Synopses & Reviews
“On the morning of March 6, 1970, in the subbasement of 18 W. 11th Street in Greenwich Village, a piece of ordinary water pipe, filled with dynamite, nails, and an electric blasting cap, ignited by mistake…”
So begins this stunning memoir of a white middle-class girl from Connecticut who became a member of the Weather Underground, one of the most notorious groups of the 1960s. Cathy Wilkerson, who famously blew up and escaped from a Greenwich Village townhouse, here wrestles with the legacy of the movement, at times looking at contradictions of the movement that many others have avoided: the absence of women’s voices then and in the retelling; the incompetence and the egos; the hundreds of bombs detonated in protest which caused little loss of life but which were also ineffective in fomenting revolution. While proud of many of the accomplishments of the 1960s, years later Wilkerson examines why, in 1970, she in effect accepted the same disregard for human life practiced by the government. In searching for new paradigms for change, Wilkerson asserts with brave humanity and confessional honesty an assessment of her past—of those heady, iconic times—and finds hope and faith in a world that at times seems to offer neither.
Cathy Wilkerson was active in the civil rights movement, Students for a Democratic Society, and the Weather Underground. In 1970, she, along with Kathy Boudin, survived an explosion in the basement of her parents’ townhouse that killed three Weathermen, forcing the two underground. For the past twenty years she has worked as an educator teaching teachers in the New York City schools.
Review
"Wilkerson's writing conveys the urgency of the time as well as the 1960s slogan that all politics is personal. Most interesting is the account of the budding women's liberation movement and the resistance that 'radical' men showed to it." Library Journal
Review
"Sharing her story of how a privileged young woman evolved into a central figure in one of the most iconic events of those turbulent years, Wilkerson's boldly candid, exceptionally detailed, and philosophically introspective memoir examines the lasting effects the movements successes and failures had on her personally and on society as a whole." Booklist
Review
"[A] gracefully written and scrupulously researched memoir." Los Angeles Times
Synopsis
Flying Close to the Sun is the memoir of a white middle-class girl from the suburbs who became what today many would call a terrorist a bomb-making member of the Weather Underground who then came to learn the lessons of the 1960s that other radicals of all stripes seem not to have learned.
Cathy Wilkerson, who famously blew up and escaped from her parents' Greenwich Village townhouse, here wrestles with the contradictions of the movement that still have not been publicly aired before now: the absence of women's voices; the incompetence and the egos; the hundreds of bombs detonated in protest, which caused little loss of life but were also ineffective in fomenting revolution.
Years later she realizes that in making decisions from a place of rage and hopelessness, the Weather Underground in effect accepted the same disregard for human life practiced by Richard Nixon, Henry Kissinger, and William Westmoreland. They had abandoned themselves to the sanctimony of hating their enemies. In searching for new paradigms for change, Wilkerson asserts with brave humanity and confessional honesty an assessment of her past of those heady, iconic times and finds hope and faith in a world that at times seemed to offer neither.
Synopsis
The gentle truth of what went wrong in the sixties.
Synopsis
Flying Close to the Sun is the stunning memoir of a white middle-class girl from Connecticut who became a member of the Weather Underground, one of the most notorious groups of the 1960s. Cathy Wilkerson, who famously escaped the Greenwich Village townhouse explosion, here wrestles with the
legacy of the movement, at times finding contradictions that many others have avoided: the absence of womens voices then, and in the retelling; the incompetence and the egos; the hundreds of bombs detonated in protest which caused little loss of life but which were also ineffective in fomenting revolution. In searching for new paradigms for change, Wilkerson asserts with brave humanity and confessional honesty an assessment of her past—of those heady, iconic times—and somehow finds hope and faith in a world that at times seems to offer neither.
About the Author
CATHY WILKERSON was active in the civil rights movement, Students for a Democratic Society, and the Weathermen. In 1970, she was one of two women to survive an explosion in the basement of her familys townhouse that killed three Weathermen, forcing the group underground. For the past twenty years she has worked as a mathematics educator in New York City schools.