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Boswell
Fiction. BOSWELL is Stanley Elkin's first and funniest the comic odyssey of a twentieth-century groupie who collects celebrities as his insurance policy against death. James Boswell--strong man, professional wrestler (his most heroic match is with the Angel of Death)-- is a con man, a gate crasher, and a moocher of epic talent. He is also the "hero of one of the most original novel in years" (Oakland Tribune)--a man on the make for all the great men of his time--his logic being that if you can't be a lion, know a pride of them. Can he cheat his way out of mortality? "No serious funny writer in this country can match him" (New York Times Book Review).
448 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1964
13 people are currently reading
280 people want to read
About the author
Stanley Elkin
53 books126 followersStanley Lawrence Elkin was a Jewish American novelist, short story writer, and essayist. His extravagant, satirical fiction revolves around American consumerism, popular culture, and male-female relationships.
During his career, Elkin published ten novels, two volumes of novellas, two books of short stories, a collection of essays, and one (unproduced) screenplay. Elkin's work revolves about American pop culture, which it portrays in innumerable darkly comic variations. Characters take full precedence over plot.
His language throughout is extravagant and exuberant, baroque and flowery, taking fantastic flight from his characters' endless patter. "He was like a jazz artist who would go off on riffs," said critic William Gass. In a review of George Mills, Ralph B. Sipper wrote, "Elkin's trademark is to tightrope his way from comedy to tragedy with hardly a slip."
About the influence of ethnicity on his work Elkin said he admired most "the writers who are stylists, Jewish or not. Bellow is a stylist, and he is Jewish. William Gass is a stylist, and he is not Jewish. What I go for in my work is language."
During his career, Elkin published ten novels, two volumes of novellas, two books of short stories, a collection of essays, and one (unproduced) screenplay. Elkin's work revolves about American pop culture, which it portrays in innumerable darkly comic variations. Characters take full precedence over plot.
His language throughout is extravagant and exuberant, baroque and flowery, taking fantastic flight from his characters' endless patter. "He was like a jazz artist who would go off on riffs," said critic William Gass. In a review of George Mills, Ralph B. Sipper wrote, "Elkin's trademark is to tightrope his way from comedy to tragedy with hardly a slip."
About the influence of ethnicity on his work Elkin said he admired most "the writers who are stylists, Jewish or not. Bellow is a stylist, and he is Jewish. William Gass is a stylist, and he is not Jewish. What I go for in my work is language."
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
December 6, 2023
On the whole Boswell is an original novel but it is a bit short on integrity and it is too much on the slapstick side.
James Boswell is a healthy strong man but he is obsessed with thanatophobia. James Boswell is a penniless man but he is a collector – he collects celebrities and he worships the famous.
Fools and dunces have their own philosophy…
Something happens. It’s a life principle. Wheels turn. Conditions ripen. It isn’t much, you think? Lover, it is all I have. Don’t forget it and you will be happy and you will go far.
James Boswell is a healthy strong man but he is obsessed with thanatophobia. James Boswell is a penniless man but he is a collector – he collects celebrities and he worships the famous.
Life was economics. To be alive was to be a consumer. They made a profit on us always. There were no bargains. I saw that to struggle in vain was stupid, to be on the losing side was stupid, but there was nothing one could do.
Fools and dunces have their own philosophy…
August 7, 2019
Achieving Greatness
Elkin’s comedy in all his novels is based on his observation of unusual ‘types’ in unfamiliar situations: the kindly but hapless peripatetic small businessman; the New York Jewish widow retired in Spanish Florida; the criminal ‘only Jew in town’ who likes it that way; the itinerant talk-show radio host who would like to murder his listeners; the rabbi who finds his calling doing nothing but burials in the marshes of New Jersey. All are off-beat, slightly grotesque, and, well, charming despite it all.
Elkin’s literary ‘formula’ is remarkable. Through his skill in keeping his characters human, the reader gets to understand how they get to be the way they have become. There is method in their madnesses; they have purposes which are understandable even if the methods used to achieve them are mis-directed and less than effective. Even in Boswell, his first novel, the reprehensible, con-man protagonist, James Boswell, is likeable in his inadequacies. His failure is his success, or, just as aptly, he achieves success in his failure.
