"We're having an earthquake," said my wife. It was early one recent morning, as we sat drinking coffee and reading the day's gloomy economic news. Was she being metaphorical? At this hour? We sat in nervous silence for a few seconds, mentally listing our regrets. (Her: Why didn't we put flashlights in all the bedrooms? Me: Why didn't we sell all these bedrooms and rent?) Then we resumed our day.
"The American Earthquake" is what the critic Edmund Wilson called his collection of reportage (mostly for the New Republic) about the Great Depression, and as a metaphor it's a good one. It captures, as "Depression" does not, the element of surprise, the panic, the remorse and the disbelief as it seems more and more likely that this actually is "the big one."
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