Well, to be fair Brookhiser had his first NR cover story at the age of 14; became a senior editor, then managing editor at National Review; was close friends with and, for a time, heir apparent to Buckley; and has written highly successful biographies of the founding fathers.  But take away the talent, ambition, and career success and it’s like we’re the same person!

Joking aside, it would be impossible to calculate how many young writers and politicos idealized and were inspired by Buckley and National Review.  Particularly in the period leading up to Ronald Regan’s election, WFB and NR were at the center of American conservatism.  And Brookhiser’s latest book – Right Time, Right Place – tells the story of what it was like to be at the very inner circle of this fully operational conservative battle station.

As the subtitle – Coming of Age with William F. Buckley Jr. and the Conservative Movement –indicates, RTRP is a blend of history, memoir, and political commentary.  I find this type of “creative non-fiction” can lack focus, often jumping between subjects and styles, but Brookhiser’s unique perspective, style and flair for language make this a remarkably focused and powerful read.

It is a very personal and honest look at the man and magazine at the heart of the conservative movement’s rise to power, and eventual return to earth, while at the same time a meditation on the dangers of hero worship and the nature of mature relationships.

The “hook” of much of the publicity behind the book is the revelation that Buckley promised Brookhiser the helm of NR when he retired and nine years later reneged.  Still in his twenties Brookhiser is taken out to lunch and promised control of the magazine in stages (contributing, senior, managing, editor in chief and sole stock holder) but the promise is to be a secret.  With this in mind, Brookhiser moves up the chain of command at NR.

Then one day he returns to his desk to find an envelope marked confidential.  It contains a letter from the out of town Buckley explaining that he no longer feels Brookhiser is suited to succeed him.  The letter refuses to document details but states that Brookhiser lacks “executive flair” and would be better off utilizing his clear writings talents in a different way.

Remarkably, Brookhiser builds a career as a freelance writer and successful author, but keeps his connection to National Review where he still contributes to this day.

It is clear why the publicists focus on this aspect of the story as it is clearly a compelling one; particularly to anyone interested in the conservative movement and its journalism. It almost seems a cliche at times: prodigy rises to dizzying heights only to have his hero turn on him; prodigy then must rebuild his career and come to peace with his former mentor/idol. But just because it is a classic story arc doesn’t make it any less interesting.

As any conservative writer interested in politics would, Brookhiser clearly idolized Buckley and NR, but his unique and early relationship with WFB made this a particularly strong connection.  For awhile it had to seem as if his dreams were coming true and then, suddenly, all bets were off and he had to rebuild not only his career but a relationship at the center of his life.

Brookhiser himself provides a great summary of this theme:

This is, finally, the story of a relationship. Bill was a generous and devoted man; he was also willful, capricious, impulsive. The former qualities generally prevailed over eruptions of the latter, but the latter could give you a wild ride. I went on a number. One fine day he announced that I would succeed him; another, he announced that I would not (there were other little surprises in store besides those). I was the more susceptible because I was thirty years younger than he was, because I was looking for someone to look up to, because it took me thirty years to realize that friendship is one of the few solid things you can have in this world, and rare enough.

What keeps it from devolving into emotionalism or melodrama is Brookhiser’s style and larger purpose. Brookhiser isn’t interested in writing a sort of conservative kiss-and-tell story where he drops dirt on various conservative luminaries.

Instead he brings his crisp and honest writing style to the history – including his own – of this critical time period.  As he learns his craft, he describes the approach he developed as impressionistic:

If I listened and looked hard enough, the story would tell itself, and if I wrote well enough, I could make you see and hear it too.

Brookhiser writes well enough, of that there is no doubt.  He tells the story of Buckley and NR at the height of their success with candor and insight because he was there; he saw it happen.  And he makes you see it and feel it.  Along the way he gives the reader a much fuller picture of Buckley the man then any hagiography could.

This really is a “coming of age” story.  Brookhiser literally grows up at NR and under the shadow of Buckley.  But he must find his own place.  And although the fracture is painful, and changed the relationship permanently, Brookhiser went on to build his own career and “become his own man.”

The reader is also treated to a sharp and perceptive narrated history of the politics of the period and the figures involved.  Brookhiser offers wonderful sketches of the writers and personalities that were part of NR; the challenges, scandals, and triumphs they experienced; and the politicians and leaders they covered.