“Moses, Jesus, Marx, Einstein and Freud - the five greatest Jews.” If James Boswell could not achieve the glow of their degree of celebrity, he could at least warm his feet in its heat. Reputation is the foundation of civilisation, is it not? And that depends on whom and what you claim to know and do, not whom you actually know and what you actually do. Self-promotion is the source of reputation and therefore civilisation’s most valuable skill.
And Boswell certainly has achieved a reputation - a celebrity for chasing celebrity. The fact that what he really craves is his lost family and familial love makes his life a tragedy. No amount of celebrity can meet his need for affection. But his self-consciousness of the fact allows him to be comedic. “I am no respector of persons save my own,” he says with a self-aware honesty. It’s a finely tuned literary balancing act; and Elkin consistently pulls it off.
Boswell has a definite contemporary relevance and is more ‘modern’ than Elkin could have conceived it becoming. It’s Trump of course. “I am a strategist, an arranger, a schemer, but there is nothing sinister about me,” he admits. He really doesn’t consider himself evil in any way. And he’s right: what you see us what you get. He is a victim of circumstances in his own mind not a villain. His goal in life is constituted by the activities he undertakes. He cares little about the quality of result, just the doing, the being at the centre of the action, more importantly at the centre of attention. His celebrity is his claim to celebrity. Is it his fault that he craves the spotlight? He had a deprived childhood.
Boswell’s mentor is the renowned Dr. Leon Herlitz, an identifier and promoter of talent. This Roy Cohn figure knows exactly what to make of Boswell, the teenager and sets him on his life’s course: “All right, why not? I have made doctors, scientists, bankers, artists, presidents. Why not a bum? Why not a great bum?” The greatest bum the world has ever known. Yes, this is also greatness. One will never be unrecognised in a crowd ever again. Love is uncertain and ends in death; notoriety is forever, or at least for long enough for death to be defeated in its finality.
Herlitz has no doubt about the specific talent of his protege: “You’re an utzer.” This is a perfect but typically untranslatable Yiddishism for one who needles, whines, bugs, and mixes in where he has no business. A professional ‘nudge’ in other words. He’s always there, either as self-obsessed booster or equally self-obsessed contrarian as the need arises. He is a lapdog licking the hands of the powerful, or a gadfly stinging their necks.
Strangely it is Boswell’s awareness of his finite humanity that saves him from being merely a tragic buffoon. “No one believes in death... Except me,” he says. For him “death is realer than life.” Paradoxically, this acceptance of death is the result of a great virtue which is the source, one realises eventually, of Boswell’s charm - the virtue of hope. One cannot have faith in tomorrow because tomorrow does not exist; it never will exist. So faith in it would be vain. But one can have hope, even for that, no especially for that, which does not exist. And for, of course, something like greatness.
Elkin’s Boswell gives me a new perspective on Trump. Yes, he is arrogant, and vacuous, and self-serving in everything he does. But he is not just a tragic human being. He is also comic. And his comedic traits could just possibly be generated by the same awareness of death which motivates Boswell. Trump has faith in nothing, particularly not in himself. But he does hope; he hopes desperately that the tragedy of his life will be redeemed by the promise made by the real Roy Cohn, namely that he can be the greatest bum of all time.
Elkin’s comedy in all his novels is based on his observation of unusual ‘types’ in unfamiliar situations: the kindly but hapless peripatetic small businessman; the New York Jewish widow retired in Spanish Florida; the criminal ‘only Jew in town’ who likes it that way; the itinerant talk-show radio host who would like to murder his listeners; the rabbi who finds his calling doing nothing but burials in the marshes of New Jersey. All are off-beat, slightly grotesque, and, well, charming despite it all.
Elkin’s literary ‘formula’ is remarkable. Through his skill in keeping his characters human, the reader gets to understand how they get to be the way they have become. There is method in their madnesses; they have purposes which are understandable even if the methods used to achieve them are mis-directed and less than effective. Even in Boswell, his first novel, the reprehensible, con-man protagonist, James Boswell, is likeable in his inadequacies. His failure is his success, or, just as aptly, he achieves success in his failure.
“Moses, Jesus, Marx, Einstein and Freud - the five greatest Jews.” If James Boswell could not achieve the glow of their degree of celebrity, he could at least warm his feet in its heat. Reputation is the foundation of civilisation, is it not? And that depends on whom and what you claim to know and do, not whom you actually know and what you actually do. Self-promotion is the source of reputation and therefore civilisation’s most valuable skill.
