Political Nostrodamus

I've never given much thought to Daniel Patrick Moynihan. I know that he was a US Senator from New York, and that before that he served in some capacity in four Presidential administrations. I know that Richard Nixon loved him even though he was a Democrat, and that he had some controversial things to say about race and welfare. That's where my knowledge ends.

Because I'm a presidential campaign geek, I've been reading The Making of the President 1964, not because 1964 is a compelling race, although it is a compelling race despite the landslide outcome, but because nearly all of White's books are out of print, and this is one I found in a used bookstore. So far the most interesting reading is this statement by Moynihan, made in the summer of 1964:

"What are the issues in this campaign? 'Issues' are talk about what's already happened or happening...But these aren't issues, really. Only a handful of people can see the advance issues. Can you explain that the greatest issue twenty years from now may be what's beginning in our knowledge of the human cell, and biology, and reproduction? Can you explain that we're beginning to be able to control our environment, maybe even change the weather - and discuss what we should do about it? Or can you talk about what we have to do to keep old people from growing lonely? Or can you ask them whether they think the purpose of industry should be changed from making things to making jobs?

Maybe we're entering a new phase of government. Maybe the old legislative phase is coming to an end, the time when you passed a new law which set up a new bureau with a new appropriation to run new machinery. What lies ahead may not be problems answerable by law, or by government at all. But that's nothing you can discuss now in 1964 - that's years and years ahead."

Has anybody ever gotten the future so right? Too bad Lyndon Johnson couldn't abide by him (Moynihan was a big Bobby Kennedy supporter); too bad we can't all see the future, standing there right in front of us.

Beast Without Burden

Even as the economy continues to tank, the business of business rushes onward. Perhaps you've heard that Tina Brown's website, The Daily Beast, launched this week. Can the magic that she worked on Vanity Fair and The New Yorker (and even the short-lived Talk) be translated to the Web? Follow the link and check it out for yourself.

The Daily Beast isn't quite a full-fledged webzine. It's an aggregator, meaning that the editors cull content from all over the web. Although the site contains some original content, as well as blogs, it's main focus is distilling what's news and buzzworthy onto a easily navigated homepage and providing links to those stories.

There are other aggregators out there. Some, like Digg, are reader-chosen; the stories most often "digged" by readers top the list. Others, like Huffington Post and Daily Beast, are "curated" by editors. I go to the Huffington Post not to see what's popular on the web, but to see what's new in liberal politics, just as I would go to Drudge to see what's new in conservative politics. Most curated sites cater to particular sensibilities, particular audiences.

I'm not sure what niche TDB is meant to fill or who it's intending to reach, but in its first week, the editors undoubtedly don't yet know what it's niche will be, either. Right now, it appears mainly to be a destination for people who like Tina Brown, which I guess means people like me, in that I have always enjoyed her publications. I sense it will be a place for me to go when I don't have the time to read longer-form content in Slate or Salon, and am interested in news beyond the narrowly political, financial, or gossipy. I'll give it a shot, in other words. It beats watching my net worth disappear day by day.

Since it's new, TDB is also currently ad-free, which is refreshing. It's design is clean, and right now it can be enjoyed free of clutter. Oh, and one feature really worth checking out: the Video Cheat Sheet, an accumulation of must-see clips from around the Web. It's worth a visit just to find the view-worthy in one place. Why watch the Dow plummet when you can catch Bill Murray's SNL cameo from last night instead?

Sermon on the Mount

Before she wrote a word of fiction, Edith Wharton was an interior design enthusiast. She wasn't an interior decorator because she needed no profession, having been born into the original Jones family, the ones we've spent 150 years trying to keep up with. Her first published work was The Decoration of Houses, an interior design manifesto. She put her words into action in the design and decoration of the Mount, her country "cottage" in Lenox, MA.

Wharton spent happy years at the Mount; it's where she wrote some of her best-known works, where she spent days hanging out with her buddy Henry James, where she and her husband-of-convenience, Teddy, amicably worked out the details of their divorce by letters sent across the hall, from one bedroom to the next. Wharton lost the Mount in the divorce and went into exile in France, and thus began a decline in fortunes for the home that ironically mirrors the downward spiral of Lilly Bart. The Mount was in private hands, then became a boarding school for girls, and then for years housed a theater company. Finally, in the early 1990s, restoration of the Mount began; it's recently been open to the public as an incompletely restored museum.

Sadly, the Mount is about to go into foreclosure. In fact, if $3 million isn't raised by the end of business today, the bank will take it. You can read the saga of the Mount's financial troubles in this week's New Yorker (I can't link to it because it won't go online until next week). The purchase of Wharton's library from a British book dealer led to some of the financial difficulties, but the truth of the matter is that the museum has been operating at a deficit for years.

Most house museums operate at a deficit, as it turns out. There's been a trend in recent years of these small museums being turned back to private hands; trustees try to turn these historic treasures over to the state, but the state wants no part of an expensive losing proposition. Geeks like me, who will drive out of the way to tour an historic property, are an endangered species; geeks like me who care about the preservation of our architectural history to the point where we become philanthropic about it are even more endangered.

What do we lose when historic properties revert to private hands, to become country clubs or condos? Watch this slide show to understand the Mount's importance. A property doesn't need to have been designed or inhabited by a person of distinction to be significant, though. To our contemporaries, our homes say something about who we are, how we see ourselves. More importantly, future generations can learn valuable lessons about the way we live now by studying our homes. I learned more about the culture of slavery by touring restored plantations that I ever did by reading a book. In a couple hundred years someone will learn more about contemporary suburban life by touring a restored McMansion (assuming one stands that long) than by reading a history of the exurbs.

What's the solution? I don't know. Start by becoming a geek. Support house museums by visiting them. Support historic preservation efforts. Some things just aren't meant to become condos.

UPDATE! The bank has extended Wharton Restoration's outstanding loan due date until May 24. So far, $800K has been raised. In the meantime, the Mount remains open for tours until May 9.