This volume, written in the 1980s, is a survey of patterns of immigration into urban areas of the United States between 1830-1930 (approximately.) It covers those who came to stay, those who just came to get a nest egg to improve life in their home country, and those who intended to go back but just never got around to it. Mr. Bodnar was and still is a professor of history at Indiana University.
The general theme of this book seems to be “it’s complicated.” The immigrant experience was not uniform, with their reactions and outcomes varying considerably depending on their initial motivations for emigration, the areas they came from, their initial social class and starting capital, and what part of America they ended up in. Trying to fit the immigrants into a single narrative that fits a particular philosophy doesn’t really work, according to Professor Bodnar.
It’s pretty dry stuff, starting with a chapter on the countries immigrants came from and focusing on when various regions had their largest numbers go. This isn’t a book for the casual reader.
The most interesting chapter for me was on religion and how their faiths both influenced how immigrants adapted to American life, and were forced to adapt themselves. Often there were clashes between those who felt they were (ethnicity) first, (religion) second, and those (especially religious leaders) who felt the reverse. One example was Slovak immigrants who were suspicious of their priests and ministers who preached in favor of Hungarian rule of the homeland. (It was later confirmed that the Austro-Hungarian Empire did indeed pay off religious leaders to spout pro-Hungarian propaganda in the U.S.)
Another conflict that often came up was between the urge to embrace Americanization and blend into their new society, and the fear of losing the unique cultural elements of their homeland or religious beliefs. This often led to a preference for parochial or ethnicity-based schools rather than putting children into the public school system.
There are extensive end notes, a bibliography and index, as well as a handful of black-and-white pictures.
Again, this isn’t a book for the casual reader, but is best suited for college students and up who are doing serious research on the subject of immigration. For most people, I’d recommend one of the many fine memoirs of immigrant families available at your local library.
Right up front, I have to say that the title is the most annoying thing about this book. Did anyone ever use “rad” as an adjective unironically? That said, “radical” is not an unfair term to apply to many of the women whose short biographies are written in this volume. There are forty stories set around 30 “countries”, starting with Enheduanna of Mesopotamia, the first named author that we have records of, and wrapping around the globe to Emma Goldman, born in Russia, anarchist and advocate for worker’s rights.
This is a sequel to Rad American Women A-Z by the same creators; the greater scope allows them to have more variety. There are scientists, athletes and entertainers, politicians and even a princess! The book is written for middle-grade girls, but some of the subject matter may be difficult for more sensitive readers. (A couple of these biographies moved me to tears.) Many of the women covered I had heard of before, but a few were new to me.
The papercut illustrations by Miriam Klein Stahl give the book a distinctive, rough-hewn look; it also ties the appearance of the volume together better than a mix of photographs and paintings might have, as there are both historical and contemporary women covered.
This book also wears its politics on its sleeve, obvious in the selection of women to write about. Politically conservative parents might find it uncomfortable that Kasha Jacqueline Nagabasera (fights for gay rights in Uganda) and Buffy Sainte-Marie (anti-war activist) get full entries while such right-wing icons as Margaret Thatcher and Mother Teresa don’t even make the 250 honorable mentions in the back. The poem about “the stateless”, refugees, exiles and others torn from their homelands includes the line “No human being is illegal.”
As is common in collections of short biographies, only the highlights of any given woman’s life are included, and edited according to the author’s intent. Many of these women were controversial during their lifetimes, and some of them are still controversial now. A reader who takes a particular interest in one of the subjects would be well advised to seek out more complete biographies. I’ve previously reviewed biographies of King Hatshepsut http://www.skjam.com/2016/01/20/book-review-the-woman-who-would-be-king-hatshepsuts-rise-to-power-in-ancient-egypt/ and Queen Lili’uokalani http://www.skjam.com/2014/02/21/book-review-lost-kingdom-hawaiis-last-queen-the-sugar-kings-and-americas-first-imperial-adventure/ , for example.
I expect that this book will end up in a lot of elementary school libraries. I’d also recommend this volume to parents of middle-grade kids (yes, boys too, to go with their many books about famous men) with the caveat (or bonus!) that you might want to sit down with them to discuss some of the topics that will come up.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from Blogging for Books for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was offered or requested.
