1959, possibly first edition from Little, Brown and Company
Written and illustrated by James Thurber
The Years with Ross
Original and purchase price unknown
Worn hardcover
B+
This is my last book from the 1950s and easily the funniest. Harold Ross, publisher of The New Yorker, was unique, an unsophisticated guy who published a sophisticated magazine. He was full of contradictions like that, and Thurber clearly delighted in him, particularly his way of expressing himself. (One quote is something like, "I don't want you to think I'm not inarticulate.")
I wondered on my Is Sex Necessary post if Thurber had co-written or just illustrated that book, and he does talk about it here. He wrote it with White, who thought that Thurber should also illustrate it, although Thurber was not yet known as an illustrator. Ross had some funny reactions to the publication, partly because he never knew what to make of Thurber's art.
The illustrations in this book are less tied to the text, although I presume they're all from The New Yorker. Thurber talks about a few of them, including Ross's criticisms (of a first wife on top of a bookcase, who's not "stuffed, or just dead," he understandably asked, "Then, goddam it, what's she doing naked in the house of her former husband and his second wife?"), but mostly they're there for decoration.
Ross died in 1951, Thurber in '61.
Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1950s. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Ingrid Bergman: An Intimate Portrait
1959, 1960 Popular Library edition
Joseph Henry Steele
Ingrid Bergman: An Intimate Portrait
Original price 50 cents, purchase price unknown
Very worn paperback with split spine
B-
Bergman's confidante Steele tells of her life of onscreen and off dramas, with almost a third of the book relating that tumultuous year 1949, when Bergman met, fell in love with, ran off with, got pregnant by, and made a movie with director Roberto Rossellini, although they were both married with children. This was probably the biggest post-World-War-II Hollywood scandal.
Both Bergman's first husband, Dr. Lindström, and Rossellini come off as controlling jerks, although, true to ethnic stereotypes, Swedish Lindström sounds aloof and unemotional, while Italian Rossellini was more of a drama king. In less than a decade, the Rossellini marriage was also falling apart, and since it was of dubious legality, it, too was dissolved. Bergman married another Swede, Lars Schmidt, who sounds more even-tempered. But according to Wikipedia, they divorced as well, in 1975. Bergman died of cancer in 1982 at age 67.
She had long since made a comeback. While at first she was threatened with having her films banned, she continued to work, mostly in flops by Rossellini, and then more successfully with others. She won her second Oscar for Anastastia (1956), and was warmly welcomed when she was a presenter at the 1959 Oscars.
As for this book, it's pretty good, although it has two disadvantages, "intimate portrait" or not. One, Steele couldn't be there for most of the important moments, and there were times (like when she was secretly pregnant) that Bergman actually lied to him. This gives it a second-hand feel, and I wonder if her Ingrid Bergman: My Story (1980) might be a better book for being more direct. The other flaw is that Steele's clear dislike of Bergman's first two husbands may overemphasize their jerkiness, and they might not have been quite as bad as they seem. (Schmidt comes off better.)
I've seen two or three Bergman movies-- Casablanca, Gaslight (which earned her first Oscar), and I can't remember about Notorious-- and while Bergman was certainly a good actress (not amazing) and pretty (not beautiful), she seems to have been more likable offscreen. With the quotes from her conversations and letters, her wit, bravery, and modesty shine through. I'll try to read her autobiography someday, or at least see Murder on the Orient Express, for which she won her third Oscar.
Joseph Henry Steele
Ingrid Bergman: An Intimate Portrait
Original price 50 cents, purchase price unknown
Very worn paperback with split spine
B-
Bergman's confidante Steele tells of her life of onscreen and off dramas, with almost a third of the book relating that tumultuous year 1949, when Bergman met, fell in love with, ran off with, got pregnant by, and made a movie with director Roberto Rossellini, although they were both married with children. This was probably the biggest post-World-War-II Hollywood scandal.
Both Bergman's first husband, Dr. Lindström, and Rossellini come off as controlling jerks, although, true to ethnic stereotypes, Swedish Lindström sounds aloof and unemotional, while Italian Rossellini was more of a drama king. In less than a decade, the Rossellini marriage was also falling apart, and since it was of dubious legality, it, too was dissolved. Bergman married another Swede, Lars Schmidt, who sounds more even-tempered. But according to Wikipedia, they divorced as well, in 1975. Bergman died of cancer in 1982 at age 67.
She had long since made a comeback. While at first she was threatened with having her films banned, she continued to work, mostly in flops by Rossellini, and then more successfully with others. She won her second Oscar for Anastastia (1956), and was warmly welcomed when she was a presenter at the 1959 Oscars.
As for this book, it's pretty good, although it has two disadvantages, "intimate portrait" or not. One, Steele couldn't be there for most of the important moments, and there were times (like when she was secretly pregnant) that Bergman actually lied to him. This gives it a second-hand feel, and I wonder if her Ingrid Bergman: My Story (1980) might be a better book for being more direct. The other flaw is that Steele's clear dislike of Bergman's first two husbands may overemphasize their jerkiness, and they might not have been quite as bad as they seem. (Schmidt comes off better.)
I've seen two or three Bergman movies-- Casablanca, Gaslight (which earned her first Oscar), and I can't remember about Notorious-- and while Bergman was certainly a good actress (not amazing) and pretty (not beautiful), she seems to have been more likable offscreen. With the quotes from her conversations and letters, her wit, bravery, and modesty shine through. I'll try to read her autobiography someday, or at least see Murder on the Orient Express, for which she won her third Oscar.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Date with a Career
1958, possibly original edition, from Funk & Wagnalls
Jan Nickerson
Date with a Career
Original and purchase price unknown
Fairly good condition hardcover
B-
Although this is a less realistic and more stiltedly written book than Something Foolish, Something Gay, I prefer it. For one thing, the central romantic relationship is much healthier. It is odd that one date means "going steady" in Fairmeadows, but Saphronia's boyfriend Jock is fun and supportive, without being a bully like Sammy. He's proud of her talent for clothes design and encourages her in her "date with a career." She also has some supportive female friends, one of whom wisely advises her to go by her middle name of Lee. This being a high school story, Lee of course has a spoiled, rich rival, although without the complexity or Machiavellianism of Mignon LaSalle in the Marjorie Dean books.
Unlike Marjorie Dean, I'm putting this in the YA category, because it does have a bit of kissing (much less than Something Foolish), as well as Lee being offered a cigarette and alcohol. It's still a pretty wholesome book, with even the hot-rodder turning out to be a nice guy.
Jan Nickerson
Date with a Career
Original and purchase price unknown
Fairly good condition hardcover
B-
Although this is a less realistic and more stiltedly written book than Something Foolish, Something Gay, I prefer it. For one thing, the central romantic relationship is much healthier. It is odd that one date means "going steady" in Fairmeadows, but Saphronia's boyfriend Jock is fun and supportive, without being a bully like Sammy. He's proud of her talent for clothes design and encourages her in her "date with a career." She also has some supportive female friends, one of whom wisely advises her to go by her middle name of Lee. This being a high school story, Lee of course has a spoiled, rich rival, although without the complexity or Machiavellianism of Mignon LaSalle in the Marjorie Dean books.
