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Tales of Times Square: Expanded Edition
“Friedman has drawn a vivid picture of the Times Square area and its denizens. He writes about the porn palaces with live sex shows, and the men and women who perform in them, prostitutes and their pimps, the runaways who will likely be the next decade's prostitutes, the clergymen who fight the smut merchants and the cops who feel impotent in the face of the judiciary.”— Publishers Weekly This classic account of the ultra-sleazy, pre-Disneyfied era of Times Square is now the subject of a documentary film of the same name to be theatrically released this year. With this edition, Tales of Times Square returns to print with seven new chapters.
320 pages, Paperback
First published June 1, 1986
15 people are currently reading
564 people want to read
About the author
Josh Alan Friedman
24 books23 followersJosh Alan Friedman’s 2026 novel, All Roads Lead To Great Neck, is a bildungsroman set in 1970 Great Neck, following a teenager whose drug experiments summon visions of a 19th century Jewish pimp. Mystical Judaism meets drug culture in ’70’s suburbia.
For those prone to disbelief, Josh Alan Friedman’s landmark book, Tales of Times Square , serves as last will and testament of what once was. Still in print since its 1986 hardcover release by Delacorte Press, Tales became its own podcast in 2017. The demimonde of old Broadway bend your ear from the burlesque theaters, boxing rings and gutters of a fading 42nd Street. All 17 episodes—as well as 17 episodes of Tales of. . . My Dead Heroes appear at Josh’s legacy site, BlackCracker.fm
Previous to that, the civil rights movement was turned upside down in Josh’s “autobiographical novel,” Black Cracker . A new hardcover is available from Wyatt Doyle Books, as well as Josh’s collection of music journalism, Tell the Truth Until They Bleed . Before that: When Sex Was Dirty ; I Goldstein My Screwed Life (with Al Goldstein); and Now Dig This The Unspeakable Writings of Terry Southern (co-editor with Nile Southern).
Before the age of graphic novels, Josh set off satirical fires and lawsuits as writer-half of the Friedman Bros cartooning duo. Two anthologies feature the art of Drew Friedman: Warts and All and Any Similarity to Persons Living Or Dead Is Purely Coincidental .
On the music front, as “Josh Alan,” he barnstormed the state of Texas for 30 years, rocking whole arenas with his Guild D-40. Copping three Dallas Observer Music Awards for Best Acoustic Act, he released six albums: Famous & Poor, The Worst!, Blacks ’n’ Jews, Josh Alan Band, Sixty Goddammit and his 2025 tour de force, Acoustic Instrumentals.
For those prone to disbelief, Josh Alan Friedman’s landmark book, Tales of Times Square , serves as last will and testament of what once was. Still in print since its 1986 hardcover release by Delacorte Press, Tales became its own podcast in 2017. The demimonde of old Broadway bend your ear from the burlesque theaters, boxing rings and gutters of a fading 42nd Street. All 17 episodes—as well as 17 episodes of Tales of. . . My Dead Heroes appear at Josh’s legacy site, BlackCracker.fm
Previous to that, the civil rights movement was turned upside down in Josh’s “autobiographical novel,” Black Cracker . A new hardcover is available from Wyatt Doyle Books, as well as Josh’s collection of music journalism, Tell the Truth Until They Bleed . Before that: When Sex Was Dirty ; I Goldstein My Screwed Life (with Al Goldstein); and Now Dig This The Unspeakable Writings of Terry Southern (co-editor with Nile Southern).
Before the age of graphic novels, Josh set off satirical fires and lawsuits as writer-half of the Friedman Bros cartooning duo. Two anthologies feature the art of Drew Friedman: Warts and All and Any Similarity to Persons Living Or Dead Is Purely Coincidental .
On the music front, as “Josh Alan,” he barnstormed the state of Texas for 30 years, rocking whole arenas with his Guild D-40. Copping three Dallas Observer Music Awards for Best Acoustic Act, he released six albums: Famous & Poor, The Worst!, Blacks ’n’ Jews, Josh Alan Band, Sixty Goddammit and his 2025 tour de force, Acoustic Instrumentals.