Manga Review: Showa 1926 1939 a History of Japan by Shigeru Mizuki
This is the first volume of Shigeru Mizuki’s massive history of Japan during the reign of Emperor Hirohito, the “Showa Era,” It was a long reign, covering most of the Twentieth Century, from 1926-1989. In addition to the larger story of Japan, it is also his autobiography, as Mizuki’s earliest childhood memories coincide with the beginning of that era.
This volume opens several years earlier, with the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 which devastated Tokyo. The repercussions of this, combined with fiscal mismanagement, created a financial crisis that crippled Japan’s economy. The optimism and liberalization of the Taisho period took a huge hit. Japan struggled along until 1929 and the worldwide effects of the Great Depression hit.
A combination of the Red Scare (the belief that Communists were about to take over), military successes and government incompetence led to the rise of right-wing organizations, especially military cliques. Japan became ever more aggressive against its neighbors in Asia, setting up the puppet state of Manchukuo and grabbing ever more territory from China.
Japan became a rogue state, leaving the League of Nations when that body attempted to intervene in its conquests. Only Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy recognized Manchukuo, and Japan’s alliance with those nations was about to drag it into World War Two.
This is a “warts and all” history, which covers events that many Japanese schoolkids might not be taught in official classes, or have glossed over for them. There are many painful topics in here, so despite childish hijinks in the parts dealing with Shigeru’s early life, I would recommend it for senior high school students and up.
Warts and all is also how Mizuki depicts himself as a child and young man. Naturally athletic but lazy, bright but unmotivated, sensitive but engaging in fights both as part of a gang and solo. It will take the horrors of war (as depicted in the third volume) to force him into a responsible adult life. Perhaps he got some of it from his father, who is shown as a Micawber-like optimist despite his economic woes.
There’s a lot of names and dates, so the end-notes are very helpful–you still might want to have Wikipedia open to assist with some of the more obscure bits and to cross-reference what else was going on in the world at the time. Some bits come across as very dry, making the personal stories a relief.
The art may be jarring for those unused to Mizuki’s style; many pages are drawn directly from photographs in a realistic style, while others are done in a very loose, cartoony fashion. It’s also kind of weird to have Nezumi-Otoko (Rat-man) as the narrator of the more serious history portion-he would not seem the most reliable of narrators.
Overall, not as interesting as the third volume, which features Shigeru’s most harrowing experiences, but well worth seeking out from the library.
Padma Mehta used to work for The Man. That is, WalWa, one of the Big Three megacorporations that own most of Occupied Space. She was good at her job, too, despite the shabby treatment she often got. Then Bad Things happened, and Padma Breached, breaking her indenture contract to join the Union on Santee.
Now Padma’s a Ward Head for the Union in Brushhead, one of the neighborhoods in Santee Landing. But now she has other plans–the owner of the distillery that makes Padma’s favorite rum “Old Windswept” is retiring, and Padma wants to buy that distillery to make sure the sanity-restoring drink remains made just the right way. But to do that, Padma must fill job Slots for the Union, and that means finding new Breaches to take those Slots. When a mining ship disaster kills the discontented workers she was counting on, Padma is forced to accept a deal with small time con artist Vytai Bloombeck, who knows where some other Breaches are coming to the planet.
Except, of course, that there are five Breaches (six if you count the corpse), not forty, and rival ward head Evanrute Saarien is determined to steal even those to add to his own credit with the Union. And things just continue to go downhill from there, with disgruntled Union workers, corporate assassins and a deadly cane blight all making Padma’s life even more awful than she perhaps deserves. The only people that might be on Padma’s side are rogue cab driver Jilly and recently Breached lawyer Banks, and that might just be because they don’t know her well enough.
This science fiction novel is set in a future that’s not the worst possible outcome, but is full of broken systems. Yes, being a corporate Indenture means that you get many benefits, like the “pai” (never actually explained but probably short for “personal assistant implant”) hooked up to your optic nerve to allow wireless communication among other neat features. But the Big Three tend to cheap out on the actual quality of the benefits, and every upgrade comes with more time on your indenture.
The Union is no bed of roses either; there’s a bunch of low-level job Slots that need filling, and rookies go straight into things like sewer cleaning and hull scraping, regardless of actual skill set. Getting into better Slots takes the ability to convince the Union you’re worthy, and new Breaches coming in to take the lowest Slots. (Bloombeck’s been stuck in the sewers for decades because no one likes him enough to find him a better Slot.)
