What do you think?
Rate this book
Not So Wild A Dream
Not So Wild a Dream (Not So Wild a Dream Ppr 235) [Paperback] [Jan 01, 1978] Sevareid, Eric …
516 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1946
34 people are currently reading
264 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews
October 15, 2020
Easily the best personal memoir I have ever read, I was delighted recently to discover that this relatively obscure masterpiece is in print once more, and I will definitely read it at least for a third time. I remember Eric Sevareid with fondness and respect, as the avuncular commentator whose perceptive and well-crafted remarks punctuated Walter Cronkite's CBS News broadcasts in the 1960s. He retired in 1977 and passed away 15 years after that, and I still miss him today.
I discovered this book when I was in law school, and read it for the first time shortly before I graduated. I was immediately struck by his masterful use of the language, as well as the rhythm and cadences of the text, which reminded me of his familiar and memorable CBS commentaries and provided an appropriate backdrop for Mr. Sevareid's absorbing chronicle of the first three-plus decades of his fascinating life. (The book was published in 1946.) He writes of a harrowing canoe trip to Hudson Bay from the interior of the continent, undertaken when he was 17; of his often unpleasant experiences while riding the rails at the height of the Great Depression of the 1930s; of fleeing Paris with the government when France fell to the Nazis in 1940; and of being forced to parachute into a remote area of the Himalayas while covering the China-Burma-India theater as one of Edward R. Murrow's war correspondents. I reflected at the time, and have often done so since, that while we routinely extol the deeds and sacrifices of soldiers in times of war, we are far less appreciative of the reporters and journalists who face those same hazards and privations while armed only with a camera, a typewriter, or a notebook. Sevareid was among the best of that noble breed.
I recommend this book to anyone who loves history, admires courage, and reveres the English language, which is here employed by one of its true masters.
I discovered this book when I was in law school, and read it for the first time shortly before I graduated. I was immediately struck by his masterful use of the language, as well as the rhythm and cadences of the text, which reminded me of his familiar and memorable CBS commentaries and provided an appropriate backdrop for Mr. Sevareid's absorbing chronicle of the first three-plus decades of his fascinating life. (The book was published in 1946.) He writes of a harrowing canoe trip to Hudson Bay from the interior of the continent, undertaken when he was 17; of his often unpleasant experiences while riding the rails at the height of the Great Depression of the 1930s; of fleeing Paris with the government when France fell to the Nazis in 1940; and of being forced to parachute into a remote area of the Himalayas while covering the China-Burma-India theater as one of Edward R. Murrow's war correspondents. I reflected at the time, and have often done so since, that while we routinely extol the deeds and sacrifices of soldiers in times of war, we are far less appreciative of the reporters and journalists who face those same hazards and privations while armed only with a camera, a typewriter, or a notebook. Sevareid was among the best of that noble breed.
I recommend this book to anyone who loves history, admires courage, and reveres the English language, which is here employed by one of its true masters.
April 20, 2018
Eric Sevareid was only 34 when his extraordinary autobiography Not So Wild A Dream was published. As far as I know, there was no attempt to supplement or revisit it, and no additional books were forthcoming. This is it. Sevarareid's life (even though he would live to be 79). Very late in the book, he supplies something of a reason for this:
I was thirty-two. Yet I had a curious feeling of age, as though I had lived through a lifetime, not merely through my youth. In a special but true sense, I had. For the age of man is reckoned in eras as well as in years; and what I had vaguely sensed as a student was true: history has been moving in geometric proportions. History is speeding up, telescoping upon itself, so that time of one man in life is no longer confined within one era. Already I had lived through one era.
And what an era! The bulk of the book primarily focuses on the war years (and period immediately preceding). These were the years where Sevareid would make a name for himself as a broadcast journalist. This was aided in part by Edward Murrow, who saw something in Sevareid. Sevareid himself (who was in awe of Murrow) seems a bit bewildered by it, since he viewed himself as just another print journalist. But Sevareid was something more, an incredibly sensitive man with the soul of poet. Sevareid includes a few of his broadcasts (or excerpts), and you can see immediately the unusual level on nuance and insight that rarely makes its way into broadcast news. The fact that Sevareid could incorporate those feelings into a time limited broadcast is remarkable. No doubt this is what Murrow was picking up on when he took Sevareid under his wing.
