_______________ THE PRINCE WHO CAME DOWN FROM HIS TOWER BY JOHN LEONARD (06/02/98)
	In John Leonard's oft-incomprehensible take on RFK and the new books about him we get yet another example of the reviewer's willful obliqueness and Aquarian narcissism, but almost nothing gauging the relative merits of the books ostensibly being reviewed. It's a form of contempt for the readers who have genuine interest in the subject but don't give a rat's ass that Leonard has some street cred with Toni Morrison. And, of course, his condescending tone is unbearable. While it's perfectly acceptable to Leonard to make a gigantic leap comparing El Cid in the 11th century and the Robert Kennedy of 30 years ago, he takes to task the young authors who in their late 20s and early 30s have the audacity to try to write RFK histories. He makes a point of noting that Maxwell Kennedy was 3, Michael Knox Beran was only 2 and Jeff Sheshol wasn't even born when RFK was shot. It's Leonard's way of saying in his hackneyed, "hep" prose, "Stay Away. Kennedy's OURS." But beyond all of the baby-boomer self-absorption Leonard exhibits, it's important to note that we all are still feeling the effects and trying to understand the legacy of Robert Kennedy's assassination. Even for those of us born after the event. In fact, in this sorry, empty era of politics, the legacy of both Kennedy assassinations is even more important to understand. Do we get a sense of that? Very little. Instead we get Leonard's definitive account as recent history's arbiter. We know he doesn't agree with Beran's assessment that RFK was an emerging neo-con, but we don't know why. Leonard simply dismisses the claim out of hand. We also get this critique, seemingly of Robert Kennedy -- who Leonard said was the last politician he cared about: "Once more tediously, history consists of what white men do in the daytime, for which they get famous." We also get yet another view of RFK as a brooding Hamlet, instead of as a real, vital human being. So what is it? Should we care about this famous white guy or not? Well, even Leonard comes to the conclusion we should. But he never goes further and says why. Leonard rips the Upper West Side liberals of 30 years ago and sides -- although we never really know why -- with Morrison's apparent pro-Kennedy stance because he shot hoops with some kids in D.C. Instead of anything instructive in Leonard's review, we get another tired take on the "revolution" of '68 and the radicalism it and RFK promised. Ironically, for all of the criticism Leonard heaps upon these new histories because they don't tell us anything new, neither does he. -- Jay Brida Jamaica Plain, Mass. It's difficult to describe the emotions I felt as I read the piece by John Leonard on Bobby Kennedy. How it conjured up old memories of a time in our nation we call Camelot. How Robert Kennedy represented not just a rebirth but a better stronger reincarnation of that time. I was stunned by the death of John F. Kennedy in 1963. Like most of the nation, I mourned the loss of our president, but I -- being very young -- didn't really understand nor did I feel the deep emotional connection to the man he was and what he stood for. I was 20 years old then, but in the next five years I became more in tune with the world around me, our nation's leaders and its would-be leaders. More than anything it was the sound and sight of our nation's soul rebelling against itself that affected me. Bobby Kennedy had become for me the last thread of sanity, the thread that would bind us all and bring us back to Camelot. The plastic burgers and plastic fries of this new silicon world have over the years dulled my senses. Time has not however taken away the memory of a morning 30 years ago when I heard on my car radio that Robert Kennedy had been shot. It's hard to explain to my 12-year-old son why the memory of a time so long ago still has meaning and why my eyes still water at the thought. -- Jesus C. Verdugo Hayward, Calif. John Leonard sums up succinctly his leftist attitude with one sentence, which I found refreshingly honest (many leftists think this but dare not say it out loud): "I think the trouble with this country is that the peasants have money." Is it any wonder that the "peasants" (how insulting to all the hard-working people out here) overwhelmingly rejected leftist ideals, which were mostly popular with spoiled and guilty middle-class kids. Mr. Leonard would rather the "peasants" should suffer for the sake of ideological purity. How inconvenient for him that that ol' debbil capitalism did more for the People's well-being than any amount of leftist revolutionary theory ever could. I, for one, am happy that the working people have money. That Mr. Leonard then advocates pointless murder in the next sentence is almost an afterthought, but also serves to reflect his leftist arrogance. Murder in the name of "economic justice" is what Lenin, Stalin and Mao did so well, and the tens of millions who died would undoubtedly condemn Mr. Leonard for his thoughtless statements. Of course, many of them were just "peasants," eh, Mr. Leonard? -- Tom Biggs
_______________ BUL[****] BY DAVID HOROWITZ (06/01/98)
	I generally find Salon quite enjoyable and well-written. So what's your excuse for David Horowitz? Talk about lazy, uninspiring rant. Having just finished his lightweight brain dump on "Bulworth" and the Communist Manifesto, I'm sitting here wondering, can't you guys find an interesting, intelligent conservative voice? Sure, I disagree with Horowitz politically, but that's not the issue. It's really about actually having something interesting to say, which Horowitz seems not to have. Horowitz refers repeatedly to "Bulworth's" Marxist message, but having seen the movie, I can't figure out where Horowitz gets this? In the broadest strokes, "Bulworth" attacks big money, race politics that ignore class and politicians that focus on contributions over ideology. Where's Marx? Perhaps Horowitz meant Groucho, but, in any event, some examples of Beatty's fellow traveling would have made this "critique" more than a lame lead-in for his even lamer rant on the Communist Manifesto. Whatever weaknesses Marx has (throughout his writings, not just the slim volume of the Manifesto), his works, at their core, are about taking a critical approach to the problems and ideas confronting the world. How can people like Horowitz, with their ahistorical dogmatism, try to take a moral high ground? On what basis? You just know that among friends, Horowitz called Eric Hobsbawm "one of communism's chief intellectual spear chuckers," but that in public discourse, that appeared too racist and needed to be replaced with the less obvious "carrier." I can see why Horowitz cares little for the labor theory of value: He doesn't add much. -- Justin Wolfe I must admit to being confused as to David Horowitz's perception of the size and strength of the "old socialist left," to quote here from his review of "Bulworth." At the beginning of his article we are informed that the "dead and buried" leftists are making a bit of a resurgence; by the end of his argument we are told the leftists have "enormous power in American culture" and are "one of the main drags on social progress today." Could we please have a clearer estimate from him on how many Marxists are out there today gumming up the works? -- Bruce Heinly SALON | June 4, 1998