Padma has a lot of flaws, some of which are related to the mental illness that she got during her service to WalWa. Old Windswept is the only effective treatment she’s found for The Fear, so that’s her top priority. Unfortunately, Santee has fallen off the main trade routes, so fewer ships are coming for the cane, molasses and galaxy’s best rum, and thus fewer Breaches to feed her kitty and let her workers rise in the ranks. As a result of her worries about this, Padma has not kept her ear to the ground about various developing situations around the colony, and that comes back to bite her repeatedly.
Something else that bites Padma is her habit of assuming people she meets have always been what they are when she meets them. More than one person has a secret past that has bearing on current events. Other people turn out to be exactly what Padma thinks they are, which may be worse.
Once the ball gets rolling, it’s pretty much non-stop peril for Padma and her crew, only getting breathing space to set up more peril. There’s a fair amount of violence, but more disturbing in its implications than graphic.
There’s no romance subplot, but Padma does have plot-relevant casual sex towards the beginning of the story. Perhaps the happiest part of the ending is that Padma’s a better person than she was before everything happened, even if she didn’t exactly get what she wanted.
Other characters develop depth of personality only by what Padma sees them do, as makes sense in a first-person narrative. Banks is far more complex than he initially seems, while Jilly is young and rather callow, but learning fast. Other characters…well, that’d be spoilers.
At least one scene is designed to be in the potential movie version, as lampshaded by the characters in it talking about the movies they’ve seen and whether this is actually something that could happen in real life.
I enjoyed the book and the characters–it’s not often a battle-scarred, middle-aged woman of South Asian descent is the protagonist in an action novel. (However, the treatment of her mental illness may not be fully accurate; I am not qualified to tell.)
Recommended to fans of science fiction action, and rum drinkers.
Book Review: Famous Nathan by Lloyd Handwerker and Gil Reavill
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book through a Goodreads giveaway for the purpose of writing this review. No other compensation was requested or given.
Nathan’s Famous was the number one hot dog stand in the world for several decades, and synonymous with the Coney Island experience. It was the creation of Nathan (originally Nachum) Handwerker, an immigrant who worked his way up from grinding poverty to being a successful businessman. This book is primarily his story, told by his grandson.
According to the book, Nathan was born in a Jewish shtetl in Galicia (now part of Poland) in 1892. At the time, the region was occupied by Austria, and was proverbial for its inhabitants’ poverty. His father Jacob was a shoemaker who was usually unemployed and his mother sold vegetables as a sideline whenever the chance came up. Nathan grew up constantly hungry and early on decided he wanted to be in the restaurant business. Over time, his hard work and good business sense got him enough money to buy passage to America in 1912.
To make it in business, you need a strong work ethic, canny business sense…and a walloping dose of good luck. Nathan had all three, and by 1916 had learned enough English and accumulated enough savings to open his own “grab joint” selling frankfurters and lemonade from a tiny storefront on Coney Island. His initial partner backed out when initial sales weren’t good, but Nathan found a good price point and soon became able to stay open all year, expanding the store and his menu bit by bit.
After a year or so, the initially nameless joint became “Nathan’s”, and then “Nathan’s Famous” as business boomed. Nathan used a business philosophy of fast service, a limited menu and consistent high quality to grow his enterprise. (This was later independently discovered by the McDonalds brothers, though the highness of quality is debatable.)
A big believer in family, Nathan brought over almost all of his clan from Europe as well as marrying and having children of his own. He didn’t let nepotism stand in the way of good business practice, though, once firing his older brother the same day he hired him for failure to follow procedure. He was a very hands-on manager, and ran a tight ship; his contentious personality meant that he often fought with his top workers, but it also bred loyalty. He integrated his staff very early on and was generous with benefits, but was firmly against unions.
Nathan’s Famous was huge, and the book describes its interactions with American history. But by the time Nathan’s sons Sol and Murray moved into management positions under him, times were changing. The brothers had clashing ideas about where the store and its brand should be going, and did not work together well. Coney Island was losing its place as a tourist attraction, helped along by a city planner who wanted to gentrify the area. (Unfortunately, his plans had the opposite effect, crashing the local economy and increasing crime.) And chain fast food places became the standard.
