I keep promising myself that I won't get all fired up about sports any more. Yesterday Eileen and I took in the last of the Nats three-game series against the Orioles at Nationals Park and the locals came up with a whizbang 8-5 victory, featuring Adam Dunn's grand slam homer in the bottom of the 7th. Right then it started raining--not enough for them to call the game but for my better half to move me out of the ball park.
Euphoria invariably inspires hubris and you know what that leads to--has, at least, since the days of the Greeks. So last weekend Albert and I went to Tommy Joe's bar in Bethesda to catch the Cornell-Princeton NCAA lacrosse quarter-final, it being broadcast on ESPN-U and not many sets on any cable system get that. The Big Red started on a roll and ended up thrashing the Tigers and thus made their way into the Final Four at Foxboro this weekend. They were clearly the crashers at the party--Virginia was #1, Syracuse #2, Duke #3, and Princeton #4 in the seedings.
So on Saturday the Red went out and did the unthinkable--they demolished the high and mighty Cavaliers, 15-6. Today, Memorial Day, comes the final, against old local adversary Syracuse, and with 4 minutes left, the Red is up by 3. Right, they let Bill Orange tie it on a misplay with four seconsd left and then lost in the sudden-death. They had run out of steam, literally.
How can I take this seriously? Vicarious living through athletics--ridiculous. I got such a kick out of the Harvard-Yale movie of the '68 Game. Don't ever try to show me a flick of this one. It's not even like losing an election. And to rank this with Greek tragedy? Come on.
But Saturday night we saw Noel Coward's Design for Living at the Lansburgh and it was a magnificent performance. It was Noel at his sparkliest and the height of his daring--he presents three people in love with each other, two guys--the playwright (guess who that was) and the painter, and the girl--an interior decorator, of all things. He produced it in New York because the Lord Chamberlain would have rung down the curtain in London's West End. There of course are major hints at gayness but the immorality that would have kept it from the stage in England was the love triangle of two men each sleeping with the same woman. And no Hays office-Production Code nonsense of them being punished for it either. Coward wrote it for him to play one of the leads with the Lunts, and so he and they did, to rousing success. He had promised to write something when all three of them had achieved the success that they (and the characters in the play) yearned for. The Shakespeare Theatre cast directed by Michael Kahn was superb--I never saw Alfred and Lynn onstage, only twice on 50s television, but this crew was up to the mark.
It's interesting that the Lunts were often criticized for spending their time playing light stuff, but if this was an example, it falls short of the mark because Coward was out to make a point and he succeeded. It's not just sparkles and fluff. And in reality, the Lunts too went out with a bang--their last appearance on Broadway was in the U.S. premiere of that rather grim bit of non-fluff, Freidrich Durrenmatt's The Visit.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Red
I've just finished reading a delightful new book, Red and Me, by Celtic great Bill Russell about his friendship with longtime Celtics coach, general manager, president and overall factotum Red Auerbach, who died about two years ago at 89. Russ (to use the nickname Red used as well as the one that famous Celtic broadcaster Johnny Most also favored) was always regarded as his own man and not in any way an easy man to know or become a friend of. He and Red revolutionized basketball by emphasizing defense--he points out in the book that until he came along, no one even kept statistics on some of the defensive plays he made common even when he didn't actually originate them.
This book should be read in tandem with John Feinstein's equally wonderful Let Me Tell You a Story, in which Feinstein manages to overcome early hostility to become a friend of Red's and to enjoy the endless fount of great stories Auerbach would relate, especially to his luncheon companions at China Doll in Washington DC's diminutive Chinatown (the restaurant was demolished last year).
It all seems so simple from Russell's account, and yet, their joint achievement (despite the presence of such notables as Bob Cousy, Bill Sharman, and Easy Ed Macauley, the Celts never won a title prior to Russell's arrival) was phenomenal and remains so--eight straight titles under Red's coaching and then two more under Russell. Mainly, what the book demonstrates is how far ahead of other coaches and players, Auerbach--and Russell, for that matter--was. It's also hysterically funny in many spots.
