Published posthumously after a 60-plus year delay, edited by Sir Harold Evans (Mr. Tina Brown),
reviewed Wednesday by William Grimes in the New York Times, former Omnibus and Masterpiece Theatre host Alistair Cooke's
The American Home Front: America 1941-1942 sounds like a jolly good summer read:
Mr. Cooke sees the things only a foreigner would. He grasps the unique qualities of the drug store, which he calls "the image of a complete American community — a shining fountain, the taste of lush syrups, an orgy of casual friendships and smart advertising, a halfway house between brisk comings and goings, the wayside first-aid station of American cleanliness and quick health." He has a sensitive ear for the casual cruelties of racism, and in California makes a detour to an internment camp for Japanese-Americans, which he reports on, sorrowfully and humanely, at time when most Americans could not have cared less.
Much of the reporting is upbeat. Factories are going full blast, everyone has a job, and airplanes, tanks and Jeeps are rolling off the assembly lines. Even amber waves of grain, "the American factory of winter wheat," seem to be part of the vast American war machine. The mood, in many ways, is bright.
Direct questions about the war elicit somber responses. "But walk right into his cornfield," Mr. Cooke writes of the average Kansas farmer, "exchange the time of day, admire a stallion, and ask him how's business and he will grin, wipe his forehead, and say that the last two years have been fine, and if the war keeps on, the next two years will be better."
Whether he was at a film studio in Los Angeles or a cattle ranch in Wyoming, Mr. Cooke always managed to ask that second question. While the rest of the journalistic pack nibbled at news releases back in Washington, he followed his instincts and took a good look around the rest of the country. He filed late, but boy, did he get it right.