In fact, the one thing that struck me while reading it was the wonderful collection of aphorisms it contains; sharp, insightful, biting, and humorous.  A sampling:

On Jimmy Carter:

Jimmy Carter is the worst ex-president in history, but he was also, after an erratic start, a very bad president: small-minded, moralizing, and incompetent.

Describing the way James Baker seemed to pop up everywhere not matter his previous success:

Like carbonation, he rose with every shake-up.

On the role of intellectuals in politics:

Intellectuals are the Kleenex of administrations – used, then discarded.

On Buckley’s particular weakness:

Bill, like time, worshipped language and forgave everyone by whom it lived

On writers selling out for Bill Clinton:

The wizard in The Firebird keeps his sold in an egg. Writers keep their souls, or great parts of them, in their words.  If they throw words away, they destroy themselves.  And what, after that sacrifice, would he [Sid Blumenthal] and other Clintonites be willing to do for their leader?

On the Adamses as a political dynasty:

The Adamses were hands-on fathers, which was equally bad: John had three sons, two alcoholics and a president; John Quincy had three sons, two alcoholics and a candidate for president. In that family, if you weren’t presidential material, you could tell it to the bartender.

Just as Brookhiser’s biographies get to the heart of their subject without the often dry writing of academic history, his retelling of the conservative movement gives you a lively and interesting broad overview but this time it comes with an insider’s glimpse into the figures involved.  For anyone interested in the movement, its history and personalities, this is great stuff.

Here he describes the birth of a new form of television via John McLaughlin (one time Washington correspondent for NR):

The most important thing that McLaughlin accomplished had nothing to do with National Review; he transformed the medium of political talk, incidentally sounding the death knell for Firing Line.  The McLaughlin Group invented the political sitcom.  Each character was a personality; what they said counted for nothing.

Or here he attempts to explain the break between the first President Bush and conservatives:

Why were conservatives sick of George H. W. Bush as his re-election approached? We pointed to specific mistakes, from raising taxes to his tied tongue, but we also judged hum by the unforgiving standard of nostalgia, comparing him with the man he had replaced.  Because Reagan was family, we forgave him many sideslips.  Bush had come in as the executor of the estate, and no one forgives an executor even if he only bungles a few bequests.

And here he gets to the difference between father and son:

Both he and his father mangled the language, but George H.W. Bush did so out of awkwardness and deference, as if speaking well would be an unacceptable act of self-assertion.  George W. Bush spoke badly out of confidence and indifference, believing that whatever he said was said well enough, and there was no point making the effort to say it better.

The book is full of these wonderful impressions and observations.

For anyone wanting to understand the conservative movement, and its flagship magazine, Right Time, Right Place is a must read.  And anyone interested in becoming a journalist/writer would do well to read it. But at its heart is a more humane vision: that being true to your ideals and friends is what’s important.

And that is worth remembering no matter what your politics.

So it is not surprising that when his latest book (Right Time, Right Place) came out I cleared the decks and read it.  Add in the fact that it is about William F. Buckley, National Review, and the history of the conservative movement, and it was a must read for me.  Look for my review later today.

As an added bonus, Brookhiser generously agreed to an email Q&A to discuss the book, his career, and the conservative movement. (Questions in Bold)

Had you always planned to write about your experience at NR, with WFB, and conservatism after Buckley’s passing?  How did this book come about?

I knew I wanted to write about my years with WFB. Death was the wake-up call: now you must get this done. I spoke to my agent, Michael Carlisle, who said, write a proposal, and I remember thinking: It’s on.

Was there ever a moment where you thought I shouldn’t write this; or I shouldn’t make it this personal?

I never doubted writing the book, which I owed to WFB, myself, and the history I lived through. If you don’t want to be personal, you should not write memoir (you will also have a lot of trouble living, but that’s another matter).

Were you worried that some would see it as a cheap shot at WFB (as some have done in comparing to Christopher’s book)?

Right Time, Right Place is a book about love—what it is, what it feels like, how it can go wrong, how you save it. Readers who can’t understand that should go back to Dan Brown.

You famously – and perhaps annoyingly by now – had your first cover story at NR at the age of 14.  When you first started actually working for the magazine what was the most challenging aspect of the job?

I so liked writing and editing that they felt challenging only as I suppose a horseman feels a good gallop on a fine day is challenging. Handling WFB’s correspondence with the mad and with prisoners was hard—the former because they were pitiable, the latter because they struck me as dishonest and manipulative.

