One of my only complaints came upon learning fairly early in my reading (arising from a casual Google search after I couldn't find Jane Jacobs in the index) that Caro wrote a chapter on Jane Jacobs and ultimately cut it due to the length of the book. Allegedly had the book been any longer, the binding would not have accommodated any additional pages and it would have required two volumes. The Jane Jacobs chapter (for the uninitiated) would obviously not follow the prevailing narrative of the Moses modus operandi (his M.O. being 'driving stakes'—starting a project that had not been funded or approved in a semi-permanent way, then when funding or approval was nigh, citing the loss of taxpayer dollars if it were then denied as a reason to approve the rest of the venture), as she succeeded in her neighborhood organizing efforts, and as a result we still have Washington Square Park and the West Village in modern NYC. I've made peace with the omission, as I realize Jane has plenty of air time elsewhere—I obviously love her classic The Death and Life of Great American Cities and also highly recommend the documentary "Citizen Jane," among other things. In that spirit, I really appreciated Caro's extensive focus on Lillian Edelstein of East Tremont in the Bronx and her organizing efforts opposing the Cross Bronx Expressway—ultimately and tragically no match for Moses' abuse of power, but a powerful figure of civic organizing who stood up to Moses and deserves our attention in the context of his biography.

My other primary complaint is the lack of treatment of Staten Island projects and topics within the book. I may be biased as I spent the entire last semester studying Staten Island in my landscape architecture studio, but I think there is a lot of fascinating history that Caro omitted from this book, notably the development and use of Fresh Kills landfill and the network of Staten Island expressways and parkways (some constructed and some ultimately not—again, the non-development of a Moses project being somewhat of a departure from Moses' usual track record; in some cases these failed projects occurred even in spite of his use of the 'driving stakes' methods). As I spent a lot of time studying this specific history of public works, public space, and the built environment of Staten Island, I'm interested in comparing the timelines of those events with the later chapters of The Power Broker to see how Moses' ultimate fall from power may have contributed to the petering out of these projects, as I suspect the way these timelines align may ultimately be the reason for Caro's omissions. I am also planning to read a separate account of Fresh Kills, written by Martin Melosi, which examines consumption and waste more broadly in NYC and in the context of Fresh Kills landfill on Staten Island (which was initially a Robert Moses venture, but remained in use until 2001, long after Moses' time).

Caro is also a very evocative writer—he excels at painting portraits of the different people who figure into the Moses entourage, the people who most influenced Moses early in his public life, and the series of NYC mayors and governors Moses worked under/over/with (the preposition most applicable very much depending on the mayor or governor in question). I found some of his descriptions to be very earnest or dramatic at times, but overall this served him well in telling this epic New York tale.

One thing I continually found fascinating and distinctive about Caro's writing was a particular subjunctive sentence construction that Caro employed over and over again. As a student and speaker of Italian, I love the subjunctive tense (il congiuntivo!) and always lament that we don't use it more in the English language. Well I got my wish with Caro and I was puzzled about it for a while as it made for some very odd, and at times convoluted, sentences. Somewhere along the line, I realized it was probably a way to avoid a libel suit, as well as a way to explore motive when much of the time it may not be confirmable fact. But its prevalence made an impression and I'm curious whether Caro's other works employ that construction nearly as often, or if Moses is an exception (which would not surprise me).

I'm interested in undertaking a reread at some point (like, maybe a decade from now) with an eye toward the chronology of the book. Caro spent 7 years researching and obviously a work of this immensity is a feat. As part of the biography genre, the work is loosely chronological, but throughout the last half of the book I found myself getting turned around as Caro would jump chronology to stick to the theme or topic at hand. Again, for a work of this immensity, this makes complete sense and I think by doing so, Caro made a coherent narrative from what might otherwise read as a lot of dates, numbers, facts, and figures. This book is so weighted with numbers and data that having a strong narrative arc is essential to its legibility and coherence. Caro does a masterful job with this and the narrative imposed is convincing and feels true to the events and timeline of Moses' career.

In some ways, The Power Broker reads as a biography of New York City in the 20th Century, as much as it reads as a biography of Moses. New York City, for better or for worse (truly, both of these), would not be what it is today without the impact of Moses on its built environment and neighborhoods. It's easy to paint Moses with broad strokes as a villain in the city's history, but I think Caro does an excellent job articulating the evolution of Moses' ethics in public life and over the course of his career. He truly began as a reformer and did a lot to eject the ineffectual Tammany politics out of NYC governance, particularly in regards to the governance of public space in NYC. But Moses was not above corruption, and his hunger for power and recognition led him to essentially the same avenues of dubious ethics, in his case the ethically questionable contracts that were this 20th Century 'reformer's (technically-legal-but-in-spirit-no-better-than-Tammany-Hall) answer to Getting Things Done.

I appreciated that Caro took a nuanced approach in exploring this controversial figure; I am by no means a Moses fan, but I appreciated that Caro's lengthy biography necessarily grapples with the nuance of Moses' past. Caro clearly illustrates Moses' journey from idealist and honest reformer in his 20s to the pinnacle of his career when he had amassed considerable power and insularity and was basically untouchable. Caro does not shy away from the very obvious negatives of Moses' impact, including Moses' racism and how he reinforced this bigotry in the built environment, as well as his distaste for the poor, as shown again and again in his policies and projects. In some of the later chapters in particular, Caro paints a grim picture about how far back Moses set NYC and Long Island by denying obvious (planning- and finance-wise) expansion opportunities for mass transit.

I've said this before, but one of my favorite things about the 2021 adaptation of "West Side Story" was its inclusion of the urban renewal subplot of the development of Lincoln Center (yet another Moses brainchild); this actual event was in the works as of the mid-1950s but I don't think the full effect of its construction and development was fully felt at the time of the original musical and 1961 film's creation. I think it is a clever (and realistic) backdrop to a story that includes significant themes of social and racial upheaval in NYC.

I mention this movie connection because I think The Power Broker is a classic of non-fiction and biographic literature largely because of the staying power of its themes—most notably of power and how it is amassed and used to various ends in politics and government, and its impacts on people in cities. In the 21st Century we theoretically understand the devastating effects of urban renewal projects and the importance of garnering constituent support for various capital improvement endeavors AND YET even in Philadelphia over the last year, residents battled elected officials bent on shoehorning an unpopular and costly arena project into the heart of Chinatown (just this week the arena developers announced their plans to instead stay in South Philadelphia's stadium district, to the immense relief of residents and activists across the city and the chagrin of the politicians who had been trying to make a buck). Robert Moses' impact in creating and shaping bad public process for the better part of the 20th Century in NYC has lessons all of us need as we engage with our city and state governments.

In summary, it was an excellent book and I'm glad I read it. I think if you are interested in the topics I mentioned, you might find it worth reading, or perhaps you might enjoy a more abbreviated experience in the form of the 99% Invisible podcast to get the highlights. And if you made it this far, thanks for reading!!

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p.s. In November I visited the New York-Historical Society and got to see TWO exhibits related to The Power Broker—one set of cases was dedicated to an exhibit for the 50th anniversary of its publishing (on view through early August 2025), and another (standing) exhibit covered Robert Caro's writing process. My friend Julie (of co-Power-Broker-book-club-of-two-reading-fame) recommended to me the documentary "Turn Every Page" about Robert Caro and his editor, Robert Gottlieb, which I am also planning to watch at some point. These were all great things to accompany the reading experience!