* * *
The surprise long-shot Derby winner brought up many forebears in that category but no one seems yet to have recalled Jimmy Cannon's favorite winner, Count Turf in the '51 outing. He was owned by Jack Amiel of the long-gone Turf Restaurant on Broadway, a gaudier version of Lindy's--complete with its own famed cheesecake--alas, Lindy's is also gone but the name still is attached to various pretenders. No one picked Count Turf to do anything and Cannon noted that if the horse had been a person instead of a horse, he might have been picked up outside the restaurant for vagrancy like many of the Broadway types who hung out there. The trainer hadn't had a winner in ages, and Conn McCreary, the jockey, was regarded as washed up.
Tonight I listened to the Orioles' "closer" give up 5 runs in the top of the 9th, so that even with two homers and four runs in the bottom, the O's came up short...Nats thrown out of Bay Area by otherwise unimpressive Jints...and saddest of all, el foldo by Das Capitals in the 7th game at Verizon Center. Now, the Big Red needs to upset the Princeton Tiger in the NCAA lacrosse quarterfinals at Hofstra Saturday.
Two unusual musicals opened in Washington in the last few months. One is on Broadway now and has been successful, Next to Normal, with the unusual theme, for a musical anyway, of a woman with bipolar syndrome. The other just opened here at Signature--a musical rendition of Giant, famous as a 50s movie starring Rock Hudson, Liz Taylor, and, most notably, James Dean, based on Edna Ferber's Texas-sized novel.
This book should be read in tandem with John Feinstein's equally wonderful Let Me Tell You a Story, in which Feinstein manages to overcome early hostility to become a friend of Red's and to enjoy the endless fount of great stories Auerbach would relate, especially to his luncheon companions at China Doll in Washington DC's diminutive Chinatown (the restaurant was demolished last year).
It all seems so simple from Russell's account, and yet, their joint achievement (despite the presence of such notables as Bob Cousy, Bill Sharman, and Easy Ed Macauley, the Celts never won a title prior to Russell's arrival) was phenomenal and remains so--eight straight titles under Red's coaching and then two more under Russell. Mainly, what the book demonstrates is how far ahead of other coaches and players, Auerbach--and Russell, for that matter--was. It's also hysterically funny in many spots.
* * *
The surprise long-shot Derby winner brought up many forebears in that category but no one seems yet to have recalled Jimmy Cannon's favorite winner, Count Turf in the '51 outing. He was owned by Jack Amiel of the long-gone Turf Restaurant on Broadway, a gaudier version of Lindy's--complete with its own famed cheesecake--alas, Lindy's is also gone but the name still is attached to various pretenders. No one picked Count Turf to do anything and Cannon noted that if the horse had been a person instead of a horse, he might have been picked up outside the restaurant for vagrancy like many of the Broadway types who hung out there. The trainer hadn't had a winner in ages, and Conn McCreary, the jockey, was regarded as washed up.
Tonight I listened to the Orioles' "closer" give up 5 runs in the top of the 9th, so that even with two homers and four runs in the bottom, the O's came up short...Nats thrown out of Bay Area by otherwise unimpressive Jints...and saddest of all, el foldo by Das Capitals in the 7th game at Verizon Center. Now, the Big Red needs to upset the Princeton Tiger in the NCAA lacrosse quarterfinals at Hofstra Saturday.
Two unusual musicals opened in Washington in the last few months. One is on Broadway now and has been successful, Next to Normal, with the unusual theme, for a musical anyway, of a woman with bipolar syndrome. The other just opened here at Signature--a musical rendition of Giant, famous as a 50s movie starring Rock Hudson, Liz Taylor, and, most notably, James Dean, based on Edna Ferber's Texas-sized novel.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Klein and Rhee on View at Local Panel
Last night, my daughter Vanessa and I heard the Chancellors of the New York City and District of Columbia school systems--Joel Klein and Michelle Rhee, respectively, discuss their work, their progress thus far in reforming their systems, and their ideas on education and school reform in general. The panel was sponsored by the Columbia and Cornell Clubs here, since Klein is a graduate of Columbia and Rhee of Cornell.
Klein was full of ideas, from the "school of one" to focusing all attention on the individual school as a unit, and held forth on the need to hold everyone in the system accountable for their impact on student success. Rhee tends to agree with Klein but emphasized the record of failure to be overcome in D.C., where superintendents tended to depart almost annually. She said she cannot claim to have succeeded yet and will not do so until grade levels for math and reading and test scores confirm improvement.
