American Vertigo

American Vertigo

One of the advantages of no longer working an 8:00 – 5:00 job is that I can nip into town for special events. Yesterday, it was Bernard-Henri Levy discussing his new book, American Vertigo: A Journey in the Footsteps of Toqueville.

There was a big crowd at the First Parish Church in Cambridge, mostly middle aged but with a nice selection of young people, and part of the audience chatted to one another in French.

BHL, as he is sometimes known, is so typically French that he is almost the archetypical Frenchman. Notice I did not use the word "icon." We don’t use that word anymore due to its having lost all meaning.

Levy wore his (according to the press) normal speaking outfit of black sport coat and white dress shirt opened a few buttons. His hair is longish and just a little wild, comme il faut. He speaks with a pronounced French accent and used a lot of words that are the same in French and English. One had to pay close attention and really listen. He loves Boston, has always loved Boston and the crowd liked him. He is emotional, but not excessively so, humorous and used no jargon, although he is a philosopher and could even be forgiven for a soupcon of jargon. This in itself was very refreshing.

He also seems terribly honest, but not in a talk-show spill-your-guts kind of let-it-all-hang-out honesty, but a more modest, even sincere honestly. He said that when the editor of the Atlantic approached him with the idea of following Toqueville’s steps, he wanted to decline because he thought he would be compared unfavorably to the great Toqueville who is still the standard for a European trying to understand America.

At the end of his talk he took some questions, and I think the audience might have sat there all night if book signings and schedules had not been so pressing.

Someone asked how he had traveled about, with the exception of being on Kerry’s campaign plane for a while. By auto, he answered, because how else can you have any idea of this country until you cross it at 65 miles per hour instead of 650 at 40,000 in a wide body. He mentioned Kerouac. My heart beat faster. “The road is life.” You don’t get from the purple mountain majesty to the amber waves of grain in an instant.

Anyone who hasn’t traveled the US by car doesn’t have a clue. Train in the next best. Foot or bicycle would be even better given time and energy.

So Levy is a sensible imaginative passionate person (and speaker) and I will definitely buy his book, but before that I am going to read Toqueville and maybe Kerouac, too.