That said, this is still a young man's book. Sevareid clearly had socialist and pacifist leanings, though to his credit he saw the danger of Fascism early on, and saw the eventual necessity, once Hitler gained control, to confront it militarily. Sevareid also seemed, going back to his college days, and despite his ongoing (and book long) misty eyed socialism, to be uncomfortable with Communism. As I said above, the book is primarily about the war years, but the first few chapters are devoted to to his youth, to growing up in North Dakota and Minnesota. Sevareid was a child of the Depression. As the son (ironically) of a banker, he was somewhat insulated from that crushing experience. If anything, he made the most of it, going on an epic canoe trip (from which he could have easily died), hoboing across the country, and even a bit of gold mining in California. Sevareid's life is about as American as it gets. In those early chapters I felt I was reading a Dos Passos novel.
Later on, in France, Sevareid shines. His love for France is obvious, his anguish at her fall, memorable:
We drove the little Citroen past the railway stations where the trains lead to the south, and found the gaunt buildings banked with masses of people, quietly waiting for cars to carry them -- where? They did not know where they were going , or exactly what they were fleeing; but the ganglia of their nerves, the blood cells of their brains, demanded that the body take action, and flight was the only action possible for them now. We nosed into the silent, ghostly caravan on the Avenue de Versailles and inched forward at tortuously slow pace, our front bumper tucked under the van of an army ambulance, our rear one under the darkened headlights of a truck. Occasionally an auto lamp flickered briefly far ahead or far behind; the line of homeless stretched for many miles, but we never saw its beginning or end. Clouds gathered overhead to obscure the stars; it grew very dark, and for long hours it was only by their coughing and the scraping of their boots on the stones that we were aware of the pilgrims who walked beside us. Paris lay inert, her breathing scarcely audible, her limbs relaxed, and the blood flowed remorselessly from her manifold veins. Paris was dying like a beautiful woman in coma, not knowing or asking why. The night wore on; a single plane sounded overhead, and then we heard a quick murmuring on the roadside, the sound of hurrying feet as the walkers went into the ditches. No one blessed with an automobile would leave his precious vehicle for any cause now. Someone in a car scratched a match, and an old village woman screamed and hysterically beat at the car with a stick. It grew faintly light, and the houses of the villages appeared beside us. They were tightly shuttered and their curtains drawn. Sometimes the hostile, frightened face of a villager appeared in a window, watching the stream of lava flowing past, the unstoppable river which came from the unimaginable eruption somewhere to the north and, defying all natural laws, crept up hill as well as down, made sharp turnings in the streets as though directed by some living instinct or intelligence.
And so on. There are many such passages throughout the book. Sevareid would eventually escape from France (though as a neutral, I suppose in the end it didn't matter) in a terrific sea tale where his ship (packed with refugees) dodged bombs and avoided U-boats. At this point time truly does speed up. Sevareid is soon dispatched to South America, Africa, and later, Burma. It is there he and fellow passengers are forced to parachute out of a C-46 before it crashed into a mountain. What follows is a long, but excellent account of survival in an area controlled by headhunters and threatened by the Japanese. The "survival" part of it wasn't that extreme, since supplies were continuously being dropped. What was a potentially close thing were relations with the seemingly friendly natives. But full knowledge of this wouldn't be apparent until Sevareid and the others were rescued by an old British hand (right of Kipling or Conrad) who truly knew the dangerous neighborhood.
After this section, things accelerate even more, as Sevareid goes to Italy for the grinding American march up the Italian boot. If you want an on the ground assessment of General Mark Clark, you'll find a pretty damning account here. Clark, in Sevareid's eyes, is a preening, incompetent ass. After Italy, it's to the south of France. Much of this part of the war was new to me, since the D-Day invasions get the most treatment. But it was interesting. In Sevareid's view, the German occupation had a different tenor in the south. Calling it less harsh might be going to far, but it might explain why Gertrude Stein (who Sevareid would seek out) would ride out the occupation in something like plain sight (she was protected by a friendly mayor). The nearly spontaneous revolt of the French partisans impressed (and sometimes shocked) Sevareid, but underscored the fact that the French were not a defeated people.
The last 100 pages or so were something of a slog. Sevareid is weary, and worries about the future. Still he swings between optimism and dread. The death of Roosevelt, the nuclear bombings, have him sensing that an age has ended and an uncertain one is now beginning. Sevareid does a speculating in those last 100 pages. I guess if it was a different kind of book, you could even say such extensive musings marred the effort. But after this (very) long journey, I felt Sevareid had earned his dread.
I was thirty-two. Yet I had a curious feeling of age, as though I had lived through a lifetime, not merely through my youth. In a special but true sense, I had. For the age of man is reckoned in eras as well as in years; and what I had vaguely sensed as a student was true: history has been moving in geometric proportions. History is speeding up, telescoping upon itself, so that time of one man in life is no longer confined within one era. Already I had lived through one era.
And what an era! The bulk of the book primarily focuses on the war years (and period immediately preceding). These were the years where Sevareid would make a name for himself as a broadcast journalist. This was aided in part by Edward Murrow, who saw something in Sevareid. Sevareid himself (who was in awe of Murrow) seems a bit bewildered by it, since he viewed himself as just another print journalist. But Sevareid was something more, an incredibly sensitive man with the soul of poet. Sevareid includes a few of his broadcasts (or excerpts), and you can see immediately the unusual level on nuance and insight that rarely makes its way into broadcast news. The fact that Sevareid could incorporate those feelings into a time limited broadcast is remarkable. No doubt this is what Murrow was picking up on when he took Sevareid under his wing.
That said, this is still a young man's book. Sevareid clearly had socialist and pacifist leanings, though to his credit he saw the danger of Fascism early on, and saw the eventual necessity, once Hitler gained control, to confront it militarily. Sevareid also seemed, going back to his college days, and despite his ongoing (and book long) misty eyed socialism, to be uncomfortable with Communism. As I said above, the book is primarily about the war years, but the first few chapters are devoted to to his youth, to growing up in North Dakota and Minnesota. Sevareid was a child of the Depression. As the son (ironically) of a banker, he was somewhat insulated from that crushing experience. If anything, he made the most of it, going on an epic canoe trip (from which he could have easily died), hoboing across the country, and even a bit of gold mining in California. Sevareid's life is about as American as it gets. In those early chapters I felt I was reading a Dos Passos novel.
Later on, in France, Sevareid shines. His love for France is obvious, his anguish at her fall, memorable:
We drove the little Citroen past the railway stations where the trains lead to the south, and found the gaunt buildings banked with masses of people, quietly waiting for cars to carry them -- where? They did not know where they were going , or exactly what they were fleeing; but the ganglia of their nerves, the blood cells of their brains, demanded that the body take action, and flight was the only action possible for them now. We nosed into the silent, ghostly caravan on the Avenue de Versailles and inched forward at tortuously slow pace, our front bumper tucked under the van of an army ambulance, our rear one under the darkened headlights of a truck. Occasionally an auto lamp flickered briefly far ahead or far behind; the line of homeless stretched for many miles, but we never saw its beginning or end. Clouds gathered overhead to obscure the stars; it grew very dark, and for long hours it was only by their coughing and the scraping of their boots on the stones that we were aware of the pilgrims who walked beside us. Paris lay inert, her breathing scarcely audible, her limbs relaxed, and the blood flowed remorselessly from her manifold veins. Paris was dying like a beautiful woman in coma, not knowing or asking why. The night wore on; a single plane sounded overhead, and then we heard a quick murmuring on the roadside, the sound of hurrying feet as the walkers went into the ditches. No one blessed with an automobile would leave his precious vehicle for any cause now. Someone in a car scratched a match, and an old village woman screamed and hysterically beat at the car with a stick. It grew faintly light, and the houses of the villages appeared beside us. They were tightly shuttered and their curtains drawn. Sometimes the hostile, frightened face of a villager appeared in a window, watching the stream of lava flowing past, the unstoppable river which came from the unimaginable eruption somewhere to the north and, defying all natural laws, crept up hill as well as down, made sharp turnings in the streets as though directed by some living instinct or intelligence.
And so on. There are many such passages throughout the book. Sevareid would eventually escape from France (though as a neutral, I suppose in the end it didn't matter) in a terrific sea tale where his ship (packed with refugees) dodged bombs and avoided U-boats. At this point time truly does speed up. Sevareid is soon dispatched to South America, Africa, and later, Burma. It is there he and fellow passengers are forced to parachute out of a C-46 before it crashed into a mountain. What follows is a long, but excellent account of survival in an area controlled by headhunters and threatened by the Japanese. The "survival" part of it wasn't that extreme, since supplies were continuously being dropped. What was a potentially close thing were relations with the seemingly friendly natives. But full knowledge of this wouldn't be apparent until Sevareid and the others were rescued by an old British hand (right of Kipling or Conrad) who truly knew the dangerous neighborhood.
