[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED] From 1957 until his death in 1974, Charles Lindbergh led a secret life crammed with three extramarital affairs and seven unacknowledged children. What that revelation may mean for him as a figure in our popular imagination is not yet clear, but it certainly undermines his standing as a heroic character of "indubitable purity." Whatever his flaws or tragedies, Lindbergh has always been depicted as open, honest, and incorruptible. In fact, he was a complex and manipulative man. He could be touching and tender in a masculine way; he could also be self-righteous and self-absorbed. And he believed deeply in his superiority. But he managed a public image and an enduring celebrity that obscured those characteristics. It is not too much to say that Lindbergh spent his life consciously creating a personal narrative, turning his life into a continuous autobiographical effort. By and large, he succeeded because his persona was grounded in a set of truthful, if not always accurate elements; it was--for him as well as the public--a credible rather than a realistic representation. (1) The recent exposure of his hidden side, however, prompts us to look again at Lindbergh as both a hero and a collaborator in his own celebrity.
