You will learn more about the immediate events leading up to the Civil War then you ever did in history class. But instead of a broad, general view of politics and economics, Larson focuses on the men behind the scenes. Featuring the passively frustrating President James Buchanan, his treasonous Secretary of War John Floyd (outsmarted by Unionist yinzers!), recently elected Abraham Lincoln, incestuous planter James Hammond, adamant secessionist Edmund Riffin, no-nonsense abolitionist Capt. Doubleday, and sympathizing but duty-first Major Anderson, the commander at Ft. Sumter. But despite the efforts of Northern compromisers and Unionists, war was inevitable. Problem was, the "petulant" gentlemen of the South all knew it was an awful, outdated institution. But the money was too good. Risking war and the deaths of hundreds of thousands was worth it to preserve their lifestyle. Out of the 169 South Carolina white slavers who decided on succession and the fate of an entire nation, 40% all went to the same college and the decision took eight minutes.

What I love most about this book is that Erik Larson gets right to the point: "The crux of the crisis was in fact slavery. This was obvious to all at the time, if not to [20th century revisionists] who sought to cast the conflict in the bloodless terms of states' rights." The Civil War occurred because a small, incredibly rich, white portion of the population wanted to preserve their "chivalrous" way of life, on the backs of millions of individuals. What's more, Larson quotes Southern planters and politicians directly, so there's no denying it. He cuts the rose-tinted, magnolia blooming, sweet tea drinking atmosphere with a knife and I'm here for it. I especially enjoyed reading of Anderson's rogue night mission to move all the men from Moultrie to Sumter. The tension in that bold move is palatable, and I thought it was particularly well written. Another fantastic work from Mr. Larson! ( )

I learned far more about the Civil War than I ever did in school. Couldn't put the book down. Larson tells the story of the events leading up to the attack on Ft. Sumter which opened the American Civil War.

Focusing on several participants, the book gives the perspective from differing sides. Major Anderson was in charge of the fort for the Union although he was somewhat of a Southern sympathizer. Mary Chestnut, the wife of a prominent planter was definitely the "southern lady" but with some conflicted views of slavery. Edmund Ruffin (who I had never heard of) was a radical Southerner working toward secession. The journey of Abraham Lincoln from Illinois to Washington DC for the inauguration was also so interesting.

Another interesting facet of the book was the Southern idea of chivalry and their "Bible-based" ideas of slavery.

The entire book really is just a lead in to the actual attack on Sumter and all of the maneuverings and postering that went before. It was definitely not a surprise attack.

Great read! ( )

The surrender of Fort Sumter and the start of the Civil War . Fantastic book for history lover. ( )

Another in the many books by Larson that I have enjoyed. This is an almost day by day (if not hour by hour) account of how the Civil War started, focusing on Fort Sumter. The only complaint, which I share with some reviewers is the author's almost ignoring of the slavery issue and its cruelty. It's almost as if the author says "Oh, by the way there was this slavery thing". Taking that as a given in the narrative, an otherwise solid book.

WASHINGTON POST:

Erik Larson vividly captures the struggle for Fort Sumter
‘The Demon of Unrest’ zooms in on a place, time and small group of actors whose individual dramas encapsulate broader events in the run-up to the Civil War

Review by Adam Goodheart
April 26, 2024 at 8:30 a.m. EDT

So many books on the American Civil War have been published in the past 160 years that it’s been estimated they average out to at least one per day since the surrender at Appomattox. Still, they keep coming, rank upon rank, a relentless army of paper and ink.

That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Every generation revises its understanding of the conflict and its causes, heavily influenced by the context of the times. A century or so ago, in an era of racial denialism, historians groped for any explanation besides slavery to define the war’s origins. Half a century later, in the aftermath of the civil rights movement, White scholars began paying serious attention to the roles African Americans played in the conflict’s onset and outcome. (Black scholars had been doing so since the 19th century.) A decade ago, after the election of America’s first Black president, the war could be portrayed as an awakening of the national conscience that, despite its awful cost, would eventually bend history’s arc toward justice.
Now, the popular historian Erik Larson has written a Civil War story that — as he says in the book’s first paragraphs — was shaped by the events of Jan. 6, 2021, when the U.S. Capitol was stormed by a mob of self-proclaimed American patriots (some of whom, with no apparent sense of irony, brandished Confederate flags while howling imprecations against “traitors”).

“As I watched the Capitol assault unfold on camera,” Larson writes in “The Demon of Unrest,” “I had the eerie feeling that present and past had merged. It is unsettling that in 1861 two of the greatest moments of national dread centered on the certification of the Electoral College vote and the presidential inauguration. … I realized that the anxiety, anger, and astonishment that I felt would certainly have been experienced in 1860-1861 by vast numbers of Americans.”

Although the book’s subtitle promises a Civil War “saga” — suggesting an epic sweep across years and battles — this isn’t quite right. Rather, as he has done artfully in his previous books (which have together sold some 10 million copies), Larson zooms in tightly on a specific place, time and small group of actors whose individual dramas are supposed to encapsulate broader historical events. His main narrative ends before the war’s first drop of blood has been shed.

The object of Larson’s concentrated focus is the five-month period between Abraham Lincoln’s election to the presidency, in November 1860, and the surrender of Fort Sumter by a small federal garrison, which had held on while surrounding Southern states proclaimed their secession from the Union. Meanwhile, leaders in Washington and the nascent Confederacy maneuvered to determine the fate of the South Carolina outpost, the last significant bastion of federal authority in the rebel South. The fort finally struck its colors on April 13, after two days of relentless artillery bombardment by Confederate forces encircling Charleston Harbor, a battle that nonetheless concluded with only a few minor injuries on each side.