After this section, things accelerate even more, as Sevareid goes to Italy for the grinding American march up the Italian boot. If you want an on the ground assessment of General Mark Clark, you'll find a pretty damning account here. Clark, in Sevareid's eyes, is a preening, incompetent ass. After Italy, it's to the south of France. Much of this part of the war was new to me, since the D-Day invasions get the most treatment. But it was interesting. In Sevareid's view, the German occupation had a different tenor in the south. Calling it less harsh might be going to far, but it might explain why Gertrude Stein (who Sevareid would seek out) would ride out the occupation in something like plain sight (she was protected by a friendly mayor). The nearly spontaneous revolt of the French partisans impressed (and sometimes shocked) Sevareid, but underscored the fact that the French were not a defeated people.
The last 100 pages or so were something of a slog. Sevareid is weary, and worries about the future. Still he swings between optimism and dread. The death of Roosevelt, the nuclear bombings, have him sensing that an age has ended and an uncertain one is now beginning. Sevareid does a speculating in those last 100 pages. I guess if it was a different kind of book, you could even say such extensive musings marred the effort. But after this (very) long journey, I felt Sevareid had earned his dread.
December 21, 2014
I have written about my misgivings about the memoir genre more than once. Eric Sevareid's “personal story” inspired much more confidence in the veracity of his writing than modern memoirs have. It was originally written in 1946, well before exaggeration and fabrication in memoir-writing became endemic. Sevareid is blunt in commenting on his own or others behavior, and, as the memoir advances chronologically, he diligently confesses his previous errors of judgment, commission, and observation. His adventures on his 2200-mile canoe trip, during his month with the Naga tribes, during the blitz in London, and while embedded with combat troops in Italy, France, and Germany were frequently harrowing, but the narrative feels authentic. In describing his reaction to Kung Peng, a dedicated, young Communist involved in the struggle in China, the degree of Sevareid's self-critique is evident, “I had that old feeling of uselessness, the crushing sense of ineffectualness that comes to the vacillating liberal, who contests only with words, in the presence of a truly strong, dedicated person who has accepted the perils of action.” In his descriptions of encounter after encounter with the participants in WWII, Sevareid articulates both the despair and the hope that were vying for the minds and souls of every station of people.
December 16, 2016
NOT SO WILD A DREAM by esteemed commentator Eric Sevareid is an important book. Written in 1946, when Sevareid was a mere 34 years of age, it recounts his coming of age as a liberal and then his wide-ranging experiences as a CBS foreign correspondent roaming the globe amidst the violence & destruction of World War II. The account is amazingly introspective, at times perhaps excessively so; yet his perception of national characters and the clash of ideologies seems spot on, especially knowing how the post-war world turned out. Indeed, as someone now nearly twice Sevareid’s age when he wrote the book, I’m amazed at his maturity and sound judgment.
Sevareid is also a fine wordsmith. NOT SO WILD A DREAM is a joy to read. For those of my age it is impossible to read this book without hearing Sevareid’s voice in my head – which is a treat. Look him up on YouTube if you need a reminder.
A reader ought to have a good grasp of the first half of 20th century history to get the most out of the reading. He tosses around names, places, & events that a writer may no longer assume to be commonly familiar.
Ultimately, Sevareid concludes on a hopeful note for humanity and brotherhood. In part his optimism is founded on the worldly experience garnered by so many millions scattered about as a result of the war. He viewed travel and exposure to other cultures as an antidote to nationalism; and had high hopes that the WW II generation would be able to create a more just and free civilization. There may be something to this view that travel and toleration are prerequisite to justice, liberty, and dignity, especially as writing at the close of 2016 when the world is witnessing a revival of nationalism. Sevareid’s “Not So Wild a Dream” of peace with dignity is looking like more of a pipe dream.
Sevareid is also a fine wordsmith. NOT SO WILD A DREAM is a joy to read. For those of my age it is impossible to read this book without hearing Sevareid’s voice in my head – which is a treat. Look him up on YouTube if you need a reminder.
A reader ought to have a good grasp of the first half of 20th century history to get the most out of the reading. He tosses around names, places, & events that a writer may no longer assume to be commonly familiar.
