Cry at Dusk by Lester Dent

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Cry at Dusk is part adventure pulp and part hardboiled crime novel. Pulp writers from the golden age like Lester Dent tended to always write adventure serials even when writing PBOs for Gold Medal. Another case that comes to mind is Cornell Woolrich's The Savage Bride which owes more to Rider Haggard than to his crime novels of the 40s.

What was interesting about the first half of Cry at Dusk--and the cover suggest this as well--is that it reads pretty much like a typical GM crime novel, but then turns into an exotic adventure of lost treasure.



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We All Killed Grandma by Fredric Brown

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Sometimes Fredric Brown's premises are a little far-fetched. But, if you buy into them you're generally rewarded with a good read. We All Killed Grandma is a classic example. A man discovers the body of his murdered grandmother and immediately lapses into amnesia leaving him to try to solve a murder of which he himself might be guilty.



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So Young, So Wicked by Jonathan Craig

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Wow, started off the year with a bang! This one from 1957 by Jonathan Craig is truly an undiscovered treasure of the Gold Medal era. It has all the necessary elements to make for a hardboiled crime novel. Especially the femme fatale, in this case a 15-year-old girl, and the twist ending.



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One of my favorite authors/songwriters/cartoonists/producers of the 60s and 70s was Shel Silverstein. I was skimming through a book recently, called 100 Great Poems for Boys, and reading some to my son when I had to stop and chuckle over the inclusion of the lyrics to Silverstein's A Boy Named Sue. It was a fairly big hit for Johnny Cash in the late 60s. Silverstein would go on to write many songs for Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show, including their biggest hit, Sylvia's Mother.

Here's a clip of Shel Silverstein on the Johnny Cash Show:

A Boy Named Sue

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!

Fire and Rain: The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, James Taylor, CSNY, and the Lost Story of 1970 by David Browne

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Fire and Rain is a great book on a pivotal year in rock music, 1970. The subtitle is The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, James Taylor, CSNY and the Lost Story of 1970. It not only covers the aforementioned musicians and, in most cases, the disintegration of the groups, but also the political climate of the times. In many ways it is a "lost story" or, at best, an often overlooked story of that year. We tend to forget or, maybe, try to forget, the bombings by radicals and the campus unrest and shootings.

This book dovetailed nicely with two other books I've read recently. It was like a sequel to Michael Walker's Laurel Canyon, picking up right where that book ends and being about many of the same musicians. It also covered the accidental bombing of a Fifth Avenue brownstone by the Weathermen that was part of the history of Greenwich Village by John Straugsbaugh, The Village: 400 Years of Beats and Bohemians, Radicals and Rogues, which I'd read just three weeks ago.



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Last summer it was the Tom Collins, a refreshing summer drink, but this summer I've moved on to the equally refreshing Moscow Mule. As you can see by these ads from the 60's, featuring Woody Allen (left) and Robert Morse (right), lately of Mad Men fame, that the Mule was served traditionally in frosty copper mugs.

The recipe is simple: Just remember 1-2-3. 1 part Rose's Lime Juice, 2 parts vodka, and 3 parts ginger beer.

In an attempt to revive the popularity of vodka in the late 1950s, manufacturers were thinking of creative ways to overcome the stigma of a liquor long associated with communist Russia. In the midst of the cold war and the space race, Americans were shunning vodka and sales, although never as high as whisky in this country, were slumping. It wasn't until the mid-60s and the advent, and help, of James Bond, who order vodka martinis "shaken, not stirred" in the Bond movies that started in 1963 that sales started to revive.

The Village: 400 Years of Beats and Bohemians, Radicals and Rogues by John Strausbaugh

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


One of the better books of New York history I've read in a few years. It's actually the second book I've read in the past year about a specific neighborhood, the first being Laurel Canyon, another interesting read.

Although the books covers a lot of ground, it does give short shrift to some interesting aspects of Greenwich Village history, most notably the Off-Off Broadway shows Three Penny Opera and The Fastasticks, which had a profound impact on, not only New York, but the rest of the country. There is only a mention of the cast of Three Penny Opera and nothing of the music.

The paragraph on the Fantasticks was a complete missed opportunity. Not only was the name misspelled--without the "k"--which could have been the result of over-zealous editing--but it only got slightly more attention than Three Penny Opera. Strausbaugh mentions one song, "Try to Remember," in addition to the cast and the fact that it was the longest running show in New York History.

He neglects to mention the fact that the show itself was a victim of 9/11, with the line "Try to remember the kind of September when life was slow and oh, so mellow," which New Yorkers and its few visitors in the aftermath found to poignant a reminder of the city before the disaster. To mention that would have helped fill another void in the book, that of the impact of the 9/11 tragedy on the neighborhood. It gets less attention than Robert Moses' attempt to run an expressway through it.

To a non-New Yorker these things might seem trivial, but the majority of his readership will likely be New Yorkers. But, since its strengths far outweigh it weaknesses, I'll still give it five stars.