What was it like coming from upstate to New York City?  At what point did you feel like NYC was your home?

I came from Irondequoit, a suburb of Rochester, and my parents came from the Mohawk Valley. We in upstate New York perhaps dislike the city more than anyone else in America, since we are cobbled into the same state with it. But in a year I was a convert. I still love upstate, and my wife and I have a weekend house in Ulster County. But the city is the omphalos.

You have been involved in conservative journalism through a number of electoral cycles and presidents (from Carter to Reagan, from Clinton to Bush to Obama).  Do you think conservatives do better when out of power or were Reagan’s terms, for example, the golden age?

We do best for the country and for the world when we put good ideas into practice. Reagan brought the economy out of stagflation, and set the Soviet Union on the road to ruin. George W. Bush was much less conservative, but he took the Terror War to the jihadists, and liberated millions of Afghans and Iraqis. Such achievements have to be prepared by work beforehand, including wilderness years.

What do you think was the strength of NR under WFB? Its weakness?

NR under WFB was lively, varied and authoritative. It explored ideas, made you laugh, and laid down the law. One of the ways WFB achieved this was by publishing a stable of columnists—James Burnham, Russell Kirk, Frank Meyer—but as the A team aged or died off, that format begged to be retired, which is what John O’Sullivan did.

You were an English major who wrote about politics and have become a writer of historical biographies.  What, if anything, do you feel unifies your career?

It all revolves around language and the world.

I was struck by how many sharp aphorisms are in this book (funny, pointed, illuminating, descriptive, etc.) and your books have none of the denseness of much history.  Does this style come from reporting and only having so much space to set the scene or capture a personality?

Journalism certainly gives you a tight turning radius. NR used to have a Bulletin, edited by James Burnham, that appeared in the weeks the magazine didn’t. The iron rule of the NR Bulletin was that editorial paragraphs could not exceed ten printed lines. If the Soviets swarmed through the Fulda Gap, you would have to describe it in ten lines, or JB would trim you back.

You argue that WFB wanted to change “cultural fashions” regarding liberalism and this required someone who was “very cool.”  How so?  And is this still a problem for conservatism?

Mill called conservatives the “stupid party.” The element of truth in this is that conservatives tend to accept the world as it is. The discontented have to be imaginative, if not more intelligent. Conservatives in the fifties and early sixties were disdained as Babbitts, hicks, Klansmen, or Catholic proles. WFB was a living refutation of these stereotypes. He could go head to head with Arthur Schlesinger Jr.—Harvard, Pulitzer Prize winner, Camelot courtier—and beat him at his own high end game.

You had to deal with building (and re-building) a relationship with someone you idealized.  Does the right too often idealize its leaders – from Reagan to WFB – and then struggle to come to grips with their faults?

The right does it, but so does the left. The institution of the presidency encourages leader complexes. I just taped a TV discussion with a smart liberal professor who was complaining, sotto voce, about Obama’s compromises. In time, we will hear it on air.

At some point, at least it seems to me, NR changed from a collection of conservative thinkers/personalities/writers to a magazine of conservative journalism and journalists.  Is that fair? How would you describe the changes/evolution?

When NR started out it could not be a magazine of conservative journalists, since there hardly were any such. Success—and I think it was a success to catalyze a conservative commentariat—always brings its own pitfalls.

You famously backed Giuliani for President.  Many labeled you one of those squishy urban conservatives; more concerned about cocktail parties than principals, etc.  Where do you see yourself on the political spectrum or how would you describe your conservatism?

Yeah, Giuliani was a real cocktail party sort of guy. His critics have not set foot in New York in the last twenty years. Giuliani was simultaneously an extreme conservative and an extreme liberal. His liberalism could be off-putting, even abhorrent. But his conservative qualities—respect for responsibility and the rule of law–transformed a ruined city. No recent American politician, except Reagan, can show a greater achievement. Then to top it all off he was president of the United States for three days after 9/11.

As for me, I am conservative without prefix or suffix.

You were not a fan of much of the conservative reaction to Bill Clinton.  How should conservatives approach President Obama?

Fight him on the beaches, fight him in the fields. He is a cool character, who will not make the mistakes that tempted us into making the mistakes we made fighting Clinton.

What’s next for you?

I am finishing a documentary for PBS with Michael Pack about Alexander Hamilton, and beginning a book on James Madison. Publius rides again—or 2/3 of him.