Much of the evening was devoted to questions for the two Chancellors. Although they both do not favor maintaining the tenure system for teachers, they emphasized the need to reward good teachers and principals, and to hold inadequate ones accountable. They also disclaimed opposing the unions and Klein referred to the late AFT President Albert Shanker's book on the need to upgrade school performance. Rhee stressed the need for system members--teachers and central office staff--to work harder to achieve reasonable goals, despite inadequate facilities that may not be improved as speedily as anyone would want.
Both have received a great deal of national attention and have probably solidified the view that mayoral control of schools (as opposed to an independently elected or appointed school board) is needed to bring substandard systems up to par. In D.C., Rhee has followed a sorry history of false starts and the few capable leaders have generally left for more favorable locales. It is to be hoped that she is not caught up in the growing conflict between the Mayor and the Council here, and that she recognizes the need for transparency, which has not always been the case during her first two years here.
Klein was full of ideas, from the "school of one" to focusing all attention on the individual school as a unit, and held forth on the need to hold everyone in the system accountable for their impact on student success. Rhee tends to agree with Klein but emphasized the record of failure to be overcome in D.C., where superintendents tended to depart almost annually. She said she cannot claim to have succeeded yet and will not do so until grade levels for math and reading and test scores confirm improvement.
Much of the evening was devoted to questions for the two Chancellors. Although they both do not favor maintaining the tenure system for teachers, they emphasized the need to reward good teachers and principals, and to hold inadequate ones accountable. They also disclaimed opposing the unions and Klein referred to the late AFT President Albert Shanker's book on the need to upgrade school performance. Rhee stressed the need for system members--teachers and central office staff--to work harder to achieve reasonable goals, despite inadequate facilities that may not be improved as speedily as anyone would want.
Both have received a great deal of national attention and have probably solidified the view that mayoral control of schools (as opposed to an independently elected or appointed school board) is needed to bring substandard systems up to par. In D.C., Rhee has followed a sorry history of false starts and the few capable leaders have generally left for more favorable locales. It is to be hoped that she is not caught up in the growing conflict between the Mayor and the Council here, and that she recognizes the need for transparency, which has not always been the case during her first two years here.
Monday, May 4, 2009
When I Met Justice Souter
The announced retirement of Supreme Court Justice David H. Souter made me recall when I met him, back when he was Deputy Attorney General of the State of New Hampshire and I was co-directing a justice system project there to develop criminal justice standards and goals. My colleague based in New Hampshire told me Souter was a natural to be a member of our state panel to review the proposed standards. Everyone in New Hampshire politics or law regarded him as incredibly bright.
They all also thought he was incredibly conservative. And during our meetings, his positions were those of most attorneys-general, tough on criminal law and procedure. It was clear to me that he was a highly intelligent man and that he was principled. Yes, his positions were conservative but so were those of many in the New Hampshire of the late 1970s. Those were the times of Gov. Meldrim (Keep 'Live Free or Die' on the state license plate) Thomson and Wild Bill Loeb's Manchester Union-Leader. The Union-Leader sometimes sent a reporter to cover our public meetings and our only worry was whether the writeup would have anything much in common with what went on at the meeting. Souter was conservative, at least on criminal law, which is what he tended to speak about, since that was what he was concerned with as deputy and later, Attorney-General. I never figured he was just lawyering for his client and that those were not his fundamental beliefs. I respected his principles in that he was there to represent his client, the Attorney-General. He hung out with people like Senator Warren Rudman, a GOP conservative but not a crazy. Little did I think he really did not agree with them on criminal law, or any other area of law, for that matter.
So, yes, I was as surprised as everyone else when Justice Souter turned out to be far more open to arguments coming from the center and left than anyone--including every New Hampshire lawyer I knew--had expected. The current Supreme Court is described as having conservative and liberal blocs, each comprising four justices, with Justice Kennedy as the swing vote. True, except that I've never felt that Stevens, Souter, Ginsburg, and Breyer, JJ., were liberals of the William O. Douglas, Hugo Black (mostly), Frank Murphy, or Wiley Rutledge sort. Only media in the U.S. would act as if they were leftists.