Unlike Marjorie Dean, I'm putting this in the YA category, because it does have a bit of kissing (much less than Something Foolish), as well as Lee being offered a cigarette and alcohol. It's still a pretty wholesome book, with even the hot-rodder turning out to be a nice guy.
A Ripple from the Storm
1958, 1991 Plume edition
Doris Lessing
A Ripple from the Storm
Bought new for $8.95
Worn paperback
B-
An improvement over the second book in the series, this covers several months in 1943 to 1944, as Martha gets involved (politically and emotionally) with the local Communists. Her first husband, after some more guilt-tripping, divorces her, so of course she gets married foolishly a second time. Her second husband is the leader of the local Communists and, as with Douglas, she doesn't love him or particularly like him. She does say at one point that she needs to stop drifting, but of course doesn't.
I was glad to see more of Jasmine, who's humble and yet so perfect that when the comrades have to criticize each other at a meeting, all they can come up with is that she's a workaholic. I suppose Jasmine would be annoying in another novel, but she's such a pleasant contrast to Martha that I was sorry when she left town. But at least she left town, instead of endlessly talking about it, like most of the cast.
There's also more of Maisie, Martha's childhood "friend." They weren't close as girls, but they become better friends as women. I was confused by Maisie's pregnancy because I could've sworn she was also pregnant in the last book, yet no mention is made of that. Did that baby die? I ask because a big deal is made out of Maisie being married and widowed twice yet having nothing to show for it. This time, she's pregnant by a rich idiot, with the sort of now ironic name of Binkie (as in pacifier). She doesn't want to marry him because of his interfering parents, so she marries someone else but unfortunately she and her third husband fall in love.
That's how it goes in a Lessing novel. Oh, and there's much more about politics than in the first two novels, although it's mostly about the in-fighting, and about their stupidity over Stalin. (Lessing gives "immature" Solly Cohen, a Trotskyite, the most astute observations about Russia.)
Doris Lessing
A Ripple from the Storm
Bought new for $8.95
Worn paperback
B-
An improvement over the second book in the series, this covers several months in 1943 to 1944, as Martha gets involved (politically and emotionally) with the local Communists. Her first husband, after some more guilt-tripping, divorces her, so of course she gets married foolishly a second time. Her second husband is the leader of the local Communists and, as with Douglas, she doesn't love him or particularly like him. She does say at one point that she needs to stop drifting, but of course doesn't.
I was glad to see more of Jasmine, who's humble and yet so perfect that when the comrades have to criticize each other at a meeting, all they can come up with is that she's a workaholic. I suppose Jasmine would be annoying in another novel, but she's such a pleasant contrast to Martha that I was sorry when she left town. But at least she left town, instead of endlessly talking about it, like most of the cast.
There's also more of Maisie, Martha's childhood "friend." They weren't close as girls, but they become better friends as women. I was confused by Maisie's pregnancy because I could've sworn she was also pregnant in the last book, yet no mention is made of that. Did that baby die? I ask because a big deal is made out of Maisie being married and widowed twice yet having nothing to show for it. This time, she's pregnant by a rich idiot, with the sort of now ironic name of Binkie (as in pacifier). She doesn't want to marry him because of his interfering parents, so she marries someone else but unfortunately she and her third husband fall in love.
That's how it goes in a Lessing novel. Oh, and there's much more about politics than in the first two novels, although it's mostly about the in-fighting, and about their stupidity over Stalin. (Lessing gives "immature" Solly Cohen, a Trotskyite, the most astute observations about Russia.)
G. O. Fizzickle Pogo
1958
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
G. O. Fizzickle Pogo
B
The title refers to the 18-month-long International Geophysical Year of 1957-58. Howland Owl, the scientist who wears a wizard's cap, of course happily embraces the concept and plans to send some of the swamp critters into space. He even plans a honeymoon on the moon for Beauregard Bugleboy. You see, there's a flea of indeterminate gender who wants to marry the hound. No one objects, even though the flea is usually referred to as "he," except for Beauregard, who understandably doesn't want to marry a flea. And then earlier there's a plot where Howland has Albert dress up as Lulu Arfin' Nanny, Beauregard's silent-screen star crush, so that Albert can seduce Beauregard and push him off the moon (when it's in its crescent stage and therefore smaller), so that Howland can conquer the moon. There's a strip where Albert as Lulu does the Charleston and then kisses Howland, crying "Ta-boo!" I am not making this up. This ran in daily newspaper strips.
There's less of politics, although the ways that various parties fight over the moon and over the straight-down canal that will eliminate the need for the Suez certainly have parallels to the actions of various countries of the time and later.
Oh, and we get what might be the first version of Beauregard's answer to "Deck Us All (with Boston Charlie)," his stirring rendition of "Bark Us All Bow-Wows of Folly."
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
G. O. Fizzickle Pogo
B
The title refers to the 18-month-long International Geophysical Year of 1957-58. Howland Owl, the scientist who wears a wizard's cap, of course happily embraces the concept and plans to send some of the swamp critters into space. He even plans a honeymoon on the moon for Beauregard Bugleboy. You see, there's a flea of indeterminate gender who wants to marry the hound. No one objects, even though the flea is usually referred to as "he," except for Beauregard, who understandably doesn't want to marry a flea. And then earlier there's a plot where Howland has Albert dress up as Lulu Arfin' Nanny, Beauregard's silent-screen star crush, so that Albert can seduce Beauregard and push him off the moon (when it's in its crescent stage and therefore smaller), so that Howland can conquer the moon. There's a strip where Albert as Lulu does the Charleston and then kisses Howland, crying "Ta-boo!" I am not making this up. This ran in daily newspaper strips.
There's less of politics, although the ways that various parties fight over the moon and over the straight-down canal that will eliminate the need for the Suez certainly have parallels to the actions of various countries of the time and later.
Oh, and we get what might be the first version of Beauregard's answer to "Deck Us All (with Boston Charlie)," his stirring rendition of "Bark Us All Bow-Wows of Folly."
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Rocks on the Roof
1958, possibly first edition, from G. P. Putnam's Sons
Jim Backus
Rocks on the Roof
Original price unknown, purchase price $2.75
Worn hardcover
B-
Backus writes about radio, TV, and the movies, as well as his adored wife Henny and various homes they've had, including the place where rocks kept mysteriously appearing on their roof. Since I grew up with Mr. Magoo and Gilligan's Island, I wanted to like this book more on the reread than I did, but a lot of his humor falls flat. The funniest part is actually the series of quotes for Hubert Updyke III, his popular radio character, the richest man in the world, so sort of a proto-Thurston-Howell. The tribute to James Dean, whose father Backus played in Rebel without a Cause (which I still need to see someday), is probably the most interesting aspect of the book to a modern reader.