- Richard Brookhiser, author of Right Time, Right Place: Coming of Age with William F. Buckley Jr. and the Conservative Movement, writes in the Wall Street Journal about what the Right might learn from William F. Buckley:

The most important lesson of his career is that there are limits to accommodation. Buckley came to fame in the early 1950s after two decades of liberal Democratic dominance, the Fair Deal of Harry Truman having followed the New Deal of FDR. When Republicans finally recaptured Congress and the White House in 1952, it was a case of new men and old measures. The new president, Dwight Eisenhower, despite his conservative instincts, was unwilling to pick ideological fights. On the sidelines of politics, the poet Peter Viereck called for a New Conservatism dedicated to managing change gracefully and recognizing liberal Democrats like Adlai Stevenson as its natural leaders. Germany, Japan and (it seemed) the Depression had been beaten by great collective efforts. The world had moved into a new era, and conservatives should recognize the fact.

Buckley would have none of it. He wanted a conservatism that stood for capitalism and freedom. The Cold War required another great mobilization, which Buckley supported wholeheartedly, but he would not lose sight of his individualistic goals. In 1955, when he founded National Review as the journal of opinion for his kind of conservatism, he declared its purpose to be “to stand athwart history, yelling ‘Stop!’” He yelled because he hoped to be heard. Liberalism had been ascendant for years, but that didn’t mean it always would be.

- Steven F. Hayward, author of The Age of Reagan: The Conservative Counter-Revolution, 1980-1989, offers thoughts on Reagan’s Unfinished Agenda and where the Tea Parties might lead:

Here’s where the Tea Parties come in. If the Tea Party movement wishes to stand for something concrete, and sensibly avoid being co-opted by the Republican party, it might consider embracing Reagan’s Economic Bill of Rights (perhaps with the addition of term limits and an anti-earmark provision just to make sure the politicians stay away). It is not necessary that agitation for constitutional amendments actually succeed in getting the amendments adopted in order to have a significant political effect. There is no chance that the current Congress would even bring any of these amendments to a vote, though the Tea Parties could agitate for resolutions from state legislatures. The progress of feminism showed the Equal Rights Amendment to have been unnecessary for its larger social goals. Advocating amendments to secure new limits to government would have the salutary effect of putting liberals on the defensive, just as the balanced-budget movement and tax revolt of the 1970s assisted the rise of Reagan and conservatives in general in the 1980s. It is the kind of populism that would gain Tocqueville’s approval and Madison’s acquiescence. Above all, picking this fight would reintroduce constitutional ideas to America’s political conversation. And not a moment too soon.

I was prepared to be angry about Christopher Buckley’s latest book Losing Mum and Pup.  I have been a fan – idealized is probably more accurate – of his father’s since a very young age and worried about any attempt at sullying that reputation.  I was so sure a tell-all book about losing both of his parents within a year would be offensive.  Throw in Christo’s (the name his parents used for him) less than astute political judgment of late and I had all but pronounced him beyond the pale.

But I decided to read the book first.  And, despite the difficult nature of the subject, I am glad I did.

Not surprisingly, Losing Mum and Pup reveals that being the only son of two famous, larger-than-life personalities was not always easy.  As is frequently the case, Mr. and Mrs. William F. Buckley’s vices and virtues were both larger than life.  Difficult health issues added another layer of burden on their son in their later years.

I can’t say I always enjoyed reading about the ugly reality of the last days of Christopher’s parents (it is never easy to read about the frailties and foibles of those you idolize); people who, for me, lived a sort of Olympian existence glimpsed only through the pages of books and magazines.  But Christopher’s talent, and clear love for his parents, makes the book a poignant, humorous, and engaging read.

Evaluating a book like this centered, for me, on three questions: why, what, how?  Why write it?  What to include and what to leave out? How did it turn out (was it worth it)?

Many have been asking that first question.  Why write about it now? Why air the dirty laundry in public and disappoint so many?  Christopher answers all of these related questions with a simple answer: “because I am a writer; that’s what I do.”

Writers write.  Put aside the professional aspect (making a living, furthering a career, etc.) this is also how they process and come to terms with life.  Having written it, Christopher comes to understand that this is really what it was all about:

Writing it (I suspect) was intended to enable catharsis; now, as I reach the end, it seems to me that I may have written it out of a more basic need: as an excuse to spend more time with them before letting them go – if, indeed, one ever really lets them go.  So instead of a working-it-out exercise, perhaps this is just a black-and-white album of memories, in which the unfond memories can be leeched of bitterness and settle quietly and stingless like scattered autumn leaves on the soft forest floor.

