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Basic Brown: My Life and Our Times
The one-time mayor of San Francisco and speaker of the California Assembly shares anecdotes from his formative years and political career, discussing his roles in the civil rights movement and the decriminalization of abortion and his work as a political analyst.
368 pages, Hardcover
First published February 5, 2008
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February 26, 2010
This isn't a typical political autobiography.
First of all, it was obviously written at the instigation of San Francisco Examiner reporter P.J. Corkery. Corkery knew that with the right encouragement, the ever ego-maniacal Brown would be more than willing to go into the sordid details of contemporary California politics in order to demonstrate his own substantial political skills. After all, this was the man who, while Mayor of San Francisco and while being investigated by the FBI for corruption, jumped at the chance to play a corrupt politician in the Godfather Part III. Corkery knew that Brown was not self-reflective enough to produce a work like this on his own initiative, but, given the chance, he would certainly lay down the nitty gritty about his life in politics. And he does, with verve.
Brown relates numerous instances where his ruthlessness helped him maintain power. For instance, when a number of legislators challenged Brown's position as Speaker of the California Assembly, he had capitol police remove their furniture onto the street and then had the would-be rebels depart into a sea of clamoring reporters before they even knew what had happened. When some Telegraph Hill citizens objected to his plans for a municipal garage, he had a city contractor bulldoze the area in the middle of a Friday night and broke ground before sunrise, long before anyone had a chance to formally object. Brown somehow also managed to finagle money out of FEMA to gilt City Hall and out of Amtrak to build a station in his almost deserted hometown in Texas. Overall this is a portrait of an unquestioned master at horse-trading.
Brown is unfortunately touchy, though, about anything to do with fundraising and its implications for politics. Considering the FBI's constant investigations of his office, he understands that modern federal "honest services" law makes almost any kind of quid pro quo a potential crime. So while he is shockingly honest about almost everything else, his masterful fundraising abilities remain a dark patch in the book.
Corkery clearly hoped that this book will serve as a kind of modern update on "Plunkitt of Tammany Hall." In a way it is exactly that. Instead of helping immigrants get into dockside jobs, Brown helps non-profit developers run by his friends build "affordable housing." Instead of worrying about the perils of civil service reform, Brown worries about dangers of campaign finance laws. He is a perfect modern Plunkitt.
So this book is a must for people interested in how power is exercised in America, written by a true master at the craft.
First of all, it was obviously written at the instigation of San Francisco Examiner reporter P.J. Corkery. Corkery knew that with the right encouragement, the ever ego-maniacal Brown would be more than willing to go into the sordid details of contemporary California politics in order to demonstrate his own substantial political skills. After all, this was the man who, while Mayor of San Francisco and while being investigated by the FBI for corruption, jumped at the chance to play a corrupt politician in the Godfather Part III. Corkery knew that Brown was not self-reflective enough to produce a work like this on his own initiative, but, given the chance, he would certainly lay down the nitty gritty about his life in politics. And he does, with verve.
Brown relates numerous instances where his ruthlessness helped him maintain power. For instance, when a number of legislators challenged Brown's position as Speaker of the California Assembly, he had capitol police remove their furniture onto the street and then had the would-be rebels depart into a sea of clamoring reporters before they even knew what had happened. When some Telegraph Hill citizens objected to his plans for a municipal garage, he had a city contractor bulldoze the area in the middle of a Friday night and broke ground before sunrise, long before anyone had a chance to formally object. Brown somehow also managed to finagle money out of FEMA to gilt City Hall and out of Amtrak to build a station in his almost deserted hometown in Texas. Overall this is a portrait of an unquestioned master at horse-trading.
Brown is unfortunately touchy, though, about anything to do with fundraising and its implications for politics. Considering the FBI's constant investigations of his office, he understands that modern federal "honest services" law makes almost any kind of quid pro quo a potential crime. So while he is shockingly honest about almost everything else, his masterful fundraising abilities remain a dark patch in the book.
Corkery clearly hoped that this book will serve as a kind of modern update on "Plunkitt of Tammany Hall." In a way it is exactly that. Instead of helping immigrants get into dockside jobs, Brown helps non-profit developers run by his friends build "affordable housing." Instead of worrying about the perils of civil service reform, Brown worries about dangers of campaign finance laws. He is a perfect modern Plunkitt.
So this book is a must for people interested in how power is exercised in America, written by a true master at the craft.
April 15, 2018
I read this some time ago so this will be brief.
