Best Books of 2018

My favorite books that I read in 2018.

I read 22 books in 2018, most of which I reviewed on this blog. Here are my favorites that I read this year. The links will take you to the full review of the book.

Promise Me, Dad, by Joe Biden, 2017. Biden’s heartfelt memoir of losing his son Beau to cancer, and making the decision to not run for President in 2016 is an extremely powerful book. 

The Judge Hunter, by Christopher Buckley, 2018. One of our finest satirists follows 2015’s The Relic Master with another fine historical comedy, this one set in the New World in the 1600’s. 

Summer, by Edith Wharton, 1917. This novel follows eighteen-year-old Charity Royall, who lives in the stifling small town of North Dormer. Things get more exciting when a handsome young architect comes to visit. 

The House of Mirth, by Edith Wharton, 1905. The novel that put Wharton at the forefront of great American writers, it traces the fortunes of the beautiful Lily Bart as she navigates New York high society. 

Sandy Koufax: A Lefty’s Legacy, by Jane Leavy, 2002. An excellent portrait of Sandy Koufax, one of the best pitchers of the 1960’s, and the hold he continues to have on the public imagination. 

The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, by Tom Wolfe, 1968. Perhaps the definitive book on the American Hippie movement, chronicled by one of greatest American writers of the second half of the 20^th century. Are you on the bus or off the bus?

The Great Gatsby, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1925. I re-read Gatsby this year, and the novel still has great power. Fitzgerald’s masterpiece, it’s full of beautiful sentences and vivid images.

Book Review: The Crack-Up, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Edited by Edmund Wilson (1945)

The Crack-Up, by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Edited by Edmund Wilson (1945) on my Fitzgerald bookshelf, with Fitzgerald matchbooks in the front. (Photo by Mark C. Taylor)

F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1920's.

After his death in 1940, F. Scott Fitzgerald experienced a posthumous boost in popularity that has continued, pretty much unabated, to the present day. The Crack-Up, a 1945 collection edited by Fitzgerald’s friend Edmund Wilson, was one of the volumes that contributed to the elevation of Fitzgerald’s reputation. 

The book The Crack-Up takes its title from three autobiographical essays, “The Crack-Up,” “Pasting it Together,” and “Handle with Care,” that were published in Esquire magazine in February, March, and April of 1936, respectively. These essays presented F. Scott Fitzgerald at one of his lowest ebbs personally and professionally. 

What’s so remarkable about the “Crack-Up” essays in hindsight is not how much Fitzgerald tells us about his personal life, but how little. Thanks to numerous biographies of Fitzgerald, we now know much more about what was happening in his life at the time he wrote these essays, and it’s very clear that everything was falling apart. After his wife Zelda’s third mental breakdown in 1934, Scott was coming to terms with the fact that she would most likely never be “cured” and that they would probably never live together again. Fitzgerald was also experiencing writer’s block, and he felt as though he couldn’t go on pounding out short stories for The Saturday Evening Post anymore. Fitzgerald was grasping at straws for material in 1935, writing a story from the point of view of a dog, “Shaggy’s Morning,” and trying to write a series of short stories set in medieval France that he hoped to expand into a novel—the “Count of Darkness” series. Fitzgerald’s alcoholism, always problematic, was now totally out of control. Fitzgerald had a lot to be depressed about, but he doesn’t bring any of those problems into the essays. In the first essay, he specifically rules out drinking as a cause of any of his problems! And throughout the three essays he never refers to any of Zelda’s mental health issues. 

Reaction to the three essays at the time was mixed, to put it politely. Fitzgerald’s editor at Scribner’s, Maxwell Perkins, didn’t think the essays should have been published, which was why the book The Crack-Up was brought out by Edmund Wilson’s New Directions press instead. Other writers like Ernest Hemingway and John Dos Passos thought the essays showed weakness on Fitzgerald’s part by admitting that everything in his personal life wasn’t all sunshine and puppies. 

