Some books are quick reads, propelling you chapter by chapter to the end. Others, not so much. Deborah Cohen’s Last Call at the Hotel Imperial: The Reporters Who Took on a World at War, a history of a small group of journalists and artists in the runup to World War II, is definitely the latter. But as I’ve been picking away at this book over the last couple of months, half a chapter or so at a time, I’ve noticed something both interesting and disconcerting: themes echoing from the past to the present, getting more relevant with every passing week.
Last Call follows a handful of reporters covering the biggest global news. There’s John Gunther, as well as his wife Frances; H.R. Knickerbocker, and his wife, Agnes; and Dorothy Thompson. As the book opens, each has established themselves well enough to be part of the international pool of reporters, but is nonetheless on the cusp of who they’ll be remembered as. Frances is a formidable reporter whose love story brings her the joy of family and motherhood, but at the same time seemingly sapping her writing inspiration—though bylines or lack thereof are hardly the end of her influence. John, meanwhile, finds plenty to write about, especially as tensions rise across Europe, and if articles are good, books must be better. Knick, meanwhile, finds himself rubbing shoulders—and butting heads—with many of those whose names would be headlines and curses as World War II develops. Dorothy Thompson has plenty of chances to make her voice heard, but whatever clout she’s earned for herself will be needed as the U.S. waffles about whether to join in the fight and what constitutes “mission accomplished” when they do.
Some of the world leaders in the stories these reporters write are charismatic; others are ridiculous. Frances is enamored with Nehru as John seeks an audience with Gandhi while the couple tours India for John’s second book project. Hitler seems like a preposterous failed-artist-turned-politician—until he doesn’t. The personalities of various world leaders affect but don’t necessarily predict how the wheels turn, for the most part, but there are plenty of signs that change is on the horizon. A good rule of thumb for journalists is to cover the news, not be the news, but especially when war breaks, it’s impossible for these reporters to stay completely separate from their subject material.
I started reading this book in mid-September; I finished the first week of November. Truth be told, my reading of Last Call accelerated as Election Day loomed and then passed. That Tuesday and then the day after, I read about Dorothy Thompson’s fireside chats, as well as her fiery opinion pieces. Dorothy saw the deteriorating situation in Germany and understood enough about the delicate process of peace to advocate for gentle rebuilding rather than scorched-earth retribution, even amidst the horrors her fellow journalists unveiled. The war was ongoing, she realized, and nothing could stop the conflict; more productive, then, to look forward and be prepared to pave a better path once the dust had cleared. I’m no expert in World War II history, despite my dad’s best efforts, but her vision of a better world seems to have at least contributed to that better world coming to pass.
History repeats itself; whether or not you study it, chances are your recently elected political leaders haven’t. But I found unlikely optimism in this niche book of history. This book may have been slow going, but that little nugget is going to stick with me for a long time yet.
Ring Reads 