The Aviator's Wife (50 page)

So I went off to write the book—and ponder the question that wouldn’t let me sleep at night as I began to corral all the research into a manageable novel: “Just what
do
we all love about the
Lindberghs?”

There’s the name recognition, of course; everyone has heard of them, from either history books or their collective body of writing. But as I began to assemble the threads of the story I wanted to tell, I realized that while everyone has heard of Anne Lindbergh, the nature of that recognition varies widely. The majority of people know vaguely about Charles’s importance in the history
of aviation, but not many really understand the astonishing courage it took to do this at the time; the extraordinary significance of this feat to the world as we now know it.

And while other parts of the Lindberghs’ shared history might be individually recognizable—“Wasn’t their baby kidnapped?” “I always heard he was a Nazi.” “She was a writer, wasn’t she?”—I began to realize how very few people
were familiar with the truly operatic scale of Anne Lindbergh’s life and marriage. This became my motivation: to tell her
entire
story; to try
to understand the nature of this celebrated but mystifying marriage between entirely original individuals.

Most important, I wanted to make Anne the heroine of her own story, finally—as in memory (both her written accounts and the public’s perception),
she is far too often overshadowed by the dominant personality that is Charles Lindbergh.

And, of course, he is a dominant personality in my story; it is impossible to make him anything but! He was a fascinating man, but a deeply flawed one; in the end, not the hero Anne—and the world—fell in love with, back when he was “Lucky Lindy.”

But while this is the story of a marriage, it’s primarily
the story of a woman; a deeply intelligent, courageous, resilient woman. The things I learned about Anne Morrow Lindbergh as I read her diaries and biographies! The timid intellectual who, through marriage to the hero of the age, found she wasn’t so timid, after all. Actually, she was fearless; as the first American woman to earn a glider pilot’s license, she allowed her husband to hurtle her off
the edge of a mountain like a slingshot. Through sheer determination, she became a confident navigator, one of the first licensed radio operators; she also became her husband’s copilot, the only person the most famous aviator of all trusted to steer him around the world on record-breaking exploratory flights.

This
was the Anne whose story needed to be told, for few people today know anything
about the pioneering aviatrix Anne.

But then there was the tragic—and more familiar—Anne. The woman who, along with her husband, was more hounded by the press than anyone in modern history, with the possible exception of Princess Diana. The Anne who had to wear disguises in order to go to the theater; the woman who was unable to answer her own front door because of all the strangers wanting to
get a glimpse of her.

The Anne who, after her firstborn was kidnapped and murdered—tragically, publicly—had to suffer, until the end of her life, countless strangers claiming that they were her dead child. The Anne who had to grieve over this loss in private, because her husband forbade her to do so in public—or in his presence.

The Anne who never once saw her husband cry for his lost son.

And what about the frustratingly compliant Anne? The woman who tried to justify her husband’s isolationist (some say Nazi) leanings prior to World War II? The woman who saw what was happening to him, saw how wrong he was, but who hadn’t yet discovered she was strong enough to contradict him?

And then the ultimately resilient Anne; the woman who had to build an entire life for herself and her children
when Charles all but abandoned them in his increasing unrest after the war. The woman who learned to talk back, to say no, to tell her own story, famously, in the beloved
Gift from the Sea
. The woman who had a surprising adulterous affair in middle age.

The Anne who, despite her public image as the model of a docile wife, refused to be buried next to her husband of forty-five years. And the husband
who, despite his public image as the hero of his age, had three secret families—including seven additional children.

But did
Anne
know? Ah, that’s the question! She never spoke or wrote of this Charles Lindbergh. The Charles in her diaries is the Charles she wanted us to remember; the idol, the pure, heroic boy. I discovered that the diaries published in her lifetime were heavily edited by both
Anne and Charles near the end of his life; even then, Charles was trying to shape
his
image using
her
words.

But I think she did know. And that in discovering this ultimate betrayal, she finally understood her marriage and her husband.
She also recognized that she had been the strong one, all along. For the kidnapping truly broke Charles Lindbergh beyond repair; it can be seen as the explanation
for all that he did after—the long absences, the tyrannical behavior toward his children and wife, the obsessive building and abandoning of homes, the restless search for causes. And finally, the secret families.

Whereas Anne—that shy ambassador’s daughter—was the one strong enough to hold her family together. She was the one who survived this epic journey intact, able to love and, ultimately,
to forgive.

So. That question:
Why do we all love the Lindberghs?

Because of
Anne
, I realized when I finished writing
The Aviator’s Wife
. Anne—tender, courageous, resilient Anne—is the reason we all “love the Lindberghs.”

NOW, FOR THE INEVITABLE
truth versus fiction discussion! One thing I have learned after writing three historical novels is that there will always be readers who want to know
what parts I imagined, and what parts actually happened. My answer, always, is: It’s the emotional truths that I imagine; the relationships, the reasons these historical figures do the things they do. I truly believe that the inner life can be explored only in novels, not histories—or even diaries and letters. For diaries and letters are self-censored even at the moment of writing them; it’s impossible
to be absolutely honest with oneself.

For those who do care about the historical record, however, I will share the following:

The first flight that Anne and Charles take together in my book, unknown to anyone but themselves, is fictional. That is, there is no record of this flight; the first recorded instance of Anne
flying with Charles is the second flight mentioned, the one she takes with
her mother and sisters in front of the press.

The flight in which the plane turns upside down, losing a wheel on takeoff, is a compilation of many of the early flights before their marriage; they did actually lose a wheel on takeoff during a flight in Mexico after their engagement was announced, so I incorporated that into this fictional flight.

The basic details of their other historical flights,
mentioned in this book, are taken from actual accounts.

