#FridayReads, April 6, “Prague Fatale,” the eighth Bernie Gunther novel in Philip Kerr’s matchless Berlin Noir series. And in nonfiction, Deadly Spin, former health insurance insider Wendell Potter’s lucid dissection of how insurers rig the healthcare game.
Hiding in plain sight is confirmation in a 1995 story from Britain’s Independent newspaper that after WW II and continuing on throughout the ’50s the CIA promoted Abstract Expressionism, ostensibly to show America’s openness to cultural variety, as compared with the rigid Constructivism in Soviet arts. I had somehow missed the story by reporter Frances Stonor Saunders, which, thanks to fellow Tweeps @nwoah and @roc_cayard, resurfaced this evening on Twitter. Among many fascinating revelations it reports that
Eisenhower-era support of boundary-busting art seems ironic now, but the article also points out the truth that the CIA, notwithstanding its Cold Warrior status, it
In this regard, I recall that the first publishing house I worked for in New York was Walker & Company, whose founder Samuel Walker was long rumored to have been a member of OSS during the war, the CIA’s forerunner, and involved with Radio Free Europe during the Cold War. I remember seeing books in the Walker company library, titles published in the ’50s and ’60s, that were labeled as printed in Poland, suggesting to me that the company still had some level of involvement with America’s outreach to Eastern Europe during the Cold War. This may even explain how Walker happened to be the first American publisher of John Le Carre bringing out Call for the Dead in 1961 and The Spy Who Came in From the Cold in 1963, long before he was well known.
#FridayReads The New Yorker‘s excerpt from Robert Caro’s fourth volume in his long-running LBJ bio. Powerful narrative of the day JFK was killed and LBJ took office, and how this picture came to be taken by WH photographer Cecil Stoughton. As readers of this blog may recall, I’ve had opportunities to converse with Caro and I’m a huge admirer of his 1974 book The Power Broker. It will be a treat to read his latest book when Knopf publishes it in May. I am also finishing James Kunen’s remarkable Diary of a Company Man, which I posted on for my last #FridayReads. Think Aaron Copland’s “Fanfare for a Common Man,” only it’s not set to music, it’s in prose.
Are the creators of comics and graphic works storyteller-artists inspired by the drive to imagine the urban landscape? Or are they journalists, motivated by an impulse to document the cities where they live? As considered by a bevy of comic talent at Columbia University, the answer is they are both—imaginative artists and chroniclers reimagining and reflecting their worlds—and more. The scene for these dynamic discussions was Columbia University’s Low Library where “Comic New York-A Symposium” was held March 24-25. With thirty panelists participating in six panels, plus a keynote discussion with acclaimed X-men writer and collector Chris Claremont, more than 250 comics fans were treated to in-depth conversations about how the comic arts have been influenced by New York City and how the metropolis has absorbed the influence of the comics. Claremont was honored for donating his archive to Columbia University’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library.
The opening panel, “New York, Real and Imagined,” began with Kent Worcester, co-editor of A Comic Studies Reader, sharing five comics images that showcased New York’s tremendous verticality; in “Gasoline Alley,” where Skeezix and Walt ride on a magic carpet high above the city, and in Superman, when the Man of Steel dangles a villain over a yawning chasm between skyscrapers. Along with the verticality the city has lent to comics, Worcester also asked his audience to consider Manhattan’s street grid, a visual analog to the panel format of comic books. Molly Crapabble, illustrator, cartoonist, denizen of New York’s downtown art scene, conceded she’s an outsider to the comics world and said that she makes frequent reference to Thomas Nast and Heironymous Bosch for the crowded scenes of ribaldry she draws. Asked about New York’s underground life, she observed that the subway is “the hair shirt” of the city, contrasted with “the sparkly, silver Babylon” above ground. John Romita, Sr., who drew Spider Man with Stan Lee, said he made New York a veritable “co-star” with the web-spinner, while his son, John Jr., aka JRJR, who drew Daredevil, spoke of the dark and “moody” look he deliberately brought to the series. TV writer and autobiographical comics artist Ariel Schrag told an improbably hilarious story about a brawl at a gay prom she attended at Columbia, events she chronicles in her coming-of-age graphic memoirs. / / read more with many pictures . . .