Ultimately, Sevareid concludes on a hopeful note for humanity and brotherhood. In part his optimism is founded on the worldly experience garnered by so many millions scattered about as a result of the war. He viewed travel and exposure to other cultures as an antidote to nationalism; and had high hopes that the WW II generation would be able to create a more just and free civilization. There may be something to this view that travel and toleration are prerequisite to justice, liberty, and dignity, especially as writing at the close of 2016 when the world is witnessing a revival of nationalism. Sevareid’s “Not So Wild a Dream” of peace with dignity is looking like more of a pipe dream.
May 5, 2023
Memoirs written in 1946 (at about the age of 35); VERY insightful and interesting. A "liberal" look at fascism and the depression, war, etc. Read a library book, then purchased a copy six years later and will read again some day. I don't give five stars very often, but, as I remember, this earned it.
November 2017: I just read the WWII memoir “Marquis,” by George Millar, wherein he mentions seeing Sevareid in France in the fall of 1944. Reviewed Sevareid’s memoir for mentions of Millar, then decided to read "Not So Wild A Dream" again:
December 2017: read most of the book, skipping only the first 59 pages about Sevareid's early years and the middle section (Chapters IX through XI) about his experiences during 1943 in the Far East, when he was forced to bail out of a stricken plane and survived in the jungle with a group of survivors with various injuries -- only skipped that because it was so memorable, and also because I was more interested in the Western front material.
This time around I noticed Sevareid's left-wing "we're all in this world together" hope that the British and Americans and Russians would happily gather around the campfire.
5.5.23: A correspondent sent me a link to an article about the travails of flying "The Hump," which reminded me of this wonderful book. I note that on second reading I skipped Sevareid's account of his "Hump" experience because it was so memorable even 10 years after first reading. Well, it's still memorable, but perhaps it's time to go back and read that section again. And it's also time to do the review of The Stilwell Papers, about which I promised a 'full review' in 2017.
November 2017: I just read the WWII memoir “Marquis,” by George Millar, wherein he mentions seeing Sevareid in France in the fall of 1944. Reviewed Sevareid’s memoir for mentions of Millar, then decided to read "Not So Wild A Dream" again:
December 2017: read most of the book, skipping only the first 59 pages about Sevareid's early years and the middle section (Chapters IX through XI) about his experiences during 1943 in the Far East, when he was forced to bail out of a stricken plane and survived in the jungle with a group of survivors with various injuries -- only skipped that because it was so memorable, and also because I was more interested in the Western front material.
This time around I noticed Sevareid's left-wing "we're all in this world together" hope that the British and Americans and Russians would happily gather around the campfire.
5.5.23: A correspondent sent me a link to an article about the travails of flying "The Hump," which reminded me of this wonderful book. I note that on second reading I skipped Sevareid's account of his "Hump" experience because it was so memorable even 10 years after first reading. Well, it's still memorable, but perhaps it's time to go back and read that section again. And it's also time to do the review of The Stilwell Papers, about which I promised a 'full review' in 2017.
April 27, 2009
I had high hopes for this one based on the subject matter(World War Two) and from reading Sevareid's excellent book "Canoeing with the Cree". But this bares little resemblance to that and is overlong, rambling, pretentious and dated. It reads like an un-edited first draft that should have been cut in half. Really drags on after a while, it felt like homework to finish it.
August 5, 2021
I was refered to this book from reading another book by Og Mandino, his journal about his own life about writing. He coincidentally named in honor Eric Sevareid as a MuST READ for writers upon the authors death in 1993. I was just curious why and learned Eric was at the start of radio war correspondent news similar to our now CNN. But what I discovered in this book is not only an intimate auto-biography that reveals his early life but his university studies onward to several war arenas from Europe and Asia during WW2 and even his own views about DC politics before WW2, during and to 1945. When the book comes to a close.
