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LIEBLING AT HOME - FIVE COMPLETE CLASSICS IN ONE VOLUME
A.J. Liebling was one of America's finest and most influential journalists. Reprinted here in full The Telephone Booth Indian (1942) - a witty portrait of an unusual group of entrepreneurs. These Manhattan lowlifes conduct unsavory business from the telephones in the lobbies of office buildings. The Second City (1952) - a chronicle of life in the windy city as seen by an outsider, a New Yorker and avowed Francofile.'The Honest The Life and Times of Colonel John R. Stingo (1953) - a fond biography of Colonel Stingo, raconteur and track denizen of Runyonesque proportions.'The Earl of Louisiana' (1961) - which captures the essence of a uniquely American character, Earl Long."The Jollity Building' (1962) - Otherwise known as the Brill Building, which picks up Liebling's portrait of Manhattan's West Side begun in 'The Telephone Booth Indian'. Here are hacks and hustlers scrambling over one another, vying for the 'big break.'In all five volumes, both the exalted and obscure are treated with the insight, candor, and wit that are the hallmarks of Liebling's writing.
Unknown Binding
First published January 1, 1982
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About the author
A.J. Liebling
42 books73 followersAbbott Joseph "A. J." Liebling was an American journalist who was closely associated with The New Yorker from 1935 until his death.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
May 11, 2019
So I picked this one up at the central branch of the San Diego library, solely for the purpose of reading “The Telephone Booth Indian” and “The Honest Rainmaker”, which are long OOP. The others are included in my copy of LOA’s “The Sweet Science and Other Writings”, except for “Chicago”. Liebling has been anthologized a number of times, so it gets complicated when trying to find specific writings; for instance, “The Jollity Building” is both a chapter in TTBI and part of the book TJB. Not only that, but one chapter of TJB is called “Yea Verily” and is an excerpt of THR. Got that?
TTBI contains 10 chapters, each a piece written for The New Yorker between 1937 and 1942. Other writings from this period are contained in “Back Where I Came From”, which also contains the remaining stories that are included in TJB. (By the way, there was no building called Jollity in NYC; it is either a composite of several buildings on Broadway, or primarily the Brill Building.) What this material has in common is Liebling’s fondness for writing about the unusual people living in New York City at the time. In fact, it’s hard to imagine these sorts of people surviving in today’s NYC; for one thing, the streets and buildings have been transformed over the decades into infrastructures that could not possibly support these curious livelihoods. The sorts of scams and cons he writes about have now moved into cyberspace.
But that’s what I find so charming about Joe’s books — he describes a world so different from ours, and does so with bemusement and just terrific turns of phrase. He often provides direct quotes from his subjects, so you can relish the 1930’s NY-speak and the subjective realities of some really colorful characters.
Having said that, some of the pieces in TTBI are not really compelling; I found the piece on the Schuberts and their success on Broadway rather stiff, which surprised me. The piece on the Scripps-Howard publishing empire is a lot better; so far, every bit of his writing about the press I’ve read has been interesting and revealing about publishers. Also, these early sports pieces were disappointing, full of details that I found pretty boring, actually. The piece on the rise of the “hat check” business in NYC was good, though.
The Scripps name is familiar to all of us San Diego residents. E.W. Scripps bought a ranch here in 1898 for health reasons and named it Miramar; his publishing empire was headquartered in Ohio. Early on he founded the Scripps Institute of Oceanography (1903). HIs ranch lands now make up the bedroom community of Scripps Ranch and the Miramar Naval Air Station.
Then there is The Honest Rainmaker, which has its moments but is overall a disappointment. I believe some of the Colonel Stingo writings are in collections I haven’t gotten to yet. At 165 pages, this is way too much about the man; much of the book consists of Stingo’s writings or verbalizations of them, and one wonders if Liebling had a wire recorder or one of the early magnetic tape recorders to capture his distinctive voice with its odd ways of articulation. At any rate, some descriptions of his antics as a rainmaker or in business of selling horse racing information I found pretty boring. Liebling’s own voice takes a backseat, which is a shame.
This collection can be recommended to Liebling completists, but with the LOA volumes and various other collections available, it’s nonessential.
TTBI contains 10 chapters, each a piece written for The New Yorker between 1937 and 1942. Other writings from this period are contained in “Back Where I Came From”, which also contains the remaining stories that are included in TJB. (By the way, there was no building called Jollity in NYC; it is either a composite of several buildings on Broadway, or primarily the Brill Building.) What this material has in common is Liebling’s fondness for writing about the unusual people living in New York City at the time. In fact, it’s hard to imagine these sorts of people surviving in today’s NYC; for one thing, the streets and buildings have been transformed over the decades into infrastructures that could not possibly support these curious livelihoods. The sorts of scams and cons he writes about have now moved into cyberspace.
But that’s what I find so charming about Joe’s books — he describes a world so different from ours, and does so with bemusement and just terrific turns of phrase. He often provides direct quotes from his subjects, so you can relish the 1930’s NY-speak and the subjective realities of some really colorful characters.
Having said that, some of the pieces in TTBI are not really compelling; I found the piece on the Schuberts and their success on Broadway rather stiff, which surprised me. The piece on the Scripps-Howard publishing empire is a lot better; so far, every bit of his writing about the press I’ve read has been interesting and revealing about publishers. Also, these early sports pieces were disappointing, full of details that I found pretty boring, actually. The piece on the rise of the “hat check” business in NYC was good, though.
The Scripps name is familiar to all of us San Diego residents. E.W. Scripps bought a ranch here in 1898 for health reasons and named it Miramar; his publishing empire was headquartered in Ohio. Early on he founded the Scripps Institute of Oceanography (1903). HIs ranch lands now make up the bedroom community of Scripps Ranch and the Miramar Naval Air Station.
Then there is The Honest Rainmaker, which has its moments but is overall a disappointment. I believe some of the Colonel Stingo writings are in collections I haven’t gotten to yet. At 165 pages, this is way too much about the man; much of the book consists of Stingo’s writings or verbalizations of them, and one wonders if Liebling had a wire recorder or one of the early magnetic tape recorders to capture his distinctive voice with its odd ways of articulation. At any rate, some descriptions of his antics as a rainmaker or in business of selling horse racing information I found pretty boring. Liebling’s own voice takes a backseat, which is a shame.
This collection can be recommended to Liebling completists, but with the LOA volumes and various other collections available, it’s nonessential.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews