This collection of essays by New Yorker writer A. J. Liebling provides a sampler of Liebling's wide interests and concerns. As a journalist, he developed an affectionate regard for hustlers, handicappers, and confidence men. His essays on New York provide a loving but eccentric portrait of the life of the city. Book reviews, musings on his youth and on great food, comments on the responsibilities of the press, observations on social customs, and, of course, his reports from Europe just before and after World War II all display the keen intelligence and unquenchable curiosity of the writer. A. J. Liebling has often been regarded as one of the greatest of American journalists. These essays show him at his best, always finding the element of human interest in the most complex story. As Fred Warner notes in the introduction, once we read Liebling, we wish he were still around commenting on the absurdities of our times, writing about our current crop of mountebanks who so abundantly flourish, insisting on the objectivity and integrity of the Press. But most of all we wish he were here to grace us with his marvelous prose.
As promised (after my reading of The Wayward Pressman), I've devoured the next Liebling in my pursuit of the more obscure, hard-to-find collections of his writings. This one is more hit-or-miss, but more hit than miss (thus the fifth star). There's quite a bit of variety here, as it spans the years 1937 to 1964.
There's his missives from Paris in the eighteen months leading up to the Nazis marching into the city ("I remember every detail. The Germans wore gray, you wore blue" -- Bogart, in Casablanca). In The American Golcanda, he relates the story of a "diamond mine" swindle that took place back in 1873; it really underlines how greed can blind some otherwise intelligent men. There's two short pieces from the war in Europe; I have to think that the best stuff was published in the LofA volume. There's the Colonel, who feigned madness when captured by the Vichy French, was let go only to steal a warship, which he eventually turned over to the Free French. In the Mustang Buzzers he attempts to accompany some horse wranglers going after mustangs in Northern Nevada, only to have it turn into a goose hunt. No matter. A lot of the folks that he wrote about in A Reporter at Large show up here -- that's the book on the Paiute legal fight to get their land back. If that mustang hunt jogs your memory, it's probably because you saw the film The Misfits. Without Liebling, there would not have been Marilyn Monroe's last film. Another standout piece is about a sordid New York murder case from 1897, in which a reporter whom Liebling knew at The New York World cracked the case without getting credit for it. It's the longest piece here, and Liebling does a superb job of reporting on the shoddy and speculative reporting of essentially all of the New York dailies. He quotes lengthy excerpts from a number of stories that highlight how extreme that yellow journalism got in the lead-up to the Spanish-American War.
Not a perfect collection, so more like four and one half stars.