By Bob Tedder • History books may justifiably be called time machines. From a subject matter standpoint, “Moyers: Report From Philadelphia: The Constitutional Convention of 1787” certainly fits this description. Furthermore, its publication date, 1987, warrants a contemplative pause in the contemporary reader’s historical voyage to Philadelphia. Here the reader discovers that from a 2018 perspective the book’s creation and raison d’être in themselves belong to history. Both stories are of interest to the general reader of American history and, when augmented by Burton Silverman’s magnificent line drawings, the volume becomes an instance of celebratory reportage.
In 1987 the approaching bicentennial of the United States Constitution’s promulgation confronted modern media with a methodology conundrum. How does television present a 200-year-old event to a modern audience? Bill Moyers’ ingenious solution frames the first part of our historical journey. Moyers’ heavily researched material is presented as daily reports from Philadelphia. Moyers the reporter couples top-notch observational reporting with quotes from the framers as they addressed the problems of forging a new and unique government. The result was an 11-part television documentary and this accompanying book.
“Film coverage” was provided by Silverman’s full-page illustrations of the individuals Moyers quotes. This effective marriage of techniques marks the time trip to 1787 with the sought-after immediacy surrounding the Constitution’s birth. Exemplary of Moyers’ and Silverman’s successful merging of two media approaches to represent a third is their report from Philapdelhia datelined July 6, 1787. On this date, Virginia’s George Mason passionately and successfully argues for the adaptation of the great representation compromise which produced the House of Representatives and the Senate. Moyers quotes Mason and reports the delegate’s desire to be buried in Philadelphia rather than return to his much-beloved Virginia without an arrangement. Silverman’s carefully composed drawing of Mason jabbing his points home on the desk puts the flimsy, rushed efforts of the modern courtroom sketch artist to shame.
This book’s success was predicated on placing the reader in Philadelphia 200 years removed from the events depicted. I recommend you immediately pick up the book, open it at random, inspect the illustration, and then match its picture to the accompanying report. You will find the book more than succeeds in its sought-after intentions.