eral Robert E. Lee, who wore a spotless,ngray, gold-braided Confederate uniform.nGrant did not look like a victor, but life isnseldom as appropriate as the theater innits figures of destiny.nThe man who emerges from thenwords of Grant’s memoirs is far morenimpressive than his later reputation. Thenworld in which he lived is far removednfrom ours. His was a world where fermnboys were more numerous than others,nwhere both he and Lincoln used thenfrontier saying, “If you can’t skin younhave to hold a leg while others who can,ndo the skinrung.” Lincoln and Grant understoodnone another; they both knewnthe grim reality of a fight and they werenboth often surrounded by men whonconsidered them socially inferior.nWhen the intellectually arrogantnHenry Adams met Grant in the WhitenHouse, he said that of the dozen Presidentsnhe met, “Grant was the most curiousnobject of study among them all.” Hencompared Grant only to Garibaldi: “innboth, the intellect counted for nothing,nonly the energy counted. The type wasnpre-industrial, archaic, and would havenseemed so even to a cave-man. Adam,naccording to legend, was such a man.”nAdams felt that Grant “should have beennextinct,” and he waxed sarcastic aboutnGrant’s existence, saying that it “upsetnevolution.” What Adams resented wasnthe sense of inferiority he felt when confirontednby Grant, whom he regarded asna specimen of “men whose energiesnwere the greater, the less they wastednon thought; men who sprang fi-om thensoil to power; apt to be distrustful ofnthemselves and of others; shy; jealous;nsometimes vindictive; more or less dullnin outward appearance; always needingnstimulants, but for whom action was thenhighest stimulant—the instinct of fight.nSuch men were forces of nature, energiesnof the prime, like xhePteraspis, butnthey made short work of scholars. Theynhad commanded thousands of these andnsaw no more in them than in others. Thenfact was certain; it crushed argumentnand intellect at once.”nThis resentment, expressed in ournChronicles of Cultttrenown time by Arthur Schlesuiger, Jr.nabout the military leaders he heard discussingnthe invasion of Castro’s Cuba, isna commonplace among those who pridenthemselves on their “intellect” and denynthat other men think. Grant was able—nin the midst of battle—to issue ordersnthat were masterpieces of clarity andnlogic, spirit, and creativity. Compared tonthe complex forces with which Grantnhad to deal, which involved weather,nterrain, the reactions of thousands, andnthe opposition of more thousands, conductingna symphony orchestra or writingna book is simplicity itself. Adamsncould not appreciate that, but neitherncould many other spectators of life.nVJeneral Grant suffered from disgracesninflicted by false friends and rela­nThe Grin Beneath the SkinnWilliam Gelding: A Moving Target;nFarrar, Straus & Giroux; New York.nAlan Sillitoe: Her Victory; FranklinnWatts; New York.nby E. Christian KopffnIhe argument could be made thatnAlfred Hitchcock’s greatest movie isnShadow of a Doubt. In it he shows anbright small-town American girl growingnup bored and frustrated with thentives during his two administrations asnPresident of the United States. SincenGrant’s time, this country has discoverednthat we can have even worse administrators,nranging from the corrupt LyndonnJohnson to the weirdly unworldlynWoodrow Wilson and the inept JimmynCarter. The Presidency, to each of thesenmen, was the apex of their careers; fornGrant it was an honorarium for servicesnrendered. The figures of both Burr andnGrant have been restored to a morenproper placement by two eminent biographers:nLomask for Burr and William S.nMcFeely for Grant. (McFeely’s book isnresponsible for this reissuance of Grant’snMemoirs.) It would be ungracious tonsay that the wait has been too long; it isnfitting to say that one can be grateful thatnit is now rewarded. DnCharlie, however, mrns out to be a psychopathicnmurderer, and the young ladynsees how easy is the descent into annAvemus of horror and crime, how dearlynpurchased and hardly preserved ournconventions and routines are. The fethernand the next-door neighbor represent antradition In our culture that goes back tonSophocles, a tradition of living normallynwhile imagining the ultimate horrors.nSophocles’ greatest plays, Oedipus andnAntigone, jwrtray a world turned upsidendown, gods remorseless and fate inevitableneven for the good, especially for then”I feel no rush of grace or visii >ii .!•> .Mr. (lokliii}; p;isM-s In.”n•eif I orii Timos l{o