And Boswell certainly has achieved a reputation - a celebrity for chasing celebrity. The fact that what he really craves is his lost family and familial love makes his life a tragedy. No amount of celebrity can meet his need for affection. But his self-consciousness of the fact allows him to be comedic. “I am no respector of persons save my own,” he says with a self-aware honesty. It’s a finely tuned literary balancing act; and Elkin consistently pulls it off.
Boswell has a definite contemporary relevance and is more ‘modern’ than Elkin could have conceived it becoming. It’s Trump of course. “I am a strategist, an arranger, a schemer, but there is nothing sinister about me,” he admits. He really doesn’t consider himself evil in any way. And he’s right: what you see us what you get. He is a victim of circumstances in his own mind not a villain. His goal in life is constituted by the activities he undertakes. He cares little about the quality of result, just the doing, the being at the centre of the action, more importantly at the centre of attention. His celebrity is his claim to celebrity. Is it his fault that he craves the spotlight? He had a deprived childhood.
Boswell’s mentor is the renowned Dr. Leon Herlitz, an identifier and promoter of talent. This Roy Cohn figure knows exactly what to make of Boswell, the teenager and sets him on his life’s course: “All right, why not? I have made doctors, scientists, bankers, artists, presidents. Why not a bum? Why not a great bum?” The greatest bum the world has ever known. Yes, this is also greatness. One will never be unrecognised in a crowd ever again. Love is uncertain and ends in death; notoriety is forever, or at least for long enough for death to be defeated in its finality.
Herlitz has no doubt about the specific talent of his protege: “You’re an utzer.” This is a perfect but typically untranslatable Yiddishism for one who needles, whines, bugs, and mixes in where he has no business. A professional ‘nudge’ in other words. He’s always there, either as self-obsessed booster or equally self-obsessed contrarian as the need arises. He is a lapdog licking the hands of the powerful, or a gadfly stinging their necks.
Strangely it is Boswell’s awareness of his finite humanity that saves him from being merely a tragic buffoon. “No one believes in death... Except me,” he says. For him “death is realer than life.” Paradoxically, this acceptance of death is the result of a great virtue which is the source, one realises eventually, of Boswell’s charm - the virtue of hope. One cannot have faith in tomorrow because tomorrow does not exist; it never will exist. So faith in it would be vain. But one can have hope, even for that, no especially for that, which does not exist. And for, of course, something like greatness.
Elkin’s Boswell gives me a new perspective on Trump. Yes, he is arrogant, and vacuous, and self-serving in everything he does. But he is not just a tragic human being. He is also comic. And his comedic traits could just possibly be generated by the same awareness of death which motivates Boswell. Trump has faith in nothing, particularly not in himself. But he does hope; he hopes desperately that the tragedy of his life will be redeemed by the promise made by the real Roy Cohn, namely that he can be the greatest bum of all time.
November 15, 2019
Stanley Elkin’s BOSWELL: A MODERN COMEDY is hilarious. Please do yourself a favor and read it as soon as possible.
For a while now, I have considered Woody Allen’s GETTING EVEN, an early collection of short pieces written for magazines, the funniest single volume that I have ever read. But now, I have to wonder if BOSWELL does not surpass Allen. I wonder too, if BOSWELL did not inspire some of Allen’s material. BOSWELL was published in 1964. Allen’s GETTING EVEN pieces were written later in time, I believe. They share a common comedic sensibility.
James Boswell, Elkin’s protagonist, is unique in my reading. When we meet him, he is barely more than a child. An orphan in his late teens, he lives with his uncle in St. Louis. Boswell is an unlikeable mooch. He lacks ambition or any discernable talent except that he is big and strong. He fathered a child when he was fifteen, but has no contact with his son.
The book, which lacks a central plot, takes shape when young Boswell meets a character, of some notoriety himself, who takes credit for directing the careers of others toward fame and celebrity. He predicts that Boswell will never be a celebrity on his own, but Boswell will be the companion of celebrities. The chapter including this exchange is funny beyond description. The prognostication of Boswell’s future is delivered in the manner of Billy Crystal doing schtick on a hyper and deranged Rabbi come to America from Eastern Europe. I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. Elkin seems to have had a unique gift for this kind of comedy.