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The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


This is one of those cult books that was in my TBR pile for decades. The Dice Man is part Been Down So Long It Looks Up to Me and part Naked Lunch. This was my second attempt at reading it, the first being in the mid-90s when I saw a pile of copies in a bookstore with a sign that read, "This book will change your life . . ." I thought, boy I should really get around to reading it if people are still so enthusiastic about 20 years later. I could only get about 80 pages into it. This time I stuck out and it paid off--a little--a little more than I expected, at least. But it did take me a month to plow through it.

It's an interesting premise--a psychiatrist who decides to add randomness to his life by assigning the options for every decision in his life to numbers on a die and then casting the die and allowing it to dictate which option to choose. He then starts to treat his patients with his dice therapy to some spectacular success but, mostly, to dismal failure. But the dice therapy idea catches on and becomes a cult, a kind of religion, eventually becoming a national phenomenon, despite being discredited by leading authorities.

The novel is a bit dated, written as it was in 1971, but does accurately reflect the time period of the book, specifically, August 1968 to April 1971, when the world seemed obsessed with finding new ways of living and elevating spiritual awareness though drugs or different religions. The Dice Man is essentially a satire of the time.



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The Lustful Ape by Russell Gray (Bruno Fischer)

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This was the only book, to my knowledge, that was published as both a Lion and Gold Medal paperback. It was published as by Russell Gray with Lion and under his real name, Bruno Fischer, with Gold Medal.

Good early 50s PBO. You always get your money's worth with Fischer. Although his books are seldom great, they are never bad. I know that sounds like I'm damning him with faint praise, but let me assure you he's always an enjoyable read, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend him to somebody who doesn't normally read 50s pulp.



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The Expendable Man by Dorothy B. Hughes

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


I've always wanted to read a book by Dorothy Hughes. I'm not sure why I started with her last book, The Expendable Man (1962), except for the fact that it has been recently republished.

If her last book is any indication of her oeuvre, her work is similar in quality and style to Patricia Highsmith's.

I was floored by the revelation that comes a third of the way through the book. She so skillfully manipulates the narrative that, if you're not paying close attention, you'll get blindsided.

I would have given this five stars if there had been a little more drama and action, which the story could have easily have had.



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Wild by Gil Brewer

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


This has all the right ingredients for a good hardboiled read--not just one femme fatale, but two, two sisters no less. There's lots of gun play, the protagonist getting clubbed in the head, beat up, hacked-up corpses, sex in the back of cars and rye whisky. And this was written in 1958.

I would actually give it three and a half stars if I could, rather than four. The downside of the novel is that it really doesn't have a strong plot and not all that well-written. I suspect that Brewer was drunk while writing it and tried to let the story write itself.

Favorite line: "A Slow wind came in across Tampa Bay, like the hot breath of an eager woman."



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Love Goes to Buildings on Fire: Five Years in New York That Changed Music Forever by Will Hermes

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


A really good survey of five years (1973-77) of the New York music scene that changed the music world. Two related aspects struck me as I read Love Goes to Buildings on Fire, which borrows its title from the Talking Heads song of that name. The first was how diverse the music scene was in the 1970s and the second was how knowledgeable the author, Will Hermes, is about all the types of music he surveys in the book, i.e., punk, Latin, disco, experimental, etc. Only a writer who truly loves music can write informatively about all genres. There's a lot in here about Patti Smith, The Talking Heads, The Ramones and Bruce Springsteen all told in a breezy, but lucid style.



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Peppermint Twist: The Mob, the Music, and the Most Famous Dance Club of the '60s by John Johnson Jr.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Peppermint Twist is a great biography of a New York City Institution and the mobsters who created it. A lot of the ties to the music business that the mafia was rumored to have back in the 1960s are covered in this interesting history of the Peppermint Lounge.

If you read this book, let me recommend watching the movie Hey Let's Twist (1961), which is covered in the book and was shot (although I think it was just exterior shots) in the Peppermint Lounge.

If three of your favorite subjects are New York City history, the mob and music this book is a must. If even one of those subjects is of interest, you'll find enough of it to make reading Peppermint Twist enjoyable.



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The Cocktail Waitress by James M. Cain

My rating: 2 of 5 stars


Once, years ago, while buying a couple of Black Lizard editions of James M. Cain books, the cashier looked at the books, frowned slightly and said, "You know, he only wrote three good novels. The rest are crap." I was as much surprised by this opinion of Cain's oeuvre as I was at finding a bookstore cashier who had actually read all of Cain's novels.

With every subsequent book I've read of Cain's since The Postman Always Rings Twice, Mildred Pierce and Double Indemnity, I've begun to fear that that cashier might have been right after all.

Cain's writing is at times mediocre, which tends to point to the quality or amount of editing by publishers. The Cocktail Waitress is no exception, or, I should say, the first half of it. It would appear that Charles Ardai, the editor, took more of a hand in the latter part of the novel and, interestingly enough, the writing improves vastly as the story goes on. But unless you've read and enjoyed Cain's later books, you might not like this one.

