By Amy Bloom
Random House 2018
240 p. Historical Fiction
I first encountered the author Amy Bloom when I was sent a
copy of
Lucky Us
to review. I loved it, and I couldn’t wait to read
White Houses about the
great woman, Eleanor Roosevelt and her lover, the journalist and author, Lorena
Hickok.
In an essay on
Book
Page, Bloom says that she first learned about the love affair between
Eleanor and “Hick” (as she was called) in a 1992 biography of Eleanor Roosevelt
by Blanche Wiesen Cook. Apparently there are 3000 letters between Eleanor and
Hick in the FDR Library in Hyde Park. At first, when historians read Cook’s
biography, they were appalled that she had written about the relationship.
Even, Ken Burns, in making his documentary about the Roosevelts, thought the
relationship was just gossip. Blum says, however, that the letters are so
dramatic and love-filled that their relationship could not have been platonic.
Other historians have come to accept that as well.
In 2018,
the idea is more dramatic than scandalous,
but the thought of a homosexual relationship
for a first lady makes for great
fiction, which Amy Bloom has brilliantly and tenderly created.
Lorena narrates the story of how they met, how they loved, how
they separated, and how they reunited when FDR died in 1945. Lorena is a
marvelous character from a very poor background, raped by her father as a young
girl, sent to live as a housemaid when her mother died, and found work for a
time in the circus. Because of her tenacity and brilliance, she became a journalist,
and she met Eleanor on FDR’s first political campaign. She had to resign from
the AP because of a loss of objectivity about the first couple, and Franklin
helped her get a job within the White House. There, she was able to continue
her affair with Eleanor unrestricted and with the full approval of Franklin,
who, of course, was having his own
affairs.
What we learn about Eleanor is pretty much what we have already
come to know about her, historically. She was gracious, charming, and kind to
everyone who crossed her path. During the years of their affair, Lorena was in
and out of Eleanor’s life, all while Eleanor became a powerful figure in
American culture. Lorena knew Eleanor in a far more intimate way than the world
did, and the picture we get of Eleanor, from Lorena’s perspective, is a loving
and passionate woman, anxious to pursue a relationship outside the restrictive
boundaries of the White House. At the same time, Lorena knew that Eleanor was a
woman of principle. “Eleanor thought that if you were a person of advantages
and intelligence, you were responsible for every single thing you did or said
and every choice you made until the day they laid you in the ground.” Lorena always knew that Eleanor would never
leave Franklin, so, off and on, she pursued other relationships and other homes,
away from Eleanor and the pressures of life in the White House. She always
loved Eleanor, and when Franklin died, she ran to her home to comfort her as no
one else could.
Bloom’s writing is gorgeous. Lorena tells of her infatuation
with Eleanor. “And when I was the object of her love, when her eyes lit up
across the room, when she touched her fingertips to the pulse at the base of her
throat, to mark the spot for me, to mark herself, I thought that there was no
sacrifice I wouldn’t make.” I also loved the passage about middle-aged bodies. “Every
woman’s body is an intimate landscape. The hills, the valleys, the narrow
ledges, the riverbanks, the sudden eruptions of soft or crinkling hair. Here
are the plains, the fine dry slopes. Here are the woods, here is the smooth
path to the only door I wish to walk through. Eleanor’s body is the landscape
of my true home.”
What we learn about Franklin Roosevelt is pretty much what
we already knew, and other than this secret affair, our understanding of
Eleanor doesn’t change much, either.
White Houses flows so well, and is written
with great style and immense feeling. The
Kirkus reviewer says, “Bloom elevates this addition to the secret-lives-of
the-Roosevelts genre through elegant prose and by making Lorena Hickok a
character engrossing enough to steal center stage from Eleanor Roosevelt.”
I was a toddler on a
train ride with my mother on the day that Franklin Roosevelt died, and even as
young as I was, I can remember the chill that swept over the passengers as the
news spread throughout the car. It is a moment I will never forget.