The original Nathan’s Famous has never closed, but is no longer in family hands, and in the modern day, it’s more famous as a hot dog brand than as a destination.
Most of the material about Nathan’s early life is derived from a single interview done with him by another of his grandsons, so should be taken with a grain of salt. The book also talks about some Nathan’s Famous legends and whether they are based on truth or the result of a public relations campaign.
There’s quite a bit of time spent on the logistics and mechanics of running a grab joint in the early part of the Twentieth Century, which will be useful to people who have always wondered about that sort of thing. There’s also family drama, as well as details about some of the long-time employees.
To be honest, the book never really grabbed me, but I think it will be of great interest to hot dog aficionados and those who are nostalgic for the Nathan’s Famous of yore. Each chapter has a black and white photo heading. Also, there are end notes (functional but lackluster) and a bibliography for further reading.
Magazine Review: Gamma 3 edited by Charles E. Fritch
Gamma was a short-lived science fiction magazine (five issues in 1963-64), known for high-quality cover art and snagging stories from authors connected with the film industry. (Indeed, I picked up this issue because of the sweet Morris Scott Dollens art.) It was digest-sized and relatively thin. Let’s look at the contents!
“The Girl of Paradise Planet” by Robert Turner concerns retired millionaire George Prentiss. He and his third wife Evvie have come to the title planet on a long vacation (her idea.) Bored, Robert has taken up underwater swimming with future SCUBA gear. This world is not supposed to have any native intelligent life, but then where did that water-breathing naked girl come from? Is George having hallucinations from the water pressure, or is he just going insane?
Over the course of the story, we learn that George is a self-made man who spent his youth starting a business, growing that business and getting rich, so he didn’t look for romance until middle age, and three times went for trophy wives, none of whom have worked out. Which is okay…except that the possibly imaginary Irlana comes across as a Manic Pixie Dream Girl whose function is to rekindle his love of life (and is younger and prettier than Evvie.)
Mr. Turner was an experienced author, but this was his first time writing science fiction, and I can tell. He’s certainly no climatologist, and the ending twist relies on most of the characters forgetting a perfectly logical explanation for events that would be common knowledge to them, even if the reader wouldn’t know it.
“The Feather Bed” by Shelley Lowenkopf presents a bizarre future in which the economy runs on make-work. For example, three years after a building is built, all the piping is torn out and replaced just to give the plumbing crews something to do. This extends to writing as well. Every 37 years, all extant editions of Shakespeare are destroyed, and replaced with “newly written” versions by living authors. Except that it’s just retyping the whole thing verbatim. And the same goes for all other works of fiction by dead writers.
Lew has had it with the system–he doesn’t want to “rewrite” King Lear again, and on the union points system, it will be years before he’s allowed to write more of the original fiction that made him a successful author in the first place. Unfortunately, he’s just one man against the system, and winds up causing even the FBI to intervene. If Lew sticks to his principles, he could lose everything, including the writing he really wants to do.
“Angel Levine” by Bernard Malamud stars Jewish tailor Manischevitz, who is going through hard times. His shop burned down, and the insurance money was eaten by customer lawsuits. His son died in the war, and his daughter ran off with a man and never communicates. He’s got chronic pain, and his wife Rosie is dying. Manischevitz asks God for assistance, but when an “angel” named Levine shows up, there are reasons the tailor is unconvinced. It’s ultimately a story about belief in the face of your assumptions about people. There is racism and anti-Semitism in the story. (This one was reprinted from one of the author’s collections.)
“The (In)visible Man” by Edward W. Ludwig is a fantasy about James Smith, who has become socially invisible. He’s finally decided to exploit that fact, but one person has finally become able to see him, and that is both Mr. Smith’s weakness and best hope. It’s a fairly sweet story, helped along by James Smith, even when he turns criminal, sticking to a “least harm” principle. There is an attempted suicide in the story.
“Inside Story” by Miriam Allen deFord takes place in a far future when the Galactic Federation sends scouts to find new worlds that one of their myriad species can live on and isn’t already inhabited by intelligent life. These planets are exceedingly rare. It looks, however, like this one might be ideal. Presuming the scout party doesn’t find any surprises like rapid inexplicable temperature variations….
