was not the feminism of Wonder Woman that most stirred up critics.

Bondage was depicted on almost every page of Marston’s comics. In addition, Wonder Woman’s costume was skimpy. Lepore links the bondage in these comics to the use of bondage as a symbol used by suffragists and feminists. Sometimes Marston drew very consciously on images associated with these movements. In addition, the bondage represented notions of domination and submission rooted in Marston’s theories of personality and the relationship between the sexes. Bonds, and the breaking of them, represented the misappropriation of power by men and the power of women to free themselves and take their place as leaders in society. Similarly, Wonder Woman’s bare limbs were emblematic of her athleticism, strength, power and essential equality to make heroes. It’s hard to say that the depiction of Wonder Woman is completely free of sexual undertone, Marston wanted her to be beautiful. Lepore shows the clear link between the symbolism of Wonder Woman and the symbolism  of suffrage and feminism that Marston consciously referenced.

When Marston passed away in 1947, Wonder Woman fell into the hands of writers and editors who did not share his vision. She hasn’t been the same since. After World War II, the feminism she represented was not welcome in the broader culture or by the men who wrote her comics. Even after the second wave of feminism adopted her as an emblem in the 1970s, she’s not been quite at home. Perhaps we’ll have trouble getting Wonder Woman right as long as we have conflict about the roles of women in our culture.

If you’re interested in either comics or feminism, I recommend Lepore’s book. It is thoroughly researched and thoroughly readable.

If you’re interested in this book, you may also be interested in


Lepore, Jill. The Secret History of Wonder Woman. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2014.