The Crack-Up essays include some of Fitzgerald’s most famous quotes:

“The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind at the same time, and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise.” (p.69)

“In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning, day after day.” (p.75) 

The Crack-Up also includes other personal essays that Fitzgerald wrote in the 1930’s, like his moving remembrance of the writer Ring Lardner, who was Fitzgerald’s neighbor in Great Neck, Long Island in the 1920’s. All of the essays are excellent and give the reader additional insight into this great writer’s interior life. Readers can also see some connections between the essays. In “The Crack-Up” Scott’s two great juvenile disappointments—not playing college football and not seeing combat in World War I—are the two fantasies that he uses to fall asleep in “Sleeping and Waking.” Two of the essays, “Show Mr. and Mrs. F to Number—“ and “Auction—Model 1934” were credited to Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, but we now know that they were written by Zelda and revised by Scott. They paint an interesting picture of the Fitzgeralds’ peripatetic existence during the 1920’s and 1930’s. 

After the essays, Edmund Wilson added a generous selection of material from Fitzgerald’s notebooks. Fitzgerald was always jotting down notes, and everything in his life was fair game to be included in his short stories or novels. At some point in the 1930’s he had his notes typed up and organized into alphabetical categories, ranging from “Anecdotes” to “Youth and Army.” It’s revealing of Fitzgerald’s interest in the fairer sex that one of the longest categories is “Descriptions of Girls.” Fitzgerald’s notebooks were published in book form in full in 1978, making the excerpts in The Crack-Up now seem somewhat superfluous. Why read 60% of the notebooks when you can read 100% of the notebooks elsewhere? 

Perhaps a better question would be; who is the target audience for the notebooks? For a devoted F. Scott Fitzgerald buff, they are a fascinating look into his writing process. That being said, reading them straight through is a bit tedious, and there are numerous entries that have a special meaning for only one person in the world: F. Scott Fitzgerald. I don’t know how interesting a casual Fitzgerald fan would find the notebooks, and I wouldn’t blame anyone for just skipping over them entirely. 

The Crack-Up also includes some of Fitzgerald’s letters, including several to Edmund Wilson, and numerous letters to his daughter Scottie. The Crack-Up was the first publication of any of Fitzgerald’s letters, and since that time, several collections of his letters have been published. Fitzgerald’s letters give us some sense of his personality, and you get an idea of his quicksilver intelligence and sharp mind. Fitzgerald was an astute observer of the human condition, and in his letters you get a sense of the charm, charisma, and vitality he must have exuded in person. 

Wilson included three letters from Gertrude Stein, Edith Wharton, and T.S. Eliot praising The Great Gatsby, and it’s interesting that even though the novel did not make a great splash among the reading public at the time, these notable authors saw that it was a remarkable piece of writing. Eliot wrote that it “seems to me to be the first step that American fiction has taken since Henry James.” (The Crack-Up, p.310) 

The Crack-Up also includes several essays about Fitzgerald and his writing. Paul Rosenfeld’s is quite interesting, as it’s from early 1925, just before The Great Gatsby was published. However, I think Rosenfeld underestimates Fitzgerald’s use of irony. Glenway Wescott’s essay, published after Fitzgerald’s death, is incisive about his writing, but also carries some of the condescension from critics that was so prevalent in Fitzgerald’s lifetime. Wescott writes: “I think Fitzgerald must have been the worst educated man in the world…When he was a freshman, did the seniors teach him a manly technique of drinking, with the price and penalty of the several degrees of excess of it?” (The Crack-Up, p.329) Well, no, I don’t think anyone taught Fitzgerald “a manly technique of drinking,” and even if someone did, it wouldn’t have necessarily helped him. Fitzgerald was an alcoholic, and it was an illness that he struggled with throughout his life. Learning how to drink safely wasn’t as easy as Wescott would like to have us imagine.

Wescott continues: “The rest of us, his writing friends and rivals, thought that he had the best narrative gift of the century. Did the English department at Princeton try to develop his admiration of that fact about himself, and make him feel the burden and the pleasure of it?” (The Crack-Up, p.329) So, it’s the fault of the English department at Princeton that Fitzgerald didn’t appreciate his own talent? That’s odd logic. How did Ernest Hemingway appreciate his own talent, since he never went to college and didn’t have professors to inform him of his skill? The English department at Princeton wasn’t exactly kindling the flame of literature in Scott’s heart. In a 1927 essay titled “Princeton,” Fitzgerald wrote that the university had “a surprisingly pallid English department, top-heavy, undistinguished and with an uncanny knack of making literature distasteful to young men.” (A Short Autobiography, p.97-8) When Fitzgerald was at Princeton, no attention was paid to American literature. As he wrote in a book review, “No one of my English professors in college ever suggested to his class that books were being written in America.” (FSF In His Own Time, p.126) If the great books weren’t being written in America, why would his professors have paid attention to Fitzgerald’s writing?