I read last week that all the wild feuding over Supreme Court appointments really began when Lyndon Johnson nominated Abe Fortas, already on the Court, to be Chief Justice. It blew up in LBJ's face, partly because Abe had accepted some funding of speeches from a somewhat shady financier, but mostly because Johnson was a little too cute and submitted the nomination, as well as that of Rep. Homer Thornberry (D-TX) late in his term, giving the GOP a bit of a basis for crying foul. They raised holy hell and then it was the Democrats' turn when Nixon put up the able but reactionary Haynsworth and the totally inept Carswell. Rehnquist managed to slide by to promotion to Chief Justice despite his willingness to lie about his views on race and try to blame the renowned Justice Robert H. Jackson, who had been foolish enough to hire him as a law clerk, as well as lie about his role in challenging black voters in Arizona. The Democrats got it together to knock out the last man standing from the Saturday night massacre, Bob Bork. Arlen Spector, with the unwitting assistance of Joe Biden (both of whom should burn wherever for it), helped give us Clarence Thomas. Roberts and Alito were clearly competent (as was Bork) but had not shot their mouths off so slipped through the confirmation process despite their solid conservatism. Not a pretty picture, mainly because almost all the bad guys got on the bench.
So now Obama, clearly a President perfectly situated to select a fine justice, is pressed to play ethnic group politics. I'd like to see him select a fine liberal justice, since the Republicans always get away with picking solid conservatives and then the media tell the Democrats to pick moderates. No dice. A gay Hispanic woman? Fine, if she has the fortitude and the smarts to take on the not-that-brilliant conservative cadre on the Court. And I guess we need someone who is not too old, since they need to stick around through the various regimes we will inevitably suffer. The new Solicitor General, Elena Kagan, has just finished five years as Dean of Harvard Law. I heard her speak at the school's first public service law conference ever last spring and she put her money where her mouth was--she announced that Harvard would pick up the bill for third-year tuition for students who pledged to go into public service or public interest law for five years. She was the first dean of the ones I have known there who wanted to move the school in the liberal direction. Obama could do a lot worse than pick her.
They all also thought he was incredibly conservative. And during our meetings, his positions were those of most attorneys-general, tough on criminal law and procedure. It was clear to me that he was a highly intelligent man and that he was principled. Yes, his positions were conservative but so were those of many in the New Hampshire of the late 1970s. Those were the times of Gov. Meldrim (Keep 'Live Free or Die' on the state license plate) Thomson and Wild Bill Loeb's Manchester Union-Leader. The Union-Leader sometimes sent a reporter to cover our public meetings and our only worry was whether the writeup would have anything much in common with what went on at the meeting. Souter was conservative, at least on criminal law, which is what he tended to speak about, since that was what he was concerned with as deputy and later, Attorney-General. I never figured he was just lawyering for his client and that those were not his fundamental beliefs. I respected his principles in that he was there to represent his client, the Attorney-General. He hung out with people like Senator Warren Rudman, a GOP conservative but not a crazy. Little did I think he really did not agree with them on criminal law, or any other area of law, for that matter.
So, yes, I was as surprised as everyone else when Justice Souter turned out to be far more open to arguments coming from the center and left than anyone--including every New Hampshire lawyer I knew--had expected. The current Supreme Court is described as having conservative and liberal blocs, each comprising four justices, with Justice Kennedy as the swing vote. True, except that I've never felt that Stevens, Souter, Ginsburg, and Breyer, JJ., were liberals of the William O. Douglas, Hugo Black (mostly), Frank Murphy, or Wiley Rutledge sort. Only media in the U.S. would act as if they were leftists.
I read last week that all the wild feuding over Supreme Court appointments really began when Lyndon Johnson nominated Abe Fortas, already on the Court, to be Chief Justice. It blew up in LBJ's face, partly because Abe had accepted some funding of speeches from a somewhat shady financier, but mostly because Johnson was a little too cute and submitted the nomination, as well as that of Rep. Homer Thornberry (D-TX) late in his term, giving the GOP a bit of a basis for crying foul. They raised holy hell and then it was the Democrats' turn when Nixon put up the able but reactionary Haynsworth and the totally inept Carswell. Rehnquist managed to slide by to promotion to Chief Justice despite his willingness to lie about his views on race and try to blame the renowned Justice Robert H. Jackson, who had been foolish enough to hire him as a law clerk, as well as lie about his role in challenging black voters in Arizona. The Democrats got it together to knock out the last man standing from the Saturday night massacre, Bob Bork. Arlen Spector, with the unwitting assistance of Joe Biden (both of whom should burn wherever for it), helped give us Clarence Thomas. Roberts and Alito were clearly competent (as was Bork) but had not shot their mouths off so slipped through the confirmation process despite their solid conservatism. Not a pretty picture, mainly because almost all the bad guys got on the bench.