Willie Brown is my favoriet scalawag. I can't approve of his methods to accomplish what he wants to accomplish, but a part of me cheers him on. The book describes a number of tricks he has utilized to cut through red tape and defeat his foes. All made me smile, reminding me of Wiley Coyote of the cartoons.
This book is pure Brown. Need I say more?
Willie Brown is my favoriet scalawag. I can't approve of his methods to accomplish what he wants to accomplish, but a part of me cheers him on. The book describes a number of tricks he has utilized to cut through red tape and defeat his foes. All made me smile, reminding me of Wiley Coyote of the cartoons.
This book is pure Brown. Need I say more?
December 7, 2009
When you’ve lived in Texas, politics in almost any other state seems tame. That’s true even of California, despite the occasional movie star turned politico. Which may be why the two most colorful politicians in recent California history came from Texas.
The first was Jesse Unruh, a corpulent good ol’ boy known as “Big Daddy,” who ruled the California State Assembly as speaker for eight years in the 1960s, and became a power broker in the national Democratic Party. Unruh grew up in a sharecropper family in the Panhandle town of Swenson and made his way west to Los Angeles as a teenager. A brilliant manipulator of people and money, Unruh is famous for two statements, one of them “Money is the mother’s milk of politics.” The other, quoted here in an expurgated version, is his advice to his fellow legislators: “If you can’t take the lobbyists’ money, eat their food, drink their booze, sleep with their women, and then vote against them, you don’t belong here.”
And then there’s the Machiavelli of Mineola, Willie Lewis Brown Jr., who approvingly quotes both of those statements by Unruh in “Basic Brown,” his engaging and sometimes outrageous memoir. Mr. Brown was born in segregation as well as poverty. His mother, the granddaughter of a slave, worked as a cook for a Dallas family, 80 miles away; she came home to Mineola only on weekends. In 1951, at the age of 17, Mr. Brown went to San Francisco to live with his uncle. Thirteen years later, he was elected to the California State Assembly, where Unruh became one of his acknowledged mentors. Most politicians, Mr. Brown says, “just want to do deals. I learned from Unruh that you could shape the game itself.” He followed in Unruh’s steps and became speaker in 1980, serving in that position until 1995. In 1996 he was elected mayor of San Francisco, and served until 2004.
Mr. Brown, one of the most prominent African-American politicians, tells us proudly, “I have never run for an assembly seat in a district that was more than 15 percent black.” But he is typically shrewd about the role of race in politics, observing that “as a black politician, you’re constantly having to spend energy to integrate yourself into the minds of white power brokers as a real, pure force of politics. You also have to spend as much time reintegrating yourself into the black community.” It’s a dynamic one can readily witness in the campaign of Barack Obama.
“Basic Brown” was compiled by San Francisco newspaper columnist P.J. Corkery from months of Saturday morning breakfast-table conversations. But Mr. Corkery is little more than an amanuensis: The voice here is unmistakably – for anyone who has witnessed him over the years – that of Willie Brown, right down to the references to himself as “Willie Brown,” which he does as frequently as Sen. Robert Dole used to invoke “Bob Dole.”
The epithet for Mr. Brown has always been “flamboyant.” Certainly, few American politicians have ever flaunted it the way he did: the $5,000 Italian suits from high-end clothier Wilkes Bashford, the Porsche that he used to make the 90-mile trip between San Francisco and Sacramento in about an hour (after making sure the Highway Patrol knew his license-plate number), the string of beautiful girlfriends. (He and his wife have been married for 50 years, but separated for 25.)
With visibility comes vulnerability, but “Basic Brown” is all about how his opponents – from the good-government organization Common Cause to the Republicans (and some Democrats) to the FBI – never laid a glove on him. It’s a lively saga with an underpinning of seriousness. For Mr. Brown, who now runs his own institute on politics and public service, essentially a consultancy for politicians, believes in making government work – even if you have to ignore, bend or break a few rules to do so.
Some of the book’s most entertaining anecdotes have to do with his mayoralty, trying to solve the myriad problems of an often fractious city. Those on the right who seem to think that liberals move in totalitarian lockstep apparently don’t know liberal San Francisco, where no cause lacks a constituency and at least two factions that oppose it. Mr. Brown tells how he succeeded in achieving a modicum of consensus, but also why he occasionally failed to solve problems that range from the treatment of the homeless to the demands of the 49ers for a new football stadium.
All politics is local, they say, and some of the political maneuvers in “Basic Brown” may not engage readers outside of California. But the book is full of delights not only for political junkies and policy wonks but also for the general reader. There’s a very funny chapter, for example, on dressing for political success, in which he critiques a few of his fellow politicos, such as Sen. Dianne Feinstein: “While she never looks sloppy, she sometimes looks hit or miss, as if she were caught between seasons.” (You can see here why Mr. Brown was so popular with the gay community: He was fabulous, and he can dish.)
