A Peek Behind the Curtain

Here are today’s Wonderful Words:

Abraham Lincoln struck off the chains of black Americans, but it was Lyndon Johnson who led them into voting booths, closed democracy’s sacred curtain behind them, placed their hands upon the lever that gave them a hold on their own destiny, made them, at last and forever, a true part of American political life.

Means of Ascent, Robert Caro, page xxi

Background

This sentence comes from the introduction of Robert Caro’s second book on Lyndon Johnson. The book is number two in a four part series, and its introduction is one of the best pieces of writing I’ve ever read. This sentence crowns the section describing Johnson’s Voting Rights Act of 1965.

What makes it wonderful?

The description of the voting booth took me back in time to fourth grade student council elections. It was my first taste of democracy, and the part that looms large in my memory is the excitement of entering the booth to cast my ballot.

The teachers could’ve made us drop paper ballots into a tissue box, but they were better than that. Adults walked into the booth for real elections, and the teachers wanted us to walk into the booth for ours.

I remember the feeling of the heavy velvet curtain closing behind me as I pulled the handle. I remember the feeling of standing alone in the booth with all the options before me. I remember the feeling of my fingers flicking the levers as I checked and double checked my choices. And I remember the feeling of the machine clunking my votes into history as I pulled back the curtain and returned to class.

The voting booth carried with it gravity, responsibility, and ownership. I felt that as a ten year old. It’s a feeling I distinctly remember 21 years later. Caro was conveying the gravity of Johnson’s actions, and he knew to convey it properly, he had to tap into the reader’s emotions.

Let's get technical

Caro uses a few techniques in this single sentence, but I want to talk about symbolism.

Symbolism is the idea that one thing represents another thing. In this particular case, the voting booth represents participation in the democratic process.

Caro wrote that Johnson led black Americans into the voting booths. Of course, Johnson did no such thing. Not literally anyway. He didn’t grab anyone by the hand and guide them into the big blue booth I remember from my childhood.

But he introduced the legislation that changed the lives of black Americans. He championed their right to participate in American democracy. And I can’t think of a better symbol for his actions than our sacred voting booth.

By using a symbol, Caro made the reader feel the magnitude of the event. Without the symbol that all Americans know so well—without the memory of our first time participating in the process—we might not appreciate exactly what Johnson did. Symbolism elevates your writing by transforming facts to feelings. And while readers might acknowledge a fact, they’ll always embrace a feeling.

Happy writing,

Joe