The reader will have gathered by now that this book looks at some of the more illustrious American revolutionaries: Washington, John Adams, Hamilton, Madison, Jefferson, Burr and to a lesser extent, Franklin. One of the other reviewers calls it 'academic in tone', hardly a good description for what feels more like a professor knocking off a rather chatty essay in old-fashioned mainstream historical writing. Ellis has decidedly not come to bury the founders, although he appears to share the general low opinion of Aaron Burr, and he's interesting about Jefferson's remarkable capacity for self-deception.
As someone who knew very little about these figures, I was very surprised to learn about the depth and duration of some of the antagonisms between them. Everyday political discourse tends to conceal them behind a nimbus of reverence, and the rather stiff group portraits don't help. As a foreigner and an amateur student of US history, it was fascinating to read about the Adams-Jefferson split and subsequent reconciliation, or the power wielded by Abigail Adams during her husband's presidency, or the way that pretty much everyone seems to have hated Alexander Hamilton. The tenuous and uncertain nature of the first presidency, the way that most precedents had not yet been set, also comes across very clearly.
Having said that, I suppose I wanted this to be something that it's not - a comprehensive account of who all these men were, where they came from and how they came to believe what they believed. This reads more like a book written for people who already know the basic story. Ellis is a bit sniffy in his foreword with some of the more radical interpretations of early US history, and presents his book as a kind of return to the mainstream; given that the American intellectual mainstream is currently well to the right, I was expecting him to be more hero-worshipping than he actually is. In fact he's fairly level-headed about the failure of the men of '76 to tackle the problem of slavery, and while he shows the reasons why they couldn't build anti-slavery resolutions into the Constitution (because the crucial southern states wouldn't have gone for it), he's sharp about the way even the more enlightened amongst them were uncomfortable even thinking about the idea. (Except Benjamin Franklin, who came out as a tough-minded abolitionist only weeks before his death - cheers, Ben, bit late though.)
I'm not totally convinced that it's really Pulitzer material; aren't they meant to go to bigger, more magisterial works, not book-length essays? There's no original research here and not much in the way of fascinating reinterpretation, more like a confident and elegant restatement of conventional opinion. But maybe that in itself was a good idea.