Books like Harry and Bess aren’t doorstoppers, they’re more sort of ‘popcorn’ reading. You’re not going to be learning anything groundbreaking or new about the decision-making process behind using the nuclear bombs, the handling of the steel strikes of 1952, the Truman Doctrine and the Berlin Airlift, or Truman’s growing differences with MacArthur over Korea. But you don’t pick up a book like this with that expectation. Like many books of its kind, such as Grant and Twain, Franklin and Winston, and Harry & Ike, you’re reading for enjoyable anecdotes and a glimpse at the human beings behind the marble figures carved into the annals of history.
In this case, Robbins follows the course of Harry Truman and Elizabeth “Bess” Wallace—she, the popular girl and he the bookish boy who could barely see. They were both from Missouri and grew up culturally associating with the South, but we’re not going to hold that against them because Truman's a cool fella and Missouri could use more Trumans and fewer Hawleys. There are cute, fun anecdotes—the sort of stories like Washington and the cherry tree: questionable veracity, but they’re fun. In this case, it’s recounted that Harry used to consider it a good day if he had the chance to carry Bess’ books home from school.
We trace the budding romance as it grows, which Robbins careful to note early on that Bess’ mother did not care for Truman, who came from a lower social class. This antagonism between Truman and his mother-in-law would remain for the rest of her life. As the old saying goes, and I nearly had one who made me realize the truth of this statement: there’s nothing colder than a mother-in-law’s love.
After a declined proposal, Bess remains in Missouri while Harry, after a handful of job experiences, sets off to serve as a field artillery Captain in the First World War, overseeing heavy fighting. Much is made of his dedication and the letters he wrote to Bess during this time, again in the traditional mold of a romantic story (unsurprising from an author who was the former president of the American Society of Journalists and Authors); upon his return, he marries Bess and sets up a haberdashery (he sold men’s clothing) with a friend from the war, which fails. As David McCullough’s much better-known biography recounts, the debt from the bankruptcy of this company would hound Truman for years, but he insisted on paying it in full. It's been a few years since McCullough, but if memory serves it was sometime in the forties when he finally paid off his debt.
After the failure of the business, Truman is tapped as a judge by the corrupt political boss Tom Pendergast, but goes on to serve as a respectable and honest Jackson County Judge (while the respectable and honest part will face varying degrees of scrutiny in other biographies, not in this one; again, this is a light read that skims over these things in favor of a clean, simple narrative). Truman’s rise through politics continues to be interesting reading as he goes from Judge to Senator to the Truman Committee, on to the Vice Presidency and then the Presidency, first taking over FDR’s mantle and then winning in his own right.
Following his term in office, he returned to Missouri and lived a quiet, mellow life. Though not discussed here, the Trumans did not retire wealthy and it was due to their struggle with money that Eisenhower signed an act ensuring a pension for former presidents. At the time of the signing, there were only two presidents who would be impacted: Herbert Hoover and Harry Truman. Hoover was independently wealthy, but on good terms with Truman and accepted the pension as well to help him save face (Hoover’s friendship toward Truman began after Truman invited him to the White House—following losing power, FDR had treated him as a pariah lost in the political wilderness; Hoover appreciated the kind gesture Truman made. Maybe in later years, he also empathized with Truman’s being exiled to the political wilderness after his term, as well).
When it comes down to it, you don’t read a book like this for more than the broadest outlines of the person’s life, which you can find just about anywhere. You’re reading for the more entertaining anecdotes: Harry carrying Bess’ books home from school, the pair exchanging love letters as he fights in the First World War, how Bess was accepted by fellow Senators before Harry due to being well-bred and knowing how to entertain blue bloods, Truman making a fool of himself in front of the Hiroshima Maidens by remarking about the necessity of the atom bombs—and then apologizing and commenting on how awful war is after Bess takes him aside to tell him that’s not how to behave, the story of the Hollywood actress who made a scene and embarrassed herself visiting Truman. Or, of course, one of the funniest anecdotes from the book: the time Truman came home after being on a trip as president and broke a slat of the bed, then was in a very good mood the next day while Bess was a little embarrassed. Move over, ‘Give ‘Em Hell, Harry,’ the new nickname's Harry ‘Fuck Till the Bed Break’ Truman.
Given when this was written (1980) in comparison with Merle Miller’s Plain Spoken (1974), we also get a bit of the salty-mouthed, give-‘em-hell, semi-mythic Truman as he appears in the popular imagination and popularized by Miller. As others have pointed out, there are questions about the validity of this presentation but again, this is a lighter book, and it’s a fun characterization. Truman still comes across as much more tender and thoughtful than boorish. At the end of the day, as a pleasant, brisk beach-read kind of book, 4/5. If you're looking for critical analysis of his policies and their impact, however, this is not the book for you.
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