Boswell fills his time by training at a local gym. He trains to be a strong man. Not a body builder, but a strong man as in a circus or a vaudevillian exhibition. Boswell seeks out a retired, but once famous strong man of that sort. They become friends. (Much of the book is about Boswell’s ability to attach himself to celebrities and this is a good early example of that talent.) But the business of being a strongman has changed. So Boswell allows himself to be talked into becoming a professional wrestler instead.
Surprisingly, Boswell enjoys success in professional wrestling. His alter ego, the Masked Playboy, is popular with the fans. Boswell works his way up and is regarded as an up and coming contender for the title. Then he is scheduled for a match against the Grim Reaper, who Elkin implies may be an agent for the Angel of Death. The Reaper is ancient. In fact, no one knows just how old he is. And the Reaper never loses. Boswell’s career as a professional wrestler ends abruptly when the Grim Reaper beats him badly, sending Boswell to the hospital for a long convalescence. During the convalescence, Boswell’s uncle tries to reconcile Boswell to his lost son, but being a complete shirker, Boswell refuses to accept any relationship with his boy.
Thereafter, Boswell embarks upon a rather successful career pursuing and befriending celebrities. I don’t want to spoil the fun, but he winds up marrying at the very top of the international A-list. Of course, that does not make him happy, but I won’t elaborate any further. You will have to read it for yourself. And I cannot imagine that you won’t enjoy it completely.
One final observation. The dust cover of the book frames Boswell’s very odd career as a response to a fear of death. That may be a bit of the explanation, certainly. But Boswell is not a neurotic and fear is not a big part of his psyche, except for the match with the Grim Reaper, which scares the wits out of him. In fact, Boswell is incredibly shallow. Far too shallow to be struggling with any sort of existential question concerning a search for a solution to the problem of death. Quite the contrary, Boswell is nothing more than a superficial consumer of celebrity. He is a groupie. There is no depth to him. Elkin is not moralizing. He is holding up a mirror to American popular culture in the second half of the 20th century. He does it without sarcasm or judgment. He simply records the absurdity of it all for our entertainment.
To end, I want to add a personal comment. Boswell’s occasional motto is: I have the strength of ten because my heart is pure. I did not know that, of course, until I read the book just recently. But 30 years ago, when I was a young lawyer, I appeared one day before the Honorable Milton I. Shadur in the federal court in Chicago. He had a fearsome intellect and I was in awe of him. I was alone that morning, but on the other side there were several lawyers opposing my motion. I said to Judge Shadur, “it looks like I am out-numbered, your honor.” He responded, “Not to worry, Mr. Lyerla; your strength is as the strength of ten because your heart is pure.” That, of course, unnerved the other lawyers and I won the motion. But ever since, I wondered where the line about a pure heart came from. Now I know.
For a while now, I have considered Woody Allen’s GETTING EVEN, an early collection of short pieces written for magazines, the funniest single volume that I have ever read. But now, I have to wonder if BOSWELL does not surpass Allen. I wonder too, if BOSWELL did not inspire some of Allen’s material. BOSWELL was published in 1964. Allen’s GETTING EVEN pieces were written later in time, I believe. They share a common comedic sensibility.
James Boswell, Elkin’s protagonist, is unique in my reading. When we meet him, he is barely more than a child. An orphan in his late teens, he lives with his uncle in St. Louis. Boswell is an unlikeable mooch. He lacks ambition or any discernable talent except that he is big and strong. He fathered a child when he was fifteen, but has no contact with his son.
The book, which lacks a central plot, takes shape when young Boswell meets a character, of some notoriety himself, who takes credit for directing the careers of others toward fame and celebrity. He predicts that Boswell will never be a celebrity on his own, but Boswell will be the companion of celebrities. The chapter including this exchange is funny beyond description. The prognostication of Boswell’s future is delivered in the manner of Billy Crystal doing schtick on a hyper and deranged Rabbi come to America from Eastern Europe. I laughed so hard tears came to my eyes. Elkin seems to have had a unique gift for this kind of comedy.
Boswell fills his time by training at a local gym. He trains to be a strong man. Not a body builder, but a strong man as in a circus or a vaudevillian exhibition. Boswell seeks out a retired, but once famous strong man of that sort. They become friends. (Much of the book is about Boswell’s ability to attach himself to celebrities and this is a good early example of that talent.) But the business of being a strongman has changed. So Boswell allows himself to be talked into becoming a professional wrestler instead.
