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Also this issue: Take This Job and Shove It Rebel May Care Follow My Lead Memoirs |
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June 26-July 2, 2003
cover story
By Blake Bailey Picador USA, 688 pp., $30
A lot of those fancypants writing programs require would-be authors to read biographies of their favorite writers. The idea is for students to see that even the greats had money worries, stomach ailments and socially transmitted diseases. Who would've guessed that James Joyce was once just another punk like the rest of us? Assigning this welcome bio of Richard Yates to a graduate seminar would be a fantastic way of thinning the herd by steering any number of aspirants out of the literature biz and into the wilds of chartered accountancy or the food service industry. The author of Revolutionary Road and The Easter Parade, among other titles, was one sorry hombre, evidence that making it as a writer requires a whole lot more than the ability to write. Yates was once considered on a literary par with William Styron and John Updike (as if that were a compliment!) but died broke, pissed off at the world and almost entirely forgotten. Thus the "tragedy" of the title. But recently a new generation has discovered Yates' oeuvre of novels and short fiction, which includes a few genuine masterpieces. His best work deals with unfulfilled ambition and the disappointment that often follows the sense of entitlement. Bailey deftly explicates the way Yates' personal battles (with alcohol, wives, other authors -- you name it) inspired his fiction, and vice versa. The lesson that comes from reading A Tragic Honesty, however, isn't that you should read Yates. If you've picked up this sad bio, you've probably already done so. Instead, it reminds us of the need to support those living authors whose work moves you in some way but who don't get the public recognition they deserve. When you're finished with Bailey's book, go buy one by Eric Kraft, Nathaniel Tarn, Elizabeth Searle, Bei Dao or Charles Portis. –Andrew Ervin
By "Classy" Freddie Blassie (with Keith Elliot Greenberg) Pocket Star, 320 pp., $26
Freddie Blassie was the type of guy who loved it when you screamed "Asshole!" his way. Getting heat from people -- the bigger crowds, the better -- was, after all, his job; Blassie, who passed away earlier this month, was one of the most notorious heels in wrestling. He egged on fans, bit his opponents and filed his teeth during pre-match interviews. (Andy Kaufman fans might remember him as the headliner of Kaufman's 1983 film My Breakfast with Blassie.) Listen, You Pencil-Neck Geeks bawdily and brazenly chronicles Blassie's rise from the poorest parts of St. Louis to the top of the wrestling world, where he engaged in trans-Pacific feuds, bled through his shock of blonde hair, sidekicked for Regis Philbin and, to hear him tell it, satisfied female fans in every town he visited. In an era when The Rock has VH1 specials about his rise to the top and Suburban Commando is in perpetual syndication, it's almost mind-boggling to imagine just how much charisma Blassie had to have in order for his fame to transcend the wrestling ring; after all, in those years B.C. (Before Cable), wrestling did not occupy even a fraction of the pop culture space it does now. Listen is an enjoyable read, one that could easily be consumed on the beach (it's a few degrees less scandalous, and much less drug laden than the 2001 Mötley Crüe classic The Dirt). The only downfall comes in the book's translation from interviews to print: At times, the hand of Blassie's ghostwriter -- and especially the asides from other luminaries and lesser lights of wrestling past and present -- weighs a bit too heavily on the proceedings. –Maura Johnston
By Cecil Brown Harvard University Press, 296 pp., $29.95 
Jim Croce's Leroy Brown may have been badder than old King Kong, but he was a milquetoast compared to the legendary Stagolee. Truth be told, there really was a dude named "Stack" (a.k.a. "Stag") Lee Shelton, a mack-of-all-trades who gallivanted through the vice-ridden, red-light districts of St. Louis during the late 19th century; besides his steady pimp trade, he was also a carriage driver, proprietor of two clubs and, generally speaking, one truly bad motherfucker. Proof positive came on a fateful night in 1895, when Shelton shot a man named Billy Lyons in cold blood at a bar because Lyons had the temerity to grab Shelton's Stetson hat off his head and refused to give it back. As Lyons lay dying, Shelton retrieved the hat and coolly left the premises.
This polarizing transgression serves as the focal point for Cecil Brown's exhaustively researched and consistently engaging Stagolee Shot Billy, a tireless examination of one of history's most notorious perpetrators and enduring African-American folklore figures. Brown, a visiting scholar at the University of California at Berkeley, proficiently deconstructs the Stagolee myth from the factual Lee. Shelton chronicles and deftly presents the wealth of historical resources at his disposal (including both Shelton's and Lyons' actual death certificates, contained within the book's pages) to illustrate the various political/social/cultural contexts that were relevant to the Stagolee ballad's continuous vibrancy and how its vestiges are found within the gangsta rap of today, not to mention the myriad of interpretations of Stagolee within the realm of 20th-century popular music, from Ma Rainey and Lloyd Price to Bob Dylan and The Clash, among many others. Brown's style is remarkably lucid, flawlessly documented and conveys the uncurbed enthusiasm he has for his subject. –Frank Halperin
By Arthur Kempton Knopf, 496 pp., $27.50 
"The prospect of selling more than twice as many copies of the same record to whites as blacks is why 'crossing over' has always been the holy grail for makers and sellers of boogaloo."