No spoilers but I will say the book has moments of extreme action and adventure that makes you wonder how lucky or God blessed indeed from closeness to death! It’s like a hollywood film but real! And yet the revelation about war correspondent trying to be one with the soldier the inside mind and heart even by a inane sense of guilt , is how Eric shared his failure to do so in his vulnerable confession not unlike many novels like say “On the Road” where the hero’s went on the road in search of something but never finding? That was post war , but this is prewar and during war, which in my opinion blows the Beats or Beat Generation writers out of the water. I say this because I have been working for years reading and researching Jack Kerouac. Now as a writer he maybe have learned from this writer indeed had heard him on the radio. But never heard of him from the letters I’m reading about from many authors. They exclaim Thomas Wolfe or Tolstoy or Celine or Proust, but never this American writer most likely because he told the truth and not fiction. He doesn’t pretend to have the real truth but indeed this book has nuggets that must be shared or copied into a notebook. They are timeless and I admit I read a original library book from the 7th printing. That means this was a best seller indeed! I think his popularity as because of his own vulnerability over the airwaves. And there are a few parts in this book that showcase his prose but especially because you can almost hear him reading the prose live over the radio like a real poet or prose performer that Jack Kerouac made popular on the talk show of 1957.
Thus you will discover the humiliation and struggle of being full force into “getting the story” only to learn a technical glitch either human error or just nature making your entire broadcast and news story lost in the ether.
His countless times he shares his failures that makes the reader believe his unrealistic death avoiding feats because I felt he was not trying to impress me but just told it like it was good bad and boring.
I will end here with saying this will not convince you one political view or another but will just ethically report and the author shows his own opinion and how he felt and thought one way and why he became either biased or prejudiced and a bit arrogant and angry at those who had not the experience or wisdom he had witnessed. His heart was broken indeed many times.
But the last thing surprise I found in a old library book was a penciled statement about a certain point being made about stalemate in war and politics. The quote said “and in 1972, what now?”
I felt a sense of humor and enlightenment. For I saw the 1972 was when Vietnam was in progress as well as much more politics. But I wrote below it similar “and in 2021, what now?” I think the reader can find my humor and even the truth in the statement even farther away from the writer original 1946 publishing. History repeats itself.
No spoilers but I will say the book has moments of extreme action and adventure that makes you wonder how lucky or God blessed indeed from closeness to death! It’s like a hollywood film but real! And yet the revelation about war correspondent trying to be one with the soldier the inside mind and heart even by a inane sense of guilt , is how Eric shared his failure to do so in his vulnerable confession not unlike many novels like say “On the Road” where the hero’s went on the road in search of something but never finding? That was post war , but this is prewar and during war, which in my opinion blows the Beats or Beat Generation writers out of the water. I say this because I have been working for years reading and researching Jack Kerouac. Now as a writer he maybe have learned from this writer indeed had heard him on the radio. But never heard of him from the letters I’m reading about from many authors. They exclaim Thomas Wolfe or Tolstoy or Celine or Proust, but never this American writer most likely because he told the truth and not fiction. He doesn’t pretend to have the real truth but indeed this book has nuggets that must be shared or copied into a notebook. They are timeless and I admit I read a original library book from the 7th printing. That means this was a best seller indeed! I think his popularity as because of his own vulnerability over the airwaves. And there are a few parts in this book that showcase his prose but especially because you can almost hear him reading the prose live over the radio like a real poet or prose performer that Jack Kerouac made popular on the talk show of 1957.
Thus you will discover the humiliation and struggle of being full force into “getting the story” only to learn a technical glitch either human error or just nature making your entire broadcast and news story lost in the ether.
His countless times he shares his failures that makes the reader believe his unrealistic death avoiding feats because I felt he was not trying to impress me but just told it like it was good bad and boring.
I will end here with saying this will not convince you one political view or another but will just ethically report and the author shows his own opinion and how he felt and thought one way and why he became either biased or prejudiced and a bit arrogant and angry at those who had not the experience or wisdom he had witnessed. His heart was broken indeed many times.
But the last thing surprise I found in a old library book was a penciled statement about a certain point being made about stalemate in war and politics. The quote said “and in 1972, what now?”
I felt a sense of humor and enlightenment. For I saw the 1972 was when Vietnam was in progress as well as much more politics. But I wrote below it similar “and in 2021, what now?” I think the reader can find my humor and even the truth in the statement even farther away from the writer original 1946 publishing. History repeats itself.
April 9, 2021
Among the Best Books I’ve Read
This is a book for anyone who tries to understand history. Eric Sevareid was one of the CBS Radio Network’s “Murrow Boys,” a gathering of arguably the most accomplished journalists in the years leading up to WWII, and through that global crisis.
Sevareid was an eyewitness to all of it, from the fall of France in 1940 to the final moments of the Third Reich.
