Memories of past presidents are often evoked to inspire, reassure, and console. In unstable times, such commemoration aims to provide a symbolic sense of historical continuity and accomplishment and an interpretative anchor in shifting currents political, economic, and sociocultural developments. Not every presidential memory is equally suited to this task; of the forty-five officeholders to date, some were deemed substandard, many mediocre, and very few so truly impressive that their insights and legacies still reverberate with current audiences.

The life and presidency of Theodore Roosevelt are widely regarded by many to be of timeless significance to the American polity. Almost a century after his death in 1919, the public and presidential scholars alike consistently place him in the top tier of influential presidents, most recently on fourth place in February of 2018. In Theodore Roosevelt's Ghost, Michael Patrick Cullinane, who teaches U.S. history at Roehampton University in London, extensively explores this persistent fascination with Theodore Roosevelt. In eight chronological chapters the author analyzes the organizational foundations, spatial configurations, political appropriations, and academic interpretations of Roosevelt's legacy over the longue durée. The study successfully elucidates the intersections and interconnections between shifting historical contexts, individual agendas, and the foregrounding of specific themes and spatial formats in Roosevelt's legacy commemoration. This first book-length treatment of the topic makes excellent use of a wide range of source materials; includes analytically valuable illustrations in support of key arguments; and constitutes a particularly welcome addition to the extensive, vibrant, and dynamic Roosevelt historiography.

According to Cullinane, patriotism, progressivism, conservationism, as well as Roosevelt's intellectual pursuits and Western experience all constituted the surprisingly stable thematic archive for narratives of Roosevelt's enduring legacy throughout the century. Two memorial associations, curiously divided along gender lines, provided the organizational foundations for a myriad of commemorative initiatives. While the Women's Roosevelt Memorial Association (WRMA) focused on the reconstruction of Roosevelt's birthplace in Manhattan as a center for patriotic education, their male counterparts (RMA) pursued ideas for a national Roosevelt memorial. Both competed for public attention and funding but also cooperated and ultimately merged in 1955 into the Theodore Roosevelt Association.

Many of the activities circled around the creation of new or conservation of existing memorial spaces to Roosevelt across the country. Those activities encompassed the reconstruction of Roosevelt's birthplace in New York; the unsuccessful pursuit of a memorial on the National Mall; the renovation of the Oyster Bay family home at Sagamore Hill, the development of Analostan Island in the Potomac into a conservationist memorial, the restoration of Bulloch Hall, home of Roosevelt's mother in Roswell, Georgia, and the conservation of Roosevelt's cabin at Pine Knot in Virginia.

As Cullinane's analysis makes clear, the successful development of such commemorative spaces required intense lobbying efforts, extensive funding, a non-controversial legacy vision, and receptive political and social conditions. Initially, the WRMA birthplace project was, for example, neither popular with the Roosevelt family nor with the RMA. The project, critics argued, would not have been endorsed by Roosevelt; in addition, the WRMA's vision for this space as a center for patriotic education also raised objections as too political and potentially divisive. Cullinane explores how the supporters were able to capitalize on strong nationalist fervent and increased female political activism and subtly untangles the web of interests and discursive strategies at work in the development of this commemorative space

But the line between success and failure in creating memorial spaces was thin as the frustrated efforts for a national memorial indicated. The RMA, which included many of Roosevelt's former associates, hoped to ensure his elevation into the pantheon of the nation's most inspiring leaders by securing a spot for a grand memorial on the National Mall in Washington, DC. Despite intense congressional lobbying and a highly publicized design competition, those efforts proved elusive and the project was folded in 1926. According to Cullinane, the bitter disputes between Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson, and Wilson's death in 1924, pitted supporters of both camps against each other and mobilized substantial opposition against the RMA's plans. The struggle over the space on the Tidal Basin later allocated to the Jefferson Memorial turned into a bitter partisan controversy over the merits of Roosevelt's presidency and the timeliness of the project.

Curiously, one of the most influential memorial spaces, however, was ultimately constructed 1,700 miles west of Washington in the Black Hills of South Dakota. This private endeavor, driven by sculptor Gutzon Borglum and South Dakota's senior senator Peter Norbeck, enjoyed political backing. Between 1927 and 1941, Gutzon and thousands of workers carved the faces of four empire builders out of Mt. Rushmore, a space of spiritual and historical significance to the Lakota Sioux. While Norbeck hoped the memorial would accelerate the rise of the state's tourism industry, Borglum envisioned the project as a national shrine to “manifest destiny.” Despite objections to the project by Lakota Sioux and conservationists, Mount Rushmore elevated Roosevelt to national historical stature and anchored him in one of the most visually recognizable memorial spaces in the United States alongside George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, and Abraham Lincoln.

The partisan controversy that shaped much of the debate over a national memorial also affected the discursive political appropriations of Roosevelt's legacy during the interwar decades. Cullinane convincingly documents the intense politicization of this legacy through the steady affirmation of real or imaginary linkages by his Republican successors. Beyond such opportunistic mantra, Franklin D. Roosevelt's reclamation of his fifth cousin's legacy was based on deep admiration. While it fueled a long family feud between the two Roosevelt branches over the rightful heir to Theodore, Franklin Delano idolized and co-opted Theodore's political philosophy to advance his own agenda in transforming the “Square Deal” into the “New Deal.”

According to Cullinane, such political appropriations also influenced discursive political legitimacy during the Cold War and beyond. In times of uncertainty and crisis, Roosevelt's legacy provided a reassuring anchor and advanced an interpretative arc that spanned across the entire “American century.” A wide range of politicians from Richard Nixon to Ronald Reagan, from John McCain to Bill Clinton, and from George H. W. Bush to Barack Obama frequently evoked rhetorical and symbolical connections between their own and Roosevelt's political agendas.

Such a bipartisan political embrace was accompanied by the widespread cultural appropriation of Roosevelt in movies, theater plays, and historical fiction. The search for a national memorial ultimately succeeded and transformed a Potomac island into the spatial recognition of the former president's enduring conservationist legacy. Finally, a reinvigorated historiography transcended an often-simplistic reductionism as large-scale edition projects, academic conferences, and the establishment of transnational research networks all contributed to a renaissance in Theodore Roosevelt historiography.

Theodore Roosevelt's Ghost explores an impressive range of creative appropriations and determined efforts to anchor Roosevelt in collective memories. Such a process required a continuous effort to iron out inconsistencies by streamlining Roosevelt's divisive sides into a broadly appealing format. Not all ghosts are benign, and some can be quiet haunting as Roosevelt's bellicose militarism; imperialism; and racialized understandings of civilization, history, and global affairs could easily have derailed this concerted effort at inclusion into the pantheon of the American polity.

While Cullinane touches on some of those interpretative realignments and their respective limits, such as the failed attempts to engage with the civil rights movement, he also leaves room for further research into crucial transformative moments of memory formation. He emphasizes that a polygonal Theodore Roosevelt provided a sufficiently flexible surface for a wide range of interest projections whose lone commonality was their remarkable longevity. Considering the ferocity with which Woodrow Wilson's legacy is currently being debated, it is merely a matter of time before such a contest for interpretative hegemony reexamines the divisive and contradictory dimensions of Theodore Roosvelt's life and presidency. Michael Patrick Cullinane's book will be a solid guide to contextualize this next chapter in the long history of an American icon.