Escape Velocity by Charles Portis

by Charles Portis

Charles Portis, writer of fiction, has here short pieces, essays, memoirs, articles, and the new play Delray's New Moon. Topics cover civil rights, road trips in Baja, and Elvis' s visits to his aging mother. Also tributes by authors such as Donna Tartt and Ron Rosenbaum.

Genres: Fiction, Essays, Short Stories, Humor, Journalism, Travel, American

Paperback

First published January 1, 2012

About the author

Charles McColl Portis was an American author best known for his novels Norwood (1966) and the classic Western True Grit (1968), both adapted as films. The latter also inspired a film sequel and a made-for-TV movie sequel. A newer film adaptation of True Grit was released in 2010.

Portis served in the Marine Corps during the Korean war and attended the University of Arkansas at Fayetteville. He graduated with a degree in journalism in 1958.

His journalistic career included work at the Arkansas Gazette before he moved to New York to work for The New York Herald Tribune. After serving as the London bureau chief for the The New York Herald Tribune, he left journalism in 1964 and returned to Arkansas to write novels.

Reviews

[Aaron Arnold · Rating 4 out of 5]

Anyone who would consider picking this "miscellany" up is almost by definition a Portis die-hard already, but although it wouldn't make a very good introduction to his work for a newbie, it's still worth a read if you've already plowed through all five of his novels. According to the Introduction, this was born out of a collection that a Portis superfan (who like me was first introduced to him through The Dog of the South) had been slowly accumulating in a file cabinet, which is impressive considering how much more difficult it would have been to keep tabs on all this random writing in the pre-Internet era. It's divided into six sections and an epilogue - some writings from his newspaper days, some travelogues, a few short stories, the brief memoir "Combinations of Jacksons", a three-act play entitled "Delray's New Moon", an extended interview with a former coworker, and finally a bunch of tributes from fellow writers and fans.

From the very first newspaper story, Portis delivers. The intro note aptly mentions his "wry humor and keen observation", but it's hard to overstate how rare Portis' talents are, how vividly they reinforce the impression that most writers are basically half-asleep when they start thinking and typing. Even that first story, a routine recounting of an anniversary reenactment of the time when a young Abraham Lincoln was attacked by renegades on a Memphis-bound flatboat, takes up barely a full page in the paperback edition, but there are telltale flashes of his sharp eye for the perfect details that bring an event to life. The articles with Birmingham/Jackson/Tuscaloosa datelines documenting the civil rights struggles there, including attending a KKK rally, are first-rate, wonderfully evocative pieces that were obviously written with strong feeling behind them. Portis, an almost lifelong Arkansan who was descended from Confederate soldiers, mentions the trope of the New South, but I suspect for him its values were already old news.

The travelogues will probably be the most familiar to the novel-readers, since traveling is so important to his books, and I think the more long-form nature of the pieces suit him better anyway. "That New Sound From Nashville" examines the country music scene in that town and obviously informed Norwood and its eponymous protagonist. "An Auto Odyssey Through Darkest Baja" might be my favorite piece in the whole collection, a hilarious recounting of the time he and a buddy drove a beat-up 1952 Studebaker pickup down the whole length of Baja California. It's got almost everything: lots of perfect dialogue, deadpan humor, car talk, sparse but evocative description, and a great ending. Read it first if The Dog of the South is your favorite novel. "The Forgotten River" recounts Portis' relationship to and wanderings around the Ouachita River, and has some pretty interesting history and local lore in it, an excellent example of his deep grounding in Arkansas. "Motel Life, Lower Reaches" is the final travel piece, and it's both very funny and filled with great characters that he met while staying in motels across the Southwest.

However, with the exception of "Damn!" and the haunting military piece "I Don't Talk Service No More", I didn't like the short story section all that much. Most of the stories are based around humor that I can't call anything but "forced", like someone told Portis that "wacky" humor was all the rage these days and that he should try it out - "Nights Can Turn Cool In Viborra", a portrait of a pretentious travel writer, was the worst offender. Some of the folks in the epilogue seemed to like them, but overall they didn't impress me; I guess he is mortal after all. The next section is a quick memoir called "Combinations of Jacksons", and it's much better. For some reason recollections of people who grew up in the pre-TV era, even if they were in cities instead of the Arkansas backcountry, sound unbelievably idyllic to me, full of outdoor excursions, roughhousing, experiments with danger that never went awry, just tons of fun that's not quite the same as the pleasant but somewhat sedate childhood that I and most of my friends experienced. But it's great fun to read, until near the end where he suddenly shows his cards and reveals the grim theme of aging he'd been slowly building up to, finishing on a note of bleakness familiar to those who paid attention in Masters of Atlantis: "I can see the winter stubble in his fields, too, on that dreary January day in 1942. Broken stalks and a few dirty white shreds of bumblebee cotton. Everyone who was there is dead and buried now except me."

