A witty and engaging history of one of American modernism’s great monuments. Back in the days when magazines were important, few were devoured more avidly by the cognoscenti than the Smart Set during the tenure of coeditors H.L. Mencken and noted drama critic George Jean Nathan, who took over in 1914. Proclaiming that “one civilized reader was worth a thousand boneheads,” Mencken and Nathan engaged in a full-scale assault on American nativism, naivetÇ, and knee-jerk puritanism. Their weapons were scorn, sarcasm, and outright mockery as well as a fierce dedication to high culture and the avant-garde. F. Scott Fitzgerald was an early discovery, as was Eugene O’Neill. James Joyce even made his American debut in the magazine. The two editors were complementary in almost everything, even their eccentricities. Believing that culture was far above futile political struggles, they kept all mention of WW I out of the magazine. As Nathan wrote: “If all the Armenians were to be killed tomorrow and if half of Russia were to starve to death the day after, it would not matter to me in the least. . . . Life, as I see it, is for the fortunate few.” This kind of militant, irreverent aestheticism appalled the “booboisie” but wowed the cosmopolitans. Finally, after ten successful years, Mencken and Nathan began to feel that the magazine was running out of steam. To propound their ideas properly, they needed a completely new forum’so with the backing of the publisher Alfred A. Knopf, they started the American Mercury. Stripped of its stars, the Smart Set managed to struggle on a few more years before finally going under during the Depression. Curtiss (Von Stroheim, 1971) is every bit as smart and stylish as his subject. His excellent biographical portrait of the so often overshadowed Nathan is particularly notable. A graceful, richly detailed delight. (photos, not seen)
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").
Noted jazz and pop record producer Thiele offers a chatty autobiography. Aided by record-business colleague Golden, Thiele traces his career from his start as a ``pubescent, novice jazz record producer'' in the 1940s through the '50s, when he headed Coral, Dot, and Roulette Records, and the '60s, when he worked for ABC and ran the famous Impulse! jazz label. At Coral, Thiele championed the work of ``hillbilly'' singer Buddy Holly, although the only sessions he produced with Holly were marred by saccharine strings. The producer specialized in more mainstream popsters like the irrepressibly perky Teresa Brewer (who later became his fourth wife) and the bubble-machine muzak-meister Lawrence Welk. At Dot, Thiele was instrumental in recording Jack Kerouac's famous beat- generation ramblings to jazz accompaniment (recordings that Dot's president found ``pornographic''), while also overseeing a steady stream of pop hits. He then moved to the Mafia-controlled Roulette label, where he observed the ``silk-suited, pinky-ringed'' entourage who frequented the label's offices. Incredibly, however, Thiele remembers the famously hard-nosed Morris Levy, who ran the label and was eventually convicted of extortion, as ``one of the kindest, most warm-hearted, and classiest music men I have ever known.'' At ABC/Impulse!, Thiele oversaw the classic recordings of John Coltrane, although he is the first to admit that Coltrane essentially produced his own sessions. Like many producers of the day, Thiele participated in the ownership of publishing rights to some of the songs he recorded; he makes no apology for this practice, which he calls ``entirely appropriate and without any ethical conflicts.'' A pleasant, if not exactly riveting, memoir that will be of most interest to those with a thirst for cocktail-hour stories of the record biz. (25 halftones, not seen)