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Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
September 19, 2012
I cannot even imagine delving into the netherworld of 1980s dark masturbatory fantasies where the jizz was measured in gallons, but I could not put this book down. I don't know how someone can go into that world and survive with a normal life thereafter. It read like a war correspondent's journal from the frontline, with ejaculate whizzing around you instead of bullets! Yikes! Friedman did his homework, he can write a compelling sentence, but the structure of this thing is the main flaw. If you want to do a straight historical timeline, do it. If you want to make a geographical map with your words, do it. If you want to focus on disgustingly colorful characters, do it. But don't go back and forth between them and mess up the timeline. Nevertheless, I challenge anyone who begins reading the story about the guy who bet he could cum 15 times in one day to put the book down before the contest is over -- it can't be done -- you have to read it all the way to the end. And that is the sign of a good writer.
February 12, 2023
I needed something light to take with me on my recent trip to New York. I sometimes like to match book setting with location when I travel, so I poured over my bookshelf looking for books set in the Big Apple. Josh Friedman’s Tales of Time Square, recently acquired from one of my favourite used bookstores, caught my eye. Quite fortuitous I thought, as the hotel we had booked was based near Times Square. Friedman’s account of Times Square in the 1970s though is sleaziness personified. At the time the area was dominated by the sex industry - mostly peep shows, sometimes worse - which attracted a very unsavoury crowd. Because nobody respectable would be caught dead in Times Square, an ‘anything goes’ mentality was allowed to flourish. Friedman casts his net wide to find interesting locals to write about: the glamorous yet troubled women working the clubs, the sad sack booking agents and club owners, the old guy running the amusement arcade, the shoe seller to the transvestites, a black midget doormen. It’s a colourful street wise, cast of characters, but the sex industry is the driving force of the book and Friedman does not hold back any lurid details. I normally have a fairly strong stomach, but I felt unclean reading this, perpetually on edge that one of my family members might look over my shoulder at an awkward moment and ask me about what I was reading. Two accounts in particular, one to do with a world record attempt by the insatiable Tara Alexandar, and the other a bet involving sleaze merchant Larry Levenson, were particularly graphic and repellent, although entertaining. I do give Friedman credit for what he’s achieved: he’s managed to uncover these unedifying stories - and captured their salaciousness so vividly - without losing this reader; although it was touch and go at times.
Thankfully, in the final section of the book, Friedman finds more morally upstanding topics and people to write about: the priests doing their best to look after the downtrodden and the youthful runaways the area attracts, the policemen thanklessly working the beat, and the people and task forces responsible for the area’s clean up and redevelopment. Times Square today is unrecognizable from its seedy yesteryear. In fact the criticism of the neighborhood now is that its Disneyfication has sapped the area of its character. Now it’s all glitzy billboards, musicals, global retail brands, and tourists, millions of tourists. It’s certainly a more appealing place to bring your family to (mainly to spend money), but I do get the sense walking around Manhattan, that the city is at risk of becoming an outdoor museum to its more colourful past.
Thankfully, in the final section of the book, Friedman finds more morally upstanding topics and people to write about: the priests doing their best to look after the downtrodden and the youthful runaways the area attracts, the policemen thanklessly working the beat, and the people and task forces responsible for the area’s clean up and redevelopment. Times Square today is unrecognizable from its seedy yesteryear. In fact the criticism of the neighborhood now is that its Disneyfication has sapped the area of its character. Now it’s all glitzy billboards, musicals, global retail brands, and tourists, millions of tourists. It’s certainly a more appealing place to bring your family to (mainly to spend money), but I do get the sense walking around Manhattan, that the city is at risk of becoming an outdoor museum to its more colourful past.
January 18, 2023
Tales of Times Square by Josh Alan Friedman is a read that you’ll need a stiff drink or three to get through. The content is exactly what I needed as a researcher and writer, as it covers an extremely specific moment in New York City’s colorful history that was before my time, and was written by an individual who was not only present and interacted in the scene that made up the underbelly of Times Square, but it was written in 1986 and therefore, as contemporary to the time as I might ever get. This is what I base my five star review on—the usefulness and originality of the gonzo-esque journalism. But, and I cannot stress this enough, reading this narrative in 2023, with a more enlightened mindset when compared to what was “okay” by society in the ‘70s and ‘80s, about 99% of this book is deeply offensive. (And I cannot stress that percentage enough.)