Perhaps no other historian has ever rendered the struggle for Sumter in such authoritative detail as Larson does here. Having picked his way through a vast labyrinth of primary and secondary sources (some of them contradictory), he emerges with a narrative that strides confidently from one chapter to the next. Few historians, too, have done a better job of untangling the web of intrigues and counter-intrigues that helped provoke the eventual attack and surrender — how a few slightly different decisions by leaders on both sides could have led to dramatically different outcomes in the secession crisis, ones that might not have involved a war at all.

Larson begins each section of his book with an epigraph taken from a 19th-century manual on the intricate protocols of dueling. This points to a central theme: that the Sumter contest was a match of strength and wits by gentlemen on both sides whose behavior was governed not just by differing strategies and ideologies, but by a strict sense of honor.

Yet it also points to some of the book’s deficiencies. Larson’s Civil War is a “mano a mano” between a few elite White men in Washington and Charleston, while the other 30 million Americans remain a vague offstage presence. This is despite the fact that the rapidly shifting tides of public opinion in both North and South ultimately determined the course of the Sumter standoff — just as much as, or even more than, the political leaders’ thrusts and parries. It’s also an odd choice given Larson’s initial claim that his narrative was shaped by the storming of the Capitol — as if he had seen that recent moment as simply a test of wits between President Donald Trump on one side and President-elect Joe Biden on the other.

Black Americans are almost always treated as an unnamed, undifferentiated mass of passive victims: Although Larson unmasks the cruelty and hypocrisy of wealthy White enslavers, Frederick Douglass appears just once in the book’s 500 pages. Other Black activists, authors and strategists never do. Abolitionists (White as well as Black) are hardly mentioned, and then only as radical irritants to both sides whose inconvenient existence inflamed the tensions that led to disunion. In this sense, “The Demon of Unrest” sometimes reads more like a product of the 1920s than of the 2020s.

KIRKUS:

A welcome addition to any Civil War buff’s library.

The bestselling author is back with an intriguing tale from the beginning of the Civil War.

In his latest appealing historical excavation, Larson, author of The Splendid and the Vile, Dead Wake, and other acclaimed books of popular history, examines the run-up to the Civil War during the six months between Lincoln’s November 1860 election and the surrender of Fort Sumter: a dismal period when bumblers, not excluding Lincoln, and fanatics dominated. People will fight for their freedom, but more will fight for their money, a fact that persuaded the Founding Fathers to continue the practice of slavery. Abolition became a major issue in the North early in the 19th century, enraging southerners. At the time, there was a widespread belief that Black men and women were fit for nothing better than being enslaved. All major southern religious traditions agreed, along with scholars, educators, journalists, and scientists. Most northerners agreed but hated that enslaved people worked for nothing; this depressed wages so there was opposition to slaves moving into territories and new states. Powerless before taking office, Lincoln vastly overestimated pro-Union sentiment in the South. He assured northern audiences that matters would calm down, believing (against all evidence) that secessionists were rational and that slavery in existing states was inviolate. Popular history demands a hero, so Larson concentrates on Maj. Robert Anderson, commander of the forts in Charleston harbor. Although he was a slaveowner, he did his duty, defending Fort Sumter until it became impossible and returning to the North to great acclaim. True to his style, Larson includes interesting portraits of obscure peripheral figures that enrich the narrative, including James Hammond, a wealthy but obnoxious planter and senator, and Mary Chesnut, wife of an even wealthier planter who kept an invaluable diary.

In The Demon of Unrest, Erik Larson gives the history of the months leading up to the 1861attack on Fort Sumter seen as the opening salvo in the United States Civil War. I will admit to knowing only the bare bones of the attack or the war in general so I was excited whe I received an early copy from Netgalley and the publishers. I finished it a while ago but found writing this review difficult because I have mixed feeling about it.

On the plus side, Larson’s writing is clear, factual, well- researched and -documented including contemporaneous documents and letters, while avoiding the dry writing of most academic history, thus making it more interesting and easily accessible to everyone. And I must say, it is very interesting.

However, my problem with it is, as other reviewers have said, he gives us a great deal from the perspective of White slave holders but very little from Black people, whether enslaved or free. He documents some of the injustices and horrors inflicted on enslaved people but also some of the small kindnesses given them as well as showing them aiding in preparations for the attack. But the only actual Black voice we hear is that of Frederick Douglass, responding negatively to a speech by Lincoln which seemed meant to placate the South and this was followed by a more positive response from a Lexington lawyer who saw it as a judicial attempt at reconciliation. Interestingly, if it was, the South perceived it as hostility towards them.

I suspect Larson was trying to give a balanced and unbiased view of what can still be seen as an emotionally charged issue. The January 6th insurrection occurred while he was researching this book and he wondered about parallels. In fairness to Larson, this isn’t meant be one of those dry history tomes which, by the way, can also show biases, but I kind of felt, in his effort to be objective, he seems to give too much weight to the Southern perspective.

But that’s just me and my perspective may be skewed by being a non-American. Overall, despite these criticisms, I did quite enjoy reading this book. As I said, Larson makes history interesting, even fascinating and I found this book impossible to put down.

I received a copy of this book from Netgalley and Crown Publishing in exchange for an honest review ( )