That same gray attitude towards the inexorable march of death is in his play, "Delray's New Moon". One of the things that makes people get so fervent about recommending Portis (I've pushed him on several people) is his attitude towards his characters, the way he presents ridiculous people who are clearly a little off their rocker, yet never disrespects or condescends to them. It's very subtle, yet his iron grip over his editorializing, his preference to step back and let the characters dig their own graves, is much harder to find than it should be. The play is about some elders about to be sent to a cut-rate old folks home, and though their cantankering and complaining is as funny as anything else in his works, Portis builds up their gripes into something sad - it's of course amusing to watch their failures to communicate, and yet always there is the knowledge that this happens to all too many people, being sent off to whatever dismal geriatric gulag is most convenient or offers the best Special Value Package. Even the bit of slapstick can't entirely hide the sadness, but overall Portis masterfully mixes pathos and comedy here.

The interview and encomiums at the end are not essential, especially because it takes Portis a while to loosen up and start talking, but it's interesting to hear him talk about his forays in journalism. The other great journalist-novelists of that era, Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe, were also Southerners, and it was fascinating to read about their connections (Portis shared magazine space with HST and worked at the New York Herald Tribune with Wolfe). The tributes by other writers add in some interesting insight, especially on True Grit, his most famous work ("Like Cormac McCarthy, but funny" is a great way to describe him), yet overall I think Portis' work stands up well enough on its own. This collection is not quite perfect, but given that Portis seems determined to live his own life even at the risk of disappointing his fans, as probably the last of him we'll ever see it's a fitting retrospective, and quite good on its own merits.

[Patrick McCoy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Escape Velocity: A Charles Portis Miscellany (2012) edited by Jay Jennings might only be of interest to those of what Ron Rosenbaum calls, from his essay included in the appendix "Our Least-Known Great Novelist," the Society of Portis. This and two other seminal essays, Roy Blount Jr.'s "Comedy in Earnest" and Ed Park's comprehensive "Like Cormac McCarthy, but Funny," extolling the virtues of the prose of Charles Portis. In fact Park uses many of the miscellany included in this book to tell the story of the elusive Charles Portis and was the essay that was most instrumental in spurring me to read all five novels owing to my status as a huge Cormac McCarthy fan as well. I believe the collection is worth it for the three act play, Delray's New Moon, alone. But the early news reporting on the desegregation of schools and various other pieces shows the reader how he developed his fine sense of observation and his ability to turn a phrase and create realistic dialogue, this is especially true in his "Our Town" columns for The Arkansas Gazette. As a writer at the The New York Herald Tribune he was a contemporary of co-workers Tom Wolfe and eventual Harper's editor Lewis Lamphan and rose to London Bureau chief before quitting to write fiction. I also enjoyed his travel writing and it seems that "An Auto Odyssey through Darkest Baja" was an invaluable inspiration for Dog of the South and Gringos. I have to admit that the short stories weren't among my favorite pieces in the collection, but I did enjoy his memoir, "Combinations of Jacksons." I have since read both Donna Tart's introduction to his American classic True Grit and agree with Wells Tower that aside from the brilliance of that novel, Gringos is probably my second favorite. But that's like saying you love one kid more than the others-all of his novel are wonderful in their own way and there are only five (and Norwood is barley 200 pages long), so there's no excuse not to read America's "Least-Known Great Novelist."

[Michael Jarvis · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is no one like Charles Portis in American letters.
He wrote five novels, all of which are revered in different orders of preference by his ardent fans. Perhaps a main reason for this is simply that they are funny. Not just funny, as in amusing, but laugh out loud funny. I say this obviously as one who finds his writing singularly appealing. There is a quirky exactness in the dialogue and descriptions which is his alone, and makes this reader feel fortunate to have encountered his books.

I'm not saying this will apply to every reader across the board. But I can't think of one other author, alive or dead, who consistently makes me laugh. I was finishing this book in bed the other night and my wife was having trouble falling asleep amid the snorts and other bursts of suppressed laughter I couldn't keep inside. I probably should have left the room.

Which brings me to Escape Velocity: A Charles Portis Miscellany (the title comes from a line spoken by the main character in his third novel, The Dog of the South: "A lot of people leave Arkansas and most of them come back sooner or later. They can't quite achieve escape velocity.)

