look at Avedon’s full frontalnmug shots, which claim to findnthe basic truth of each subject,nin order to realize how muchnartificiality of style and substance,nthey encapsulate. At thensame time, one becomes awarenthat a spontaneous grace, kindnessnand decency of form residenin the photography of CecilnBeaton. DnPerceptiblesnAmin Saikal: The Rise andnFall of the Shah; Princeton UniversitynPress; Princeton, New Jersey.nAmin Saikal, an Australian-nAfghan political scientist, hasnsupplied perhaps the first scholarlynpostrevolutionary accountnof the Shah’s Iran. Unfortunatelynit is a disappointing worknwhich answers few of the questionsnraised by the Iraniannrevolution.nSaikal argues that the Shahnwas overdependent on Americannsupport and overanxious aboutnthreats from his Soviet and “radical”nArab neighbors. He waitedntoo long to start his modernizationnand reform measures. Whennfinally begun in the 1960’s, thesenmeasures were overambitious,npoorly planned and hobbled by ancorrupt bureaucracy. The Shahnput too much emphasis on developingnmilitary strength; his economicnplans produced “growthnrather than development” whilenhis regime was brutal and repressive.nSaikal suggests that Iran’s politicalnsystem lacked “safetynvalves.” The Shah’s “White Revolution”ngenerated new socialngroups with rising politicalnand economic expectations, butnhe failed to make politicalnchanges to parallel his economicnand social reforms. This sensiblenargument, which puts IrannSOH^H^I^HMnChronicles of Culturensquarely in line with the usualnexplanation for modern revolutions,nis not only weakly developed,nbut Saikal also avoids examiningnthe ways in which Iranndeparts from the traditional patternnof revolution. The structurenand social basis of the oppositionnto the Shah in the late 70’snis not precisely spelled out. Whynvarious groups supported thenrevolution is hardly explainednand remains an interesting problem,nparticularly since Saikalnnotes that the Shah’s “WhitenRevolution” in the 60’s “wasnable to mobilize some sections ofnthe masses in support of his leadershipnand rule.”nSaikal fails to compare Irannwith other modernizing countriesnin the Middle East. ThenShah’s regime was undoubtedlynbrutal by Western standards, butnwas it unusually bad by Iraniannor Middle Eastern ones.’ (Ethnicnand religious minorities seem tonhave been treated better in Irannthan in other Middle Easternnstates.) In fact, even Saikal admitsnthat Iran’s economicnHypocrisy as HeroismnIrvin Faust: Newsreel; Harcourt,nBrace, Jovanovich; NewnYorlc.nby Edward J. WalshnNewsreel is contemporary fiction’snanswer to the televisionnsoap opera, for it has no end. Thenmain character steps directly outnof the Woody Allen cinematicntradition of talented but patheticallynbewildered New YorknMr. Walsh is with the UnitednStates Industrial Council innNashville, Tennessee.ngrowth rate had “reached an impressivenstage”; he suggests itnwas actually greater than thencountry could absorb. It is alsonquestionable whether redistributingnwealth was a sensible aimnat Iran’s stage of development.nAnd unless one accepts Saikal’snbelittling of Soviet and Arab aggressiveness,nthe Shah’s foreignnand defense policies were not asnwholly mistaken as he maintains.nFinally Saikal notes, but doesnnot discuss or explain, the factnthat the revolution was spearheadednby reactionary fanaticsnhostile to the most benevolentnaspects of the Shah’s rule. Henprefers to prate about the Iranians’nalleged “traditional yearningnfor freedom and justice.” Itnis far from clear that what thenIranian revolutionaries yearnednfor had anything to do with whatnwe would consider freedom andnjustice. The Shah may have beenna “bad guy” by Western democraticnstandards (though notncompared to other autocrats);nbut that does not explain hisndownfall. (AJL) Dnwriters of Jewish heritage. Likenthem, he spends all his time wonderingnwhy his youth seemednbetter than his adulthood.nFaust is trying to sell a tonguein-cheeknsaga of a ruggedindividualist,nan Army hero of the oldnschool who finds himself in thenno-man’s land of postwar Americannliterary culture. It is a fascinatingnidea; unfortunately it isnall talk. The major character.nSpeed (Manny) Finestone is anmess, and no less so for his conversationsnwith himself, ofnwhich he and his hurt feelingsnnnare the principal topic. His privatendialogues deal with his idioticnadventures with women, athleticsnand, in the end, a shoppingmallnsalesgirl who is given thenpersona of the Perfect Woman, ‘neven while she deceives her husbandnduring his military tour innVietnam. The idea is thatnthrough all this—the Cold Warnfever, McCarthyism, the Eisenhowernblahs (though General,nbut not President, Eisenhower isnhis idol), the Johnson-Vietnamnagony—the hero remains himself,nuntainted by the shallownessnand hypocrisy that surroundnhim. The problem is thatnhe is a shiftless dullard whonyearns for the glorious, simplenwar years not because they werenglorious, but because they werensimple—at least to him. He isnreally no different than thentransparent, posturing writersnaround him, in that he is obsessednwith himself. His writingncareer, his self-indulgent fantasies,nhis affairs and social connectionsnare the centerpiece ofnthis book, while the ramblingnreminiscences of the war arenincoherent and bizarre.nUltimately, the rugged individualistnis a sad charade. Hisntotally unbelievable confusion atnthe political and cultural evolutionnthat takes place before hisneyes, and his indifference to itsnconsequences, make the portraitnof the successful New York mannof letters no more than a caricature.nErnest Hemingway put onnthe same kind of act, pretendingnthat, as the old world was collapsingnaround him, he stoodnlike a rock of tradition and heroismnagainst the almost-overnightndestruction of both. Irvin Faustnis trying to make his book thensuccess story of a man who didnthe same but, like Hemingway,nSpeed Finestone indulges innsome very unattractive excesses.nThat sort of thing is usuallyncalled hypocrisy, but it is worsenwhen it is flaunted as heroism,nI demanding acceptance. Dn