So now Obama, clearly a President perfectly situated to select a fine justice, is pressed to play ethnic group politics. I'd like to see him select a fine liberal justice, since the Republicans always get away with picking solid conservatives and then the media tell the Democrats to pick moderates. No dice. A gay Hispanic woman? Fine, if she has the fortitude and the smarts to take on the not-that-brilliant conservative cadre on the Court. And I guess we need someone who is not too old, since they need to stick around through the various regimes we will inevitably suffer. The new Solicitor General, Elena Kagan, has just finished five years as Dean of Harvard Law. I heard her speak at the school's first public service law conference ever last spring and she put her money where her mouth was--she announced that Harvard would pick up the bill for third-year tuition for students who pledged to go into public service or public interest law for five years. She was the first dean of the ones I have known there who wanted to move the school in the liberal direction. Obama could do a lot worse than pick her.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
The Virginians
In connection with attending the Alger convention, I joined with some others there over the two days or so to visit the nearby homes of our 3rd, 4th, and 5th Presidents, of the U.S., that is: Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe. I'd previously seen Monticello, right on a hill outside Charlottesville, but the Alger society organized a special tour through our host, who is chief editor of the Jefferson Papers Project, located in a fine library down the hill from Monticello.
This visit to Monticello included the recently-opened dome. The guide was a knowledgeable UVa grad, proud like them all of Mr J, but not guilty of skipping the sore spots, like the $100,000+ hole he left his descendants in on July 4, 1826, the famous date on which both he and John Adams died. Madison and Monroe also ran up the debts, so all three homes were sold and later recovered by foundations organized for the purpose. I was also pleased that the guide did not slight Commodore Uriah Phillips Levy, who might also be called Mr J, who bought Monticello with the aim of preserving as much of Jefferson's legacy as possible, and whose descendants sold it back in 1923 to the current foundation ownership.
I knew a reasonable amount about Madison but found Montpelier, his home out in Orange County, a beautiful site. The house is still being renovated, and is a place to see how that is done. I've always found Madison fascinating, because he was so involved in so many aspects of the U.S. founding era. He managed to be Jefferson's closest friend and ally but also co-wrote the Federalist Papers with Hamilton, probably the most important work of political theory ever written in this country. As a Representative in the 1st Congress, he put the Bill of Rights through. He was shy and short and managed to work with so many different people, probably because he was not directly threatening to them. As with his two friends, he knew many languages but never managed to get over to Europe as they did. He even, in one recollection seen or heard at Montpelier, worked with Aaron Burr on one project. Well, they both had been Princetonians, although then it was still the College of New Jersey.
Monroe, except for his Doctrine, and his having been elected virtually unanimously for his second term (one electoral vote was witheld so Washington would remain the only unanimous choice), was less familiar to me. I did not know that he spent more total time in public service than any of them, that he was the last Revolutionary War vet to be president (he had been advance party for the successful surprise attack that won back Trenton but was pictured in Leutze's famed picture of GW crossing the Delaware anyway), and that he and his family spoke French during their rare times at Ashlawn Highlands, the house he built about 2 1/2 miles from Monticello. He married a New York girl in New York; he and Elizabeth were the opposite of James and Dolley Madison in that he was tall and she quite short. He spent two years at William & Mary before leaving for the War and coincidentally, his house is now owned by that university.
All three sites prominently now mention their having been supported by the slave economy in their day. All are somewhat discombobulated by it. Monticello can no longer resist the DNA proof that Mr J fathered one or more of Sally Hemings's children. Unlike Washington, they did not free all their slaves even at their end, as he did, presumably because the peculiar institution was integrally part of the operation. Monroe favored manumission, or return to Africa, which is why the returned slaves who found Liberia named their capital, Monrovia, for him. Slave quarters are being restored at Montpelier and Ashland.
I get a kick out of the fact that he who had the most insight into what the U.S. would become, the non-native-born New Yorker, Hamilton, was the proverbial kid from nowhere, well, Nevis, with nothing, and never had any slaves, although some were owned up north in those days. He was the only one of the Founding Fathers who favored emancipation way back when.