Politicians worry about their legacies, and “Basic Brown” is its author’s attempt to preserve his own. But Willie Brown’s legacy consists not so much in his achievements – which were substantial – as it does of his legend. He succeeded in having it his own way, and becoming what he set out to be: “a real, pure force of politics.”
The first was Jesse Unruh, a corpulent good ol’ boy known as “Big Daddy,” who ruled the California State Assembly as speaker for eight years in the 1960s, and became a power broker in the national Democratic Party. Unruh grew up in a sharecropper family in the Panhandle town of Swenson and made his way west to Los Angeles as a teenager. A brilliant manipulator of people and money, Unruh is famous for two statements, one of them “Money is the mother’s milk of politics.” The other, quoted here in an expurgated version, is his advice to his fellow legislators: “If you can’t take the lobbyists’ money, eat their food, drink their booze, sleep with their women, and then vote against them, you don’t belong here.”
And then there’s the Machiavelli of Mineola, Willie Lewis Brown Jr., who approvingly quotes both of those statements by Unruh in “Basic Brown,” his engaging and sometimes outrageous memoir. Mr. Brown was born in segregation as well as poverty. His mother, the granddaughter of a slave, worked as a cook for a Dallas family, 80 miles away; she came home to Mineola only on weekends. In 1951, at the age of 17, Mr. Brown went to San Francisco to live with his uncle. Thirteen years later, he was elected to the California State Assembly, where Unruh became one of his acknowledged mentors. Most politicians, Mr. Brown says, “just want to do deals. I learned from Unruh that you could shape the game itself.” He followed in Unruh’s steps and became speaker in 1980, serving in that position until 1995. In 1996 he was elected mayor of San Francisco, and served until 2004.
Mr. Brown, one of the most prominent African-American politicians, tells us proudly, “I have never run for an assembly seat in a district that was more than 15 percent black.” But he is typically shrewd about the role of race in politics, observing that “as a black politician, you’re constantly having to spend energy to integrate yourself into the minds of white power brokers as a real, pure force of politics. You also have to spend as much time reintegrating yourself into the black community.” It’s a dynamic one can readily witness in the campaign of Barack Obama.
“Basic Brown” was compiled by San Francisco newspaper columnist P.J. Corkery from months of Saturday morning breakfast-table conversations. But Mr. Corkery is little more than an amanuensis: The voice here is unmistakably – for anyone who has witnessed him over the years – that of Willie Brown, right down to the references to himself as “Willie Brown,” which he does as frequently as Sen. Robert Dole used to invoke “Bob Dole.”
The epithet for Mr. Brown has always been “flamboyant.” Certainly, few American politicians have ever flaunted it the way he did: the $5,000 Italian suits from high-end clothier Wilkes Bashford, the Porsche that he used to make the 90-mile trip between San Francisco and Sacramento in about an hour (after making sure the Highway Patrol knew his license-plate number), the string of beautiful girlfriends. (He and his wife have been married for 50 years, but separated for 25.)
With visibility comes vulnerability, but “Basic Brown” is all about how his opponents – from the good-government organization Common Cause to the Republicans (and some Democrats) to the FBI – never laid a glove on him. It’s a lively saga with an underpinning of seriousness. For Mr. Brown, who now runs his own institute on politics and public service, essentially a consultancy for politicians, believes in making government work – even if you have to ignore, bend or break a few rules to do so.
Some of the book’s most entertaining anecdotes have to do with his mayoralty, trying to solve the myriad problems of an often fractious city. Those on the right who seem to think that liberals move in totalitarian lockstep apparently don’t know liberal San Francisco, where no cause lacks a constituency and at least two factions that oppose it. Mr. Brown tells how he succeeded in achieving a modicum of consensus, but also why he occasionally failed to solve problems that range from the treatment of the homeless to the demands of the 49ers for a new football stadium.
All politics is local, they say, and some of the political maneuvers in “Basic Brown” may not engage readers outside of California. But the book is full of delights not only for political junkies and policy wonks but also for the general reader. There’s a very funny chapter, for example, on dressing for political success, in which he critiques a few of his fellow politicos, such as Sen. Dianne Feinstein: “While she never looks sloppy, she sometimes looks hit or miss, as if she were caught between seasons.” (You can see here why Mr. Brown was so popular with the gay community: He was fabulous, and he can dish.)