And so much more. He and a friend canoed and portaged though 1500 miles of Canadian wilderness just to show they could do it. A military plane carrying him to war-torn China was shot down over the Burmese jungle; he and a dozen others were stranded for many days. He witnessed the many choices China didn’t make that led to its Red Revolution. He covered the American beachhead landing at Anzio and the brutal slog through to Rome. He landed with U.S. troops in the south of France and then had to confront not just German troops but also Vichy diehard Fascists.
All of this Sevareid writes about with vivid detail and lucid prose. I found myself highlighting passages on nearly every page. Sevareid avoids pat solutions and frequently expressed doubts about what he was seeing and how to interpret events correctly
“Not So Wild a Dream” was written in 1947; the Kindle version I had included new forward Sevareid wrote 30 years later. He came from rural North Dakota and ended up a chronicler of world events. But as he makes clear, the remoteness of his youth gave him penetrating eyes with which to see the truths underlying the great swings of life he saw.
I cannot emphasize how much I enjoyed this wonderful memoir. I recommend it without hesitation.
This is a book for anyone who tries to understand history. Eric Sevareid was one of the CBS Radio Network’s “Murrow Boys,” a gathering of arguably the most accomplished journalists in the years leading up to WWII, and through that global crisis.
Sevareid was an eyewitness to all of it, from the fall of France in 1940 to the final moments of the Third Reich.
And so much more. He and a friend canoed and portaged though 1500 miles of Canadian wilderness just to show they could do it. A military plane carrying him to war-torn China was shot down over the Burmese jungle; he and a dozen others were stranded for many days. He witnessed the many choices China didn’t make that led to its Red Revolution. He covered the American beachhead landing at Anzio and the brutal slog through to Rome. He landed with U.S. troops in the south of France and then had to confront not just German troops but also Vichy diehard Fascists.
All of this Sevareid writes about with vivid detail and lucid prose. I found myself highlighting passages on nearly every page. Sevareid avoids pat solutions and frequently expressed doubts about what he was seeing and how to interpret events correctly
“Not So Wild a Dream” was written in 1947; the Kindle version I had included new forward Sevareid wrote 30 years later. He came from rural North Dakota and ended up a chronicler of world events. But as he makes clear, the remoteness of his youth gave him penetrating eyes with which to see the truths underlying the great swings of life he saw.
I cannot emphasize how much I enjoyed this wonderful memoir. I recommend it without hesitation.
December 20, 2024
There are already a couple of good, detailed reviews here, and I don't have much to add, other than to say that this is probably the most fascinating autobiography or memoir I've ever read. And all the more astonishing for having been written around age 35, with many lifetimes worth of adventure, perception, peril, experience, and accomplishment already behind him.
The best material lies in the first-person accounts: of trekking to Hudson Bay, riding the rails, breaking into journalism (first print then broadcast), witnessing the fall of France, parachuting into remote Naga territory, dodging an eruption of Vesuvius, of the liberation of Italy, of numerous encounters with consequential people from Edward Murrow to Gertrude Stein, and much else. Somewhat less interesting are the passages of commentary on, say, French politics of the 1930's, which are difficult to get into without a specialist interest in the field and with the passage of ninety years. But as a record of an extraordinary (half of a) life, this was unquestionably a five-star read for me.
The best material lies in the first-person accounts: of trekking to Hudson Bay, riding the rails, breaking into journalism (first print then broadcast), witnessing the fall of France, parachuting into remote Naga territory, dodging an eruption of Vesuvius, of the liberation of Italy, of numerous encounters with consequential people from Edward Murrow to Gertrude Stein, and much else. Somewhat less interesting are the passages of commentary on, say, French politics of the 1930's, which are difficult to get into without a specialist interest in the field and with the passage of ninety years. But as a record of an extraordinary (half of a) life, this was unquestionably a five-star read for me.
November 28, 2022
A Utopian At Heart, Stunned By Reality And Imperfection
I spent my career as a community journalist, where small words were better than big ones and short, declarative sentences ruled the day. My world was direct, often dirty reality.
Erik Sevareid was, at heart a utopian socialist, a dreamer and a flowery commentator about life whose wishes and hopes were often dashed by reality. Yet his commentaries are legendary. It is also why this book - taking days, not minutes, to read - is not the journalism I knew and practiced.
But it is important and useful in understanding how the world of my parents and grandparents created the world that I and my children now face.
If those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, then reflections of those like Sevareid still have things to teach us all.
I spent my career as a community journalist, where small words were better than big ones and short, declarative sentences ruled the day. My world was direct, often dirty reality.