Friedman, one can certainly hope, has soul-searched and grown since he penned his experiences with Screw magazine and the porn industry of NYC, as his word choices are belligerent slang, but it’s the conversations he conducted with some notorious personalities (Al Goldstein and Sammy Grubman in particular) that are the source of this book’s misogynistic, transphobic, homophobic, racist, and classist vocabulary. If you are able to keep in the back of your mind that this was written in the ‘80s, about an experience lived from 1978 – 1984, and that society literally looked upon the citizens of Times Square as less than garbage, it’s entirely possible to read this book and get an intense, firsthand account of 42nd Street’s peep shows, live sex stages, sex workers, runaways, drugs, crumbling infrastructure, and crime that has since all but vanished after citywide clean-up initiatives.
I found the chapter that stood out the most to me to be that of Father Bruce Ritter and the Covenant House during the early ‘70s. This neighborhood is known as Hell’s Kitchen, the west side that runs along Times Square. It was still quite a poor neighborhood of tenements and housed the lingering Irish who’d settled down in the area almost a century before. Naturally, one would assume that a man who dedicated himself to the teachings of Jesus should care for the poor, the downtrodden, the helpless. He didn’t, sadly. He cared about the lower class families who attended his church (ok, fair) but not about the women being abused by pimps, not the LGBT people who’d been thrown out by their families, not the runaway children who made their homes on the streets. His quotes are the absolute antithesis of the life he supposedly dedicated himself to, and in the end, he was found to have been molesting young homeless boys. Disheartening and disgusting.
This book is a ride, for sure. I picked it up after watching the documentary, Crime Scene: The Times Square Killer, during which Friedman is interviewed. Again, it really was useful for my research, the casual horridness toward women, minorities, and LGBT notwithstanding. If this is a period that interests you, it’s certainly an eye-opening narrative. But otherwise, if you only have a casual interest, I’d suggest the documentary, because despite it’s true crime focus, the history of Times Square will come across just fine.
Friedman, one can certainly hope, has soul-searched and grown since he penned his experiences with Screw magazine and the porn industry of NYC, as his word choices are belligerent slang, but it’s the conversations he conducted with some notorious personalities (Al Goldstein and Sammy Grubman in particular) that are the source of this book’s misogynistic, transphobic, homophobic, racist, and classist vocabulary. If you are able to keep in the back of your mind that this was written in the ‘80s, about an experience lived from 1978 – 1984, and that society literally looked upon the citizens of Times Square as less than garbage, it’s entirely possible to read this book and get an intense, firsthand account of 42nd Street’s peep shows, live sex stages, sex workers, runaways, drugs, crumbling infrastructure, and crime that has since all but vanished after citywide clean-up initiatives.
I found the chapter that stood out the most to me to be that of Father Bruce Ritter and the Covenant House during the early ‘70s. This neighborhood is known as Hell’s Kitchen, the west side that runs along Times Square. It was still quite a poor neighborhood of tenements and housed the lingering Irish who’d settled down in the area almost a century before. Naturally, one would assume that a man who dedicated himself to the teachings of Jesus should care for the poor, the downtrodden, the helpless. He didn’t, sadly. He cared about the lower class families who attended his church (ok, fair) but not about the women being abused by pimps, not the LGBT people who’d been thrown out by their families, not the runaway children who made their homes on the streets. His quotes are the absolute antithesis of the life he supposedly dedicated himself to, and in the end, he was found to have been molesting young homeless boys. Disheartening and disgusting.
This book is a ride, for sure. I picked it up after watching the documentary, Crime Scene: The Times Square Killer, during which Friedman is interviewed. Again, it really was useful for my research, the casual horridness toward women, minorities, and LGBT notwithstanding. If this is a period that interests you, it’s certainly an eye-opening narrative. But otherwise, if you only have a casual interest, I’d suggest the documentary, because despite it’s true crime focus, the history of Times Square will come across just fine.
November 26, 2016
This was a great insider look at the decadence and filth of Times Square before its "Disneyfication". The author looks at the strip clubs, peep shows, book stores, movie theaters and prostitution with mostly admiration of those who lived and worked in Times Square.
I had the opportunity to spend time in Manhattan in 80's during the late stages of decay, and later on as the face of the Times Square neighborhood changed and gentrified. And it was quite the transformation. This book weaves the history of the sloth with a bit of oral history and first person observations in an engaging fashion. I was left, some, 40 years later wondering what happened to the many characters profiled in this book. I am sure there was too much sorrow and sadness.
I had the opportunity to spend time in Manhattan in 80's during the late stages of decay, and later on as the face of the Times Square neighborhood changed and gentrified. And it was quite the transformation. This book weaves the history of the sloth with a bit of oral history and first person observations in an engaging fashion. I was left, some, 40 years later wondering what happened to the many characters profiled in this book. I am sure there was too much sorrow and sadness.
