If E.L. Doctorow's The March is any indication, his next book will probably concern the Founding Fathers and their era. While the rest of us move forward in time (like it or not), 74-year-old Doctorow steadily recedes in time, moving from the Cold War-era The Book of Daniel to 1920 Gangsterland in Billy Bathgate to Victorian-era Manhattan in The Waterworks to his current Civil War epic.
So is The March really as good as they say? (How many books win a star-trifecta, with starred reviews from Kirkus, Booklist and Publishers' Weekly? And this is even before the big prizes!) Yeah, it really is, possibly the author's finest, although a half-dozen of them are so good that it's really hard to choose among them.
However, the subject Doctorow has chosen is so challenging -- General William Tecumseh Sherman's 1864 march to the sea, gathering 25,000 freed slaves with him as he slashes and burns Atlanta, then moves north on through South Carolina and North Carolina to the fateful denouement of the war -- that to carry it off as ably as he does deserves special mention. The reader gets a sense of the giant swirl of humanity around Sherman from the author's description of the march:
"Imagine a great segmented body moving in contractions and dilations at a rate of twelve or fifteen miles a day, a creature of a hundred thousand feet. It is tubular in its being and tentacled to the roads and bridges over which it travels. It sends out as antennae its men on horses. It consumes everything in its path. It is an immense organism, this army, with a small brain."
You won't find descriptive narrative like that on every page, mostly because of the extent of dialogue, as racist Rebels, freed slaves, Union soldiers and Southern landowners rub up against each other and interact in surprising ways. The cadence, rhythm and syntax of their often fevered conversation seems right on the mark or, at least, is almost never discordant.