Review: The Plot Against America, Philip Roth

I finished reading The Plot Against America last night. First let me say this review will be brief and without spoilers, because my dear husband hasn’t read it yet. It was one of those books that you are sad when it is done – I read it too quickly and endeavored to slow down a bit at the end because I didn’t want the experience to be over.

The basic premise of the book is what might have happened had Charles Lindbergh accepted a Republican nomination and become President in 1940 instead of Roosevelt. I hadn’t known it before, but there is some evidence that Lindbergh was an anti-Semite, based on some things he said and wrote. The Plot Against America takes him on a path that leads him to be a Nazi sympathizer, and, well, if you want to see where Roth is going with all this, read the book. The story is told from the point of view of a young Jewish boy in America – in fact Roth himself – which adds nuances an “adult” narrator might not have had.

Like any good piece of postmodern literature, fiction reads as fact and the final disclosure is murky and without a credible source. An underlying theme of the story – one that resonates with me today – is what it means to be an American, and what happens if the character of America is changed drastically. Roth’s writing can be a bit pedantic at times, but not in a way that distracts from the reading or enjoyment of the novel – in fact it adds to the dazed credibility of the tale. It was a dark and fantastic journey – and one I am sorry is over.