In this future, scout ships have mixed-sex crews, but this is because every member of that crew is a different non-compatible species. The twist ending is suitably bizarre.
“The Birth” by George Clayton Johnson is a retelling of a classic story from a different perspective. See how long it takes you to figure out which one!
“Buttons” by Raymond E. Banks concerns John Burke, a starship officer who is forced by disaster to upload his mind to a computer memory storage system. Supposedly, he will have his mind reinserted into his human body once that’s fixed. But that procedure has a high failure rate, and Burke is rapidly discovering the advantages of being a disembodied intelligence. There’s some relatively early thought about the benefits versus possible hazards of transhumanism.
“Society for the Prevention” by Ron Goulart is a humorous piece about the travails of a interplanetary surplus store manager. He’s just gotten a large shipment of extremely ugly wicker urns, the natives of the planet have organized a violent “Shop Local” campaign, and the newly arrived Young Girls Space Police and Welfare Committee officer suspects him of being in cahoots with the inventor of a death ray. Everything more or less works out in the end, but now the store manager has to try to explain to his boss why the urns didn’t get sold. The female Space Police officer is treated as a joke–admittedly so is everyone else, but it may not sit well with some readers, as part of the joke is that women are completely unsuited for the work.
The final story is “The Snail Watcher” by Patricia Highsmith. This creepy tale is about a man who gets a little too fascinated with the reproductive habits of snails, not noticing that these particular snails are reproducing much more rapidly than is anywhere near normal.
Interior art is by Luan Metheringham, who sadly seems to have completely dropped out of sight with only her Gamma appearances known.
There is also an interview with “Ivan Kirov” about the state of Soviet science fiction in the early 1960s. He declined to have his real name published for security reasons. Per the interview, SF in the USSR was beginning to blossom after being suppressed during the Stalinist years. Noted was a tendency for “nuts and bolts” stories of adventure, with little of the social or psychological exploration that had become common in Western nations’ science fiction. (At the time, the government censors were big on Soviet Communism going worldwide being the only possible future, and writers were expected to get on board with that.)
The Banks story is the one that I liked best, though the Highsmith story was also effective. Worth seeking out if you’re a fan of either author or the cover artist.
Book Review: Infinity Two edited by Robert Hoskins
Infinity was a series of paperback science fiction anthologies from Lancer Books in the early 1970s. Its primary draw was that all the stories were new, not having been previously printed in magazines. By this point, science fiction writers were allowed to mention sex and other controversial topics (thank you, Dangerous Visions) but they did not always do so in a healthy manner.
The introduction, “The Alien Among Us”, talks about ecology and pollution, and the possibility that some force is trying to kill off the human race.
“Murphy’s Hall” by Poul and Karen Anderson is one of the more experimental pieces, tying together several failed space missions and the miserable life of a boy left behind on Earth. Depressing ending, but one that seems all too plausible now.
“The Monster in the Clearing” by Michael Fayette is an Adam and Eve story, with a computer giving instructions on how not to screw up humanity’s second chance. The National Rifle Association is one of the things the new god plans to ban. However, when did humans ever do what they were supposed to?
“The Scents of IT” by J.F. Bone stars Xar Qot, a member of the Mallian species, which are essentially sentient lobsters with a society based on cannibalism. When a couple of pesky visitors come to the planet, Xar Qot sees a way to help his human ally George Banks, and advance his own ambitions. I’m going to talk about this story and some possibly triggery subject matter in the Spoilers section below.
“The Road to Cinnabar” by Ed Bryant is another experimental piece, this one about a labor organizer in a far future city that seems to be dying. The ending is kind of blah, with a bit of philosophy.
“The Technological Revolution” by James E. Gunn is a horror piece when a woman’s labor-saving devices all go on the fritz at once. Is there a conspiracy of the machines to kill her, or is the ghost of her Luddite grandmother running a false flag operation?
“Elephants” by K.M. O’Donnell is a depressing piece about the last circus performance of the universe–very stylistic and fatalistic.
“The Other Way Around” by Howard L. Myers is set in the Dark Ages, as a teller of tales tracks down Merlin. Merlin is not what you’d imagine, and he’s discovered a terrible truth about time travel. Also kind of depressing.