Arthur Kempton's succinct, bottom-line assessment grounds his winding history of black popular music in the United States, and underlies his argument that black music is the "quintessence" of popular music. From Thomas A. Dorsey and Mahalia Jackson to The Temptations and Dr. Dre, the book gallops through a century of music and culture, making broad assertions and skipping from anecdote to character sketch to speculation. With sinewy rhythms more resembling poetry than standard historian's prose, Kempton makes a series of impressionistic cases, connecting sociopolitical (and always financial) dots among a few emblematic Aframerican artists (Kempton's preferred term), charting their dogged and often ingenious efforts to push their way into the mainstream. Sections focus on a range of topics: Sam Cooke's "pilgrimage" and violent end (referring briefly to James Brown and Curtis Mayfield); Berry Gordy's "climb" (including his contests with Stax, movie ventures and fondness for Doris Day, Motown 25, Diana Ross and corporate meltdowns); and George Clinton en route to Russell Simmons, Tupac, Suge Knight and Snoop (here called "ferret-faced Calvin Broadus").While the book is surely about music (Kempton is a former radio DJ and lovingly recounts the lore and resonance of his subject), it is more a broad-ranging cultural history than a look at music or even the music industry per se, framing artistic innovations and business gambles with crucial events: the intertwined evolutions of the civil rights movement and television; the increasing concentration on youth markets; the cultural relations between Otis Redding and Isaac Hayes, or Diana Ross and Marvin Gaye; the influence of drugs and malt liquor on urban neighborhoods; the move from street hustling to "sneaker wars" and hip-hop fashions targeting voracious, self-seeking teens. "Because the prevailing culture acts upon them most directly," observes Kempton, "these youngsters are its pure products. Many now resonate like tuning forks to changes of pitch in the culture of acquisition." The book's approach to its many subjects is proudly idiosyncratic and mostly fascinating. –Cindy Fuchs
By Joe Queenan Henry Holt, 236 pp., $23
The life of a Philadelphia sports fan is not easy. Oh sure, we have superstars like McNabb and Iverson, but while games may be more fun to watch while they're playing, they tend to frustrate us further. Despite dynamic presences, the last time the Eagles won it all was 1960; the Sixers won the NBA Finals last in 1983; the Flyers got the Cup in 1976; and the Phillies won the Series in 1980. Is it William Penn's curse? Fear of success on the part of every professional athlete in this city? Perhaps we'll never know. We may be able to ascertain, however, why we keep torturing ourselves by sticking with these teams through thick and (mostly) thin; Joe Queenan attempts this in his latest autobiographical romp, an in-depth examination of what is usually the agony but sometimes the ecstasy of being a fan. Queenan understands that there are "well-balanced, even-tempered individual[s] who subscribe to the dictum It's only a game,'" then illustrates the reasons this has not been possible for him throughout his life as a Philadelphia fan. Queenan grew up here, attended St. Joe's University and has been generally heartbroken by the performance of his teams for most of his life. While the book is a hilarious how-to-cope guide for fans from any city cursed with disappointing teams, it'll hit particularly close to home for us. During the 2001 Finals, the author prayed in Christ Church "that Allen Iverson would score 50" in game three against the Lakers. In 2000, after "the Flyers completed their shameful collapse against the New Jersey Devils" in the semifinals, Queenan took all of his Philadelphia sports "regalia" to the Salvation Army, vowing to quit sports cold turkey. He failed. What he finally understands is that "being a real fan is the stuff of life itself. It is the ongoing quest for the municipal Holy Grail. It is the honest belief that today will be better than yesterday and tomorrow even better than that." Following a team and all its trappings is what "moor[s] me to my youth, my family, my friends, and the city of my birth." Tough luck, Philadelphia sports fans; there's no escape, so you might as well laugh about it. –Nancy Armstrong
By Mary Roach W.W. Norton & Co., 303 pp., $23.95 
Mary Roach opens Stiff with a description of the human head -- or rather, 40 human heads, severed at the jawline, set in roasting pans in a lavender conference room ("it's a soothing color") for a plastic surgery practice seminar. From one angle, all she can see are stubbled heads, like "rows of old men reclining in barber chairs;" from the opposite angle, only rough stumps show.
