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Going Somewhere
In this forgotten comedy novel from 1933, Max Ewing delves into Upper Bohemia as it existed in London, Paris and New York. With a sparkly touch he also explores gay and interracial sub-cultures. Carl Van Vechten described it as a charming "crazy quilt."
- GenresFiction
268 pages, Paperback
Published February 5, 2008
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
June 25, 2022
Love? What does it take to make a successful modern marriage? Certainly not "love," says the young and dangerously urbane Max Ewing (1903-1934). Love is quite irrelevant. There must be, instead, a bond between two people -- that is stronger than love or money. Opera diva Armada Menace has a bond with editor-publisher Wilburton Renegade. He saw her toss child radio star Baby Basch into the Atlantic on a crossing when Armada was in a vex. Their marriage is soon consummated amid social flurry.
Clarissa Goode, another singer with a nervous twitching of one nostril ("I got it from sniffing for dignity"), expounds, "Most people are fragments. It takes half a dozen to make one. That's why monogamy can't work: once married you find you've got only a part of a person. No one person is enough. And no one sex is either."
In this crack-brained "lost" classic from 1933, which reads today with astonishing modernity, author Ewing delightedly turns every convention upside down with a cheeky gay flavor. He is doubly ironic about art & acting, writing, race, death & murder, & sex, although there's little time for that in this satiric fable. His singular work, which reads more strongly a 2d time, is formless and has about 12 "players" -- far too many -- several of whom are unfinished; some are there for wicked cameos only, like Mr. America, always posing, and urging the beautiful English lad, Napier Knightsbridge, to feel his bulging muscles, hither and not-so-yon. But Mr. America dies with party-goers drinking bad booze at a Prohibition party in which the tardy hostess, a sculptor named Lenore Lanslide, returns home to a roomful of corpses. (She'd been delayed with a Chinese chum, Gin Sin Fun, who found himself in a Tong War. Gin Sin Fun shot dead the bad Ho Hum and Lenore, in a wild moment, plugged Fo Fum). What's next for Lenore, who sports dyed grass-green hair? There's no hell of loneliness for her ! She calls her bootlegger and orders another crate of liquor, demanding, "Hurry up with the fire water." The nonstop mischief, influenced by Carl Van Vechten who mentored Ewing, informs the great Preston Sturges scripts of the 1940s.
A composer, musician, artist, photographer and writer, Max Ewing wrote the music for three intimate revues -- "The Grand Street Follies" -- of 1927, 28, 29. This was the era of smart, small, "civilized" stage revues like "The Band Wagon," 1932, which starred Fred & Adele Astaire and Tilly Losch (I have the music and full script), and "Three's A Crowd," 1930, "of dry and peckish wit" (NYT), which offered Clifton Webb, Libby Holman, Fred Allen. I suddenly realized what Max Ewing has given us is less a novel than a blissful series of revue sketches. Nothing particularly connects; it doesn't have to. Princesse de Villefranche, visiting the US and writing, she hopes, her memoirs, drives off to Detroit with a hot, new writer, Jasper Almont, who tells her she can't stay in NYC, she must see Detroit...and is soon believed kidnapped by gangsters. But, no. She turns up at a Television Exposition, which connects her to the world. And that's where we are today. This hilarious "sketch" ends the revue.
There's also a "blackout" sequence with Pamela, Mrs. Woodley-Knightsbridge, the daft movie acting coach, mother of Naps. When he tells her that he's going to marry brother-sister twins in Trans-Urania, she swoops, "It's divine there." Her pet parrot screeches, "Don't be so silly." Ewing's revue has a contemporary moral: "We're living in an off era. We're just God's gout."
==
His special comedy is dedicated to Muriel Draper, considered the most vivid and memorable salonista of the the 20s and 30s. Carl Van Vechten warned that, in 1933, books by first-time authors weren't selling -- the Great Depression. This got good reviews, but had poor sales. Stunned by personal and financial anxieties, Max Ewing killed himself a year later. He was 31. A cousin, Wallace Ewing, has published a bio, "Genius Denied." Here's a must-read.