There is plenty of excellent writing on display throughout The Crack-Up, and while Fitzgerald left us with a significant body of work for his short time on this planet, there is sadness in reading The Crack-Up as well. With Fitzgerald I can’t help but wonder what might have been. What if Scott had been allotted more time than a mere 44 trips around the sun? Would the brilliant passages in his notebooks have worked their way into more timeless novels and short stories? We can only imagine.

Concert Review: Rufus Wainwright at the State Theatre "All These Poses" tour

Poster for Rufus Wainwright at the State Theatre in Minneapolis on the "All These Poses" tour, with Rachel Eckroth opening, 2018.

Last month my wife and I saw Rufus Wainwright at the State Theatre in Minneapolis on his “All These Poses” tour. The tour celebrates the 20^th anniversary of his debut album. During the first half of the show, Wainwright and his band performed almost all of 1998’s Rufus Wainwright, and then after an intermission Wainwright played 2001’s Poses from start to finish. My wife and I have seen Wainwright perform several times over the years, and his recent shows in Minnesota have been fantastic, including his 2017 holiday show at Orchestra Hall, and his summer solo concert at the Minnesota Zoo. In addition to possessing an astounding voice and being a superb pianist, Wainwright is also a charismatic and funny live performer. 

For me personally, I enjoyed the second half of the concert more, simply because I’m more familiar with Poses than Rufus Wainwright. I think Wainwright’s songwriting grew and improved a lot between the two albums, and the songs from Poses are the ones that get stuck in my head. Of course, there are still good songs on Rufus Wainwright, like “Foolish Love.” At the end of the first half of the concert Rufus sang a simply beautiful version of Joni Mitchell’s “Both Sides Now” that highlighted what an amazing voice he has. Wainwright has such a beautiful voice that if all he did was play the piano and sing covers, I would still be writing about how amazing he is. But of course he’s also a fantastic songwriter as well. Rufus closed the first half with a new song titled “The Sword of Damocles.” 

The second half began with “Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk,” the first song on Poses, and it was a unique feeling to hear this song, usually a concert closer, so early in the evening. The rest of Poses followed, and I was reminded again what a great album it is. For the encore, Rufus went back to his first album for “Imaginary Love,” then followed that up with the always relevant “Going to a Town,” with its refrain of “I’m so tired of you, America.” Wainwright ended the evening singing his cover of the Beatles’ “Across the Universe,” which was beautiful and stirring. Wainwright’s band was excellent as they flawlessly switched gears among Wainwright’s many different musical styles. I was very excited when the band took the stage to see that Gerry Leonard was the lead guitar player. I know of Leonard from his work with David Bowie, and I saw him on stage earlier this year at the “Celebrating David Bowie” concert. 

Opening the show for Wainwright was keyboardist Rachel Eckroth. She had a daunting task in front of her, opening solo and playing somewhat delicate and quiet songs, but she did a great job, and held the audience’s attention for her entire set. She then was part of Wainwright’s backing band. Her new album is called When It Falls, and she’s someone to keep your eye on if you like indie music.

Concert Review: Elvis Costello and the Imposters at Northrop Auditorium

Poster for the "Look Now and Then" tour, Elvis Costello and the Imposters, 2018.

Last month I saw Elvis Costello and the Imposters live at Northrop Auditorium on the “Look Now and Then” tour. It was an excellent show, as Costello roared through 30 songs during two and a half hours. The songs covered Costello’s entire career, ranging from “Alison” to several songs from Look Now, his new album that came out in October 2018. Costello has forged a career as one of the great songwriters of the rock era. He’s also mystified critics, and occasionally the public, with his stylistic leaps as he’s made albums of country covers, and collaborated with everyone from Paul McCartney, Allen Toussaint, Burt Bacharach, and Anne Sofie von Otter. 

Costello is a passionate live performer, and he remains in excellent voice. Costello’s guitar playing in concert is always a treat, and he took several lengthy solos. The Imposters are a pretty fantastic band, as they are made up of keyboardist Steve Nieve and drummer Pete Thomas, both of whom were in Costello’s backing band the Attractions, and Davey Faragher on bass. The Imposters were also joined by Kitten Kuroi and Briana Lee on backing vocals. 

The setlist was full of deep cuts from Costello’s albums, but familiar favorites like “Every Day I Write the Book,” “Veronica,” and “Pump it Up” were scattered throughout as well. All in all, it was a memorable evening spent in the company of one of the greatest songwriters of our time.

Album Review: Frank Sinatra A Voice on Air: 1935-1955 (2015)

The 2015 Frank Sinatra box set A Voice on Air: 1935-1955.

Frank Sinatra on NBC, 1940's.

Frank Sinatra hosted and appeared on many radio shows throughout the 1940’s and 1950’s. On many of these radio shows he sang songs that he never recorded on any of his singles or albums. In addition, many of the songs on these radio performances featured different arrangements from when Sinatra recorded the songs for Columbia or Capitol. 

The 107 tracks on the 2015 4-CD set A Voice on Air: 1935-1955 feature many rare Sinatra performances from the era when Sinatra was first taking the world by storm. One of the most amazing rarities the set features is Sinatra’s very first performance on radio. On September 8, 1935, NBC’s Major Bowes’ Amateur Hour featured the Hoboken Four singing “S-H-I-N-E.” The Hoboken Four was comprised of James Petrozelli, Pat Principle, Fred Tamburro, and a skinny 19-year-old named Francis Albert Sinatra. You can’t tell from that one performance that you’re listening to a singer who would have such a huge effect on American music, but the Sinatra tone is still recognizable, even then. Side note: during the Rat Pack years, one of Sinatra’s insults for someone without talent was “the original Major Bowes Amateur Hour loser.” 

The bulk of the recordings on A Voice on Air come from the 1940’s, a decade when Sinatra became a household name and the idol of bobbysoxers across the country. The Sinatra of the 1940’s possessed a warm baritone voice that had a strikingly pure tone. The intimacy of Sinatra’s vocal delivery was a key to his appeal—by some magical trick, it felt as though he was singing directly to the listener. And since much of Sinatra’s repertoire was comprised of tender love songs like “I’ll Never Smile Again” or “Close to You,” it’s no wonder teenage girls went nuts for him. (Another 2015 Sinatra release, Frank Sinatra Lost and Found: The Radio Years, which I reviewed here, features 23 more previously unreleased radio performances.) 

Some of the highlights of the four discs include a duet of “Exactly Like You” with Nat “King” Cole, a delightful pairing with hipster king Slim Gaillard on his novelty song “Cement Mixer,” and “You Brought a New Kind of Love to Me” with the always superb Peggy Lee. There’s also a 1947 recording of Sinatra singing “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” with the composer Irving Berlin, which is a very cool historical moment. A Voice on Air also features early recordings of songs that would later become indelibly associated with Sinatra, like a 1944 recording of “The Way You Look Tonight,” cut twenty years before Sinatra’s now definitive 1964 take on that classic song. Some of the highlights for me were found towards the very end of Disc 4, in a series of radio shows from 1953 and 1955 that feature Sinatra backed by a small group. By this time we’ve moved into the era that most people consider “classic Sinatra,” and Sinatra is noticeably looser and more relaxed in his phrasing. Also featured throughout A Voice on Air are tons of cigarette ads, as Old Gold and Lucky Strike cigarettes were two big sponsors of Sinatra’s radio shows. Oh, the good old days! 

I would recommend A Voice on Air to anyone who is a fan of Sinatra’s music of the 1940’s and 1950’s. The sound quality on almost all of the songs is superb, and on the songs where it’s less than superb, the producers can be forgiven because of the rarity of the performances. Two of the producers were Charles L. Granata, author of the excellent Sessions with Sinatra, one of the key books for understanding Frank Sinatra as a recording artist, and the singer and pianist Michael Feinstein, who is one of the great champions of the Great American Songbook, and of music preservation in general. When I was a youngster, Michael Feinstein’s music was one of my first gateways into the world of the Great American Songbook, and for that I am forever grateful.