Robert E. Lee remains one of the great heroic figures--and one of the great enigmas--of the Civil War era.
A host of factors, from his own noble stocism and reticince, to his adoption as a symbol of reconciliation in the decades after the great war, have conspired to rob Lee of much of his humanity. More than 130 years after Lee's death, Roy Blount does a remarkable job of transfusing the blood of life back into the marble man.
If you're looking for a comprehensive biography of Lee, Emory Thomas' might be a better choice. But if you're looking for a briefer sketch that manages to cover the outline of his life, while providing some insights to the upbringing, education and other factors that shaped his character, this book is an excellent choice.

Blount helps us understand the real Lee for a change, not the "marble man" admired and revered by simple Civil War buffs. Those looking for yet another breathless account of the same old stories will be intellectually overmatched by the insightful, sensitive and illuminating portrait Blount presents. A real contribution to understanding Lee, the Civil War, and the mindset which led the nation to and through that disaster.

This is the fourth Penguin Lives title I've read (the other three being Auchincloss on Wilson, Keegan on Churchill, and Johnson on Napoleon), and for pure biography, this one is the best of the four. Other reviewers who criticize the relative superficiality of Blount's analysis need to recognize that the Penguin Lives are not intended to be comprehensive, ground-breaking studies. That just couldn't be done in under 200 pages.

No, these books -- essays, almost -- are introductions to, surveys of, key historical figures. The question shouldn't be, Did Blount give us all the answers about Lee? but rather, Has Blount painted a sharp enough portrait that we have a clear idea of who the man was, why he did what he did, and what impact his life had? I think the answer to that latter question is a decisive Yes.

Unlike Keegan and Johnson, Blount is not a professional historian. But he's done a fine job with a subject all biographers admit to be a man very difficult to get close to. This fact in itself forms part of Blount's theme, as he explores the roots of Lee's famous reserve and inapproachability. He largely avoids pop psychoanalysis -- when he wades into those waters, he tells us he's doing so -- and his insights seem to make sense.

I particularly appreciated the way Blount addressed the issue that defines (many, if not most) modern treatments of Lee: the question of whether he can justly be called a Great Man while having fought, if not explicitly for slavery itself, at least for a nation and a culture in which slavery played a central role. The fact that Blount sees nuances to the discussion, instead of making the absolute, unarguable, definitive statement "Lee = slavery = evil", may cause ideologues, or people who just don't know any better, to reject his reasonings entirely. But that would be their loss because this section, too, is rewarding reading.

I said this book is good pure biography. That's because Blount is an excellent writer and storyteller, as well as a fine presenter and interpreter of facts. As a "humorist," (I've always hated that term), he has a keen eye for the ridiculous, both in human behavior and in historians' more labored interpretations.

So, no, this isn't a scholarly, definitive, biography that will become the new gold standard in Civil War Studies. But as a highly readable thumbnail portrait of one of the most loved and reviled, admired, misunderstood, and dare I say, greatest, figures in American history, I think it will be hard to beat.