Jim Backus
Rocks on the Roof
Original price unknown, purchase price $2.75
Worn hardcover
B-
Backus writes about radio, TV, and the movies, as well as his adored wife Henny and various homes they've had, including the place where rocks kept mysteriously appearing on their roof. Since I grew up with Mr. Magoo and Gilligan's Island, I wanted to like this book more on the reread than I did, but a lot of his humor falls flat. The funniest part is actually the series of quotes for Hubert Updyke III, his popular radio character, the richest man in the world, so sort of a proto-Thurston-Howell. The tribute to James Dean, whose father Backus played in Rebel without a Cause (which I still need to see someday), is probably the most interesting aspect of the book to a modern reader.
Please Don't Eat the Daisies
1957, Doubleday, possibly first edition
Jean Kerr
Illustrated by Carl Rose
Please Don't Eat the Daisies
Original and purchase price unknown
Worn hardcover with very worn dustjacket
B
Kerr's sarcastic honesty makes this book feel fresher than most of the other books of its time. She admits that her four young sons deliberately drive her crazy, and she thinks dieting and getting up before noon are even crazier. She married theater critic Walter Kerr and herself wrote some plays, including Mary, Mary, which used to be the longest-running non-musical on Broadway. They had two more children, including finally a girl, and I first heard of Jean Kerr on the back flap of Freaky Friday, where she said something like "If I'm in any way typical (I am in every way typical), mothers will love this book, too."
She was not typical in the sense that she was a "normal" 1950s wife and mother, but she seems to have been relatable, even now, even for someone who's only been married about 10% of my life and never had kids. (But then, I was reading Erma Bombeck when I was ten.) Besides her observations on marriage and motherhood, Kerr also satirizes Mickey Spillane and the "depressed French" genre, the latter piece called "Toujours Tristesse."
This book, which like Bombeck is just a collection of humorous essays, became a movie with Doris Day and David Niven in 1960, and a TV show from 1965 to 1967. I watched the latter as a child but all I can remember is the theme music was catchy and there were twins. The movie is more interesting than funny. Instead, read the book if you can find it. Plus, the illustrations are funny in their literalness.
Jean Kerr
Illustrated by Carl Rose
Please Don't Eat the Daisies
Original and purchase price unknown
Worn hardcover with very worn dustjacket
B
Kerr's sarcastic honesty makes this book feel fresher than most of the other books of its time. She admits that her four young sons deliberately drive her crazy, and she thinks dieting and getting up before noon are even crazier. She married theater critic Walter Kerr and herself wrote some plays, including Mary, Mary, which used to be the longest-running non-musical on Broadway. They had two more children, including finally a girl, and I first heard of Jean Kerr on the back flap of Freaky Friday, where she said something like "If I'm in any way typical (I am in every way typical), mothers will love this book, too."
She was not typical in the sense that she was a "normal" 1950s wife and mother, but she seems to have been relatable, even now, even for someone who's only been married about 10% of my life and never had kids. (But then, I was reading Erma Bombeck when I was ten.) Besides her observations on marriage and motherhood, Kerr also satirizes Mickey Spillane and the "depressed French" genre, the latter piece called "Toujours Tristesse."
This book, which like Bombeck is just a collection of humorous essays, became a movie with Doris Day and David Niven in 1960, and a TV show from 1965 to 1967. I watched the latter as a child but all I can remember is the theme music was catchy and there were twins. The movie is more interesting than funny. Instead, read the book if you can find it. Plus, the illustrations are funny in their literalness.
Positively Pogo
1957, 1979 Simon and Schuster edition with G. O. Fizzickle Pogo, under the joint title Pogo's Will Be That Was
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
Positively Pogo
Bought newish for $5.95
Very worn paperback with a couple pages coming loose
B
This includes the 1956 election, with advice from a pig who resembles Khrushchev; satire of TV, especially comedy; and, best of all, Pogo and the Mouse (I forget his name, but the sophisticated one with a bowler and cane) being blasted in a trash-can rocket ship and landing in Australia, where Pogo represents Mars in the Olympics. Some of the pithier quotes involve friendship and its opposite, such as Albert's observation that it's getting so a man can't even count on his enemies. Oh, and Churchy's routine with Howland Owl about how Churchy is going to make money is amusing in a "Who's on First" sort of way.
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
Positively Pogo
Bought newish for $5.95
Very worn paperback with a couple pages coming loose
B
This includes the 1956 election, with advice from a pig who resembles Khrushchev; satire of TV, especially comedy; and, best of all, Pogo and the Mouse (I forget his name, but the sophisticated one with a bowler and cane) being blasted in a trash-can rocket ship and landing in Australia, where Pogo represents Mars in the Olympics. Some of the pithier quotes involve friendship and its opposite, such as Albert's observation that it's getting so a man can't even count on his enemies. Oh, and Churchy's routine with Howland Owl about how Churchy is going to make money is amusing in a "Who's on First" sort of way.
Friday, June 15, 2012
The Butler Did It
1956
P. G. Wodehouse
The Butler Did It
C+
This is much better than the first three stories from the collection in that it has a decent plot, and plot twist, about a marriage tontine (bet). There are again typos, and at least the third character named Bill in the volume, but I wasn't as restless as before. Hardly classic Wodehouse, but on a level with If I Were You. The volume averages out to a C, so I won't be keeping it. Oh, and the title of this story could apply to any of the five stories, since they all contain butlers, although Avenel seems to think Jeeves is a butler, rather than a valet.
P. G. Wodehouse
The Butler Did It
C+
This is much better than the first three stories from the collection in that it has a decent plot, and plot twist, about a marriage tontine (bet). There are again typos, and at least the third character named Bill in the volume, but I wasn't as restless as before. Hardly classic Wodehouse, but on a level with If I Were You. The volume averages out to a C, so I won't be keeping it. Oh, and the title of this story could apply to any of the five stories, since they all contain butlers, although Avenel seems to think Jeeves is a butler, rather than a valet.
The Bedside MAD
1956, 1964 Signet edition
The Bedside MAD
Original price 50 cents, purchase price 25 cents
Worn and waterlogged paperback
C
A disappointing successor to The MAD Reader, this contains mostly unfunny and/or forgettable stories. Only "Restaurant!", with the detailed Bill Elder art and a description of a family dining at a "chow-mein restaurant (popular in big cities)," and "Robinson Crusoe," again with Bill Elder craziness and better than average writing from Kurtzman (including a surprisingly enviromentalist message), feel fresh and original. There's nothing terrible, except for some of the Jack Davis illustrations, but it's hard to believe that this is a "Best of."
The Bedside MAD
Original price 50 cents, purchase price 25 cents
Worn and waterlogged paperback
C
A disappointing successor to The MAD Reader, this contains mostly unfunny and/or forgettable stories. Only "Restaurant!", with the detailed Bill Elder art and a description of a family dining at a "chow-mein restaurant (popular in big cities)," and "Robinson Crusoe," again with Bill Elder craziness and better than average writing from Kurtzman (including a surprisingly enviromentalist message), feel fresh and original. There's nothing terrible, except for some of the Jack Davis illustrations, but it's hard to believe that this is a "Best of."