This opening vignette indicates pretty clearly the course Roach takes throughout Stiff. Her book is a mixture of odd location, train-wreck gruesomeness, irreverent humor and dead people. She covers a surprising amount of ground, ranging from the obvious applications of surgical instruction and medical research to more unlikely uses of cadavers. She details the history of cadaver use (including ancient practices of vivisection and Enlightenment cases of grave robbery and murder for anatomical research), examines the use of corpses in developing automotive restraints and air bags, and recounts her discussion with Dennis Shanahan, who reconstructs aviation disasters from human remains. She also goes into the cadaver's role in weapons testing -- apparently researchers tend only to use parts, and only then when they can't substitute "ballistic gelatin," which is much like your childhood dessert but without the food coloring; her most stomach-turning chapter explains the work done at the University of Tennessee Anthropological Research Facility, known locally as the "body farm," where forensic scientists supervise controlled decay of corpses on the grounds.
Roach's research is obviously thorough, and she does an impressive job visiting fascinating work sites and getting her (living) subjects to open up to her, especially given the sensitive nature of her questions. It's a surprisingly funny book, too, given the discomfort that laughing at the dead can bring, and Roach can be excused the single flaw of constantly foregrounding herself and her reactions. She's clear and knowledgeable, and given the fascination her subject generates -- the same kind of fascination that bottles up highways after crashes -- Stiff makes for a quick and compelling, if slightly uneasy, read. –Justin Bauer
"My mother died praying on her knees. She left me no note said no good-byes, gave me no last hugs or kisses. Only the empty bottle of sleeping pills proved that she'd meant to leave."
National Book Award-winner Kimberly Willis Holt sets her powerful story in Guam, where teenager Isabel confronts suicide. Her mother is dead; her fisherman father comes and goes in a daze; her little sister wets the bed every night; and her brother carves "I hate you" on his bedroom wall. This is no sappy self-help saga. Nothing poor-little-me about Isabel. Big sister goes to school, cooks meals, manages the family store and even finds humor with her girlfriends, one of whom owns fierce fighting cocks. Finally, Isabel learns to confront and cope with her past. Parents, relatives and friends of teens could buy no better book.
By Julie Aigner-Clark Illustrated by Nadeem Zaidi Hyperion, $9.99, ages 4-6
This book is a scam. So are others under the "Baby Einstein" title, which hoodwinks ignorant parents (poor saps) into thinking they can develop their babies into little Einsteins. The Master Pieces book, with its large pictures of works by Seurat, Sargent and others, might be OK for ages 4-6, but for toddlers? Come off it!
Written and illustrated by Rebecca Bond Little, Brown, $15.95, ages 4-7 
Have you ever been the new kid on the block? Marcus was. When the little boy moved to a new street, he said, "I'm here," but there was no one there. However, after the moving van arrives, along comes a new pal, Katherine Brown. She goes skipping by, and stays to play among the packing cartons. She becomes a real pal. Moral: Making a friend banishes loneliness.
Written and illustrated by Lane Smith Viking, $16.99, all ages
Too often romanticized, Mother Nature is nasty, the Hocky family discovers. Vicious squirrels attack their bird feeder. The bouquets they pick turn out to be itchy poison ivy. And "here is the bunny with the big belly" -- the one who ate Mrs. Hocky's garden. When it snows, they have a new game: find the driveway. The acclaimed illustrator of The Stinky Cheese Man is back with another ironic/funny tale. Nice summer reading.Written and photographed by George Ancona Harcourt Brace, $18, ages 9-12 
José lives in San Francisco's Mission District, named for Mission Delores, the oldest building in SF, completed in 1791. Residents, many from Mexico, call the area the neighborhood, or el barrio.
The acclaimed photographer George Ancona, with his magic camera, follows the little boy through rich celebrations: Carnaval with a float shaped like a giant bird, "a symbol of freedom because birds recognize no borders." And the Day of the Dead, with sugar skulls to eat. And his birthday party, with a candy-filled piñatas dangling above the heads of the blindfolded children. Harcourt Brace deserves praise for making this story available in a Spanish-language paperback version.
Written and illustrated by Ashley Wolff Little, Brown, $5.95, ages 2-4
The melody is changed somewhat, and some of the words are different. It's a little bit workbookish ("Can you find these colors?"), but the charm of this lilting, heartbreaking folksong remains. "Oh, the colors. The colors that bloom in the springtime."
By Lisa Westberg Peters Illustrated by Lauren Stringer Harcourt Brace, $17, ages 4-8
"All of us are part of an old, old family." So begins this splendid coffee-table-size book, an introduction to the scientific concept of evolution of the species. This gentle but powerful album of life on Earth brims with color pictures of our earliest relatives -- "tiny round cells in the deep, dark sea" and, pages later, "primates and modern humans." It's smart to publish this particular book in 2003, as it marks the 121st anniversary of the death of British scientist Charles Darwin, whose On the Origin of the Species set forth the basic principles of evolution. The author has worked with credentialed elementary- and secondary-school teachers to create lesson plans based on this book, downloadable free from Peters' website, www.lisawestbergpeters.com.
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