Since there have been no other books of his published after the novels, this collection is like water to a desert crawler. Yes, it's a mixed bag - reportage, stories, a play, a bit of memoir, travel - but for those who have read the novels, it's all we have to ingest now and for that reason it's a treasure of sustenance.

If you don't know Portis, you've probably heard of True Grit. Don't for a second think the movies based on this novel define its true quality, certainly not the John Wayne film of 1969, nor even the recent and much improved Coen brothers version. Neither of these can touch the novel, not by a mile. It's simply an American Classic, and the only one of the five novels that's not more or less contemporary. It followed Norwood, his first novel, which can serve as your litmus test if you want to try Portis. If he suits you, go from there.

Anyway, I hope my point is clear. Read Portis, an absolutely unique American treasure.

[Bro_Pair أعرف · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is it - this is the guy to beat. The peerless writer. The Bard of Little Rock. His reportage on the murder of Medgar Evers, the beautiful, possibly neo-Confederate "Combinations of Jacksons," the travel stories through Baja California and America's motels. You fools who would anoint people like Philip Roth! You don't deserve Charles "Buddy" Portis

[Larry Carr · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having recently completed Dog of the South ( a great novel) in which the story’s narrator Ray Midge concludes, upon his return home, that many are unable to achieve the exit velocity necessary -not to come back. Which, of course, has led me to Exit Velocity, Jay Jennings’ compendium of Portis materials.

EV covers Portis child & family reminiscences, his career in journalism, including his time with the New York Tribune. Of particular note is his reporting on the summer of ‘63 Civil Rights struggle in Alabama and Mississippi- straight forward reporting not opinions. His resignation and return to Little Rock to write novels, and as Tom Wolfe described to live in a fish shack. Also included here are magazine submissions, ie. Baja Road Trip, Nashville Music Scene, etc., his play Delray’s New Moon. A valuable, must have collection of Charles Portis material.

I would evaluate my ebook purchase as more than satisfactory- his collection of Southern colloquialisms and reminiscences alone worth the price. My 474 high lights, 10 pages many truncated, which GR finally shut off 65% way through my reading, certainly indicates my uncontrollable enthusiasm for this book.

Having come lately to Portis, I am 74, two yrs ago Gringos, last year Master’s of Atlantis and recently Dog of the South, now Exit Velocity, I need to create some space. Probably will read some McCarthy [ One reviewer noted that True Grit is comparable to McCarthy’s Blood Meridian and funny. Don’t sleep on McCarthy’s sense of humor, see his many jokes in the Passenger… but admittedly no Portis ]. Norwood will come sooner than later. Thinking I may be ready for True Grit by the time I hit 90.

Ps. One final thought, and query that begs answer. There was mention of Portis observing a cockfight in Texas and an assortment of high rollers. Would love to know more about this, particularly did he make acquaintances with Charles Willeford? Or if not Willeford- perhaps Warren Oates? Reply below, much appreciated, thanks!

[Derek · Rating 4 out of 5]

For big Portis fans only. I loved his account of a trip he took through Baja. The interview is great too.

[Apronk]

The play was my favorite

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

Actual rating: 3.5 stars.

There's not a lot out there for die-hard Charles Portis fans. The five novels are thankfully back in print, but that's it, because that's all he's written. Other than, that is, a few hard-to-find short stories, a brief memoir, a play, and newspaper reportage from his days as a working journalist.

Editor Jay Jenkins has tracked down and assembled these short pieces in this anthology. It's must reading for Portis fans ... I certainly felt it was a must-read, at any rate ... but it's an appetizer, not a meal. My initial reaction to Portis' reportage was that it was like most reportage, confining itself to facts, but then I began to notice the details Portis included, particularly in his articles about southerners, racial integration, and the Ku Klux Klan. Quintessentially Portisian. The short stories, the long read about a car trip down the Baja peninsula, and the memoir are deeply satisfying and written in true Portis style: you will also see the origins of many themes Portis explored and developed in his later novels.

The anthology is worth the price for the memoir alone, let alone the rest, but still I must warn you that reading Escape Velocity is not quite the same experience as reading a Portis novel. I see now that if I want more Portis ... the real, undiluted Portis, that is ... I'm simply going to have to re-read the novels!

[Heronimo Gieronymus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Charles Portis is simply one of my very favourite novelists. I discovered him at the time he was generally being re-discovered around the turn of the century and had read all five of his novels by the time I was twenty-five or so. I had pretty highfalutin tastes as a young man (and the pretentious braggadocio to match) and think of encounters in my twenties w/ Charles Portis and Thomas Berger especially as decisive; it suddenly became clear that you could do the highest caliber of literary fiction in a way that was fun, funny, and accessible. At the turn of the century it still seemed possible that there might be more sizeable works by Portis forthcoming. There had been an eleven year gap between TRUE GRIT and THE DOG OF THE SOUTH. It was possible that we were experiencing another comparable gap. Still, there seemed to be a general sense in the air that he was done. And as of 2018, twenty-seven years after GRINGOS (may favourite Portis), the author eighty-four years of age, that definitely would seem to have been the case. (One small mercy is these are five novels of a high re-readability factor.) I have been sitting on my copy of ESCAPE VELOCITY: A CHARLES PORTIS MISCELLANY for the five years the paperback has existed, and my periodic flights of sorrowful musing on the larger Portis works that were never meant to be has finally found me seeking some succor between its covers. Much of the book is a revelation. A whole other bunch of it hits all them old sweet spots one would hope it would. The book is slightly broken up (everything categorized around genus of writing rather than being more generally chronological) but one gets a distinct sense of trajectory all the same. We begin w/ Portis the journalist and as such begin w/ the revelatory. We follow him from the MEMPHIS COMMERCIAL APPEAL to the ARKANSAS GAZETTE to the NEW YORK HERALD TRIBUNE where he would report right from the heart of early-sixties Southern civil rights calamity and eventually go on to be, of all things, the London Bureau chief. Portis could be a folksy and very funny columnist or a clear-eyed beat reporter covering the most harrowing of hard news w/ observational clarity and judicious use of language. His novel way of reporting back on life as he experiences it becomes more robust and filled-out in the travel writing he undertook during the period in which he had decided to quit journalism proper and become a novelist. "An Auto Odyssey through Darkest Baja" from 1967 has to be considered the highlight. Everything I love about Portis shines spiritedly in the wonderful account of a wild road trip. (It originally appeared in the same SUNDAY LOS ANGELES TIMES edition as an except from Hunter S. Thompson's in-progress HELL'S ANGELS!) The later travel piece "Motel Life, Lower Reaches" is also an absolute hoot. Two of the most exquisite surprises here might seem kind of surprising: my favourite of the short stories collected here is "Damn!," originally published 1957 when Portis was twenty-three; and my favourite thing in the whole goddamn collection might well be DELRAY'S NEW MOON, the only play Portis ever wrote, performed only by the Arkansas Repertory Theatre, and which editor Jay Jenning had to expend some effort tracking down as Portis never even held on to a single copy. Portis is a marvelous observer, forgiving of foibles, generous and full of good humour. He is a writer deeply embedded in the American South (though his novels would take us other places occasionally, Mexico especially) w/ all its quirks and particularities but has managed to produce writings of the broadest possible appeal. He is simply one of the greatest there ever was, and he has always worn that greatness w/ the same kind of casual humility that informs the writing itself. Jay Jennings deserves accolades for this collection. It is an act of love done on behalf of a man who was never one for publicity and self-promotion.

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

One of the joys of reading Charles Portis is that he has written only five books, and all of them are superb. You can pretty much dip your fishing line in anywhere and catch something great. The sadness of it is that the pleasure is very self-contained; once you've read them all, you'll never get to read them for the first time again. The mystery of watching these disparate tales unfold, most of them markedly different from the other, will add a lot of enjoyment to your life, but once you've finished the fifth book, you'll have dozens of questions. Portis is not exactly Salinger-level reclusive -- you can find him bumming around Little Rock somewhere -- but he doesn't give interviews (the consensus reason is more modesty than misanthropy), doesn't talk about his work, and, following 1991's "Gringos," a massive span of years has opened up in which no new large works by Charles Portis have appeared. There was a span of 11 years between "True Grit" (1968) and "The Dog of the South" (1979), but the span from "Gringos" to the present is deeper, darker, and more concerning. Has Buddy given the world all he has to give?

A bit of salve comes in the form of "Escape Velocity," dubbed a "Miscellany" by editor Jay Jennings, a fastidiously researched and compiled collection of small works by the author. It should go without saying, but if you haven't already read the five novels, do that first. There's certainly nothing wrong with this collection, but reading it first would be like listening to the director's commentary before you watched the movie. The primary purpose of this, apart from allowing us some humorous glances into the off-years, is for fanatics to try to get to the heart of Portis World. With this compendium of remainders, we Portis-philes will try to figure out where the man's been, and where he might be going.

Advisory: skip the intro, or at least save it until the end. Like a poorly-cut trailer, the intro tries to rope you in by giving you many of hte best lines in the book, robbing you of the job of discovering them yourself.

The book is divided into seven sections. Part one covers Portis the newspaperman, reproducing hard-to-find columns from papers like the Memphis Commercial Appeal and the Arkansas Gazette. Portis covered the death of Elvis' mother, a man fined for keeping a lion as a pet, and, most important historically, the civil rights struggle. Portis makes hay with his coverage of Klan meetings, wryly noting that, as the night wrapped up, the grand dragon exited majestically, "his car firing on about three cylinders." As Jennings notes, the worst thing you can be in Portis' world is a neglectful car owner. Like Mencken's early newspaper days, the sproutlings of the voice to come are already poking out of the ground. Portis' ear for dialects and turns of phrase serves him well in the weekly "Our Town" column he wrote in Arkansas, especially in his reply to a man saying the Mississippians have more colorful turns of phrase than Arkansans. "I once knew a man who would say 'These are some good cheese.'"

Part 2 is loosely referred to as "travel writing," but in truth, only half of the pieces involve travel stories. The other two, though traveling might have been involved, are researched stories about locations. "The New Sound from Nashville" is less about Portis' trip than the topography of the new emerging mecca for country music in the south. "The Forgotten River" covers the Ouachita River with great insight and obvious personal interest, but the results are a hard go. By comparison "An Auto Odyssey Through Darkest Baja" is a riot, a drug-free Hunter Thompson narrative fueled by south-of-the-border curiosity, a $350 pickup, and barely enough corned beef hash to make it to the next town. "Motel Life, Lower Reaches" looks back on five of the cheapest motels Portis ever occupied. Its 2005 pub date is encouraging for those of us who feared he'd fallen off the map altogether.

Despite his background in long fiction, the short story section takes up less than a twentieth of the book's entire acreage. His short fiction is SHORT. "Your Action Line" is a parody of the Parade Magazine-style Q&As, with the requests ("I'm looking for a good Japanese napkin-folding society"; "I need to write an article on the Ceylon Detective Ants. Don't tell me to visit the library; I've already been there.") turning ever more bizarre. "Nights Can Turn Cool in Viborra" hilariously spoofs Rick Steves'-style travel writers, a sturdy concept that seems like it could easily be turned into a full novel (hint, hint). "I Don't Talk Service No More" is short but powerful, a 3-page nugget that contains great insight into the human mind, with a final line like a punch in the skull. "The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth," again reassuringly published in this century, is a laugh-out-loud funny variation on the "infinite monkeys with infinite time can write Shakespeare" motif.

The memoir fragment, "Combinations of Jacksons," is the first of two places where I hoped to glean a little insight into Portis the writer, Portis the thinker, but the results are typically elusive. Portis talks a bit about his youth (trying to fashion a reed that he could use to breathe underwater, thus escaping from the Nazi armies in his mind), his family, and spends a good deal of it talking about the Confederate Army. It's beautifully written as always, but offers little on where the hell "Masters of Atlantis" came from.

The three-act play "Delray's New Moon," previously unpublished before this book, and performed only once in 1996, mixes sweet humor and melancholy, as a group of oldsters bide their time before being shipped off to a clearly exploitive home for the elderly. If your theater has been looking around for something that requires primarily older actors, check this one out. I don't read a lot of plays, but this one seemed pretty good to me.

Finally, I think as we enter part six, a 20-page interview with the author. Finally! Portis will give us a little peek behind the curtain, however brief, about where his ideas come from. Once again, we're treated to a bait-and-switch, as the interview is 100% about his days as an Arkansas newspaperman, conducted by one of his journalist colleagues for an anthology of interviews with the journalists of the Arkansas Gazette. It seems that my questions about Portis' choice of names (Reo Symes, Camacho Puut, Lamar Jimmerson, Norwood Pratt) are no closer to being answered than before. I guess I shouldn't have expected anything else.

Having now graduated from Portis academy reading every single stitch that's available to be read, I actually do recommend the tributes section, as it feels like you've just run a marathon (or maybe a half-marathon...it's only six books, after all, it's not like you just finished Chekhov's short works) and are now being embraced by a group of fellow marathoners, just happy that you crossed the finish line. Now you can all discuss the experience together! Ed Park's "Like Cormac McCarthy, But Funny" is especially nice, drawing together all sorts of connections between Portis' works that, as a newcomer to Portis U having only read each book once, hadn't noticed yet. He draws us through many of Portis' funniest lines and craziest moments, and gets as close as I could hope to some sort of Skeleton Key to Portis' inner world. Ron Rosenbaum, a confirmed scholar of secret societies, pokes and prods that side of Portis' personality in his discussion of "Masters of Atlantis," and much thanks must be given to him for this essay, as it was the primary engine that caused Overlook Press to reissue all five of Portis' books from their long exile in OOP status. Donna Tartt has a nice story about her whole family's love of "True Grit," too. I was hoping for a bit more from Wells Tower ("Everything Ravaged, Everything Burned"), who was supposed to help me understand why I should like "Gringos" as much as the other four books. But it didn't really work. I'll still give that book more chances in the years to come, but "I found a good line from the book about car noises that shut of my argumentative girlfriend" wasn't what I was looking for.

As you can see from my lengthy ramble above, a Portis fan almost always adds "-atic" to the end of that phrase. "Escape Velocity" is funny and fun and a great book to curl up with, but it's by nature an add-on to a slim body of work that should be consumed first (and without hesitation).

[Spiros · Rating 4 out of 5]

So, that’s it then: no more Charles Portis.
This is a very nice valedictory collection, but I’m sad not to have any more of his writings to uncover.

Standouts here are “An Auto Odyssey through Darkest Baja”, a journey Portis and his buddy Andy Davis took in a Studebaker pickup truck from Los Angeles to La Paz, in Baja California (published on the Home Section of the Los Angeles Times alongside an excerpt from Hunter S. Thompson’s “Hell’s Angels”), and a very talky, and very funny but probably not very stageworthy play called “Delray’s Blue Moon”. The last section of the book contains some nice tributes from other authors (hey, I’ve finally read something by Donna Tartt!), which annoyingly proves that my standard line “Charles Portis is what you would get if Cormac McCarthy had a sense of humor” is not as original thought as I thought it was.

For what it’s worth, my ranking of Portis’ novels:
1. True Grit
2.Norwood
3.Dog of the South
4.Masters of Atlantis
5.Gringos

[Ronnie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This compendium is a treat--a must-read for any true member of the Portis Society (mentioned in the Tributes section at the end). Only a couple of the 18 selections (not counting the five Tributes essays) weren't my cup of tea: "The Forgotten River" in the Travels section meandered on a little too long, and "Nights Can Turn Cool in Viborra" in the Short Stories section was a little too zany--definitely not the humor he's revered for among PS members, which comes out better in all the other selections in this section and in his novels. My favorite parts of the collection were the rare three-act play "Delray's New Moon," apparently the only drama Portis ever wrote, which I'd really like to see staged; "That New Sound from Nashville," a longish essay on the origins of country music that seems as comprehensive for its time as Ken Burns' documentary on the subject (which PBS aired in 2019, more than half a century after the Portis essay); "An Auto Odyssey through Darkest Baja," another essay in the Travels section that reminded me of Kerouac's On the Road, favorably; and "Motel Life, Lower Reaches"--maybe the best of the lot because it just seems an excellent yet brief distillation of the best parts of Norwood, The Dog of the South, and Gringos. Runner-up status goes to the short story "Damn!" because any piece involving snake oil and Elvis deserves a mention, "The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth" because ditto for any story involving typing monkeys, and "I Don't Talk Service No More" because it's just a little haunting.

[Dirk · Rating 3 out of 5]

Escape Velocity has the highest average rating of the several Charles Portis titles appearing on Goodreads, which might lead the uninitiated reader to think that it represents the author's best work. However, the title also has the lowest total number of ratings and reviews, which is consistent with a lot of the comments that this miscellany--consisting of early newspaper articles, essays, short fiction, a truncated memoir piece, one stage play, and an interview conducted in connection with a history of a newspaper for which Portis worked--is best suited for die-hard fans of the author. A person becomes a die-hard fan by reading Portis's novels, where his prose shines on nearly every page for its strong sense of place, oddball characters, powerful and unique narrative voice, and evidence of a very fine ear for quirky, colorful dialogue. Fans of Coen brothers movies were treated to such dialogue in their 2010 remake of True Grit, based on the Portis novel of the same name. The movie prompted a reissuance of that title and the other novels in his ouvre. Escape Velocity first appeared in 2012, perhaps as a result of publishers trying to squeeze more drops out of a producing cash cow. To be fair to Portis, much of the prose in this collection shines, too, but not as brilliantly or consistently as it does in his novels. There are gems here, but also rhinestones. If you want the author's crown jewels, start with his first long fiction, Norwood, and read straight through to Gringos.

[Zach Church · Rating 4 out of 5]

I imagine most Portis readers are Portis completists, so will read this front to back. But it could be read in sections, so:

Introduction - Great overview, fun, funny writing. Includes the best parts of the Tributes section.
Selected Newspaper Reporting and Writing - Pretty great! It's fun to see Portis trying things out. The brutal burn on the Klan is satisfying. Quick enough. Funny.
Travels - The best section. The Baja travels and 'Motel Life, Lower Reaches' are fantastic. I've read the motel thing a few times before and it's great every single time.
Short Stories - Generally very good. 'I don't talk service no more' is pretty haunting.
Memoir - Enjoyable. Worth reading.
Drama - The play could be skipped. It's funny and smart and a little sad, but reading plays is tough sometimes. And when everything else here moves so well it just sort of drags if you're reading everything straight through.
Interview - For the completist or the newspaper nerd. I am both.
Tributes - Hit or miss. The best parts are covered in the introduction. Donna Tartt's 'On True Grit' is great but don't read if you haven't read True Grit.

I really, really liked seeing how much Portis really thought of himself as a newspaper person. Overall, this is a fantastic book minus the play kind of dragging the rhythym sideways and some of the tributes being just OK. I'll def. read the baja piece again. Portis rules.

[Laurent Reinhardt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Received this as a gift from my brother Eric, who previously gave me The Dog of the South, Masters of the Universe and Gringos, all of which were great fun to read. I enjoyed all the different types of fiction and nonfiction writing here, even the play Delray's New Moon, which I saved for last, but ended up enjoying a great deal. Early in his career, Portis worked at the New York Herald Tribune, both in New York, where he was a colleague of Tom Wolfe and Sanche de Gramont/Ted Morgan, and then in London. This collection spans most of his career, showcasing his dry wit and what NPR called "the deadpan brilliance of his language." I also appreciated the interview with him and perspectives by other writers on his work. Great book for those looking for an intro or wanting to dig deeper after reading his more famous stuff, such as True Grit.
"By 10:30 p.m. one of the crosses had collapsed and the other was just smoldering. Everyone drifted away and the grand dragon of Mississippi disappeared grandly into the Southern night, his car engine hitting on about three cylinders." p49

[Judah Kosterman · Rating 2 out of 5]

This collection is (unapologetically) an argument for why one should seek out Portis' quintet of novels. By which I mean that Portis' dry wit, humor turning on human foibles, and a certain world-weariness come through clearly in his non-fiction as well as in some of his short stories. By which I also mean that this collection includes a script demonstrating why Portis wasn't a playwright, an interview about his newspaper days that's mostly namedropping or good ole' boy anecdotes, and several essays by other authors telling the reader to seek out Portis' novels. Read the newspaper articles, by all means. Travel Baja California at magazine-length with Portis and his buddy. Read, at least twice, the achingly beautiful "I Don't Talk Service No More." Take "The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth" as an antidote to a bad day of writer's block. Then put down this lackluster collection and go back to searching used book stores for Portis' novels.

[David Hallstrom · Rating 3 out of 5]

Portis is a great novelist. I highly recommend all five of his novels. His miscellany should be of interest to serious fans only.

Escape Velocity begins in a promising fashion. Portis's days as a newspaper writer are lively and present and makes me miss what was a norm in newspaper reporting in this country.

This is followed by some very strong magazine work, some solid short stories and the gem of this collection, a memoir "Combinations of Jacksons".

And it is pretty much downhill from there. There is a play that takes up 1/4 of the book and mainly serves notice that Portis was no playwright. There is an interview about his newspaper days that needs editing and finally there are "Tributes" from other authors of which the Roy Blount, Jr. is good, and the Donna Tartt piece is spectacular. The others range from mediocre to downright bad.

I am being generous with my three-star rating because I like Portis. Collecting his non-novel work was a good idea but this collection needed a steadier hand at the helm.

[Robert Morgan Fisher · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thoroughly enjoyed the lost writings of Portis, who is a giant of American Literature and probably the most gift comic novelist of all time. Any one of his five novels will make you laugh out loud. Masters of Atlantis has been dubbed "the funniest novel ever written" by many who should know.

This was obviously a labor of love for Jay Jennings, who knew the reclusive Portis and compiled boxes of newspaper articles from his days at the NY Herald Tribune and the Arkansas Gazette (many with historical importance) as well as essays, short stories and tributes from the likes of Roy Bl0unt, Jr. and Donna Tartt.

I didn't care for the inclusion of his rather dreadful play, Delray's New Moon--but hey, why not? Put it all in. There's only one stage play--the rest of the pieces more than make up for it.

