The General

Dare I call a 707-page biography a page-turner? For once, the fake enthusiasm of blurb prose rings true. I did 'finish the book in one sitting, ' as another chestnut has it, though the sitting was a very flight of 16 hours. And why? Because Jonathan Fenby, a former editor of The Observer of London and a prolific author, knows how to turn breadth and depth into enthrallment. --Joseph Joffe Jonathan Fenby's biography, entitled simply The General, is large but not overweight. . . .While not hiding de Gaulle's vanities and conceits (more highlighted than alleviated by odd moments of self-doubt), Mr. Fenby does not question that de Gaulle supplied his disheartened countrymen with a necessary myth, about himself and about France's place in the world; he made little distinction between the two. . . . Mr. Fenby misses little in the way of nice detail. A keen biography conveying the French general's driving sense of destiny. . . . With a nod to previous (French) studies by Jean Lacouture, Eric Roussel, Alain Peyrefitte, as well as the general's own extensive memoirs, this work is astute and psychologically probing. Fenby's will be an obligatory purchase. Charles de Gaulle has no rival as the most significant Frenchman of the 20th century. What he signified remains a matter of opinion; that he saved France from ignominy, after the surrender of 1940 and the humiliating Nazi occupation, is beyond question. In the dire days immediately preceding Marshal P tain's call for an armistice, the then "unknown," still belligerent junior general was recognized by Winston Churchill as "a man of destiny." It took one to recognize one. Both warriors were also eloquent historians, not least of their own myths. Each had a mystic belief in national identity; each believed that he was its incarnation; each came to regard the other as both hero and villain.Churchill authorized de Gaulle's broadcast from London, on June 18, 1940, with its proclamation that France had lost a battle but had not lost the war. Although heard by many fewer in France than later claimed to have been inspired by it, the (two-star) general's brave words made him the rallying point for "Free Frenchmen." His self-importance, however, exasperated his allies. In 1943, during the lead-up to the invasion of Europe by the Allies, Roosevelt, quite openly, and Churchill, more furtively, tried to oust the general from his self-appointed eminence. Finding it easier to embrace old enemies than to forgive old friends, de Gaulle told Stalin that same year, "With all my heart, I hope you get to Berlin before the Americans." Through all of his ups and downs, de Gaulle knew how to hang in, nurse his grudges and bide his time.If the general had a majestic, occasionally prescient, view of world history, his Olympian vision was narrowed by spite. He could not forgive the English for victory at Agincourt in 1415 or at Waterloo in 1815 (he often compared himself, favorably, with Napoleon). The only American for whom he had unmitigated respect was another general: In 1944, he told Eisenhower, in English, after the latter had apologized for underestimating him: "You are a man." Later

Jonathan Fenby reported from France for a variety of newspapers, including the Economist, Christian Science Monitor, Times of London, Guardian, and London Observer. Married to a Frenchwoman, he was, to his surprise, made a Chevalier of the Legion d'Honneur and the Ordre du Merite in 1990. He is also the author of acclaimed biographies of Chiang Kai-shek and Charles de Gaulle--called a page-turner by the New York Times Book Review, which wrote: Fenby knows how to turn breadth and depth into enthrallment."--among other works. He lives in England.