This visit to Monticello included the recently-opened dome. The guide was a knowledgeable UVa grad, proud like them all of Mr J, but not guilty of skipping the sore spots, like the $100,000+ hole he left his descendants in on July 4, 1826, the famous date on which both he and John Adams died. Madison and Monroe also ran up the debts, so all three homes were sold and later recovered by foundations organized for the purpose. I was also pleased that the guide did not slight Commodore Uriah Phillips Levy, who might also be called Mr J, who bought Monticello with the aim of preserving as much of Jefferson's legacy as possible, and whose descendants sold it back in 1923 to the current foundation ownership.
I knew a reasonable amount about Madison but found Montpelier, his home out in Orange County, a beautiful site. The house is still being renovated, and is a place to see how that is done. I've always found Madison fascinating, because he was so involved in so many aspects of the U.S. founding era. He managed to be Jefferson's closest friend and ally but also co-wrote the Federalist Papers with Hamilton, probably the most important work of political theory ever written in this country. As a Representative in the 1st Congress, he put the Bill of Rights through. He was shy and short and managed to work with so many different people, probably because he was not directly threatening to them. As with his two friends, he knew many languages but never managed to get over to Europe as they did. He even, in one recollection seen or heard at Montpelier, worked with Aaron Burr on one project. Well, they both had been Princetonians, although then it was still the College of New Jersey.
Monroe, except for his Doctrine, and his having been elected virtually unanimously for his second term (one electoral vote was witheld so Washington would remain the only unanimous choice), was less familiar to me. I did not know that he spent more total time in public service than any of them, that he was the last Revolutionary War vet to be president (he had been advance party for the successful surprise attack that won back Trenton but was pictured in Leutze's famed picture of GW crossing the Delaware anyway), and that he and his family spoke French during their rare times at Ashlawn Highlands, the house he built about 2 1/2 miles from Monticello. He married a New York girl in New York; he and Elizabeth were the opposite of James and Dolley Madison in that he was tall and she quite short. He spent two years at William & Mary before leaving for the War and coincidentally, his house is now owned by that university.
All three sites prominently now mention their having been supported by the slave economy in their day. All are somewhat discombobulated by it. Monticello can no longer resist the DNA proof that Mr J fathered one or more of Sally Hemings's children. Unlike Washington, they did not free all their slaves even at their end, as he did, presumably because the peculiar institution was integrally part of the operation. Monroe favored manumission, or return to Africa, which is why the returned slaves who found Liberia named their capital, Monrovia, for him. Slave quarters are being restored at Montpelier and Ashland.
I get a kick out of the fact that he who had the most insight into what the U.S. would become, the non-native-born New Yorker, Hamilton, was the proverbial kid from nowhere, well, Nevis, with nothing, and never had any slaves, although some were owned up north in those days. He was the only one of the Founding Fathers who favored emancipation way back when.
Ankle-deep in Alger-land
Spent most of this weekend in Charlottesville, only minimally on the Grounds of the University of Virginia (half a mile away), but mostly at the annual convention of the Horatio Alger Society. Why, one might ask, do I attend such a get-together? The follow-up or prefatory question could be why do I own probably 200 or so volumes written (or mostly written) by aforesaid H. Alger Jr. (1832-1899)?
A long time ago, someone (I really don't recall who) gave me an old Alger novel, assuming that any right-minded American boy would enjoy same, and I was probably about 11 or so at the time. As it happened, I found the story of some interest, not so much for the plot as for the setting. Alger was writing about down-and-out young people (almost always boys, with two exceptions), usually in old (1850-1870) New York City. I already had a good knowledge of the city and enjoyed how he depicted the sleazy areas of that time, such as Five Points, eventually obliterated by both the building of the courthouses in Foley Square and the expansion of Chinatown. His style was snappy and even a bit funny in its old-fashioned way. I was also drawn to the way books were produced and sold in those days of yore, largely before the turn of the 20th century. Publishers tried to maintain interest in an author by promising great things in the next exciting volume in such-and-such series.