That paragraph both gets to the heart of what the book is really about and showcases, in the last sentence, the younger Buckley’s very clear talent.

And that brings us to the “what.”  The challenge for Christopher was what to include and what to leave out.  Leave out anything controversial or negative and what is the interest?  Put in too much and it seems like a kiss-and-tell book attempting to profit off his parents fame while at the same time denigrating their reputation and memories.

There are some who probably still feel the later description is accurate.  But I don’t think that is fair.  The book is a glimpse into the lives of the Buckley family as seen through the prism of Christopher having lost both parents in the course of a year.

The excerpt in the New York Times Book Review made it seem like the book was simply a catalog of the horror of growing up with famous parents and the ugly reality of their last years.  But as Neil Freeman noted in his NR review, the book provides much greater context.

Christopher is trying to come to grips with his relationship with his parents; to find some catharsis.  As an honest, and talented, writer he simply had to deal with the struggles and challenges.  Otherwise it would have come off as fake to those that knew the Buckley’s and as just another hagiography to those who didn’t.

But as Christopher so eloquently explained in the Postlude quoted above, the result was not necessarily simply catharsis – getting it off his chest – but a softening of the edges – a “leeching of bitterness” – from the emotion packed memories.  And the reader feels the bitterness seeping away and the love and devotion coming through.  In the end, the later emotions are what matter.

So yes, the book describes some difficult moments in the later months of his parent’s lives.  His dad’s growing dependence on sleeping pills and other medication; or his habit of urinating out of a moving car; or his unwillingness to spend the required money on wine for his wife’s memorial service.

And it relates the difficult side of growing up the only son of these two towering figures.  WFB’s cruel dismissal of one of Christopher’s books: “This one didn’t work for me. Sorry.” His mom’s scathing, and totally inappropriate, verbal attack on her granddaughter’s best friend simply because she was related to a Kennedy.  The day his dad walked out on his college graduation leaving him to wander the campus alone for the day or his mom’s penchant for tall tales.

And more substantive difficult issues are touched on – if not resolved.  Christopher deals with his moving away from his faith and the kind of truce that he had to broker with his father; largely by not talking about it.  And in almost a one liner he notes that his mom seemingly had no connection whatsoever to religious faith despite his father’s famous piety.

But all of this is put in context – not that it excuses the behavior – by the nature of the couple.  In all fairness to most people’s parents, the Buckley’s were simply not your average family. And Christopher recognizes this, even if at time it is cold comfort, but more than that he embraces the great things about his parents even while recognizing their faults.

As a writer Christopher is in awe of his father’s writing abilities (both the quality and the production) and, despite the difficulties, this shared calling or craft formed a bond between the two. He is similarly in awe of his mother’s force of personality; her wit, style, and determination.  Christopher readily acknowledges that whatever his gifts of satire and humor they come from his mother.

This may sound trite, but Christopher clearly loved his parents dearly and they him.  This comes through in the writing and as a result the anger, or offense, one might have felt falls away (the political opinions offered elsewhere are another matter). Or at least it did for me.

And so we come to the last question: how did it turn out or was it worth it? In discussing the first two questions I have gone some way in answering the third, but let me just say that I think Christopher did pull it off.

This is not to say there are not problems.  The humor can sometimes seem forced or over-the-top (a sense of cracking jokes to avoid getting too caught up in the emotions). The “advice for aging boomers who will soon lose their parents” sections seem out of place and discordant (are people really reading to learn about pre-negotiating funeral costs?).  And those looking for more serious examination of Christopher’s relationship with his father, his faith, and his politics will be disappointed.

But for me, the book offered the same thing it offered its author: “an excuse to spend more time with them.”  It offered me a glimpse into the lives of people I have long admired.  Maybe it is the height of tabloid naiveté to say so, but while reading it I felt a little closer to my hero WFB and felt a little less animosity to his son.

And outside of this psychological connection there is the plan fact that Christopher is a talented writer who handles a difficult subject with humor, grace, and skill.  As many others have noted, his parents might not have approved of the revelations contained in this unique book but they are undoubtedly proud of the man their son has become.

Enter win a free copy of Losing Mum and Pup.