The timeline of the kidnapping sequence is as historically accurate as I could make it, while I acknowledge there are many details that I left out. Again, this is a novel, not a blow-by-blow account; I was more interested in the emotion, the personal drama, than I was in giving a history lesson.

The basic timeline for the rest of the book
is, again, historically accurate. The historical figures we meet are people Anne and Charles did know; major events that occur, such as the rally in Madison Square Garden, Charles’s record during the war, the visitation with the Apollo astronauts, actually happened.

Some may wonder why I didn’t mention every book Anne wrote, or every flight they took, or every move they made. Each life is made
up of a thousand stories; it’s the novelist’s job to pick and choose which ones will make a compelling novel. This means that some stories will inevitably be left out or not as explored as thoroughly as some might wish.

And finally, I leave you with this: As a historical novelist, the most gratifying thing I hear is that the reader was inspired, after reading my work of fiction, to research these
remarkable people’s lives further. That is what historical fiction does best, I think; it leaves the reader with a desire to know more. I hope my novel accomplishes this, and I highly recommend the following books
that I found very useful: Anne Morrow Lindbergh and Charles Lindbergh’s collected published diaries and books, including
Gift from the Sea
and
The Spirit of St. Louis;
A. Scott Berg’s
monumental biography,
Lindbergh;
Susan Hertog’s biography,
Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Her Life;
and Reeve Lindbergh’s memoir,
Under a Wing
.

To Alec

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHARLES HAD ANNE FOR HIS CREW
; I have many wonderful people who support and navigate me through my journey, as well. First and always I must thank my wonderful editor, Kate Miciak, who pushes me to do my best with every book. And I have nothing but gratitude and friendship for my literary agent, Laura Langlie.

To the smart and hardworking professionals at Random House, I say,
once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart: Libby McGuire, Jane von Mehren, Susan Corcoran, Kim Hovey, Gina Wachtel, Robbin Schiff, Sharon Propson, Kristin Fassler, Leigh Marchant, Benjamin Dreyer, Loren Noveck, Randall Klein, and Loyale Coles. Thanks also to Bill Contardi for all his work on my behalf.

There are so many other book-loving people who never fail to surprise me with their
support and friendship, among them Bridget Piekarz, Nicole Hayes, Margie White, Sue Kowalski and Jane Stroh from The Bookstore in Glen Ellyn, and Becky Anderson from Anderson’s Book Shop. Thank you all.

And what kind of modern author would I be if I failed to give a shout-out to all my new friends on Twitter and Facebook? Thank you all for making life interesting!

Finally to my family, especially
Dennis, Alec, and Ben: thank you, as always, for putting up with me.

BY

Melanie Benjamin

A
LICE
I H
AVE
B
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T
HE
A
UTOBIOGRAPHY OF
M
RS
. T
OM
T
HUMB

T
HE
A
VIATOR
’
S
W
IFE

THE AVIATOR’S WIFE
READING GROUP GUIDE

1. The epigraph for this novel is from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry who, like Anne Morrow Lindbergh, was both a celebrated author and noted aviator. Do you agree with his statement that “One must look with the heart?” What do you think that means? And do you think it means something different to an artist (author) as opposed to a scientist (aviator)?

2. One
of the recurring themes is how Anne will choose to remember Charles. How do you think she concludes to remember him by the end? How does it change?

3. Anne’s father says, “And there’s Anne. Reliable Anne. You never change, my daughter.” (
this page
). How does Anne change over the course of this novel? Or does she?

4. Compare the celebrity of the Lindbergh’s to the celebrity couples of today.
What current celebrities do Charles and Anne remind you of most?

5. How does Anne’s nomadic lifestyle as the daughter of an ambassador later influence her concept of “home” with Charles? What do you think defines home?

6. Anne seems to think of herself as an outsider—someone too shy and insular to make a big impression on someone else. Do you think Charles saw through that? Or, do you think
that was something about Anne that appealed to him? Is Charles an insular character himself, whether by personality or forced into a “celebrity bubble?” Or, do you think Anne simply misevaluates herself?

7. Have you ever met someone famous? Did they live up to your impression of them?

8. “Had there ever been a hero like him, in all of history?” (
this page
) Anne starts her description of Charles
with hero worship, comparing him to Columbus and Marco Polo. How does her opinion evolve as she comes to know him better? How did your opinion of Charles Lindbergh evolve through Anne’s story?

9. The title of this book is, of course,
The Aviator’s Wife
. Do you think that’s how Anne views herself upon marrying Charles? Do you think she sees that as a role she’s playing, or as a defining characteristic
of who she is? Does it change over the course of the book?

10. Have you ever been up in a biplane? Do you think you would ever go, even with an expert aviator at the controls?

11. Compare the relationships Anne has to the men in her life: her brother, Dwight, her father, and Charles.

12. What rights to privacy do you think a public figure should have? Does it go against being a public figure
to get to decide what parts of his or her life stay private?

13. Do you think Charles and Anne were in love? Why or why not? Did that change over time?

14. Do you think you could keep the secrets that Anne keeps from her children? Why or why not?

15. What do you think flying represents to Anne? How does it compare to her with writing? Which do you think is more important to Anne?

16. Do you
think Charles Lindbergh was a good husband in any ways? What do you think makes for a good partner?

17. Is Anne a hero? Why or why not?

18. If you could ask Anne a question, what would it be?

19. How does Anne’s relationship with her family change after she marries Charles?

20. How would you react to the scrutiny by the press that Anne and Charles endured? Would you want to be famous if it
meant being constantly under the microscope? Would you answer differently if there weren’t social media outlets but the same type of newspapers and newsreels from Anne and Charles’s lifetime?