Books like Longstreet — picked by fans

Although this book is less about slavery as it happened and more about what took place after the Civil War ended slavery in the United States, it is one of the best books I’ve ever seen that explains just how America still hasn’t recovered from its legacy.

This is one of those books where I kept underlining passages, such as one where the racist Southerner said that slavery was like an “apprenticeship” for “savage races” or how nostalgia for a romantic version of the Civil War poisoned our understanding of history. I want to read this book three more times so that I can fully absorb its wise lessons.

I was mesmerized and horrified by this 100th-anniversary recounting of the massacre. I didn’t just turn pages. I tore through the book, not believing that such a thing could happen in modern America.

The destruction of what was once considered a thriving Negro Wall Street and the slaughter of its people led me to an in-depth study of the Reconstruction riots a half-century before this one.

Ever since I was a little kid in Springfield, Illinois (Lincoln’s hometown), I found racism hard to understand. Where did it come from? Why is it so rooted in our society?

This book taught me about black dreams, freedom, and rights ravaged by widespread violence and intimidation. I was particularly impressed by General Lewis Merrill, assigned by Grant to prosecute KKK excesses in the northern counties of South Carolina; he was a man who, like me, could not believe the cruel outrages he was told… until he saw them for himself.

I live in an area that once held KKK rallies and parades. To this day, though much reduced, the Klan still manages to make its presence known.

I bought this book to better understand the complex cultural phenomenon that was the original Ku Klux Klan, also known as the Invisible Empire. I was pleased to learn of its origins and horrified by its unbridled violence. The Klan itself has long since been dispersed, but its bitter beliefs live on.

I was intrigued by this book. John Randolph, the madman of the title, was well known to me as the fiery and erratic defender of slavery, representing antebellum Virginia in the U.S. House of Representatives. He was sometimes for abolition and sometimes not. Who knew that this mostly unrepentant white slaveholder in his contested will freed hundreds of the enslaved?

But not so fast, I learned. There was much more to the story than a simple gesture of humanity granted posthumously. There was much litigation over his true intentions. And what would happen to those he manumitted once they resettled in the free state of Ohio? I found this biography full of complexity, nuance, and surprises. I loved this book—a largely unknown story well told. 

I found Erik Larson’s book to be a dramatic page-turner, a gripping historical narrative I could not put down. Most readers may know how the story ends, with the 1861 shelling and surrender of Fort Sumter, the federal fortress in Charleston harbor, that propelled the nation into four years of Civil War.

But from this book, I learned of so many twists and turns that led to this watershed event that is often lost in other accounts. This is so much more than a military history of the fraught months between the 1860 presidential election and the climatic surrender of Sumter five months later. I learned much also from the finely crafted portraits of the protagonists, and of the conflict’s origins deeply rooted in slavery.

This new take on radical Black abolitionist Nat Turner surprised—and enlightened me. If you’ve always thought of Turner as no more than a violent insurrectionist hellbent on the massacre of whites in southside Virginia, think again. There was much more to him, I learned in this out-of-the-box biography of the man both vilified and idolized since the infamous 1831 killing spree.

He was immortalized in the fictionized best-seller Nat Turner’s Rebellion, but this new take shows that truth can be stranger than fiction. I learned that Turner, rather than a revolutionary motivated solely by hate, drew heavily on the Old Testament and other religious sources as he and his followers terrorized and murdered in what they deemed to be a righteous cause.      

I loved this book for its expansive view of the Civil War era, extending from the election of Abraham Lincoln through the immediate postwar Reconstruction well into the 20th century. As history has taught us, gains made soon after the Confederate defeat were soon lost, and battles remained to be fought over the same constitutional grounds for decades—and are still being fought today.

Historian Manisha Sinha has crafted a sweeping new history that relates the “lords of the lash” with “the lords of the loom,” linking Southern slaveholders to Northern industrialists. I found this connection convincing and essential for understanding not only the conflict but its tentacles that encompassed the entire nation for decades into the present. This is essential reading to understand our past and present.

This is a fitting companion to Ball’s earlier book Slaves in the Family, a meticulous account of his paternal ancestors’ slave-owning history and their biracial progeny.

In this book, Ball, a talented and engaging writer, dives deep into the buried story of a maternal forbearer in New Orleans, Constant Lecorgne, a working-class white creole. With novelistic flair, Ball takes us along with Lecorgne in his peregrinations through Louisiana’s violent and chaotic reactionary politics in the 1860s and 1870s. Ball faced a daunting challenge: to humanize Lecorgne without either sugarcoating his reprehensible behavior or forgiving him for it.

Few books I’ve read have so vividly captured the mentality of outspoken white supremacist “foot soldier.” I was often repelled by Lecorgne, but I wanted to keep reading. This is an essential book if we’re to begin to understand why ordinary white men were willing, even eager, to participate in the racist counter-revolution… show more.

I discovered and used The World That Made New Orleans as a source for my book.

Upon opening the book, I was gleefully surprised to discover what an informative, interesting, and fun read it is. Sublette describes the French origins of the city in the early 1700s which involved wild parties, debauchery, tragic exploratory expeditions, and a massive Ponzi scheme that used Louisiana and the fictional gold mines there to defraud most every rich person in France, eventually crashing the entire French economy.

He then took me on a thrilling journey through the Spanish and early American periods to quadroon balls, Congo Square, and so many other fascinating places. I knew the city’s history was interesting, but reading The World That Made New Orleans blew me away.