Sid’s myopic memoir

Trunk, I really enjoyed Andrew Sullivan’s review of Sidney Blumenthal’s book. Although Sullivan’s “Gospel” analogy works well, Blumenthal has always reminded me of a character from the Soviet Union of tbe 1930s. Sullivan’s review does nothing to disabuse me of this image. Blumenthal comes off as a misfit whose worship of Party and power eliminates (rather than trumps) all other considerations. For my imaginary Sid, 1917 provides the same central, justifying moment that the 1960 torch light parade for Kennedy apparently repesents for the real Sid.
The Soviet Sids of the 1930s ended up writing (or at least signing) abject confessions of guilt and error. Our Sid ends up writing an 800 page myopic memoir that, preumably, few will read.


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