Politicians worry about their legacies, and “Basic Brown” is its author’s attempt to preserve his own. But Willie Brown’s legacy consists not so much in his achievements – which were substantial – as it does of his legend. He succeeded in having it his own way, and becoming what he set out to be: “a real, pure force of politics.”
March 27, 2022
Not the most reliable narrator, but some good political insights from Willie, the 'People's Mayor.'
March 20, 2012
Most striking to me is the book didn't touch on the "unusual" relationship between he and his wife, Blanche (i.e dating other women openly while living apart for 25 years and no one says anything?) or much about his kids and family in Texas. Also (and of equal importance) not much is written about the job of actual legislation--I spent much of the book wondering what an assemblyman does besides wear nice suits, network and scheme! What about beneficial public policy? That didnt come until much later in the book; I just felt it should have, in theory, been more prominent. Also not spoken of at length is his early childhood in Mineola or his formal education. He talks about backing into Hastings College on accident (for all intents and purposes) ---"It was easier to get into law school then"--- but it never mentions graduating or his private law practice which apparently earned him the wealth to live the lifestyle he consistently reminds the reader he lives. In short, according to the narrative, he arrives in San Francisco poor but manages to parlay his wit and charm into holding public office which he does very successfully for almost 2 decades. There is a leap in the narrative that might have been inspirational to the reader; i.e. to see exactly how a person of humble means can become as successful as Mr Brown has been. I must admit his charm does seem to come through in the writing style; despite several arrogant statements about his manner of dress, lifestyle and self-regard throughout the book, it comes acros as harmless or confident. And I cant help but feel that Mr Brown loves his city and holds it in the same high regard as he does himself when he speaks of its beauty and potential. Last the book also doubles as a history book, covering the administrations of 4 California governors--from Reagan to Schwarzenegger (oddly, Gray Davis is only mentioned in passing once), 3 U.S Presidents (especially Clinton) the assassination of Mayor Moscone and Supervisor Harvey Milk, the events around the Loma Prieta earthquake and 9-11. Not very well-written but that can be excused considering its an autobiography written by a non-writer and in an unorthodox format (transcribed conversations on different subjects over lunches and compiled into a single volume) But as autobiographies go at least this one fits my criteria for a good bio--its written about someone who's led an interesting life and that made the book worthwhile and entertaining.
March 16, 2008
Simultaneously loved and reviled, Willie Brown cut a unique profile during his tenure as “Ayatollah”, or Speaker, of the California State Assembly.
When I was in college, grad students who had gone to Sacramento to study the State Legislature were frustrated by what they were hearing. They were getting some great thesis subjects from the Speaker’s Office on how power is really wielded in Sacramento but all of their sources refused to go on record for fear of the Speaker.
He thwarted three Republican Governors in a row and kept the Democrats in line which is no mean feat given how Balkanized the party can be. His ability to move legislation while being stalked by the FBI, the Republicans, and the press is legendary as well as the political machine he built during his tenure
Perhaps respected is the best way to describe his political career. Say what you will, no one has had a better mastery of the politics, the processes, and the members better than he.
Part storytelling (he opens up with the Gang of Five Rebellion), part memoir (you get a brief life story), part practical advice (he devotes and entire chapter to clothing) and part political primer (his advice, although skewed, is dead on), Basic Brown is the book from the man who claimed never to think about his own future, let alone past
It’s a breezy read, especially if you’re familiar with the episodes he discusses. Once you get over some of the more egotistical bits (it’s Willie; they’re going to be here), it is a good book to place on the shelf next to Tip O’Neil’s maxims on politics. The best thing is that you feel like you’re on a veranda somewhere, sipping cocktails as Willie Brown sits across from you spinning these tales. His voice is so strong that you are seduced into his world.
I was an intern and did a brief stint with Speaker’s Office when Willie was in charge. It was part of a world that is just a memory now. The idea that being a Field Rep was something you apprenticed for, that you sent your directives without nuance, and that, as much as you may have hated it at the time, in the end, it all worked out.
In these days of term limits, impoverished discourse, and a lack of faith, it’s good to know that there are guys like Willie doing what they do. You may disagree with it, but you cannot deny that he was a guy who did everything to its fullest.
When I was in college, grad students who had gone to Sacramento to study the State Legislature were frustrated by what they were hearing. They were getting some great thesis subjects from the Speaker’s Office on how power is really wielded in Sacramento but all of their sources refused to go on record for fear of the Speaker.