Bertie Wooster Sees It Through
1955
P. G. Wodehouse
Bertie Wooster Sees It Through
B-
It's so nice to have Bertie back as narrator that I don't mind that this is one of the weaker stories in the series. It refers to events in Joy in the Morning (1946), which I'm not sure if I've read, but that book has Aunt Agatha becoming the stepmother of Lady Florence Craye, Bertie's former fiancée who's now betrothed to "Stilton" Cheesewright. Both Florence and Stilton appear in this novel, as do Aunt Dahlia (who's only been publishing Milady's Boudoir for three years somehow), and Roderick Spode, now Lord Sidcup. So we're further along in the Wooster chronology, but I'm not sure how much, beyond it's July and Humphrey Bogart is a popular actor. (1941 maybe?)
Yes, there are typos, including a whole line of narration replaced by a line that also appears later. The original title of the story was Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit, which fits the story better, but perhaps the publishers of this collection didn't want "Jeeves" in two titles of the five. For those keep tracking, this is at least the second time that Bertie has grown facial hair that Jeeves has disapproved of. There's a reference to David Niven's mustache, which almost counts as in-joke, since Niven played Bertie back in 1936.
Wodehouse has a bit of fun with his own age in his musings on book dedications, telling his friend, "I have rather gone off dedications these last forty years or so," and speaking of how it was "back at the turn of the century." By this point, Wodehouse was about 74, and he had indeed been publishing since 1902. He was far from done of course, and there's still one more story in this collection....
P. G. Wodehouse
Bertie Wooster Sees It Through
B-
It's so nice to have Bertie back as narrator that I don't mind that this is one of the weaker stories in the series. It refers to events in Joy in the Morning (1946), which I'm not sure if I've read, but that book has Aunt Agatha becoming the stepmother of Lady Florence Craye, Bertie's former fiancée who's now betrothed to "Stilton" Cheesewright. Both Florence and Stilton appear in this novel, as do Aunt Dahlia (who's only been publishing Milady's Boudoir for three years somehow), and Roderick Spode, now Lord Sidcup. So we're further along in the Wooster chronology, but I'm not sure how much, beyond it's July and Humphrey Bogart is a popular actor. (1941 maybe?)
Yes, there are typos, including a whole line of narration replaced by a line that also appears later. The original title of the story was Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit, which fits the story better, but perhaps the publishers of this collection didn't want "Jeeves" in two titles of the five. For those keep tracking, this is at least the second time that Bertie has grown facial hair that Jeeves has disapproved of. There's a reference to David Niven's mustache, which almost counts as in-joke, since Niven played Bertie back in 1936.
Wodehouse has a bit of fun with his own age in his musings on book dedications, telling his friend, "I have rather gone off dedications these last forty years or so," and speaking of how it was "back at the turn of the century." By this point, Wodehouse was about 74, and he had indeed been publishing since 1902. He was far from done of course, and there's still one more story in this collection....
Something Foolish, Something Gay
1955, 1968 Berkley [sic] Highland edition
Glen and Jane Sire
Something Foolish, Something Gay
Original price 50 cents, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
C+
It's impossible to talk about this book without talking about how dated it is. Let's start with the title. Now, in the mid-1950s, the "homosexual" meaning of "gay" had been around for at least a couple decades, although it had barely hit the mainstream at the time this edition was released. (Stonewall was the following year.) By the time I first read this YA novel in junior high, I knew of the "new" and "old" meanings of "gay." But it wasn't for another decade or two that "gay" came to mean, well, "foolish." The title comes from 16-year-old Laurie's suggestion of a frivolous gift, which causes her prospective boyfriend Sammy to buy her a puppy.
There are some homosexuals mentioned in the novel, although the Sires would presumably have been shocked when dreamy Rock Hudson and abstract (marvelous) Tab Hunter came out. (After all, Rock was still closeted when I was Laurie's age, and Tab didn't come out till 2006, although there had been rumors about both for a long time.) The book is full of then-topical references, and Laurie compares two suave, handsome college men to those actors.
I don't remember what edition the junior high library had, but I think I knew it was set in the 1950s, if for no other reason than that Laurie keeps saying "dippy" for "awesome," while I would've guessed it had something to do with silliness or ice cream. This edition screams 1968. Here's the front cover:
The back cover tells us that Sammy is "a crew-cut type." The novel also tells us that Sammy's blond, but apparently the illustrator of the front cover didn't get the word. He also has decided to give Laurie the Twiggy look, while the "cherry-colored bomb" of the book looks psychedelic enough to be John Lennon's car.
Anyway, the story is actually a series of anecdotes, all of them with Laurie thinking she knows best and being proven wrong. She's the narrator and has a breezy, slangy style. For the most part I like the book, even if now I'm more likely to relate to her wise if vague mother. I can't disagree much with New York Herald Tribune, who said, "Laurie and Sammy are the pleasantest pair of teens to pop from between the covers of a book in some time," although they don't have much competition in my book collection so far.
And then we get to the last chapter, where Sammy tricks and bullies Laurie into entering a drama competition, which she wins. And he literally drags her onto stage when she gets stage fright. The last paragraph has him "grab her elbow in a viselike grip" and "tug her" back onstage to receive her scholarship. "Suddenly, then, I knew what I wanted, all the rest of my life-- that grip, on my elbow. I don't care, I thought, wincing happily, if it breaks every bone in my body!" Oh, those happy-go-lucky teens!
Anyway, I'd otherwise give the book a B-. Read it at your own risk and for the 1950sness, good and bad.
Glen and Jane Sire
Something Foolish, Something Gay
Original price 50 cents, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
C+
It's impossible to talk about this book without talking about how dated it is. Let's start with the title. Now, in the mid-1950s, the "homosexual" meaning of "gay" had been around for at least a couple decades, although it had barely hit the mainstream at the time this edition was released. (Stonewall was the following year.) By the time I first read this YA novel in junior high, I knew of the "new" and "old" meanings of "gay." But it wasn't for another decade or two that "gay" came to mean, well, "foolish." The title comes from 16-year-old Laurie's suggestion of a frivolous gift, which causes her prospective boyfriend Sammy to buy her a puppy.
There are some homosexuals mentioned in the novel, although the Sires would presumably have been shocked when dreamy Rock Hudson and abstract (marvelous) Tab Hunter came out. (After all, Rock was still closeted when I was Laurie's age, and Tab didn't come out till 2006, although there had been rumors about both for a long time.) The book is full of then-topical references, and Laurie compares two suave, handsome college men to those actors.