July 6, 2017
If you've ever been to Times Square and thought to yourself, "Jesus, this place is HORRIBLE," well, you have no idea what it was like BEFORE it was Disneyfied. Neither did I, outside of the gritty films of the '70s like Driller Killer, but this book really puts faces and names (and all sorts of other body parts that I won't mention here) to the seedy Times Square of old.
August 26, 2007
Loved this book. It tells the tales of Times Square before Disney, and watered down entertainment met the strip. Throughly enjoyed this book. It was a hard book to find, but worth the effort.
October 29, 2007
Times Square sure isn't like this anymore...
August 24, 2022
I’ve always had this burgeoning curiosity of the old Times Square, even before seeing (and enjoying) HBO’s The Deuce. Who were the people that worked these parlors? The sex shows? The hustles? Where did they go when they were done? What are the truths and the myths surrounding the deuce? And moreover, how did one of America’s major entertainment landmarks become a red light zone of sex?
Josh Friedman’s collection of story/essays covers almost all of this. I learned about the performers and the reluctance that drove them into their profession. The ones Friedman interviewed weren’t trafficked or underage. They were certainly exploited but they used said exploitation to their advantage, milking the male gaze for all the money they could get. They’re sales people putting their bodies for sale.
The owners of the clubs mostly come off as decent folk, even with their mob connections. There’s little talk of casting couches and back room bjs. They live in places like Queens and Westchester and descend with the rest of the crowds to Times Square at night.
Some parts were incredibly gross, even for a person like me who considers themselves open-minded. From a woman trying to hit the mark of world’s largest gangbang to the men who perpetuated the old peep shows and masturbated to the women who worked them, one can see how Times Square got its grimy reputation in that time.
I also got a good sense of the forces that were trying to help; the churches, the businesses, the runaway shelter. Even though they all demonized pornography more than just the general inequity within American governance, one gets the sense that they were trying to help.
The problem was that on the polar opposite of the sex trade were the developers who came and turned Times Square into a playground for the rich. I won’t argue that it needed to be reformed but it priced out a lot of longtime residents and employees. And for the faults of Times Square, there is something to be said for middle class folks who are looking to fairly pay for sex work and having a place to do it. Sadly, the book doesn’t say anything about queer sex except to demonize transfolk; Samuel Delaney’s Times Square Red, Times Square Blue goes longer on this.
Overall, it’s a fascinating read that gave me my money’s worth. It might be too much for folks with weaker constitutions but you’ll learn a lot if you stick with it.
Josh Friedman’s collection of story/essays covers almost all of this. I learned about the performers and the reluctance that drove them into their profession. The ones Friedman interviewed weren’t trafficked or underage. They were certainly exploited but they used said exploitation to their advantage, milking the male gaze for all the money they could get. They’re sales people putting their bodies for sale.
The owners of the clubs mostly come off as decent folk, even with their mob connections. There’s little talk of casting couches and back room bjs. They live in places like Queens and Westchester and descend with the rest of the crowds to Times Square at night.
Some parts were incredibly gross, even for a person like me who considers themselves open-minded. From a woman trying to hit the mark of world’s largest gangbang to the men who perpetuated the old peep shows and masturbated to the women who worked them, one can see how Times Square got its grimy reputation in that time.
I also got a good sense of the forces that were trying to help; the churches, the businesses, the runaway shelter. Even though they all demonized pornography more than just the general inequity within American governance, one gets the sense that they were trying to help.
The problem was that on the polar opposite of the sex trade were the developers who came and turned Times Square into a playground for the rich. I won’t argue that it needed to be reformed but it priced out a lot of longtime residents and employees. And for the faults of Times Square, there is something to be said for middle class folks who are looking to fairly pay for sex work and having a place to do it. Sadly, the book doesn’t say anything about queer sex except to demonize transfolk; Samuel Delaney’s Times Square Red, Times Square Blue goes longer on this.
Overall, it’s a fascinating read that gave me my money’s worth. It might be too much for folks with weaker constitutions but you’ll learn a lot if you stick with it.
April 16, 2022
I was prompted to read this after watching the Netflix documentary about the Times Square killer … the author of this book was in the doc series.
