In the Founding Fathers Reconsidered, Richard Bernstein attempts to synthesize newer research on important figures in Revolutionary America while reasserting their relevance in the twenty-first century. Bernstein's work is a lucidly written and capably argued accomplishment. It is likely to satisfy the curiosity of readers looking for a brief and lively review of the Revolutionary Pantheon.

Bernstein's work is at its best when it aims to solve the "human equation" (80) behind the American Revolution. In spite of political and social forces beyond any one individual's control, the Revolution had people at its center, some with more pivotal roles than others. His core thesis, that we must "balance gratitude with recrimination" (116) when attempting to write the histories of figures like John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, serves as the springboard for an overview of a generation's worth of Founding Father historiography. It begins with a retelling of the origins of the phrase “the founding fathers” (some may regard it as Warren Harding's most singular achievement). Bernstein's work ends with an epilogue on what the election of Barack Obama says about our current relationship with the nation's founding myths.

The book successfully captures how people and their pragmatic approaches to political problems made the Revolution a success, just as much as ideologies and political economics pushed them toward their vision of republic-hood. For Bernstein, we need a little McCullough to go along with our Pocock.

His finest chapter documents the public's evolving memory of the Founding Fathers and their political accomplishments. It revisits central events in American history like the Civil War through the lens of "legacy" and in so doing reminds the reader that this is more than a subject suited for rocking chairs and fireplaces. In an age of originalism and Patriot Acts, the Founding Fathers, and the government they created, still matter. Bernstein says their words and deeds continue to have “urgency and bite” (168), and this is as it should be.

Bernstein comes closest to a full “reconsideration,” when he turns to the sometimes vain and trivial nature of Founding politics. Bernstein captures colorfully the role that vitriol and gossip played in American politics. One of the book's great strengths is its exploration of the ways in which men like Washington and Jefferson went to such extreme lengths to dress, speak, and act like the leaders Americans wanted, an effort in which John Adams plays an especially tragicomical part. Bernstein essentially paints them as poseurs—a charge that when combined with their hypocritical embrace of a society in which “all men are created equal” can be especially damning. But Bernstein's reader would have forgiven him for going even further in his examination of the flawed nature of Founder worship. As well versed in founding politics as he clearly is, he would be among the first to admit that no letter or deed came without unspoken (or even unconscious) agendas. In attempting such analyses, Francois Furstenberg's work on George Washington represents an excellent example of the kind of Founding Father scholarship that pushes us to rethink the political landscape then and now.

Bernstein misses an opportunity to retell the story of the Founding Fathers from the “bottom up,” further engaging their highly self-conscious public image and the way they must have looked to the people whose respect and ridicule they alternately commanded. He ably points out how the Founding Fathers were constantly posing for history's cameras, but he does not spend enough time looking at the picture beyond the narrow lens they set up for themselves.

And, ultimately, although he touches on the subject, Bernstein could have bent a more critical eye to a swelling of Founding Father fascination. What does it say about America that we often look to paint the past in sepia? Bernstein fleetingly explores the history of the “forgotten founders” and is highly sensitive to a more inclusive retelling of the country's origins. He could have been more aggressive in trying to understand the whys, whos, and hows of modern Founding Father scholarship. In 2010, the so-called “general reader” is ready for healthy doses of reality, something scholars like Annette Gordon Reed have provided, leaving us hungry for more.

Nevertheless, the Founding Fathers Reconsidered whets an appetite for an updated and brisk history of the nation's birth. Its readers will no doubt be rewarded with vivid anecdotes and insightful reflections on historical lionization. Bernstein is just the historian we need to remind us once again that “Revolutions are no trifles” (John Adams).