I don't remember what edition the junior high library had, but I think I knew it was set in the 1950s, if for no other reason than that Laurie keeps saying "dippy" for "awesome," while I would've guessed it had something to do with silliness or ice cream. This edition screams 1968. Here's the front cover:
 |
| It's the 1950s, honest! |
The back cover tells us that Sammy is "a crew-cut type." The novel also tells us that Sammy's blond, but apparently the illustrator of the front cover didn't get the word. He also has decided to give Laurie the Twiggy look, while the "cherry-colored bomb" of the book looks psychedelic enough to be John Lennon's car.
Anyway, the story is actually a series of anecdotes, all of them with Laurie thinking she knows best and being proven wrong. She's the narrator and has a breezy, slangy style. For the most part I like the book, even if now I'm more likely to relate to her wise if vague mother. I can't disagree much with New York Herald Tribune, who said, "Laurie and Sammy are the pleasantest pair of teens to pop from between the covers of a book in some time," although they don't have much competition in my book collection so far.
And then we get to the last chapter, where Sammy tricks and bullies Laurie into entering a drama competition, which she wins. And he literally drags her onto stage when she gets stage fright. The last paragraph has him "grab her elbow in a viselike grip" and "tug her" back onstage to receive her scholarship. "Suddenly, then, I knew what I wanted, all the rest of my life-- that grip, on my elbow. I don't care, I thought, wincing happily, if it breaks every bone in my body!" Oh, those happy-go-lucky teens!
Anyway, I'd otherwise give the book a B-. Read it at your own risk and for the 1950sness, good and bad.
The Borrowers Afield
1955, 1983 Odyssey Classic edition
Mary Norton
Illustrated by Beth and Joe Krush
The Borrowers Afield
Original price $3.95, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
B-
I read the Borrowers series, as well as The Littles, as a child, but I checked the books out from the library. I bought this copy in the past decade and I don't remember reading it more than once before this. So, unlike Charlotte's Web for example, it's not a big part of my life. Consuming the second book in the series, I could still follow well enough, although the frame device, of a story told to someone who was told by Arrietty (the girl Borrower), is clumsy and unnecessary. The writing and illustrations are pretty good, roughly halfway between those of Hidden Valley of Oz and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I like the descriptions of nature and the ways that the personalities of the Clock family (Arrietty and her parents, Pod and Homily) play off each other.
There have been several screen adaptations of The Borrowers, including a 2011 version with Stephen Fry, but I've never seen any.
Mary Norton
Illustrated by Beth and Joe Krush
The Borrowers Afield
Original price $3.95, purchase price unknown
Worn paperback
B-
I read the Borrowers series, as well as The Littles, as a child, but I checked the books out from the library. I bought this copy in the past decade and I don't remember reading it more than once before this. So, unlike Charlotte's Web for example, it's not a big part of my life. Consuming the second book in the series, I could still follow well enough, although the frame device, of a story told to someone who was told by Arrietty (the girl Borrower), is clumsy and unnecessary. The writing and illustrations are pretty good, roughly halfway between those of Hidden Valley of Oz and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I like the descriptions of nature and the ways that the personalities of the Clock family (Arrietty and her parents, Pod and Homily) play off each other.
There have been several screen adaptations of The Borrowers, including a 2011 version with Stephen Fry, but I've never seen any.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade
1955, undated but probably 1974 (see below) Popular Library edition
Patrick Dennis
Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade
Original price 95 cents, purchase price $1.25
Paperback with every page detached from the binding
B
As you can guess from the condition, I've read this book a lot, although of course I bought it used. The cover says it inspired "the new Warner Bros.' [sic] picture Mame-- starring Lucille Ball," which came out in 1974. Since Lucy was already 18 and an actress at the time the beginning of the book is set (1929), it's hard to buy her as 35ish Mame, although her offkey singing does add to the so-bad-it's-goodness. Rosalind Russell did a much better job onstage and screen in the late 1950s, although she was about 50 at the time, and she took the title of her autobiography, Life Is a Banquet, from the script. (It doesn't appear in the novel. I'll get to Russell's book in the late 1970s.)
Although Dennis named the nephew narrator after himself, "Patrick Dennis" was actually one of the two pseudonyms of Edward Everett Tanner III, who'd earlier published two novels as "Virginia Rowans." This book was his breakthrough, an immediate success that appealed to a wide range of people. Even now, it's a fun, frothy read, with a camp/queer sensibility. (Tanner was bisexual.) Not that the book is pro-gay, with "dike" [sic] as a Mamian slur, but it's not anti-gay either, since Mame has many male homosexual friends.
The book is full of contradictions like that. Is Mame a snob, or is she just snobbish towards snobs? Is she open-minded and tolerant, or does she raise a boy who can call their beloved servant a "Jap" without irony? (Both as it turns out.) She is "color blind" about race, and yet she happily buys into a plantation fantasy when she gets married to a rich Southerner.
The main thing Mame is is an Auntie Mame type, that is she's eccentric, flamboyant, self-centered, and yet good-hearted. Patrick is, more than Vera Charles, "her best friend and severest critic." He tells anecdotes of his life with her, each connected by a contrast with an "Unforgettable Character" from Reader's Digest. (This linkage was at the suggestion of Tanner's editor, if I remember correctly.) Mame's outrageousness is meant to conflict with the stodginess around her, but by 1955 her nephew has grown up to be a perfectly normal upper-middle-class man. The book ends with her about to take his 7-year-old son Mike to India.
The book is dated in that outrageousness isn't the same as it was back then. One still revolutionary aspect though is that Mame is quite sexual, well into her 40s. Yes, she's mocked for dating a college student half her age when she's 45, but there's no question that he and many other men find her desirable, as she finds them. And she's never punished for this, although she has setbacks of course. Even pathetic Agnes Gooch, who's both homely spinster (at 19!) and fallen woman (at 21), gets a happy ending. After reading so many books where sexual women (in or out of marriage) suffer for it, Auntie Mame is a breath of fresh air.
Plus, I think the name "Lindsay Woolsey" for a publisher is inspired.
Patrick Dennis
Auntie Mame: An Irreverent Escapade
Original price 95 cents, purchase price $1.25
Paperback with every page detached from the binding
B
As you can guess from the condition, I've read this book a lot, although of course I bought it used. The cover says it inspired "the new Warner Bros.' [sic] picture Mame-- starring Lucille Ball," which came out in 1974. Since Lucy was already 18 and an actress at the time the beginning of the book is set (1929), it's hard to buy her as 35ish Mame, although her offkey singing does add to the so-bad-it's-goodness. Rosalind Russell did a much better job onstage and screen in the late 1950s, although she was about 50 at the time, and she took the title of her autobiography, Life Is a Banquet, from the script. (It doesn't appear in the novel. I'll get to Russell's book in the late 1970s.)
Although Dennis named the nephew narrator after himself, "Patrick Dennis" was actually one of the two pseudonyms of Edward Everett Tanner III, who'd earlier published two novels as "Virginia Rowans." This book was his breakthrough, an immediate success that appealed to a wide range of people. Even now, it's a fun, frothy read, with a camp/queer sensibility. (Tanner was bisexual.) Not that the book is pro-gay, with "dike" [sic] as a Mamian slur, but it's not anti-gay either, since Mame has many male homosexual friends.