“Legion” by Russell Bates continues the trend of depressing stories as a multiple transplant recipient is unable to cope with what has happened to him.
“Gorf! Gorf! Gorf!” by William F. Nolan is at the other end of the seriousness spectrum, as a frog eats a bunch of growth pellets and grows to kaiju size. Now the government needs to try to solve the problem. The story abruptly moves from New York to California and backin a nonsensical way, and the ending is an anticlimax.
“Timesprawl” by Anthon Warden is back to depressing. A recently unemployed man gets the chance to relive the last year of his life, which he plans to use to take revenge–but there’s an icky twist.
“In Entropy’s Jaws” by Robert Silverberg has a telepath come unstuck in time with random fugues of flashback and flashforward. Unlike some of the other stories here, Mr. Silverberg makes the experimental format work well for him. Probably the best story in this volume.
“Reunion” by Arthur C. Clarke closes out the book with the return of the human race’s true progenitors. It seems they have a cure for the plague that made them flee millenia ago…but will the Earthlings want it? Edgy then, kind of silly now.
Overall, a mediocre collection, I’d recommend it to Silverberg completeists and garage sale pickups and not much else.
So, “The Scents of IT“. Mr. Bone was a professor of Veterinary Medicine, which may explain the focus on alien biology. This is clearly meant to be a silly pun-based story, but it turns out to be really problematic by today’s standards. We learn that the evil feminists have triumphed and turned humanity into a matriarchal society (more like a thin veneer of matriarchy over an egalitarian society, really.) George Banks laments that social conditioning prevents him from just raping the woman he wants.
The woman in question is Shirley Copenhaver, who despite being so pretty even sentient lobsters can tell, refuses to give George Banks (or any other man) the sex he deserves. Banks is also upset with her because she’s an ethnologist who does her job, studying alien cultures and writing books about them. Which indirectly resulted in the destruction of one such culture when a corporate entrepreneur read the book and realized how to commercially exploit them. Why Banks doesn’t blame the entrepreneur who actually did the deed is unclear.
Xar Qot realizes that the pheromone male Mallians exude that allows them to dominate and predate upon the more numerous females also works to some extent on human women. So he sets up a situation where Banks can “seduce” (commit chemically-assisted rape) Copenhaver, as apparently Banks doesn’t consider this to be rape.
The next day, when Copenhaver has recovered her senses and is understandably furious at Banks and Xar Qot, she walks into an ambush and is chemically-assisted raped again. This makes her fall in love with Banks and give up her career to be his housewife. Banks and Xar Qot then mass-produce the pheromone which the men of humanity use to overthrow the matriarchy and install a patriarchy, as is the proper status of society. Happy endings all around!
Well, except for gender-queer human Hector Marks, who is eaten alive just before he can finish his book on Mallian culture.
This story is…wow. Just no. I am aware it’s supposed to be comedy, but the passage of time has spoiled the joke.
Jurgis Rudkos is a Lithuanian immigrant who has come to America with his fiancee Ona and their families to seek the good jobs advertised in his poverty-stricken homeland. It’s tricky for people who don’t know English or the local customs to get around, but finally they make it to the Packingtown district of Chicago, and a countryman who can give them advice. Soon, the adults of the family have jobs in the slaughterhouses and related businesses, and they move into a house together. Times are tough, but if everyone works hard and saves their money, things will surely get better.
But the naive immigrants have no idea just how much worse things can get in a world where the law of the jungle prevails, and each is pitted against each.
This (in)famous novel was originally published as a serial in The Appeal to Reason and One-Hoss Philosophy, Socialist publications. In order to get it published as a book by a major publishing house, Mr. Sinclair had to tone the story down quite a bit, and it was still considered immensely shocking. The version I read is called “uncensored” but would more rightly be called “unexpurgated”, with the text as it was written for the serial.
An introduction by Kathleen De Grave explains what was cut for the 1906 version, and how that affects the tone of the story. For example, it’s left in that the slaughterhouse workers spent their lunch time in saloons, but left out is the explanation that there were no other places to get food in walking distance of the plants. If you wanted to have a warm place to eat, you must buy alcohol.
