I was on BBC Radio4
Front Row yesterday, discussing E.L. Doctorow with Samira Ahmed.
Although I was saddened by his death, it was a privilege to be able
to convey some of my enthusiasm for his work, and for him as a
person, to a wider audience. You can link to that broadcast here; our segment starts about 16 minutes in, but really it's worth listening right through from the start, it's that good a programme.
Doctorow's work is
always about relations of power—whether class, financial, racial,
physical or whatever, and how the imbalance of those relations is at
the core of the American experience, if not the core of the American
Dream. It is always about the problems of America, the way those at
the bottom experience the City on A Hill. It's easy to miss, because
the stories themselves are so engrossing, the characters so well
drawn: his historical figures blend with his invented ones,
reinforcing his insistence that he was not writing historical
fiction. Take The March, published when he was 74. It's as
good a Civil War novel as anyone had written in a long time, but at
heart it's about the way, even before the war was over, the
rebellious southerners were being welcomed back into the fold, and
the newly 'freed' slaves were being found a status not much different
from slavery.
I met Doctorow once,
at a debate organised by the New Yorker (with whom I was on good
terms at the time, though never good enough to sell them anything)
and the Sunday Telegraph at Cheltenham Ladies College, probably about
25 years ago. I was standing by myself at the pre-debate reception,
and two guys standing next to me drew me into their conversation.
'Hi, I'm Joe, this is Ed,' one of them said, and a few seconds later
I dissolved into fan boy status as I realised I was talking to Joe
Heller and Ed Doctorow. It was one of the finest half-hours I've ever
spent: the discussion never got near literary gossip; it covered real
topics, and had mobile phones been invented I would even now be
bombarding you with selfies.
Doctorow was maybe
the last of the politically involved novelists from the time writers
of fiction (and excellent non-fiction) were considered important
pundits, rather than retreating to academia and ceding the high ground to the screeching beltway hacks who now populate
the airways and leech into print. He was younger than Vonnegut,
Mailer, or Vidal, but like them he accepted a public presence. He and
his Kenyon classmate Paul Newman helped keep the Nation, America's
pre-eminent left-wing weekly, afloat for years, and Doctorow
contributed many fine essays to it. And like Mailer, and Roth (who is
two years younger) he may the last of that generation of novelists
educated in New York's public schools and then WASPy private
colleges. I mentioned on Front Row that Doctorow's academic career
reads like a character from a Philip Roth novel (Marcus, from
Indignation, actually).
What was important
from Doctorow's time at Kenyon was his study with John Crowe Ransom,
one of the godfathers of 'New Criticism'. There's an interesting
essay to be written about how New Criticism's analysis of Modernism
helped generate Post-Modernism. Mailer and Vidal followed the
modernist greats, with Vidal picking up a post-modern sort of irony;
but Vonnegut and, with less flash but more variety, Doctorow, clearly
embraced a post-modern sense of narrative. I mentioned how Doctorow's
narrative strategies changed with each book: Loon Lake,
perhaps the most extreme example, might be compared with John Hawkes.
But it was
Doctorow's sense of history that inevitably defines his writing. John
Updike hated Ragtime, saying Doctorow was 'playing with
helpless dead puppets...in a gravity-free faintly sadistic game'. But
I can't think of a writer less sadistic to his characters. One often
has the feeling the author wishes the characters could be something
other than what they are, but that what they are is simply too
powerful, too real, to change. The famous story about staring at a
portrait of J.P. Morgan by Edward Steichen to 'research' his
character rings absolutely true. It's also why I like his first
novel, Welcome To Hard Times, so much. Many of the obituaries
repeated the line that the book started out as parody, but even were
that Doctorow's original intent, his sense of parody became one of
deconstruction. I look at the book as a precursor to Thomas Berger's
Little Big Man, and Berger's novel as a sort of precursor to
Doctorow's bigger novels. The film of Welcome To Hard Times
isn't great; Burt Kennedy's scripts were always better when someone
else directed them, but you can see Henry Fonda gets what the book
was about. In passing, it's odd how that great wave of post-modern
novelists: Heller, Doctorow, Vonnegut, Mailer, Berger, Barth,
Pynchon, were either ill-served or served not at all by Hollywood. I sometimes wonder if too many of Doctorow's novels end in melodrama and violence, and if those genre novels he edited at NAL did affect him, but it occurs to me that an imbalance of power in society is almost always enforced by violence, and protested by violence. Hard Times is about what happens when society is ill-equipped to deal with rampant evil; that's a classic western trope, but Doctorow's idea is that it is really endemic in our society.
I mentioned the New
Criticism; Doctorow was a fine editor at New American Library and
Dial Press. His obits mentioned the big names he edited, everything
from Mailer and Baldwin to the unlikely pairing with Ayn Rand. But Ed
Brubaker wrote today about how it was Doctorow who commissioned Jules
Feiffer's The Comic Book Heroes; the first serious study of
comics, and one that looked wryly at the America those early
super-heroes represented. I mentioned to Samira that World's Fair
might be my favourite of Doctorow's novels, and I spoke of the sense
it gives me of the time in which my parents grew up; but I realised
too that part of my pleasure in that book is the way our knowledge of
what became of the world since then burnishes our memories of 1939.
It was published in 1985, as if to say, look what we came out of,
look at how high our hopes were, and now you want to turn the clocks
back to the age of greed?
I ought to explain as well that I don't consider Waterworks his best novel, but in its style and structure it may be his best piece of prose writing. I haven't even
mentioned Billy Bathgate or
The Book Of Daniel,
either of which might head many people's list of favourite Doctorow
books, but we do mention them in the Front Row talk. I recommend his
short stories too, and especially his essays, which approach
literature and politics with the same caring that he shows his
fictional characters. He gave a graduation address at Brandeis, and
after the college edited the copy for its magazine, The Nation
published it in full. It was almost a Jeremiad, an effort to remind
the students of the world they were about to enter, and remind them
more of what they could bring to it with the learning they had just
received. Couching his words in almost literary theory, but using an
uncharacteristic vituperative approach, he talked about how we were
seeing a 'national regression to the robber baronial thinking of the
19th
century—nothing less than a deconstruction of America...as if we
were not supposed to be a just nation, but a confederacy of stupid
murderous gluttons.'
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