I found the book somewhat fascinating, but unorganized in its presentation. The chapters lack continuity and structure; the book is more like a random compilation of journal notes regarding the author’s random experiences as a young journalist for “Screw” magazine during the seedy days of Times Square in the late 70s. The stories themselves, do draw you in and paint a clear picture how dirty, disgusting and dangerous Times Square was prior to being the “Dinseyfied” family-friendly place it later became. NYC in the 70s is an iconic symbol that clearly illustrated the grit, grime and decadence of arguably the last American decade of uninhibited liberty. The author’s stories clearly present images of a filthy sexual Wild West in a manner that makes you thankful they created hand-sanitizer… Covid wouldn’t have survived 1970s Times Square. I visited NYC a few times as a kid in the 70s and yes, it was pretty much a dump (literally, as a sanitation strike was active on one visit).
My only disappointment is that the picture section is comprised of photos taken in 1986 that really don’t connect with the text. I found myself Googling (unsuccessfully) to put faces to the names.
Overall, an interesting read that really captures a forgotten era of NYC’s most iconic turf. I would recommend watching the Netflix doc on the Times Square killer to serve as a visual companion to this book.
I found the book somewhat fascinating, but unorganized in its presentation. The chapters lack continuity and structure; the book is more like a random compilation of journal notes regarding the author’s random experiences as a young journalist for “Screw” magazine during the seedy days of Times Square in the late 70s. The stories themselves, do draw you in and paint a clear picture how dirty, disgusting and dangerous Times Square was prior to being the “Dinseyfied” family-friendly place it later became. NYC in the 70s is an iconic symbol that clearly illustrated the grit, grime and decadence of arguably the last American decade of uninhibited liberty. The author’s stories clearly present images of a filthy sexual Wild West in a manner that makes you thankful they created hand-sanitizer… Covid wouldn’t have survived 1970s Times Square. I visited NYC a few times as a kid in the 70s and yes, it was pretty much a dump (literally, as a sanitation strike was active on one visit).
My only disappointment is that the picture section is comprised of photos taken in 1986 that really don’t connect with the text. I found myself Googling (unsuccessfully) to put faces to the names.
Overall, an interesting read that really captures a forgotten era of NYC’s most iconic turf. I would recommend watching the Netflix doc on the Times Square killer to serve as a visual companion to this book.
August 13, 2022
If a reader was to explore the entire de-evolution of this part of New York City (itself a worthwhile exploration), this book would be the best final read. Any number of prior accounts have recounted how Times Square become the mecca of entertainment. This gets into the nitty gritty of the final degradation. Having spent very little time in The 212, this reads like a playground of sleaze and decadence before Rudy and Mickey Mouse took over. And Friedman makes it dirty but darn close to fun an desirable. Should we wish we were there or respond abhorrently? A reader-response critic like Stanley Fish would remind you that Milton wanted you to feel a little sorry for Satan.
I wasn't old enough or close enough to the city to remember much of this. But I have had the fortune to chat with a few of the people in this book. It's just a time and a place with few rules. Josh's narrative sounds a lot like their own accounts, except he's more articulate.
A fun read about the naughty underbelly of America's Puritan moral crusade against all pleasure.
I wasn't old enough or close enough to the city to remember much of this. But I have had the fortune to chat with a few of the people in this book. It's just a time and a place with few rules. Josh's narrative sounds a lot like their own accounts, except he's more articulate.
A fun read about the naughty underbelly of America's Puritan moral crusade against all pleasure.
March 13, 2025
Josh Friedman doesn't have the scholarly thrust or the empathy that, oh say, Samuel Delany does with TIMES SQUARE RED, TIMES SQUARE BLUE. But he is good for the occasional witty metaphor, such as comparing streetwalker ratios to an antitrust monopoly, and does a fairly good faith job of rendering seedy Times Square of the 1970s and the 1980s in its full sleazy Technicolor glory. He describes strippers and gangbangs in much the same way as a local beat reporter covering a Girl Scouts Jamboree. Sometimes he quits long before he should, such as his consideration of pre-Christian Louboutin stilettos. The Larry Levenson piece is probably the best one in this book. A decent observational portrait of a particular time in New York, though I wouldn't say it is the definitive one.
May 13, 2019
This book is a treasure. Published in 1986, Friedman (who was working for a porn magazine and living around Times Square), tells firsthand stories of the people running the peep shows, porn palaces, prostitutes, pimps and cops, of 1970s Times Square. Also touches on the history of the many theaters that were built in the area during the jazz age and housed shows like the Ziegfield follies, early Hollywood films - which then became the homes for the growing porn industry. It was a wild, lawless place.