The book is full of contradictions like that. Is Mame a snob, or is she just snobbish towards snobs? Is she open-minded and tolerant, or does she raise a boy who can call their beloved servant a "Jap" without irony? (Both as it turns out.) She is "color blind" about race, and yet she happily buys into a plantation fantasy when she gets married to a rich Southerner.
The main thing Mame is is an Auntie Mame type, that is she's eccentric, flamboyant, self-centered, and yet good-hearted. Patrick is, more than Vera Charles, "her best friend and severest critic." He tells anecdotes of his life with her, each connected by a contrast with an "Unforgettable Character" from Reader's Digest. (This linkage was at the suggestion of Tanner's editor, if I remember correctly.) Mame's outrageousness is meant to conflict with the stodginess around her, but by 1955 her nephew has grown up to be a perfectly normal upper-middle-class man. The book ends with her about to take his 7-year-old son Mike to India.
The book is dated in that outrageousness isn't the same as it was back then. One still revolutionary aspect though is that Mame is quite sexual, well into her 40s. Yes, she's mocked for dating a college student half her age when she's 45, but there's no question that he and many other men find her desirable, as she finds them. And she's never punished for this, although she has setbacks of course. Even pathetic Agnes Gooch, who's both homely spinster (at 19!) and fallen woman (at 21), gets a happy ending. After reading so many books where sexual women (in or out of marriage) suffer for it, Auntie Mame is a breath of fresh air.
Plus, I think the name "Lindsay Woolsey" for a publisher is inspired.
Monday, June 11, 2012
I'll Cry Tomorrow
1954, possibly first edition from Frederick Fell, Inc.
Lillian Roth
I'll Cry Tomorrow
Original and purchase price unknown
Worn and stained hardcover
C+
This is another of my depressing books from 1954, although it does have a happier ending than the two novels. (And much of MAD and Pogo now that I think of it.) Roth tells of her descent from fame to poverty, due to alcoholism, low self-esteem, and a gift for marrying a series of Mr. Wrongs. The book is sometimes horrifying, especially during her abusive third marriage. Eventually, Lillian joined the AA and married her sponsor. Her life improved and she at last made a successful comeback as a singer, after long years of struggle. Her autobiography was immediately made into a Susan Hayward movie, which I've never seen.
And then in 1963 that last husband left her, withdrawing all the money from their joint bank account. She fell off the wagon the following year, and died in relative obscurity in 1980. Sad, but at least she helped to make the AA better known and more accepted.
I originally got this book because I found her adorable as the cheeky ingenue in Animal Crackers (1930). She does write about working with the Marx Brothers, including how hard it was not to laugh at Groucho's delivery, but most of her stories are less enjoyable, although even in her darkest hours she kept her puckish sense of humor. I also liked how for her time she was fairly tolerant of homosexuals, and I smiled at her description of women in tweed as "chorus boys in reverse."
I'll let her have the last word, from her gravestone marker: "As bad as it was it was good."
Lillian Roth
I'll Cry Tomorrow
Original and purchase price unknown
Worn and stained hardcover
C+
This is another of my depressing books from 1954, although it does have a happier ending than the two novels. (And much of MAD and Pogo now that I think of it.) Roth tells of her descent from fame to poverty, due to alcoholism, low self-esteem, and a gift for marrying a series of Mr. Wrongs. The book is sometimes horrifying, especially during her abusive third marriage. Eventually, Lillian joined the AA and married her sponsor. Her life improved and she at last made a successful comeback as a singer, after long years of struggle. Her autobiography was immediately made into a Susan Hayward movie, which I've never seen.
And then in 1963 that last husband left her, withdrawing all the money from their joint bank account. She fell off the wagon the following year, and died in relative obscurity in 1980. Sad, but at least she helped to make the AA better known and more accepted.
I originally got this book because I found her adorable as the cheeky ingenue in Animal Crackers (1930). She does write about working with the Marx Brothers, including how hard it was not to laugh at Groucho's delivery, but most of her stories are less enjoyable, although even in her darkest hours she kept her puckish sense of humor. I also liked how for her time she was fairly tolerant of homosexuals, and I smiled at her description of women in tweed as "chorus boys in reverse."
I'll let her have the last word, from her gravestone marker: "As bad as it was it was good."
Sunday, June 10, 2012
The Group
1954, 1964 New American Library edition
Mary McCarthy
The Group
Original price unknown, purchase price 25 cents
Very worn paperback
C+
Despite the title, this novel does not focus equal attention on the eight friends, all Vassar '33, who form The Group. It begins with Kay's wedding, soon after graduation, and ends seven years later, at her burial. Her husband Harald is a complete jerk-- pretentious, lazy, and adulterous-- who eventually has her institutionalized after beating her.
But then none of the marriages in the book seem happy, except for Polly and Jim. Polly and her parents were my favorite characters, although I also liked Helena. While the book is somewhat well-written, I can't say I enjoyed the majority of it, since it was mostly about unlikable people having bad things happen to them, but not in a fun way. (Believe me, Schadenfreude can be amusing, even with fiction.)
As in A Proper Marriage, I got most depressed by the regimentation of infancy, the babies being fed on a schedule and left to cry the rest of the time. I've never had kids but I can't see who it benefited to raise them this way. I know that this book (like Lessing's novel) is about a pre-Dr.-Spock time, but if a baby was making itself, its mother, and the nurses miserable (the doctors never seem to mind in these novels), what was the point? Perhaps it's good that McCarthy and Lessing pointed this out, looking back 15 to 20 years, but I don't want to read about it. It's an abuse of my empathy as a reader.
As for the rest of the Group, they are (in descending order of how much attention they get from the author):
2. Dottie (whose one-night stand makes her buy contraception, as he misleads her into thinking they'll have an ongoing fling)
3. Priss (the unhappy wife of a pediatrician, which is why I brought up the regimentation of infancy)
4. Libby (as pretentious and self-centered as Harald)
5. Polly (sweet and fairly intelligent, even about romance)
6. Helena (definitely not enough of her and her wit)
7. Pokey (I know much more about the family butler than about her)
8. Lakey (who disappears for most of the book, even though as a Lesbian [always capitalized] living in Italy, she has the most interesting life)
Another similarity to A Proper Marriage is that there are references to politics, but the characters don't really do much to try to change society. (I haven't mentioned Martha's dabbling in Communism because honestly it's typical of the rest of her passivity and you could hardly call her an "activist.")
The Group was made into a movie after this edition came out, in 1966. I've never seen it but I'm mildly curious about it, since it has Candice Bergen (as Lakey oddly enough) and Larry Hagman (appropriately playing despicable charmer Harald, although this was years before J.R. and he was still on I Dream of Jeannie).
Mary McCarthy
The Group
Original price unknown, purchase price 25 cents
Very worn paperback
C+
Despite the title, this novel does not focus equal attention on the eight friends, all Vassar '33, who form The Group. It begins with Kay's wedding, soon after graduation, and ends seven years later, at her burial. Her husband Harald is a complete jerk-- pretentious, lazy, and adulterous-- who eventually has her institutionalized after beating her.