In either version, this is a depressing story. The odds are stacked against Jurgis and his family from the very beginning, with grifters ready to swindle the immigrants any way they can, from phony officials asking for fees that don’t exist to “pesticides” that are completely inert. One of the central heartbreaking examples is the house the immigrants “rent to buy.” It is not at all as advertised, there are fees in the lease contract that are not disclosed until well after the family has settled in, and miss even one payment, and you are out in the street.
Which would be fine if everyone stayed in work. But what if you get sick or injured and they fire you for missing work? What if your boss fires you because he’s found someone who will do the job for two cents less an hour? What if the entire factory just closes down for a month or three? Even the relatively nice employers have no compunctions about getting rid of workers who become inconvenient.
And while the slaughterhouse scenes are as horrific as advertised, don’t think the vegetarians are going to get away unscathed. Fruits and vegetables and milk are all adulterated, the clothing sold in the stores the poor have access to is thin shoddy (and overpriced at that!) and you can drown in the streets during the rainy season.
The misfortunes that Jurgis and the others undergo are all real, but probably happened to a half-dozen different families that Mr. Sinclair talked to while researching this book. Here, it’s all visited on one unlucky group of immigrants, and particularly Jurgis. The rule of thumb is that if Jurgis gets a couple of pages where things are looking up even a little, the hammer is about to come down even harder, sometimes by Jurgis’ own ill-considered actions.
While Jurgis is initially a decent man, who tries to do the right thing, by the time everyone he ever loved is dead, he is ready to chuck conventional morality. He sinks lower and lower, becoming in turns a mugger, a political operative, and worst of all, a scab worker.
Even when the novel ends on a hopeful note, as the Socialists gain votes (for the only way the world can be saved is to smash capitalism and adopt socialism), Jurgis himself is being carted off to prison for attacking the politically protected man who raped his wife.
Yes, there’s (off-camera) rape in the story, and child abuse (by Jurgis!) and a fair amount of other things that could be triggery, even if you can keep your lunch down during the slaughterhouse scenes. The last few chapters are nigh unreadable for the opposite reason, as they devolve into sermons (at least one literal) on the benefits of socialism.
There’s early 20th Century ethnic prejudice, racism and sexism on display; it’s up to the reader to decide how much of it is a realistic depiction of the attitudes of the times, and how much Mr. Sinclair being unable to fully rid himself of unworthy cultural blinkers.
It’s also worth considering how things have changed since this book was written, and how little things have changed. Too many pundits and plunderers would gladly have us go back to before “onerous” government food regulations, minimum wage laws and other protections for workers. They think that of course they would be immune to the dangers of the Jungle, but in the end, the Jungle consumes everything within it.
TV Review: Checkmate | Colonel March of Scotland Yard | I’m the Law
Time for more old-time TV! Checkmate was a 1960-62 series about a detective agency of the same name based in San Francisco. Don Corey (Anthony George ) and Jed Sills (Doug McClure) out of Corey’s plush apartment, and employ Dr. Carl Hyatt (Sebastian Cabot), noted criminology professor, as a consultant. The agency specialized in attempting to thwart crimes that had yet to be committed.
I watched two episodes on DVD:
“The Human Touch” : The focus is on Dr. Hyatt, as a master criminal (Peter Lorre) he caught years ago is out of prison and wants revenge. The two men are both very proud of their brains, and we get a lot of cat and mouse dialogue as they try to outsmart each other. The revenge plan is nifty, but fails due to the title factor. A fun episode!
“Nice Guys Finish Last”: A more somber story, in which the Checkmate regulars play only a small part. Instead, the main character is a police lieutenant who is denied promotion because of his obsession with a certain wealthy man about town. (The man may have even directly intervened to quash the promotion.) The wealthy man hires Checkmate to protect him from the police detective. When the lieutenant has an opportunity fall into his lap to destroy his enemy, he takes it,, much to his cost. An interesting aspect of the story is that it is never proven the rich man did anything wrong, even the one thing that set the policeman on his trail in the first place. He just acts like a dirtbag, and I for one wanted him to be brought down.
Colonel March of Scotland Yard was a 1955 British series starring Boris Karloff as the eccentric head of the Department of Queer Complaints at Scotland Yard. The premise was based on a book by John Dickson Carr, a master of locked room mysteries. March wore an eyepatch (never explained) and was a playful chap who enjoyed a good puzzle. Sadly, most of the episodes have been lost.