December 5, 2025
If you are looking to explore the really seedy side of The Deuce, Tales of Times Square is the book for you. Author Josh Alan Friedman saw the 42nd street in all of its glorious grunginess during the 70s and 80s. Within the pages of this book you will meet prostitutes, pimps, pushers, and other denizens of the grindhouses, porno movie houses, and live sex clubs. Be warned, this book goes into a lot of detail and is not for the faint of heat. There is also quite a bit of language that would get someone cancelled if written now.
March 30, 2022
I'm torn here. If you can get past the unrelenting, casual homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, racism, classism it is a fascinating glimpse at the seediest era of Times Square. But that is a big "if". I moved into Times Square in '91, just past the sleaze heyday but before the Disneyfication, so it held extra interest to me.
August 25, 2020
Like The Deuce show
October 1, 2021
This is the best document ever written about pre-AIDs pre crack Times Square. Koch era New York was the golden age of Times Square and no book captures it with less judgement than this.
November 7, 2021
Decent Read
March 25, 2022
Steamy recap of days gone by in the heart of New York.
November 1, 2023
3,5.
Sleazy, smutty. And yet I couldn't stop turning the pages. A great collection of stories and characters both funny and tragic.
Sleazy, smutty. And yet I couldn't stop turning the pages. A great collection of stories and characters both funny and tragic.
January 6, 2025
The perfect followup to The Deuce - in fact I'd wager this book was a prime piece of research material. Filthy and sad and hilarious
October 17, 2024
Do you miss Archie Bunker? Don't worry, Josh Alan Friedman has got you. If this is the trash he's willing to put down in print, I'm CERTAIN this bigot is the type of prick who'll refer to Black people as the n-word to their face when he gets upset. Endless Brietbart-esque mention of sinister "blacks" or "black crime." Black people in this book are nearly ALL criminals, nearly ALL illiterate and scheming. (There are one or two token characters on whom he doesn't heap as much contempt so you can't say "EVERY Black character." Knowing to do at least that shows you the limits of Friedman's smarts.) To Friedman, "blacks" are a bunch of animalistic criminal savages. The Black people Friedman obsesses over as superpredators are given none of the charm of the white slimeball characters, whom Friedman at least seems to think are both repulsive AND charismatic. The only people Friedman thinks are decent and worthy of praise are the white thug cops he lovingly profiles as "salt of the earth" while they mutter disgusting bigotries and lament no longer being able to kick the shit out of people for insulting them. These are the true lowlifes Friedman looks up to, even imagining how much nicer the city would be with only "one night of fascism" (read: killing/locking up Black people) and that tells us a lot more about who he is than the other wacky characters he profiles. I don't mind reading about perverts jerking off all over the windows of peep booths while watching women stuff objects into themselves, but Friedman's combination of racism and pathetic sucking up to cheap authority really turned my fucking stomach.
Half-way in and I'm not going to insult my own intelligence by subjecting myself to more of this drivel: fuck this racist piece of shit. Friedman's as passable a writer as anyone who ever graduated university, and that's the nicest thing I can say about him. He frequently manages to take dynamic characters and interesting situations and bore the shit out of me with sophomoric typing. I get the idea he was pretty young when he wrote a lot of this: that doesn't excuse the racism at all, but it explains why the writing is dull and uninspiring and he can't figure out how to build tension or dazzle the reader. Who even cares: he's stupid enough to be this racist, so should I be surprised he don't write so fuckin' good? For the last decade he's been styling himself a "Black cracker" and apparently wrote a Minstrel-show book about growing up the only white kid among Black kids. Apparently racial insecurity is a lifelong obsession for the prick, but again, who gives a shit?
I have a longstanding interest in sleaze and the physical circumstances in which people used to engage in sleazy behaviour, so this was far from my first rodeo reading about this stuff. Many, many, many other authors and reporters spent plenty of time on 42nd Street and have written far more resonantly about it without any of the constant, aggressive white supremacy. Fuck Josh Alan Friedman: he's a hell of a lot lower than the sleaze he's writing about here, the degenerate, vacuous racist. (And yellow-bellied sycophant to cops: degrading.) I can't believe this goof has a career, but then I can take comfort he doesn't really have much of one, and probably wouldn't have any if his brother hadn't been more successful. It goes a long way to explaining why I'd been reading about this stuff for years but had never heard anyone talk much about this book. Other than calling it and its author "a piece of shit," what else can you say?