But then none of the marriages in the book seem happy, except for Polly and Jim. Polly and her parents were my favorite characters, although I also liked Helena. While the book is somewhat well-written, I can't say I enjoyed the majority of it, since it was mostly about unlikable people having bad things happen to them, but not in a fun way. (Believe me, Schadenfreude can be amusing, even with fiction.)
As in A Proper Marriage, I got most depressed by the regimentation of infancy, the babies being fed on a schedule and left to cry the rest of the time. I've never had kids but I can't see who it benefited to raise them this way. I know that this book (like Lessing's novel) is about a pre-Dr.-Spock time, but if a baby was making itself, its mother, and the nurses miserable (the doctors never seem to mind in these novels), what was the point? Perhaps it's good that McCarthy and Lessing pointed this out, looking back 15 to 20 years, but I don't want to read about it. It's an abuse of my empathy as a reader.
As for the rest of the Group, they are (in descending order of how much attention they get from the author):
2. Dottie (whose one-night stand makes her buy contraception, as he misleads her into thinking they'll have an ongoing fling)
3. Priss (the unhappy wife of a pediatrician, which is why I brought up the regimentation of infancy)
4. Libby (as pretentious and self-centered as Harald)
5. Polly (sweet and fairly intelligent, even about romance)
6. Helena (definitely not enough of her and her wit)
7. Pokey (I know much more about the family butler than about her)
8. Lakey (who disappears for most of the book, even though as a Lesbian [always capitalized] living in Italy, she has the most interesting life)
Another similarity to A Proper Marriage is that there are references to politics, but the characters don't really do much to try to change society. (I haven't mentioned Martha's dabbling in Communism because honestly it's typical of the rest of her passivity and you could hardly call her an "activist.")
The Group was made into a movie after this edition came out, in 1966. I've never seen it but I'm mildly curious about it, since it has Candice Bergen (as Lakey oddly enough) and Larry Hagman (appropriately playing despicable charmer Harald, although this was years before J.R. and he was still on I Dream of Jeannie).
Friday, June 8, 2012
The MAD Reader
1954, 1973 Ballantine edition
The MAD Reader
Original price 75 cents, purchase price 65 cents
Very worn paperback
B-
I grew up reading MAD Magazine, including reprints of issues from the 1950s and '60s. But I will freely admit that the funniest thing in this collection is the "vital message from Roger Price." The creator of "Droodles" (which we'll get to in the '60s, for reasons I'll explain then) and co-creator of Mad Libs (no relation to MAD Magazine) was one of the funniest post-WWII writers, and he contributed a bit to MAD in the mid-'50s. (If I remember correctly, the hilarious satire of bull-fighting, about the "sport" of dog-kicking, was his.)
The rest of the writing here is mostly by the over-rated Harvey Kurtzman. I've always maintained that MAD did a pmuj (reverse shark-jump) when he left and they got "The Usual Gang of Idiots." The best thing about the comic book days is the artwork, but reproduced smaller and in black and white it definitely loses something, particularly the detailed illustrations by Bill Elder. (I've got late '80s color reprints of the earliest comics, so we'll revisit this much later.)
Still, there's enough here to enjoy in this early "best of," including the satires Dragged Net! ("Dom Badomm Dom!"), Gasoline Valley! (funnier than ever since the characters are still aging six decades later, although "Alexander Bumpstead" no longer does), and of course Starchie (no exclamation point). The last of these remains one of the best things ever in MAD, and I say that as someone who also grew up reading Archie comics. Everything in this satire is "typical teen-age" something, they make fun of the jagged-line in phone conversations, there's gratuitous nudity (of "Wedgie"), gratuitous drug humor, and a not at all gratuitous question: Why does Starchie prefer Salonica to Biddy?
At the time of these early MADs, comics were coming under fire, the "media that's corrupting our children" of that era (compare rap music or violent video games in the '90s). It was mostly comic magazines that were targeted, although Walt Kelly faced some censorship in the newspapers. E.C. (publisher Gaines's "Educational Comics") got into more trouble over its horror comics, but MAD was also controversial. One of the better Jack-Davis-drawn stories is Newspapers!, pointing out the hypocrisy of grown-ups being horrified by comic books when there were equal outrages in their reading material.
The best of the Wally-Wood-illustrated stories is Flesh Garden!, which is not all that different from the title of the 1974 porno satire, Flesh Gordon. (No, I've never seen it.)
The MAD Reader
Original price 75 cents, purchase price 65 cents
Very worn paperback
B-
I grew up reading MAD Magazine, including reprints of issues from the 1950s and '60s. But I will freely admit that the funniest thing in this collection is the "vital message from Roger Price." The creator of "Droodles" (which we'll get to in the '60s, for reasons I'll explain then) and co-creator of Mad Libs (no relation to MAD Magazine) was one of the funniest post-WWII writers, and he contributed a bit to MAD in the mid-'50s. (If I remember correctly, the hilarious satire of bull-fighting, about the "sport" of dog-kicking, was his.)
The rest of the writing here is mostly by the over-rated Harvey Kurtzman. I've always maintained that MAD did a pmuj (reverse shark-jump) when he left and they got "The Usual Gang of Idiots." The best thing about the comic book days is the artwork, but reproduced smaller and in black and white it definitely loses something, particularly the detailed illustrations by Bill Elder. (I've got late '80s color reprints of the earliest comics, so we'll revisit this much later.)
Still, there's enough here to enjoy in this early "best of," including the satires Dragged Net! ("Dom Badomm Dom!"), Gasoline Valley! (funnier than ever since the characters are still aging six decades later, although "Alexander Bumpstead" no longer does), and of course Starchie (no exclamation point). The last of these remains one of the best things ever in MAD, and I say that as someone who also grew up reading Archie comics. Everything in this satire is "typical teen-age" something, they make fun of the jagged-line in phone conversations, there's gratuitous nudity (of "Wedgie"), gratuitous drug humor, and a not at all gratuitous question: Why does Starchie prefer Salonica to Biddy?
At the time of these early MADs, comics were coming under fire, the "media that's corrupting our children" of that era (compare rap music or violent video games in the '90s). It was mostly comic magazines that were targeted, although Walt Kelly faced some censorship in the newspapers. E.C. (publisher Gaines's "Educational Comics") got into more trouble over its horror comics, but MAD was also controversial. One of the better Jack-Davis-drawn stories is Newspapers!, pointing out the hypocrisy of grown-ups being horrified by comic books when there were equal outrages in their reading material.
The best of the Wally-Wood-illustrated stories is Flesh Garden!, which is not all that different from the title of the 1974 porno satire, Flesh Gordon. (No, I've never seen it.)
