This book will be of very little interest to readers of this journal. The material covering the Guggenheims’ activities in Latin America has already been covered more completely in works by Harvey O’Connor, Isaac Marcosson, Gattenby Williams (pseud. William Guggenheim) and Marvin Bernstein. As for Harry F. Guggenheim’s tenure as ambassador to Cuba in the late 1920s, nothing of value to a professional historian is included, except a reference to an M. A. thesis at Princeton that covered that topic.
Mr. Davis has given us a compilation of some professional research, some gossip, and the results of many interviews. The result is a fascinating book, for those who are interested in that sort of thing, and I enjoyed reading it. At times, though, the rhetoric breaks down: “It was, in the end, a case of the right man meeting the right man at the right time. What Diaz wanted, Guggenheim, and only Guggenheim, was prepared to provide. What Guggenheim wanted, Diaz and only Diaz, was empowered to give” (p. 68). There are a number of quotable quotes such as Solomon Guggenheim telling his nephews: “Never make love to a woman before breakfast, you might have a better offer before lunch” (p. 204). Or the remark of a fifth-generation daughter: “O. K., we’re one-quarter Jewish, but we’re proud of it, because that’s where all the money comes from” (p. 479). One is bound to admire Uncle Sol’s machismo if not his potency, and the honesty of the daughter if not her tolerance. This is an enjoyable book about a most unusual family.