This is really exciting news. On June 6, to promote his forthcoming memoir Waging Heavy Peace, Neil Young will speak at BEA, the annual book industry convention. I’ve been attending BEA most years since I got started in the book biz in 1978, back when it was still called ABA, and have usually taken a pass on the guest speakers, but not this year. I am very eager to be there for Neil’s appearance and I’m sure lots of other book people will be there too. His publisher, the Blue Rider imprint of Penguin Putnam has put out this release along with the news, explaining that he will be interviewed by someone to be named later. [May 24 update: It’s been announced that Neil’s interlocutor will be Patti Smith.] Speaking of interviews, Jian Gomeshi of CBC Radio One’s “Q” program conducted a great interview last year with Neil, and Daniel Lanois, producer of Neil’s 2011 album “Le Noise.”
I’ve admired Neil since I was fourteen when I saw him perform in Cleveland. I went with my older brother Joel–with whom I would later operate our Cleveland bookstore Undercover Books–and despite my being way under-age, Joel, who would have just turned eighteen, somehow got me past the front door with him. Confirming my memories, Jimmy McDonough’s indispensable book Shakey describes the venue as “a tiny basement coffeehouse,” though I recall it also served liquor. I recall Neil played two consecutive nights, and we even went back for night #2. This was soon after Buffalo Springfield had split up around when his first solo album was released, and before Neil released “Everybody Knows This is Nowhere,” the first album with Crazy Horse.
Neil played solo acoustic sets both nights, but he also had a backing band that opened on its own and later played with him, a tight and country-tinged outfit called Natchez Trace, about whom I’ve found a faint trace online. From that source, a Buffalo Springfield fan site, I see that the shows were on Saturday, May 31 and Sunday, June 1. I recall that the club was not crowded either night. At some point during the two nights, Joel and I availed ourselves of the opportunity to go up and say hello to him. I extended a hand and shared a shake with Neil, then so young, and a bit shy in fringed buckskins and extremely thin, as he was not many years past the polio that had defined his early years, also chronicled in Shakey. When I hear Neil speak on June 6, I’ll be remembering those La Cave gigs and the early days of Neil’s career.
#FridayReads–DIARY OF A COMPANY MAN: Losing a Job, Finding a Life by James S. Kunen, whose Strawberry Statement: Notes of a College Revolutionary was a key 1960s text. After he was laid off from his corporate job in February 2008, Kunen describes himself as too young to retire, too old to hire. I’m still reading that first section of the book, over the weekend I’ll read how he weathers the storm of disemployment and comes out somewhere on the other side. Having experienced my own layoff, Kunen’s is a pitch-perfect rendering of the experience.
Also reading and loving Wayward Saints, a tragi-comic tale of rock ‘n roll, family, and second chances in life, by Suzzy Roche, of the singing Roches.
Update: I’ve now finished both these books, and loved them both, among the very best I’ve read thus far in 2012.
The Kunen book was really excellent on finding a new way through (mid-)life. Enduring my own layoff and disemployment, it was really inspiring to see Kunen, who’d worked in corporate PR at TIME, Inc. before he got dumped by the corporation, discovers a new meaning teaching English to immigrants. It’s titled Diary of a Company Man, and I kept thinking of Aaron Copland’s “Fanfare for a Common Man,” only it’s not etched in musical notes, but prose.
I’ve also now finished Suzzy Roche’s novel and found it to be an infectiously readable treat. I really loved it. It’s filled with wonderful characters spanning the generations and memorable situations. While Roche undoubtedly drew on her years as a traveling musician to flesh out the story, it doesn’t read as if it’s merely a novel about rock ‘n roll written by a musician; it’s a truly satisfying novel by a real writer, clearly not something that was just tossed off. Among the most striking features of it was the relationship between the musician protagonist, Mary Saint, and her mother Jean, from whom she’s long been separated. They learn how to forgive each other for past injuries. The second was the friendship between Mary Saint and her roommate Thaddeus, who becomes her confidant and motivator, able to push her to see what she’s still capable of doing.