Surprisingly, Boswell enjoys success in professional wrestling. His alter ego, the Masked Playboy, is popular with the fans. Boswell works his way up and is regarded as an up and coming contender for the title. Then he is scheduled for a match against the Grim Reaper, who Elkin implies may be an agent for the Angel of Death. The Reaper is ancient. In fact, no one knows just how old he is. And the Reaper never loses. Boswell’s career as a professional wrestler ends abruptly when the Grim Reaper beats him badly, sending Boswell to the hospital for a long convalescence. During the convalescence, Boswell’s uncle tries to reconcile Boswell to his lost son, but being a complete shirker, Boswell refuses to accept any relationship with his boy.
Thereafter, Boswell embarks upon a rather successful career pursuing and befriending celebrities. I don’t want to spoil the fun, but he winds up marrying at the very top of the international A-list. Of course, that does not make him happy, but I won’t elaborate any further. You will have to read it for yourself. And I cannot imagine that you won’t enjoy it completely.
One final observation. The dust cover of the book frames Boswell’s very odd career as a response to a fear of death. That may be a bit of the explanation, certainly. But Boswell is not a neurotic and fear is not a big part of his psyche, except for the match with the Grim Reaper, which scares the wits out of him. In fact, Boswell is incredibly shallow. Far too shallow to be struggling with any sort of existential question concerning a search for a solution to the problem of death. Quite the contrary, Boswell is nothing more than a superficial consumer of celebrity. He is a groupie. There is no depth to him. Elkin is not moralizing. He is holding up a mirror to American popular culture in the second half of the 20th century. He does it without sarcasm or judgment. He simply records the absurdity of it all for our entertainment.
To end, I want to add a personal comment. Boswell’s occasional motto is: I have the strength of ten because my heart is pure. I did not know that, of course, until I read the book just recently. But 30 years ago, when I was a young lawyer, I appeared one day before the Honorable Milton I. Shadur in the federal court in Chicago. He had a fearsome intellect and I was in awe of him. I was alone that morning, but on the other side there were several lawyers opposing my motion. I said to Judge Shadur, “it looks like I am out-numbered, your honor.” He responded, “Not to worry, Mr. Lyerla; your strength is as the strength of ten because your heart is pure.” That, of course, unnerved the other lawyers and I won the motion. But ever since, I wondered where the line about a pure heart came from. Now I know.
August 20, 2019
“My life is therapeutic,“ I said. “My life is a cure for my life.“ Stanley Elkin is for real. In another book he says, “I need, I need“, not too many writers reveal that much. We are indeed the person who matters most to us; we can still be generous and kind but this is a truth that Elkin accepts and works.
A Boswell is a person who has derivative importance, a chronicler of the Great. Is that enough? We all recognize the, “talismanic power of the autograph book.” Boswell is, “the sort of Peeping Tom that Power needs to have outside its windows.“ But isn’t this a form of settling? He says, “‘I could have been the champion-‘ We are instinctively ironists, tricky tragedians.”
“I was a fourth - Boswell, the worlds sad fourth, who played other peoples games by other people’s rules. A reader of labels, of directions, a consumer on the most human of levels. Vampire. Sancho. Jerk.”
The novel is often laugh out loud funny but in a laughing at our foibles way, and. like Saul Bellow he can and does use just the right Yiddish word at the right time when no other will do. He speaks to our own self perceived heroism, “it was in making something out of the gray, moral middle ground that greatness lay.”
A Boswell is a person who has derivative importance, a chronicler of the Great. Is that enough? We all recognize the, “talismanic power of the autograph book.” Boswell is, “the sort of Peeping Tom that Power needs to have outside its windows.“ But isn’t this a form of settling? He says, “‘I could have been the champion-‘ We are instinctively ironists, tricky tragedians.”
“I was a fourth - Boswell, the worlds sad fourth, who played other peoples games by other people’s rules. A reader of labels, of directions, a consumer on the most human of levels. Vampire. Sancho. Jerk.”
The novel is often laugh out loud funny but in a laughing at our foibles way, and. like Saul Bellow he can and does use just the right Yiddish word at the right time when no other will do. He speaks to our own self perceived heroism, “it was in making something out of the gray, moral middle ground that greatness lay.”
April 3, 2017
It’s been too long now since I read this to give it a proper review. It’s Elkin, so read it. May I recommend my erotic memoir's sequel, All Cummers: Sticky Floors and Stickier Ceilings in the Abattoir of Obsession, as well?
