but a faintly ominous one. It assumesnthat the sexual revolution, mandated bynan elite, has propelled men in the UnitednStates beyond their predecessors intonsome strange new world. But that note,nburied in the introduction of the professor’snbook, is submerged for somentime, while he meditates unchronologicallynabout being or becoming a man.n^nce he has chosen to be intenselynpersonal, there is no way the reader cannavoid learning more about LeonardnKriegel than might be wise for him tonreveal. It is not that his intermittentnrage at being unable to walk or run isnunexpected: a cripple’s rage, and oftennmalice, is a familiar spectacle. It is thenextension of that rage that is moot: thenassumption, early on, that “no Americanncould afford to be anything less thanncapable—that was the price of being annAmerican.” To learn life from booksnleads to a sort of blindness, to assumptionsnformed from fantasies, from inventions.nCertainly literature dwells onnimages of extraordinary competence, ofnmanhood that always walks tall. But innthe United States most men do not readnsuch myths with blind acceptance. In thenreal world, the drafted American heroesnwho landed at Normandy were accompaniednin each LST by men with machinenguns, whose orders were to shootndown anyone who turned back.nThe youthful Kriegel’s indifferencento the everyday, in favor of an imaginativensearch for heroes and the heroic,nleads to some appealing reveries and recollections.nThe Western movie, with itsnsolitary horseman under a vast expansenof sky, is evocatively recalled. Thesenwish-myths held millions of Americannboys and men in their thrall for severalngenerations: Kriegel dwells on this,nrecreating John Wayne as Ringo Kid, rendresser of injustice, a judge outside thenlaw. Then he traces Hollywood’s abandonmentnof these tales—as though itnreflected a shift in attitude of the malesnof the nation—overlooking the perennialnappeal of Robin Hood or the immortalitynof the tales of Homer. He whonturns away from the literary lessons ofnthe ages in favor of expressions of hatred,nof distortions of the national past,nshould not be credited with mirroringnreality, should not be forgiven creativencrimes. It is in these muted acceptances,nhowever, that Kriegel reflects his contemporaneity.nHe speaks about actors innfilms as if they were real persons innreal situations—expressions of largernrealities. Implicit in this attitude is thenassumption that the audience made thenfilms—Ben Stein (The View from SunsetnBoulevard) could tell Kriegel otherwise.nNevertheless—and it is here thatnthe book rises above its conclusions—hisnevocations of the afternoons at thenmovies are valid. From their inception,nthese spectacles have done much to formnAmerican culture into its present astonishingnshapes, and Kriegel is wisenenough to know, and to recall, how thisnwas done to him.nAnother great influence appropriatento a handicapped bov with an inquiringnmind was books. It is a pleasure to discovernhis recollections of Hemingway asnpersonage, celebrity, model and writer.nUnlike so many other literateurs, Kriengel does not despise the man he once songreatly admired, but he does believe thatnone cannot today “read without apologizingnfor what was once his [Hemingway’s]nglory.” Kriegel loads a great dealnof significance onto Hemingway; yet,nfor all his global fame, Hemingway wasnnot a very American sort of writer. Henstarted out as an overly emotional reporternwith a flair for words who becamenswiftly Europeanized and a pet of thenwealthy. His attraction to bullfightingnwas nearly that of an enamored tourist;nnothing he ever wrote added a feathernto what Spanish writers had far earliernspun from the arena and its lower-classnheroes. Hemingway’s emphasis on couragenand the posture one assumed againstnthe universe is reflective of Spanishnphilosophy and deals with qualities seldomnexpressed by American males.nThese are avenues Kriegel does not explore;nhis emphasis is on the personalnnnHemingway and his influence uponnyoung men of a literary bent. In thisnKriegel’s touch is sure and candid andnappealing. His conclusion is somewhatnstark; he counts Hemingway, because ofnhis suicide, as “one of our losers.” Thatnis too curt: the manner of a man’s deathnshould not entirely wipe out the accumulationsnof years of work.nNevertheless, the professor, leaningnon his crutches or swinging down thenstreet, his eyes alert to oil slicks andnother perils, has caught us in his reveries.nFatherhood and its responsibilities,nconversations with a retired big-leaguenballplayer turned literature student;nepisode after episode enlists our interest.nThere is no doubt that Leonard Kriegelnhas a right to be proud of himself and hisnstatus, his skill and his life. In recentnyears, however, his hard-won status andnconfidence seem to have been subjectednto a series of shocks: from women’s liberation,nfrom colleagues and sons ofnfriends emerging from homosexual closets,nfrom the emergence of blacks, fromnother manifestations of the sexual revolution.nKriegel’s definition of manhood,nin other words, has been expanded. Henhas now decided that “the real issuesnfacing men today are not sexual at all.nThe real issues still have to do withncourage, with the willingness to risknone’s substance as a man .. .”Hesalutesnblacks and homosexuals for taking thatnsort of risk, though not many blacks willnthank him for the association.nTo this conclusion one must demur.nWhat is under way is not an expansionnof manhood, but its diminution intonunimportance under the pressures ofnbasically disdainful revolutionaries. Historiansnhave long known that any societynwhich dissolves its definitions of virilitynand courage into an acceptance of outragenand perversity is in serious trouble.nFortunately the trend of internationalnevents is moving us rapidly past thentrivial, and toward tests which willnplumb the substance of American manhoodnin ways that will leave little doubtnabout its quality. DnJttty/Augttst 19«0n