[Stephen Rynkiewicz]

The late author of "True Grit" has an long reputation as an underrated novelist. This collection reaches back to his roots in newspaper writing, where he cultivated an ear for Southern dialect ("These sure are good cheese") and in reporting on the 1963 Birmingham race riots, deadpan observation ("At 7:30 p.m. a call came through the motel switchboard, warning that the motel would be bombed that night. It was a straight tip.") The style carries over in magazine articles (the Nashville music scene) that still hold up well, and a few wicked satires that really should not, except that they're drenched in the bemused nostalgia of his novels. Travel writers and newspaper action lines would otherwise be easy pickings for a big-time author serialized in the Saturday Evening Post.

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Of all the stuff in here, I enjoyed the journalism and Roy Reed interview best. Knowing the Portis mind a bit, it's sort of fascinating to see him "try" to be a straight newspaperman. Portisisms shine through and make me chuckle.

Did you know he was on the beat during desegregation in the South? He was there, man.

The Roy Reed interview was mostly just them reminiscing about people they both knew from the journalism careers. I have read Reed's Looking for Hogeye, a book I was drawn to for its rural and close-to-home (Arkansas) flavors. Portis, also an Arkansasan, feels like family too. I can hear these two guys talking just like uncles on my grandpa's dinner table.

Recommended for anyone else interested in following the Mindwest literary tradition.

[Dave N · Rating 4 out of 5]

A great compliment to Portis's novels. His short stories and his one play were very worth the read. In fact, "I Don't Talk Service No More" is on par with the best of Raymond Carver. But don't overlook his writing for the Our Town column in the Arkansas Gazette, which cut a fine line between his near-absurdist writing (see "Nights Can Turn Cool in Viborra") and his more serious writing about Arkansas. This is all supplemented by Jay Jennings's great introduction and the other articles and interview's he has curated for the book. If you love any of Portis's work, I recommend reading this.

[Nomax]

Read in grim curiosity if Charles portis turned out to be hella racist. The report he did for the Littlerock paper about school integration was representative I think, it's like a joke piece where he just reports on the number of reporters who came to see the schools get integrated. It's got a play he wrote in the 90s iirc which I guess is interesting if you wonder how he'd preferred to see his own work get adapted as it sheds a little light on it

[Luana · Rating 4 out of 5]

A solid alternative to a full-on Portis monograph, as it would seem to be in the man's character to background himself and let the writing do the, uh, talking.

The civil rights protest reporting is worth it by itself, even if you're not a Portis-head. Personally, I would NEVER let anyone forget that Malcolm X thought I was the least annoying whitey among a bunch of New York reporters.

I'd loved to have seen "Delray's New Moon" performed with actual oldies and kids.

[Nog · Rating 5 out of 5]

Worth picking up for "Delray's New Moon" alone. Not a lot happens in this play, but that's beside the point. Or maybe that's the point. Anyway, I haven't laughed out loud at some writing since - well, since last time I read a Portis book. The Motel vignettes are really good, too.

Hopefully the editor will unearth more stuff from Charles' attic.

[Leigh · Rating 3 out of 5]

My favorite part of this is his travel writing. The Motel Life story made me laugh out loud. I also have to recognize Donna Tartt’s introduction to True Grit. She is the reason I picked up Portis in the first place as I was impressed she admired his writing so much. Very worthwhile.

[Nathaniel · Rating 5 out of 5]

A treasure trove for Portis fans. His memoir “Combinations of Jacksons” and his play “Delray’s New Moon” are the standouts, but every piece is essential reading. RIP Charles Portis, one of the greats.

[Rob Saucedo · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was gifted a copy of ESCAPE VELOCITY, a collection of non-fiction, short stories and a play from Charles Portis (TRUE GRIT). I've never read anything else by Portis but this book was such a fantastic read I'm determined to devour everything else by Portis I can get my hands on.

[Eric · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful collection of writings. A good place to start for people who want to explore more. My suggestion would be read some of this and let it take you to whatever Portis sticks out to you. Like a shopping list, maybe.

[George Soule · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really only of interest to hardcore Portis fans. Fascinating to read some of his newspaper reporting prior to his changing his stripes to become a writer of fiction. You should buy the book if only for the masterful and hilarious short story “Nights Can Turn Cool in Viborra”

[Bumex 4Breakfast · Rating 3 out of 5]

I feel like apologizing to the book because of the expectations I placed upon it. Don't make this the final Portis work you read because it's a lot of fluff. The 3 act play and short stories are classic Portis but everything else just feels like your panning for gold.