Although Charles Ardai seems to have information that the book was written around 1975, the book is actually set in about 1961 or '62. I suppose, judging from the number of manuscripts Charles uncovered, Cain might have originally started the book in the early to mid-sixties and reworked it over and over again until his death.



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Redheads Die Quickly and Other Stories by Gil Brewer

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Professor David Rachels, English professor and crime blogger has launched his career as a scholar of 1950s crime fiction with this collection of Gil Brewer's short stories he's put together. His well-written introduction is the most information on Brewer's life I've read since Bill Pronzini's sketch on Mystery File and only hints at his tortured life.

One aspect of Brewer's writing that comes into sharp focus with the reading of this collection is his misogyny. What an interesting case study this book would be for the student of psychoanalysis. Just about every one of the 25 stories collected here has as its focus a depraved, scheming, evil woman who brings the mail protagonist to his demise, be it physically, emotionally or spiritually.

Besides the informative introduction there is a complete bibliography of Brewer's short fiction. Suffice it to say there are enough uncollected Brewer stories to fill quite a few more volumes and, in fact, David has said that he's working on a volume of Brewer's unpublished stories.

If I could find any fault with this nearly perfect collection it would simply be with the title. I don't think the story, "Redheads Die Quickly" was very representative in plot or title of the rest of the stories contained therein. In fact, it was one of only three stories that didn't feature a femme fatale and actually one of the weaker stories. I think David probably chose it as the title story because its a good noir title. But I think the book would have been better titled My Lady is a Tramp and Other Stories, or better yet, Femme Fatales: Stories by Gil Brewer.

Bottom line: If you're a fan of noir fiction, especially if you're a fan of Gil Brewer's, this volume is a must.


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Coney Island, 1940

Naked City by Arthur Fellig Weegee

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


Weegee's Naked City is, of course, New York City and this photo essay of the city is a must for anyone interested in the history of this great city. Written in 1945 it mostly covers the early forties, the war years, and includes now famous photos such as the beach shot at Coney Island (see below), opening night at the Met and bobbysoxers at a Sinatra concert.

Weegee (Usher Fellig) also includes a chapter of advice for those who would choose photography as a profession as well as brief chapters on the photographers Alfred Stieglitz and Pat Rich.

Although many of the photos included are familiar, reading Weegee's captions and insight add a new dimension.



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Canadian Pacific by Jeff Vorzimmer

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Dangerously Funny: The Uncensored Story of "The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour" by David Bianculli

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


The first three-quarters of this book rates five stars, but the last quarter, which should have been omitted, turns into a political rant in which Bianculli offers idiotic opinions and lame-brain conclusions. Bianculli obviously sees the canceling, or firing, of The Smothers Brothers as some kind of conspiracy and some kind of right-wing conspiracy at that, rather than what it was--Tommy Smothers self-destructiveness spiraling out of control. Rather than spending so much time trying to uncover blame elsewhere for the battles that ultimately led to the cancellation, why didn't Bianculli try to find out what was really going on with Tommy Smothers at the time, since he seemed to have unfettered access to the brothers during the writing of the book.

This book offers no new insight into the story, although the story itself is chronicled in interesting and lively detail. What it doesn't offer is much perspective from Tommy and what was going through his mind when he pulled some of the stupid stunts he did with CBS. He doesn't take Tommy to task at all, nor challenge him in any way on his actions. Nor does Tommy seem to take any real responsibility for the cancellation. Instead its offered up as political censorship, ignoring the fact that those who censored and ultimately canceled the show weren't opposed to the brothers politics, they simply didn't want to offend the viewers on topics such as religion and sex or to offend anyone personally. It was never about the political ideas espoused.

The book could have been great if Bianculli had just kept his left-wing snarking asides out. It wasn't about Democrats versus Republicans as it so often is today. It was the younger generation versus the establishment. In fact, the Democrats of the 1960s were even more conservative than the Republicans. It was a Democrat, Pastore, who talked of censoring the brothers and most everyone involved in the censoring and ultimate firing of the brothers were Democrats. As is still the case in recent years when government censorship is pursued by Democrats such as Tipper Gore.

Here's a passage from the book that shows how much Bianculli wanted to uncover a right-wing conspiracy:
"Finding a smoking gun connecting Richard Nixon directly to the demise of The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour was a task at which I proved unsuccessful, but not for lack of effort." Doesn't this guy have an editor at Simon & Schuster?

How can someone who spends so much time researching a story ignore the facts he uncovers and come to such idiotic conclusions? This is what partisan politics does to a writer.






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Laurel Canyon: The Inside Story of Rock-And-Roll's Legendary Neighborhood by Michael Walker

My rating: 4 of 5 stars


Interesting take on the 1960s and 70s as seen from Laurel Canyon in L.A. Walker includes a lot of anecdotes about the musicians who lived in the Canyon and the groups that came out that environment. A good read, though Walked does indulge in a few tangents. Recommended for anyone interested in the history of those decades



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