He thwarted three Republican Governors in a row and kept the Democrats in line which is no mean feat given how Balkanized the party can be. His ability to move legislation while being stalked by the FBI, the Republicans, and the press is legendary as well as the political machine he built during his tenure
Perhaps respected is the best way to describe his political career. Say what you will, no one has had a better mastery of the politics, the processes, and the members better than he.
Part storytelling (he opens up with the Gang of Five Rebellion), part memoir (you get a brief life story), part practical advice (he devotes and entire chapter to clothing) and part political primer (his advice, although skewed, is dead on), Basic Brown is the book from the man who claimed never to think about his own future, let alone past
It’s a breezy read, especially if you’re familiar with the episodes he discusses. Once you get over some of the more egotistical bits (it’s Willie; they’re going to be here), it is a good book to place on the shelf next to Tip O’Neil’s maxims on politics. The best thing is that you feel like you’re on a veranda somewhere, sipping cocktails as Willie Brown sits across from you spinning these tales. His voice is so strong that you are seduced into his world.
I was an intern and did a brief stint with Speaker’s Office when Willie was in charge. It was part of a world that is just a memory now. The idea that being a Field Rep was something you apprenticed for, that you sent your directives without nuance, and that, as much as you may have hated it at the time, in the end, it all worked out.
In these days of term limits, impoverished discourse, and a lack of faith, it’s good to know that there are guys like Willie doing what they do. You may disagree with it, but you cannot deny that he was a guy who did everything to its fullest.
April 1, 2011
I love Willie Brown, he's been a political & local fixture my entire life. I love that he dresses well, that he's at home wherever he's at, that while he's a Democrat dyed in the wool, he doesn't dismiss Republicans as idiots out of hand. (I actually love that on both sides, I personally feel that the "American People" a phrase that I'm coming to loathe with a purple passion, have been set up to duke it out with each other in some sort of rabid football league with only two factions while the top rakes off the rest of the cash and land. (It's not helping that I'm currently reading Griftopia by Matt Taibbi).
But back to Willie Brown. Now in this book, he is the hero of the story, and as he unfolds some of the chicanery he's dealt with over the years, I'm in complete agreement. From the horrifying murders of George Moscone & Harvey Milk to the bumbling FBI sting to bring charges of corruption to the House while he was Speaker, Willie Brown is always informative, always interesting, and of course, impeccably dressed.
I should leave it there but have to add that the book reads the way the perfect dinner companion should behave. Witty, intelligent, breezy and, while possibly leaving you with the bill, making it more than worth your while.
But back to Willie Brown. Now in this book, he is the hero of the story, and as he unfolds some of the chicanery he's dealt with over the years, I'm in complete agreement. From the horrifying murders of George Moscone & Harvey Milk to the bumbling FBI sting to bring charges of corruption to the House while he was Speaker, Willie Brown is always informative, always interesting, and of course, impeccably dressed.
I should leave it there but have to add that the book reads the way the perfect dinner companion should behave. Witty, intelligent, breezy and, while possibly leaving you with the bill, making it more than worth your while.
September 9, 2008
(3.5 stars) Legendary California politician Willie Brown writes a book about his two favorite subjects: politics and himself. A fast and engaging read, it's organized as short, self-standing chapters. The book alternates between episodic memoir and political primer. Some of the more entertaining chapters recount brazen power plays. Others provide an inside view of the political machinery at the state and local level. Brown also details how he came up with creative solutions to specific problems, sometimes exploiting loopholes in the process. He even throws in a chapter advising aspiring politicians on how to assemble a wardrobe, not surprising since the author is obsessed with fine haberdashery. In the end, the book was like a meal at some San Francisco restaurants: beautifully presented and tasty, but the portions are small and you leave feeling a bit hungry. Still, you're glad you had the experience.
August 23, 2013
All politicians are bought? Not if you know how to take their money and make no guarantees. My feeling is the experience of a Black man in a white culture has given Mr. Brown a good vantage point to see how not to get enslaved.
A lot of white politicians need to be reading this book right now. Wide eyed optimism from the 50s has turned into defeatism and a race for cash. Willie's got the prescription for fixin' - keep your soul while you're at it.
A lot of white politicians need to be reading this book right now. Wide eyed optimism from the 50s has turned into defeatism and a race for cash. Willie's got the prescription for fixin' - keep your soul while you're at it.
August 7, 2009
Who would not give "Slick Willie" five stars for his remarkable life and career as one of California's most effective public servants, a consummate politician using all the tools that he had at his disposal at the time? A very entertaining and eye-opening read.
August 4, 2008
Somewhat entertaining. Why do i get the feeling that it's all a pack of lies?
March 18, 2009
Some very good stories about Willie Brown's political life. Entertaining.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews