Book Review: The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe, by William B. Wisdom (1988)

The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe is a slim volume, written by William B. Wisdom and published by the Thomas Wolfe Society in 1988. Among Thomas Wolfe fans, William B. Wisdom is an exalted figure. It was Wisdom who bought Wolfe's manuscripts and papers and donated them to Harvard University, where they currently reside in the Houghton Library. 

Wisdom met Thomas Wolfe when he was living in New Orleans, and Wolfe visited the city in January of 1937. Wisdom already thought that Wolfe was the greatest American author of his generation, and he was ecstatic when he learned that Wolfe was in town. Wisdom then contrived to spend as much time as possible with Wolfe. 

Wolfe comes out of the book very well, as he is polite, kind, and indulgent of Wisdom's desire to hang out with him. Wisdom is completely star-struck by Wolfe, which he admits, and he comes off as a bit of a pest and a weirdo. Not dangerous or anything, mind you, but just a bit too intense. 

It's tricky. Wisdom has one shot, or actually more than one, since Wolfe keeps hanging out with him, to tell his hero that he thinks he is the most important writer in America today. But every time Wisdom tries to draw Wolfe out about his own writing, Wolfe clams up, or deflects the line of questioning. I can't really blame either man for acting the way they do. If I had one opportunity to tell F. Scott Fitzgerald what his writing has meant to me, I'd probably turn into the same obsessive fan that Wisdom comes off as. But that being said, what is Wolfe supposed to say when Wisdom tells him he's the most important American writer? That's a bit of a conversation stopper. 

In my limited conversations with notable people, I've found it's better to under praise than over praise. Honestly, they've probably heard so many people tell them how great they are that it doesn't mean anything anymore. The first time I met Robyn Hitchcock, way back in 2009, I earnestly told him that I thought he was one of the greatest songwriters of our time. He laughed and said, "Well, I'm certainly one of the oldest." I had made a statement that gave him no real way to react. I had made a huge blanket statement declaring my true fandom. And what was Robyn Hitchcock supposed to say back to me? So, he deflected it with a joke. I've never had the opportunity to have an extended conversation with Robyn Hitchcock, but the times I’ve met him since then I've tried to just be a little more relaxed, a little more normal. After a show while he's signing autographs I'll say, "I've seen you a bunch of times and always enjoyed it," or tell him I was glad he played a specific song. And that works. He can say “Thank you very much,” and we can both go on our way, neither one embarrassed. 

Wisdom’s story about how he met Wolfe is fascinating. Wisdom had learned from a friend that Wolfe was in town, and shortly after learning that fact, Wisdom saw Wolfe walking down the street. Their eyes locked, and they started a conversation. Connection made. Wisdom later had lunch with Wolfe and another writer, E.P. “Pat” O’Donnell, who had recently published a novel titled Green Margins that was quite successful. 

Wisdom writes about having lunch with Wolfe: “I tried several times, without avail, to get Tom to talk about himself. It was no go. Nor would he discuss his books.” (p.28) 

One of the interesting tidbits about Thomas Wolfe was this one: “He said that one of his favorite books and undoubtedly the most interesting, was the World Almanac, that it contained more things of interest than anybody he knew.” (p.30) I found that quite interesting and could perhaps help to explain Wolfe’s love of lists in his writing. 

Wisdom asked Wolfe what he thought of several contemporary writers. About F. Scott Fitzgerald, Wolfe said only “Poor Scott.” (p.49) Scott was going through a pretty terrible period in his life in early 1937, so Wolfe’s comment was quite accurate. 

Wisdom even admits to the reader that he opened a note that Wolfe wanted him to deliver, then Wisdom re-copied the note so he could keep the original note in his collection! I’m not quite sure what the ethics on that are, but Wolfe never learned of Wisdom’s deception. 

The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe is an interesting little volume for fans of Wolfe. 

Concert Review: Aaron Neville at the Dakota Jazz Club

Singer Aaron Neville

Last night I saw the legendary soul singer Aaron Neville at the Dakota Jazz Club in Minneapolis. I’ve known who Aaron Neville is for a very long time, but I had never seen him in concert before. Neville performed with his pianist Michael Goods, and together they kept the audience at the Dakota spellbound for 90 minutes. 

Neville is known for his distinctive high voice, and it stills sounds pretty darn good at age 78. There’s no mistaking Aaron Neville’s voice for anyone else’s. Although Neville was seated behind a keyboard for the entire show, he only played a few opening chords to some songs. To his left was a music stand with a huge notebook filled with lyrics. Neville didn’t share that many stories during the concert, which surprised me. He’s certainly had a lengthy career in the music business. 

Neville opened the show with a medley of songs from the 1950’s and 1960’s: Ben E. King’s “Stand by Me,” Sam Cooke’s “Cupid” and “Chain Gang,” and the Drifters’ “There Goes My Baby.” Neville sang his big hits, “Don’t Know Much,” his hit duet with Linda Ronstadt, and “Tell It Like It Is,” with the former appearing early in the set, and the latter being one of the last songs of the evening. In between, Neville sang a mixture of songs, most of which were familiar to me, and most dating from the 1950’s and 1960’s. Some highlights were “Pledging My Love,” first sung by Johnny Ace and later covered by Elvis Presley, and Leonard Cohen’s “Bird on a Wire.” Neville sang two songs made famous by Nat King Cole, “Mona Lisa,” and “When I Fall in Love.” For those two songs, Goods switched to an electric keyboard, rather than the acoustic piano, and to me the keyboard ended up sounding like a cheap synthesizer. 

I was secretly hoping that Neville would play some songs by the great New Orleans songwriter Allen Toussaint, but that didn’t happen. Neville gave us lovely versions of Johnny Mathis’ “Chances Are,” and James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain.” Neville is an outstanding ballad singer, and it was fun to see such a legendary singer in such a small venue.

Concert Review: Harry Connick, Jr. at the State Theatre

Harry Connick, Jr.

In May, Harry Connick, Jr. brought his excellent show to the State Theatre in Minneapolis. I’ve seen Connick in concert several times before, and he always puts on a great show. He’s the definition of an entertainer. Connick’s versatility was on full display in concert, as he sang, played the piano, joked with the crowd, and clearly had a great time. Connick is full of charisma and easy charm, and it's hard to imagine anyone not having fun at one of his concerts. His band, as usual, was superb. 

Connick even lost a contact lens in the middle of the show, so he brought up a woman on stage to use a mirror to help him put it back in. That didn’t work, but Harry went on with the show anyway.

Connick performed a variety of songs throughout the show. He opened the show with several standards, “Without a Song,” “Just the Way You Look Tonight,” and “Just in Time,” before moving on to several songs associated with his hometown of New Orleans, like “Junco Partner.” Connick’s good friend trombonist Lucien Barbarin came out for a few numbers, and he and Connick had each other in hysterics multiple times. Connick even sang "Our Love is Here to Stay," from his breakthrough album, the soundtrack to When Harry Met Sally.

The concert dragged a little bit when Connick and guitarist Jonathan DuBose, Jr. dueted on a long, slow version of “How Great Thou Art,” but other than that the set list was excellent, and the concert ended with Connick paying tribute to a fellow New Orleans pianist, the late great Allen Toussaint, by singing “Yes We Can Can.” It was a fun evening filled with a lot of great music.