Erik Sevareid was, at heart a utopian socialist, a dreamer and a flowery commentator about life whose wishes and hopes were often dashed by reality. Yet his commentaries are legendary. It is also why this book - taking days, not minutes, to read - is not the journalism I knew and practiced.
But it is important and useful in understanding how the world of my parents and grandparents created the world that I and my children now face.
If those who forget history are doomed to repeat it, then reflections of those like Sevareid still have things to teach us all.
April 26, 2021
My first exposure to Sevareid was when he was a commentator for the CBS news in the 60’s and 70’s. I was barely a teen then, and he seemed a old, but learned man.
This book, and his book about his experiences canoeing as a youth demonstrate the amazing path his life took. Like everyone who experienced the depression and WW2 era, he earned his way through life. Listening to him as a tv commentator he could come across as a preachy, pompous, and over educated. When you appreciate what experiences he had first hand, you come to value the lessons he learned under the most difficult circumstances. He understood the flow of history and how current events were affected by it.
We could sorely use someone of his intelligence and integrity today.
This book, and his book about his experiences canoeing as a youth demonstrate the amazing path his life took. Like everyone who experienced the depression and WW2 era, he earned his way through life. Listening to him as a tv commentator he could come across as a preachy, pompous, and over educated. When you appreciate what experiences he had first hand, you come to value the lessons he learned under the most difficult circumstances. He understood the flow of history and how current events were affected by it.
We could sorely use someone of his intelligence and integrity today.
November 9, 2024
Compelling first person account of journalist Sevareid’s on-the-ground reporting of the events leading up WWII and the war itself. His recounting of jumping out of a disabled soldier transport plane, sans parachute, somewhere in SE Asia and everything that followed, is worth the read, itself. Wonderful book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
September 21, 2018
What an interesting life, and he stopped in 1945!
February 27, 2022
pretty good find.
The part about bailing out over the Himalayas was just incredible. Pontificates a bit much at times but overall solid for readers of WW2.
The part about bailing out over the Himalayas was just incredible. Pontificates a bit much at times but overall solid for readers of WW2.
July 21, 2023
This is possibly my favorite book of all time. Sevareid’s writing style is poetic and thought-provoking and made me think of the war in a totally different, personal way. He includes detailed snapshots of what he sees around him and also his innermost feelings. I gained a depth of understanding of historical events and the mentality of those involved. This memoir is nothing short of immersive time-traveling and I wanted to savor every piece of it. I plan to re-read this over and over.
February 3, 2024
They came together in villages and put paint on the boards of their houses. They planted green trees, made a park as best they could. They put their money together and hired for their children teachers who knew a little more. They sent some sons away to come back with the knowledge of medicine and the law. They built hospitals and colleges. The colleges were not Harvard nor Oxford, but they saw that the right books were there. They thought they had done well. Who, in his present comfort and easy knowledge, is now to sneer? They were of the men who built America; they are now of the men who keep America. They are America.
March 4, 2009
This book fits into more than one categories -- "coming of age" books and "life in the 20th century" books. It also fits a personal category -- books written by Midwestern American authors. It's where I have lived my life, and I am grateful when I read a thoughtful description of this part of the big world. Sevareid lived in Mpls during an interesting period of its history, and I think he is a wonderful writer. I am reading this for the second time.
November 29, 2019
Great book for those interested in journalism of an earlier era, or the time leading up to World War II, or the war itself--particularly the wild times he had Burma and then southern China. He's preachy at times and inclined to sum up people by the glint in their eyes--but might not have been entirely wrong. The famous trip up the Red River of the North, accomplished when he was very young, has fewer pages devoted to it than I would have guessed.
September 25, 2013
very different take on the way media works. Eric Sevareid was there when Paris fell to the germans. His were some of the first words to tell about it. By the same token he professes to be very much of a left winger. Alot that attitude we are seeing in modern media coverage.
October 18, 2014
Eric Sevareid could write. He published this in 1946, allowing himself really only a year following the war to collect and analyze his thoughts. Major portions of Not so Wild a Dream are beautifully written.
February 17, 2011
I always respected Mr. Sevareid as a news analyst and this book has confirmed my appreciation of him both as a human being and professional reporter.
July 15, 2013
A terrific book that was given to me at Christmas because it is one of my mother's favorites.
May 31, 2016
What a life!
Displaying 1 - 23 of 23 reviews