I decided as a teenager to read my way through America’s presidents. I started with Douglas Southall Freeman’s biography of George Washington that runs to seven volumes and 4100 pages. So if you ask me, “Nathan, what book would you recommend for my twelve-year-old to get them interested in the history of America’s presidents,” there’s your answer.
Of course, if you have a child that isn’t fundamentally broken, I’d be harder pressed to answer. I haven’t read biographies aimed at young readers; at least, not until now. Thanks to Jon Meacham, I have one title we can talk about. Two years after he published “Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power,” he cut it way down and released “Thomas Jefferson: President and Philosopher” for budding young historians.
The change in subtitle tells you something of Meacham’s approach. For adults, he emphasizes Jefferson’s consolidation and use of soft power such as convivial dinners, sparkling conversation, genteel manners, and conflict avoidance to realize his vision for the nation against strong interests with hands on every lever of government. For kiddos, although Meacham still traces this thread of Jeffersonian power, he devotes proportionally more space to his subject’s mental interests: freedom of religion, freedom of thought, science, agriculture, art, and good living.
This streamlined strategy, governed as it is by the most attractive features of Jefferson’s personality, yields a biography that falls short of a hagiography—but not by much. To be fair, Meacham doesn’t hide the least savory bits, such as Jefferson’s youthful attempt to bed his friend’s wife or his long dalliance with Sally Hemings. At the same time, Meacham gives Jefferson the last word on the former as a youthful indiscretion: “When young and single, I offered love to a handsome lady. I acknowledge its incorrectness.” Meacham comes close to hand-waving Sally away on the grounds that every plantation owner had children by their slave women. Jefferson’s disgraceful and under-handed treatment of John Adams is barely part of the conversation, and then only as an interesting artifact of a system capable of electing partisans of opposing parties to the presidency and vice-presidency.
More to my liking, though, is Meacham’s adept synopsis of the most important events of Jefferson’s eventful life. I might quibble with the rosy glow up of the nation’s third president and leading contender for Most Problematic Founding Father; but I give top marks for a tight narrative that, at the very least, might spark a young reader’s interest in Aaron Burr’s deadly duel, the Lewis and Clark Expedition, or Napoleon Bonaparte. The truth is that Thomas Jefferson is such an enigmatic personality that even grown-up biographies strain to encompass the man, so I can’t ask too much of a kid’s book. If Meacham’s adequate survey of an unwasted life sparks a chain reaction of further reading, then that’s good enough for me.