Half-way in and I'm not going to insult my own intelligence by subjecting myself to more of this drivel: fuck this racist piece of shit. Friedman's as passable a writer as anyone who ever graduated university, and that's the nicest thing I can say about him. He frequently manages to take dynamic characters and interesting situations and bore the shit out of me with sophomoric typing. I get the idea he was pretty young when he wrote a lot of this: that doesn't excuse the racism at all, but it explains why the writing is dull and uninspiring and he can't figure out how to build tension or dazzle the reader. Who even cares: he's stupid enough to be this racist, so should I be surprised he don't write so fuckin' good? For the last decade he's been styling himself a "Black cracker" and apparently wrote a Minstrel-show book about growing up the only white kid among Black kids. Apparently racial insecurity is a lifelong obsession for the prick, but again, who gives a shit?
I have a longstanding interest in sleaze and the physical circumstances in which people used to engage in sleazy behaviour, so this was far from my first rodeo reading about this stuff. Many, many, many other authors and reporters spent plenty of time on 42nd Street and have written far more resonantly about it without any of the constant, aggressive white supremacy. Fuck Josh Alan Friedman: he's a hell of a lot lower than the sleaze he's writing about here, the degenerate, vacuous racist. (And yellow-bellied sycophant to cops: degrading.) I can't believe this goof has a career, but then I can take comfort he doesn't really have much of one, and probably wouldn't have any if his brother hadn't been more successful. It goes a long way to explaining why I'd been reading about this stuff for years but had never heard anyone talk much about this book. Other than calling it and its author "a piece of shit," what else can you say?
July 18, 2016
Pretty hard to find. Took the local about a month to drag up this copy (thanks, guys).
This book was written by a guy who wrote for National Lampoon as well as some "adult" titles. It is a collection of short, factual (we believe) stories that take place during the dying days of the "old" Times Square, the Times Square of Death Wish, Warriors and other films of that era and genre. And, from what the book shows, those may have actually been toned down versions of what went on there. Think hundreds of hookers on a single stretch of street, actively grabbing passerby is exaggerated?" Maybe, maybe not. 24 hour live sex shows? Yeah, that's real. Junkies sleeping in peep booths, using in same, with fluids everywhere? The book actually talks to a guy who frequents those booths and describes them.
There is a little social commentary there, and it's what you'd expect: kids with not a lot of money and crap home lives sometimes turn to places they shouldn't for entertainment, and sometimes for refuge.
Interestingly, this has to be a collection of stories, and not all by the author listed here, as the voice is very, very, very different, with some articles noting the plight of poor kids who have to sell themselves down there to get by, and others looking down the nose at these "worthless excuses for humans", etc, and how they live like animals.
The book was finished in 1985, when they really started cracking down on old Times Square. Everything that the author describes the beginning of has long since happened. The bad is gone, but so is the good. The author notes that, if you were a poor kid, you could go down and have a date with a cheap dinner at Tad's and a double feature for just a few bucks, in a Manhattan that is now out of reach of anyone that can reasonably be considered "working class."
A very interesting time capsule. An anomaly of a book. And refreshingly vulgar and obscene in 2016.
This book was written by a guy who wrote for National Lampoon as well as some "adult" titles. It is a collection of short, factual (we believe) stories that take place during the dying days of the "old" Times Square, the Times Square of Death Wish, Warriors and other films of that era and genre. And, from what the book shows, those may have actually been toned down versions of what went on there. Think hundreds of hookers on a single stretch of street, actively grabbing passerby is exaggerated?" Maybe, maybe not. 24 hour live sex shows? Yeah, that's real. Junkies sleeping in peep booths, using in same, with fluids everywhere? The book actually talks to a guy who frequents those booths and describes them.
There is a little social commentary there, and it's what you'd expect: kids with not a lot of money and crap home lives sometimes turn to places they shouldn't for entertainment, and sometimes for refuge.
Interestingly, this has to be a collection of stories, and not all by the author listed here, as the voice is very, very, very different, with some articles noting the plight of poor kids who have to sell themselves down there to get by, and others looking down the nose at these "worthless excuses for humans", etc, and how they live like animals.
The book was finished in 1985, when they really started cracking down on old Times Square. Everything that the author describes the beginning of has long since happened. The bad is gone, but so is the good. The author notes that, if you were a poor kid, you could go down and have a date with a cheap dinner at Tad's and a double feature for just a few bucks, in a Manhattan that is now out of reach of anyone that can reasonably be considered "working class."