May 23, 2017
It's definitely original. But is is truly funny or is it a tragedy with some funny bits? The title, Boswell-A Modern Comedy, promised more than it delivered. If it had just been "Boswell", I might not have had expectations that, for me, were not delivered.
September 30, 2021
Fairly fantastic little ditty involving fame, celebrity, cult of personality, and hero-worship via autobiographical wonderings of one of the nameless, faceless masses who has the opportunity to flirt with greatness. Really quite stellar.
January 20, 2013
Although this book contain lots of comic bits, which taken separately were quite humorous it was ultimately a tragedy. The sadness of the book and its main' character is encapsulated by "I realized that I knew no number, that although I could give her the unlisted phone number of half the celebrities in New York, I didn't even know the number of a good doctor." Boswell spends his life collecting celebrities and "great" people, but ultimately ends up alone. Stanley Elkin is a genius at characterization and it had some penetrating insights (see the first quote below), and I defiantly want to read more of his work. One negative to the book was I was left wincing at its chauvinism and racial stereotyping.
Quotes:
On Anthropology:
pg. 374 "How many of you have ever stopped to consider what an unspoiled culture actually is? It's one without proper facilities for sanitation, without electricity, without hospitals or a balanced diet or a vaccination program. Anything, in fact, which might extend, longevity by a single day may be said to contribute to cultural spoilage."
On Life:
"To be inside when it was raining, warm it was cold, to be able to sleep, to move your bowels regularly, to throw peanut butter sandwiches at your hunger----this was living. "
Quotes:
On Anthropology:
pg. 374 "How many of you have ever stopped to consider what an unspoiled culture actually is? It's one without proper facilities for sanitation, without electricity, without hospitals or a balanced diet or a vaccination program. Anything, in fact, which might extend, longevity by a single day may be said to contribute to cultural spoilage."
On Life:
"To be inside when it was raining, warm it was cold, to be able to sleep, to move your bowels regularly, to throw peanut butter sandwiches at your hunger----this was living. "
September 16, 2019
I liked it, but it was a plodding and sometimes awkward read. Ostensibly the story of a young man's search for the meaning of greatness in a series of encounters with people who have achieved it, or so he thinks. Amid misinterpretations of advice from the 'greats' and the protagonist comically fumbling around to make his mark, there is little drama to drive the plot forward, and frankly not much to recommend caring about Boswell, who comes off as a fool at best and manipulative at worst. And what does he learn from his journey? Essentially that he's an egomaniac, and in spite of lying about his name, eventually can't get admittance to the club he's created for own edification. Sounds sort of grim, I know, but aside from rookie missteps ie. overwriting and sometimes, vague, obtuse and confusing sentences, what keeps you reading Elkin's debut novel is his wicked sense of humor, and the gems of insight he occasionally stumbles upon. You want to give the guy an A for effort.
February 2, 2013
Definitely a first novel. Definitely hilarious. And definitely heartbreakingly sharp. This novel is a stark and biting satire on our modern American culture's obsession with making money and being 'great'. There was a broad middle section that often dragged, and this actually made me feel how I did when I was reading The Savage Detectives. But, just like with TSD, there was a short third part that brought things back together to end it all.
April 18, 2013
Funny and painful, kind of like wrestling. Boswell is fascinating, and I'm going to be thinking about how for a long time. What is our relationship with celebrity, with life, with death? How do I go about putting off or confronting death? Is my voracious reading so different from Boswell's celebrity collecting?
Not that I lacked for any, but this book just gave me a lot more questions to ponder.
Not that I lacked for any, but this book just gave me a lot more questions to ponder.
May 5, 2014
Lots of funny parts and quite a few insightful ones, but it didn't hold together for me.
September 22, 2023
"Because my heart is pure, I have the strength of ten." Boswell's mantra became mine, though it wasn't true in either case. It's a funny book even three decades later.
October 30, 2014
What I said here
February 9, 2020
It’s hard to come to terms with the late Stanley Elkin’s 1964 debut novel, Boswell. Sections of it are almost unreadably dull or boring, and then you come to sections that display irresistibly wild comedy and pointed satire.
One thing for sure is that the narrator, James Boswell (yes, he’s actually named James Boswell), has to be one of the greatest orphans, misfits and con-artists in American literature. He says of himself: “Boswell is Boswell is Boswell. His truth is that the personality is simply another name for habit and that what we view as a fresh decision is only a rededication, a new way to get old things; that the evolving self is an illusion, fate just some final consequence. I have never surprised myself, come upon myself unaware. Always I know it’s me.”
