Although he practiced law in the Bay Area for most of his career, Mack Borgen always had a passion for writing political and social commentary. After graduating from Harvard Law School in 1972, he even moved to Spain and attempted to write a book that would, “explain the ’60s.” That book never materialized—which Borgen blames on the low cost of Spanish wine—but much later, in 2008, he felt the need to try and share his cultural insights again. “I was and continue to be greatly saddened by the direction of our national conversation,” Borgen says. “And I thought maybe I could help with that.”
Borgen now lives in Santa Barbara and has published several books. He spent the last four years contributing to the national discourse with his series Dead Serious and Lighthearted: The Memorable Words of Modern America (The Chance of a Lifetime series). Across the series’ three volumes, Borgen strives to collect and present glimpses into the cultural and political realities of America, working year by year, from 1957 to 1976. Kirkus Reviews calls the effort “Herculean” and says the books achieve “a depth that goes far beyond simple nostalgia.”
Each installment offers what Borgen calls “memorable words”—snippets of writings, speeches, movies, songs, or anything else that he found to have had an impact during the particular year or afterward. In Volume 2, for example, Borgen discusses Donald Trump’s infamous call for the death penalty during the 1989 Central Park Jogger Case and how, years later, he would double down on that call despite the overturned convictions in 2002. These “memorable words” are presented in a straightforward manner, providing only proper citation, context, and analysis that strives to be as neutral and concise as possible. “The expectation of brevity has never been higher,” Borgen says of the current media landscape, and for him, the best way to present the history of modern America had to meet that expectation.
At the beginning of each volume, Borgen writes extensively about his process and reasoning behind his approach to documenting American history. These are the moments where he really lets his personal views and analysis shine through. In particular, he writes at length about the problems of accuracy and literary license in more traditional historical texts:
[The] issues of literary license and incompleteness are slightly different than issues of accuracy, but they too cloud the accurate presentation of history. In this sense, literary license and incompleteness must themselves be seen as mere variant forms of inaccuracy.
And for all of these reasons, it can appear that little is to be believed, that nothing is as it appears, and that there is always more to the story. But these books believe otherwise.
These books suggest that even amidst the cacophony of American life, history remains. Truth still exists.
Borgen has great respect for historians like Stephen E. Ambrose and David McCullough. However, for him, too many of today’s youth are accustomed to reading in short sprints, and too many adults have gleaned their knowledge from Ken Burns movies or Ron Howard’s Apollo 13 to expect that those large, dense texts will always reach their audience. And Borgen doesn’t foresee that changing anytime soon. “We are faced with a choice,” he says. “We either change the way we teach history…or we really don’t learn it at all and…relegate it to being viewed as a hobby.”
This fractured attitude toward history also comes from what Borgen calls “multigenerational ignorance.” The term refers to the unique fact that four different generations with very different perspectives are currently coexisting in America. He points to the discussions around current presidential nominees as an example, citing how they are often described as either too old or too young. He believes it’s more important to remember “that people are coming from different places, so we have to be careful in our conversations.”
To that end, Borgen had strict criteria for what would be included as memorable words. “One small step for mankind,” for example, or “If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit” were among the more obvious choices, but Borgen wanted to go deeper than that. “With all due respect, books on famous quotes and clever sayings are fine, but that’s not what I’m writing,” he explains. He instead sought out statements that could “trigger” different subjects or frames of mind.
“I tried hard to give a fair balance,” Borgen says of his attempt to present conservative and liberal viewpoints as well as those completely outside of politics. In Borgen’s history book, Samuel L. Jackson’s famous lines from Pulp Fiction receive the same attention as Bill Clinton saying, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman.” He hopes that this approach will bring some levity to studying history and lessen the acrimony in conversations, political or otherwise. “One way to do that is to try and give America a break,” Borgen says of his book’s attempt to remind people of pop-culture events they loved while also showing that the country has always faced severe challenges.
Growing up in Montana, Borgen saw many “end-of-the-road people” (those who arrived in the state to get away from everything and withdraw from society). It’s a tendency he now observes in the country’s biggest metropolises as well. Wealthy individuals continue to disengage because their money shields them from concerns about health care or public education. And no matter how much money you have, it has become easier to know your computer better than your neighbor. “One of the things that I would like to bring forward in these books is that we have a national community,” he says. “And you can’t withdraw from it.”
Borgen does not believe that the problems in American discourse will have a single solution, but he does think that history, and finding new ways to impart its lessons, can help. “History is really a very quiet medicine,” Borgen says. “It can calm us down and…lift our spirits and give us encouragement. But you have to have it. You can’t just keep waiting for the movie or ignoring it.”
Rhett Morgan is a writer and translator based in Paris.