The episode I saw was “Error at Daybreak.” As it happens, Colonel March is on holiday at the seashore, and reading a book on “The Psychology of Crustaceans” when a millionaire with a weak heart dies nearby. The body is lodged between rocks and impossible to move, but March discovers blood by the corpse, and a mysterious sharp metal rod on the ground nearby. March suspects murder rather than heart attack, a suspicion given credence when the corpse disappears before the police proper arrive. The real solution lies in a little boy’s rubber ball. Pleasant, but not Karloff’s best work.
I’m the Law ran in 1953, and starred George Raft as New York Police Lieutenant George Kirby. Kirby had been a stage dancer before joining the police force, and never carried a gun. Mr. Raft’s career was in a steep decline at the time, and was one of the first big-name film stars to be reduced to steady work in television as opposed to special guest appearances.
Still, the series benefited from his tough-guy air and screen presence. My DVD had three episodes.
“The Cowboy and the Blind Man Story”: Kirby is contacted by a singing cowboy star (loosely modeled on Roy Rogers) to investigate a stalker of the singer’s current girlfriend. That lady turns out to be a sharpshooter and fully capable of taking care of herself. Except a shot comes in through her window, just missing her. In the office of a blind record promoter across the street, the stalker turns up dead of lead poisoning. Could be the sharpshooter, but her guns don’t match the bullet. So who? Pretty obvious to the genre-savvy.
“O Sole Mio”: A boy’s father is gunned down in Central Park, with only the boy and an organ grinder as witnesses, and the organ grinder was looking the wrong way at the time. Kirby takes the boy under his wing before the kid gets too far down the road to becoming Batman, and discovers the father had a taste for the horses and too much money for his day job. The idea of a police woman is treated with some disbelief by the boy, and a subplot involving a seedy newsstand vendor and a juvenile delinquent turns out to be an entire red herring.
“The Trucking Story”: A dockworker is killed in what is reported as an accident, but is pretty clearly an “accident.” An elderly peddler who was friends with the dockworker calls on Kirby to investigate beyond the official report. Kirby goes undercover and discovers that the shipping company is sending more than glassware to China. The dockworker’s union is seen protecting its members from abusive behavior by the bosses (one of the reasons the death had to be an “accident.”)
It’s an okay series, but relies a bit too heavily on eccentric minor characters to play off the strait-laced George Raft role.
Comic Book Review: The Forgotten Man Graphic Edition by Amity Shlaes & Paul Rivoche
Disclaimer: I received this book through a Goodreads giveaway on the premise that I would review it. My copy was an uncorrected proof, and some changes will occur in the final edition (due out around May 2014.)
This is a “graphic novel” version of the revisionist history book by Amity Shlaes in which she argues that the New Deal policies tended to prolong the Great Depression. For this version, the story is told through the narration of Wendell Willkie, an electric utility executive that ran against Franklin Delano Roosevelt in the 1940 election.
The black and white Rivoche art serves the subject well, although casting FDR’s face in shadow much of the time is an artistic choice that is perhaps a bit too obvious in its intentions.
The general notion is that government intervention in the economy was (and is) a bad thing, and that self-starting individuals such as the founders of Alcoholics Anonymous could have brought the country out of its slump much earlier. It also tries to link several of the important figures in the Roosevelt Administration to Communism, a frequent bugaboo of neoconservatives.
That said, there were many missteps in the great experiment of the New Deal, and several of them get a mention here. Some of them don’t come across quite as the author intended, I think, looking more like the result of bad individual decisions than bad government policy.
There are some really good bits in here, such as the running gag of Treasury Secretary Andrew Mellon not talking.
The back has a (possibly misleading) timeline and economic chart, followed by a listing of the cast of characters. The potted biographies carefully cut off as of 1940, which means that you will need to do your own research on such figures as Ayn Rand to see where they actually ended up.
As noted in the disclaimer, this is an uncorrected proof, and some dialogue balloons have missing words or badly constructed sentences, making them make little sense, which will presumably be fixed in the finished product.
Fans of the original book should find this one interesting, as well as history buffs who enjoy graphic novels. Those of you who are not familiar with economics may want to brush up a bit to more fully understand the positions being argued here. In honesty, I’m recommending this one more for the art than the writing.