A Proper Marriage
1954, 1966 New American Library edition
Doris Lessing
A Proper Marriage
Original price unknown, purchase price $1.95
Falling apart paperback
C+
So I was on the bus yesterday and the young man sitting behind me tapped my shoulder and asked if this was a good book. I said it was pretty good. He said he wondered because he noticed how worn it was and thought it must be good. I said, "Well, it's from the '60s." (I didn't want to explain about editions vs. copyrights.) He asked what it's about. I said it's about an unhappily married woman during World War II, and it's sort of depressing.
I don't know that it's any more depressing than Martha Quest, although the view of marriage, love, and now motherhood remains bleak. The reason for the lower score is that at some point Lessing gets fed up with passive Martha (understandable), and starts using the perspectives of other people, who turn out to be even more pathetic than Martha. Our "heroine" gets pregnant on accident, considers an abortion but is too drifty to decide (of course), has the baby under heart-breaking but I suppose once standard circumstances (that is, a strict "nursing home" that has the babies cry for hours while the mothers' breasts leak milk), raises her by the book (even though Martha is supposed to be unconventional), drifts into an almost-affair, and eventually drifts into separating from her husband. By this point, the few people who understand that Martha is unhappy, such as her father and the too-awesome-for-this-series Jasmine Cohen, wonder what's taking her so long.
If this was what Lessing was like in her youth, I wonder how she ever got her act together enough to be the successful novelist she became. Or did she just drift into publishing?
I will admit that Martha is a victim of society blah blah, and it is interesting to see how bad women had it in the 1940s (and '50s), but that doesn't mean it's worth reading. I told the stranger it was "pretty good," because there are moments that it is, and who wants to bad-mouth a book in person? That's what the Internet is for.
Doris Lessing
A Proper Marriage
Original price unknown, purchase price $1.95
Falling apart paperback
C+
So I was on the bus yesterday and the young man sitting behind me tapped my shoulder and asked if this was a good book. I said it was pretty good. He said he wondered because he noticed how worn it was and thought it must be good. I said, "Well, it's from the '60s." (I didn't want to explain about editions vs. copyrights.) He asked what it's about. I said it's about an unhappily married woman during World War II, and it's sort of depressing.
I don't know that it's any more depressing than Martha Quest, although the view of marriage, love, and now motherhood remains bleak. The reason for the lower score is that at some point Lessing gets fed up with passive Martha (understandable), and starts using the perspectives of other people, who turn out to be even more pathetic than Martha. Our "heroine" gets pregnant on accident, considers an abortion but is too drifty to decide (of course), has the baby under heart-breaking but I suppose once standard circumstances (that is, a strict "nursing home" that has the babies cry for hours while the mothers' breasts leak milk), raises her by the book (even though Martha is supposed to be unconventional), drifts into an almost-affair, and eventually drifts into separating from her husband. By this point, the few people who understand that Martha is unhappy, such as her father and the too-awesome-for-this-series Jasmine Cohen, wonder what's taking her so long.
If this was what Lessing was like in her youth, I wonder how she ever got her act together enough to be the successful novelist she became. Or did she just drift into publishing?
I will admit that Martha is a victim of society blah blah, and it is interesting to see how bad women had it in the 1940s (and '50s), but that doesn't mean it's worth reading. I told the stranger it was "pretty good," because there are moments that it is, and who wants to bad-mouth a book in person? That's what the Internet is for.
The Incompleat Pogo
1954, 1975 Simon and Schuster edition with Pogo: Prisoner of Love, under the joint title Pogo: Romances Recaptured
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
The Incompleat Pogo
Bought newish for $6.95
Very worn paperback
B
This collection of 1953 newspaper comics is full of topical references, some of which haven't aged well, but it's still fun to see a chicken under McCarthyite suspicion for being a Rhode Island Red. Although she's wooed by the deacon, there's not all that much romance here, and the "incompleat" title feels more fitting, since this was fairly early on in the collected editions (sixth, with Pogo [1951] as the first), with many more to come. Due to the daily nature of comic strips, the "story" is very episodic, with arcs coming along and either resolving (as when Pupdog turns out to have been packed in Albert's suitcase) or fizzling out. Kelly enjoys playing with words, not just puns but dialect, and even typography. His justly famous version of "Deck Us All (with Boston Charlie)" appears, if not for the first time, at least for one of the earliest times.
I prefer Kelly's later, lighter art style, with thinner lines and more impressive scenery. (Prehysterical Pogo [in Pandemonia] was my favorite as a child.) But I will say that there some priceless expressions on these very emotional animals' faces. I want to give the cowbirds, with their cute little berets and turtlenecks, a hug, even when they're stirring up trouble, like accusing the aforementioned chicken.
Written and illustrated by Walt Kelly
The Incompleat Pogo
Bought newish for $6.95
Very worn paperback
B
This collection of 1953 newspaper comics is full of topical references, some of which haven't aged well, but it's still fun to see a chicken under McCarthyite suspicion for being a Rhode Island Red. Although she's wooed by the deacon, there's not all that much romance here, and the "incompleat" title feels more fitting, since this was fairly early on in the collected editions (sixth, with Pogo [1951] as the first), with many more to come. Due to the daily nature of comic strips, the "story" is very episodic, with arcs coming along and either resolving (as when Pupdog turns out to have been packed in Albert's suitcase) or fizzling out. Kelly enjoys playing with words, not just puns but dialect, and even typography. His justly famous version of "Deck Us All (with Boston Charlie)" appears, if not for the first time, at least for one of the earliest times.
I prefer Kelly's later, lighter art style, with thinner lines and more impressive scenery. (Prehysterical Pogo [in Pandemonia] was my favorite as a child.) But I will say that there some priceless expressions on these very emotional animals' faces. I want to give the cowbirds, with their cute little berets and turtlenecks, a hug, even when they're stirring up trouble, like accusing the aforementioned chicken.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
The Return of Jeeves
1953
P. G. Wodehouse
The Return of Jeeves
C-
Don't let the title get your hopes up. Yes, Jeeves returns, but he's working for someone else while Bertie is off getting post-war lessons on taking care of himself, like ironing. Jeeves's new employer has no patience with Jeeves's literary quotes, or much other appreciation of him. Again, we get staleness, typos, and warped romance. (This time, "I'll steal a pendant from the woman I gave it to years ago, even though she thinks it's from one of her late husbands, so I can use it to bet on a race, and then you can marry your girl, who is suspicious of you sneaking out of my woman's room in your pyjamas.") No mention of Hollywood though.
P. G. Wodehouse
The Return of Jeeves
C-
Don't let the title get your hopes up. Yes, Jeeves returns, but he's working for someone else while Bertie is off getting post-war lessons on taking care of himself, like ironing. Jeeves's new employer has no patience with Jeeves's literary quotes, or much other appreciation of him. Again, we get staleness, typos, and warped romance. (This time, "I'll steal a pendant from the woman I gave it to years ago, even though she thinks it's from one of her late husbands, so I can use it to bet on a race, and then you can marry your girl, who is suspicious of you sneaking out of my woman's room in your pyjamas.") No mention of Hollywood though.
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