Once, visiting family in Philadelphia--probably I was 14 or so by now--I managed to buy two Algers at the now legendary Leary's Book Store on Ninth Street, another lost treasure of the book trade. I still have them, purchased at the relatively high price then of $5 a book. Leary's had about five large shelves of Algers. I'm glad that I wasn't in a position then to buy them all--not that one would ever see such a display now. But I was hooked, I suppose. I liked reading the Algers, although schoolteachers and librarians regarded them as barely equal to comic books, an unfair testimony to Alger's incredible popularity. He probably sold more books than anyone until mass market paperbacks came along, always excluding the Bible and Shakespeare.
I learned more about Alger from an article by Frank Gruber that I found in the New York Public Library reference division from the fabled Room 315, once the home of the world's greatest card catalog. And as I travelled, especially when doing court studies in places like New England, I'd find the odd Alger or two in backroads bookstores, behind the woodworking tools and duck decoys (yes, I still collect the latter, although most exceed the amount I'm willing to spend). I began to accumulate them, the Alger books, that is. My Army Reserves friend, Herb Moskowitz, now Chief Registrar at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, passed along a notice he spotted in one of the many aniquarian collecting periodicals he came across--the notice mentioned that the Horatio Alger Society would be meeting soon. This was in the 1970s.
I decided to attend the first (for me) annual convention, to be held in Annapolic Junction, Md. It was at a Schrafft's motor inn alongside the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. There were about 100 in attendance and they had a book sale and dinners two nights, with lots of conversations about Alger books and juvenile books, mostly later 19th century American, of all kinds. I was fascinated. Many of the members were older and from the Midwest but one, Ralph Gardner, was a proud, charming New Yorker and I gravitated to him. Ralph had been in advertising and written for various media in New York. He clearly had enough leisure now to take on projects like editing a bibliography of Alger's works. He had unearthed some hitherto unknown Alger books and stories and even managed to publish some of them.
The Alger crew was enough fun that I put it down to try to attend again sometime. Unlike most of the membership who attended almost every year, I became a bit of a peripatetic member: in 30+ years, I've managed to make it to 10 conventions, or about one every three years. Usually I plan to go, but some trip overseas or something else comes up to thwart such plans many times. Soon after my first, I was notified through the bimonthly newsletter, Newsboy, that the next convention was being held unusually soon at Willow Grove, Pa., because the U. S. Post Office finally had agreed to honor Alger's memory with a postage stamp. I enjoyed being with everyone in a parking lot at a mall where from a platform the then-Postmaster General announced the issuance of the stamp.
Since then I've been to conventions in Salt Lake City, Catskill, NY, North Conway, NH, and West Chester, PA, for starters. I missed the two at DeKalb, IL, where the society helped establish a repository of Alger books at Northern Illinois University, but at last night's banquet at Michie Tavern, right down the hill from Monticello, where we had had a special tour, I sat with Art Young, now retired as chief librarian of special collections at NIU, and his wife Pat, who are hosting next year's, at Portsmouth, NH.
Through many conversations and some reading, I've learned a lot about 19th and early 20th century juvenile literature and explored shelves of it in many bookstores. There are members who specialize in Alger contemporaries such as Oliver Optic, who wrote civil war juvenile novels, and Harry Castlemon and Edward S. Ellis, prolific Western writers. Others know all about all of the Oz books--one car had an OZ national sticker with two bumper stickers-"Follow the Yellow Brick Road" and "Don't Make Me Release the Flying Monkeys".
The society now has short presentations on subjects related to the juvenile lit field of those days. All the various series and illustrators are examined. Many now attend annual meetings devoted to academic inquiry into Popular Culture as a whole. This may be where the society ends up, as one-third of the membership is 75 or older. I enjoy being with people who have such intensive knowledge of things like how to identify first editions and different bindings and publishers. One long-time member edited The Dime Novel Round-up for many years. I also learned much about Alger himself, beyond his inability through serious plot construction to win fame, cash, and girl for his heroes, other than through wild coincidence. But I'll save that for another time.
A long time ago, someone (I really don't recall who) gave me an old Alger novel, assuming that any right-minded American boy would enjoy same, and I was probably about 11 or so at the time. As it happened, I found the story of some interest, not so much for the plot as for the setting. Alger was writing about down-and-out young people (almost always boys, with two exceptions), usually in old (1850-1870) New York City. I already had a good knowledge of the city and enjoyed how he depicted the sleazy areas of that time, such as Five Points, eventually obliterated by both the building of the courthouses in Foley Square and the expansion of Chinatown. His style was snappy and even a bit funny in its old-fashioned way. I was also drawn to the way books were produced and sold in those days of yore, largely before the turn of the 20th century. Publishers tried to maintain interest in an author by promising great things in the next exciting volume in such-and-such series.