For this reader, the book doesn’t finally hold together, but hard on the heels of one comic riff comes another. A trip to a questionable fertility doctor is followed by a vacation-of-the-month episode in which participants don’t know their destination until they get there.
I’m struck by what Richard Ford has said about Elkin: “Pushing the envelope has always been Stanley Elkin’s stock-in-trade … If we didn’t have him to read, we’d need to invent him. But we couldn’t come close.”
I came to this book by an odd route. Years ago, there was a quiz in a magazine in which you had to match opening passages with the novels in which they appear. One was: “Everybody dies. Everybody.” I couldn’t place it. I Googled it and came up with nothing. Recently, still stymied, I did a Facebook posting about this, and a former coworker came up with the book. It was Stanley Elkin’s Boswell.
One thing for sure is that the narrator, James Boswell (yes, he’s actually named James Boswell), has to be one of the greatest orphans, misfits and con-artists in American literature. He says of himself: “Boswell is Boswell is Boswell. His truth is that the personality is simply another name for habit and that what we view as a fresh decision is only a rededication, a new way to get old things; that the evolving self is an illusion, fate just some final consequence. I have never surprised myself, come upon myself unaware. Always I know it’s me.”
For this reader, the book doesn’t finally hold together, but hard on the heels of one comic riff comes another. A trip to a questionable fertility doctor is followed by a vacation-of-the-month episode in which participants don’t know their destination until they get there.
I’m struck by what Richard Ford has said about Elkin: “Pushing the envelope has always been Stanley Elkin’s stock-in-trade … If we didn’t have him to read, we’d need to invent him. But we couldn’t come close.”
I came to this book by an odd route. Years ago, there was a quiz in a magazine in which you had to match opening passages with the novels in which they appear. One was: “Everybody dies. Everybody.” I couldn’t place it. I Googled it and came up with nothing. Recently, still stymied, I did a Facebook posting about this, and a former coworker came up with the book. It was Stanley Elkin’s Boswell.
July 26, 2021
Stanley Elkin's ambitious first novel is a fine example of his ability to carry multiple story strands, ideas, settings, and timelines in a single novel like an experienced waiter carrying an enormous tray of dishes. That he can carry all this wobbly weight on the back of a morally dubious and selfish protagonist is even more impressive. That protagonist, James Boswell, like his historical namesake, has a knack for embedding himself in the lives of famous people. He figures celebrity is the only immortality, and if he can't be a great man, he can surround himself with great men. It's his only shot at beating death. Boswell, an orphan, ex-bodybuilder, ex-pro wrestler, and con artist, is never on the guest list, never has backstage passes, never has an invitation, but knows how to charm and intimidate and connive and gatecrash his way into the inner circles of politics, science, academia, religion, Hollywood, old money, big business, fine dining, and the revolution. Elkin has written a funny novel about unfunny things like death, power, selfishness (OK, selfishness is usually pretty funny), being on the outside looking in, and the loneliness in only ever being able to experience your own life and maybe not even accomplishing that.
November 14, 2020
Elkin certainly had a way with words. However, a way with words does not necessarily make a good novel. I found myself continuously distracted by the crafty, clever turns of phrase, and kept reading, but I kept coming back to the fact that this novel is just too meandering, the events too random, the whole thing just lacked structure or form. It's not that it lacked a cohesive theme, it just took up too much space and rambled on, sometimes pointlessly.
I wouldn't say that it is a funny book; there are some very funny dialogue exchanges and the scene where he wrestles with the Grim Reaper is hilarious, but overall it is just messy and at times very boring.
I wouldn't say that it is a funny book; there are some very funny dialogue exchanges and the scene where he wrestles with the Grim Reaper is hilarious, but overall it is just messy and at times very boring.
September 22, 2022
Probably should've removed a star for a very slow, laden middle. But why wouldn't I want a slow, laden middle of Elkin's writing???? Absolutely insane, always ecstatically energizing, manic even, and still somehow pulls of an illusion of directionless-ness -- which makes it kind of perfect.
October 23, 2022
You don't find writing like this anymore. There's a sort of literary humor that is extinct, where the language itself is what's funniest. Elkin improves, somehow, on this in The Franchiser.
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