First version of this post was written after I’d eagerly RSVP’d to the New American Foundation that I’d be attending the launch party next Monday for Peter Beinart’s brave new book The Crisis of Zionism. I’ve been to several recent events at their NYC loft, and was glad I’d be able to make this one too. Turns out, however, the reception will actually be at the NAF offices in D.C. Still, with Peter under assault for reasonable and progressive positions he’s taken that are correctly critical of the American-Jewish establishment and Israeli policy, in the book, in a NY Times Op-Ed, and on his new blog Zion Square, I’m going to keep this post up, to accompany two others I’ve written recently, Netanyahu & the Right Wing vs. President Obama and Iran and Iraq–Deja Vu All Over Again? and send it out via social media as I would for any other post. With Israel perhaps on the verge of an ill-considered attack on Iran, the times are just too charged with peril to do anything less.
Now well past my twenty-fifth year of living in New York City, I’m still a fan of going out to hear live music in Gotham. Last week, for instance, I attended two great shows, blogging about them here and here. Tonight, finding the video I’m coupling with this post I was reminded that I was keen on hearing live music here even before I thought about moving to the metropolis.
In 1983, then living in Cleveland and running Undercover Books and Records with my sister Pamela and brother Joel and our parents Earl and Sylvia, Joel and I drove to NYC one summer weekend for a record release party. The band with the new album was The Drongos, an ebullient New Zealand quartet. We were already fans of the outfit, and making it even better was that they were managed by book biz friends Mike Shatzkin and Martha Moran. Their debut album was feted, I think, somewhere around Irving Place, though I could be mistaken about the location. I do remember it was a great night, because the album was not only on hand to be celebrated, but of course the band too. The friendly foursome–Jean McAllister, guitar and keyboards; Stanley John Mitchell, drums; Richard Kennedy, guitar; and Tony McMaster, bass–wrote their own songs and played several of the ten tunes from their self-titled LP during the evening. Looking at the album sleeve today, I recall such great songs as “Eye of the Hurricane” and “Life of Crime.” “Non Citizen,” written by Mitchell, typified the uneasy world of a visitor living in a country’s shadows:
Living life as a non-citizen
Living under the table, keep your profile low.
Leaving friends landed in another time,
Came looking hoping to find the stages set.
Stony faces sleeping in the subway
And in the nights hiding in the clubs, they let it show.
Swim or sink, winning or losing,
No one said the city had to play a good clean game,
I say:
Deep down, where we live
Life seems so absurd
But we keep on making the best of the western world.
Today those lyrics read like an 80s rock ‘n roll version of Tom McCarthy’s splendid 2008 movie “The Visitor.” Even while singing sensitive lyrics like those, The Drongos were a damn fine rock band, superbly professional musicians, entertaining, and tons of fun to hear live.
That whole trip with my brother, and that summer night in particular, was a great time. I remember it all fondly, not least because Joel died suddenly in 2008. Soon after moving to NYC in ’85 I looked up Jean McAlister and Tony McMaster, who were married and by then had a young daughter, Carmen. I remember a golden day I shared with them and baby Carmen in Riverside Park. As is wont to happen with so many bands, circumstances spun them out of their collective orbit, which doesn’t diminish the great band they were for a good stretch of time.
I was reminded of all this tonight when I saw that Richard Kennedy is still playing music, living in the UK–has a terrific new video on Facebook of him playing guitar, pasted in above. H/t to Ira Nonkin who posted it on Facebook, and to Martha Moran, who brought it to my attention. So glad I still have my LP, so I could shoot the sleeve for this blog essay. The original album pictures were shot by photographer Leslie Fratkin, another old friend of Mike and Martha. For his part, Mike has also blogged about working with The Drongos. // more …. [Click ‘Continue Reading’ to see detail of album photo]