A very interesting time capsule. An anomaly of a book. And refreshingly vulgar and obscene in 2016.
November 19, 2012
A 1986 examination of the seedy world of Times Square, this work of historical nonfiction has now become something of a curious historical artifact itself, given the further changes to the square and its reputation during past quarter-century. Short take: interesting, though frequently somewhat nauseating in its frank, almost bored, documentation of every form of sexual private enterprise on offer in 1970s Times Square.
I would also offer this book as Exhibit A in defending my long-held belief that fellow liberals’ frequent lament about “gentrification” is largely (not exclusively, but largely) daft. Toward the end of the book, the author shakes off his otherwise detached tone to express his own disapproval of the destruction of the area’s history by what would be called, more recently, the “Disneyfication” of Times Square. And yet, while I’m sure most land developers really are greedy fiends, and I definitely support historic preservation, Friedman’s complaint seems absolutely random and incredible in the context of his depiction of a neighborhood completely rotten with misery, exploitation, crime and, even speaking as a decided non-prude, irredeemable filth. The glories and historic treasures of Times Square weren’t threatened by urban renewal; they were already long-dead anyway. Even a hasty burial was better than leaving them decomposing on the street.
I would also offer this book as Exhibit A in defending my long-held belief that fellow liberals’ frequent lament about “gentrification” is largely (not exclusively, but largely) daft. Toward the end of the book, the author shakes off his otherwise detached tone to express his own disapproval of the destruction of the area’s history by what would be called, more recently, the “Disneyfication” of Times Square. And yet, while I’m sure most land developers really are greedy fiends, and I definitely support historic preservation, Friedman’s complaint seems absolutely random and incredible in the context of his depiction of a neighborhood completely rotten with misery, exploitation, crime and, even speaking as a decided non-prude, irredeemable filth. The glories and historic treasures of Times Square weren’t threatened by urban renewal; they were already long-dead anyway. Even a hasty burial was better than leaving them decomposing on the street.
February 22, 2012
An interesting read, especially for anyone looking to revisit the dirty Times Square of old. This book documents the Times Square of the '70s through the early '80s, with occasional additional commentary on where it's at in the '90s (when the book was published). Many of the chapters are essentially interviews with the various denizens of the Square, be they old veterans of the area who remember its glory years gone by, prostitutes, cops, newstand owners, employees at the various strip clubs and porn shops that used to choke the area, or even break dancers.
If there's one thing that annoyed me about the book is that the author felt it necessary to go into great detail about some of the peep show booths, and the detailed attempts of local porn heroes to break various sexual records. The chapters tend to go on forever, and believe it or not there's really only so much one can say about an orgy before it starts getting monotonous. Since the author used to write for Screw Magazine I guess I can see why he felt it necessary to include this.
If there's one thing that annoyed me about the book is that the author felt it necessary to go into great detail about some of the peep show booths, and the detailed attempts of local porn heroes to break various sexual records. The chapters tend to go on forever, and believe it or not there's really only so much one can say about an orgy before it starts getting monotonous. Since the author used to write for Screw Magazine I guess I can see why he felt it necessary to include this.
May 26, 2008
This book really captures the sleazy, wonderful and terrifying atmosphere of "the Deuce" in it's final glory days of the 1980's as well as providing a load of nostalgic background of this most famous of neighborhoods throughout the last 50 years. Pimps, players, prostitutes, hustlers, dealers, users, perverts, strippers and kung-fu movie enthusiasts populate this essential history. This new updates edition adds some much anticipated follow-up.
This book makes me wish I was born in New York ten years before I was. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!!!!
This book makes me wish I was born in New York ten years before I was. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!!!!
March 21, 2012
Though it isn't the most elegantly structured book in the world, it doesn't have a boring page, as befits Friedman. A few chapters are DEFINITELY not for the squeamish, but Friedman's a chronicler here (his few escapades into gonzo-styled involvement aren't exactly worn as badges of pride)--and a eulogist. One damn fine, and complex, eulogist, though the last page hints at resurrection.
March 4, 2018
This book contains several of the filthiest things I have ever read. It’s a delightful read and an interesting time capsule of an era in New York’s history that has long since given way to our current age of tourist traps and ubiquitous ATM vestibules.
Want to read
December 18, 2007Waiting for more input from some of the people who have read this book
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