Once, visiting family in Philadelphia--probably I was 14 or so by now--I managed to buy two Algers at the now legendary Leary's Book Store on Ninth Street, another lost treasure of the book trade. I still have them, purchased at the relatively high price then of $5 a book. Leary's had about five large shelves of Algers. I'm glad that I wasn't in a position then to buy them all--not that one would ever see such a display now. But I was hooked, I suppose. I liked reading the Algers, although schoolteachers and librarians regarded them as barely equal to comic books, an unfair testimony to Alger's incredible popularity. He probably sold more books than anyone until mass market paperbacks came along, always excluding the Bible and Shakespeare.
I learned more about Alger from an article by Frank Gruber that I found in the New York Public Library reference division from the fabled Room 315, once the home of the world's greatest card catalog. And as I travelled, especially when doing court studies in places like New England, I'd find the odd Alger or two in backroads bookstores, behind the woodworking tools and duck decoys (yes, I still collect the latter, although most exceed the amount I'm willing to spend). I began to accumulate them, the Alger books, that is. My Army Reserves friend, Herb Moskowitz, now Chief Registrar at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, passed along a notice he spotted in one of the many aniquarian collecting periodicals he came across--the notice mentioned that the Horatio Alger Society would be meeting soon. This was in the 1970s.
I decided to attend the first (for me) annual convention, to be held in Annapolic Junction, Md. It was at a Schrafft's motor inn alongside the Baltimore-Washington Parkway. There were about 100 in attendance and they had a book sale and dinners two nights, with lots of conversations about Alger books and juvenile books, mostly later 19th century American, of all kinds. I was fascinated. Many of the members were older and from the Midwest but one, Ralph Gardner, was a proud, charming New Yorker and I gravitated to him. Ralph had been in advertising and written for various media in New York. He clearly had enough leisure now to take on projects like editing a bibliography of Alger's works. He had unearthed some hitherto unknown Alger books and stories and even managed to publish some of them.
The Alger crew was enough fun that I put it down to try to attend again sometime. Unlike most of the membership who attended almost every year, I became a bit of a peripatetic member: in 30+ years, I've managed to make it to 10 conventions, or about one every three years. Usually I plan to go, but some trip overseas or something else comes up to thwart such plans many times. Soon after my first, I was notified through the bimonthly newsletter, Newsboy, that the next convention was being held unusually soon at Willow Grove, Pa., because the U. S. Post Office finally had agreed to honor Alger's memory with a postage stamp. I enjoyed being with everyone in a parking lot at a mall where from a platform the then-Postmaster General announced the issuance of the stamp.
Since then I've been to conventions in Salt Lake City, Catskill, NY, North Conway, NH, and West Chester, PA, for starters. I missed the two at DeKalb, IL, where the society helped establish a repository of Alger books at Northern Illinois University, but at last night's banquet at Michie Tavern, right down the hill from Monticello, where we had had a special tour, I sat with Art Young, now retired as chief librarian of special collections at NIU, and his wife Pat, who are hosting next year's, at Portsmouth, NH.
Through many conversations and some reading, I've learned a lot about 19th and early 20th century juvenile literature and explored shelves of it in many bookstores. There are members who specialize in Alger contemporaries such as Oliver Optic, who wrote civil war juvenile novels, and Harry Castlemon and Edward S. Ellis, prolific Western writers. Others know all about all of the Oz books--one car had an OZ national sticker with two bumper stickers-"Follow the Yellow Brick Road" and "Don't Make Me Release the Flying Monkeys".
The society now has short presentations on subjects related to the juvenile lit field of those days. All the various series and illustrators are examined. Many now attend annual meetings devoted to academic inquiry into Popular Culture as a whole. This may be where the society ends up, as one-third of the membership is 75 or older. I enjoy being with people who have such intensive knowledge of things like how to identify first editions and different bindings and publishers. One long-time member edited The Dime Novel Round-up for many years. I also learned much about Alger himself, beyond his inability through serious plot construction to win fame, cash, and girl for his heroes, other than through wild coincidence. But I'll save that for another time.
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