Clarissa Goode, another singer with a nervous twitching of one nostril ("I got it from sniffing for dignity"), expounds, "Most people are fragments. It takes half a dozen to make one. That's why monogamy can't work: once married you find you've got only a part of a person. No one person is enough. And no one sex is either."
In this crack-brained "lost" classic from 1933, which reads today with astonishing modernity, author Ewing delightedly turns every convention upside down with a cheeky gay flavor. He is doubly ironic about art & acting, writing, race, death & murder, & sex, although there's little time for that in this satiric fable. His singular work, which reads more strongly a 2d time, is formless and has about 12 "players" -- far too many -- several of whom are unfinished; some are there for wicked cameos only, like Mr. America, always posing, and urging the beautiful English lad, Napier Knightsbridge, to feel his bulging muscles, hither and not-so-yon. But Mr. America dies with party-goers drinking bad booze at a Prohibition party in which the tardy hostess, a sculptor named Lenore Lanslide, returns home to a roomful of corpses. (She'd been delayed with a Chinese chum, Gin Sin Fun, who found himself in a Tong War. Gin Sin Fun shot dead the bad Ho Hum and Lenore, in a wild moment, plugged Fo Fum). What's next for Lenore, who sports dyed grass-green hair? There's no hell of loneliness for her ! She calls her bootlegger and orders another crate of liquor, demanding, "Hurry up with the fire water." The nonstop mischief, influenced by Carl Van Vechten who mentored Ewing, informs the great Preston Sturges scripts of the 1940s.
A composer, musician, artist, photographer and writer, Max Ewing wrote the music for three intimate revues -- "The Grand Street Follies" -- of 1927, 28, 29. This was the era of smart, small, "civilized" stage revues like "The Band Wagon," 1932, which starred Fred & Adele Astaire and Tilly Losch (I have the music and full script), and "Three's A Crowd," 1930, "of dry and peckish wit" (NYT), which offered Clifton Webb, Libby Holman, Fred Allen. I suddenly realized what Max Ewing has given us is less a novel than a blissful series of revue sketches. Nothing particularly connects; it doesn't have to. Princesse de Villefranche, visiting the US and writing, she hopes, her memoirs, drives off to Detroit with a hot, new writer, Jasper Almont, who tells her she can't stay in NYC, she must see Detroit...and is soon believed kidnapped by gangsters. But, no. She turns up at a Television Exposition, which connects her to the world. And that's where we are today. This hilarious "sketch" ends the revue.
There's also a "blackout" sequence with Pamela, Mrs. Woodley-Knightsbridge, the daft movie acting coach, mother of Naps. When he tells her that he's going to marry brother-sister twins in Trans-Urania, she swoops, "It's divine there." Her pet parrot screeches, "Don't be so silly." Ewing's revue has a contemporary moral: "We're living in an off era. We're just God's gout."
==
His special comedy is dedicated to Muriel Draper, considered the most vivid and memorable salonista of the the 20s and 30s. Carl Van Vechten warned that, in 1933, books by first-time authors weren't selling -- the Great Depression. This got good reviews, but had poor sales. Stunned by personal and financial anxieties, Max Ewing killed himself a year later. He was 31. A cousin, Wallace Ewing, has published a bio, "Genius Denied." Here's a must-read.
January 31, 2017
I wrote a long analysis of the delightful, sadly forgotten Going Somewhere on my blog Queer Modernisms, which can be found here.
An excerpt: "Max Ewing’s effervescent Going Somewhere, as fizzy as the champagne that had been newly (re)legalized the year of its publication, is primarily remembered today as one of a handful of novels published in the publication industry’s efforts to capitalize on the “Pansy Craze” of the late 1920’s and early 1930’s. The placement of Ewing’s text within this category can considered something of a historical coincidence, however, as the text deals directly with queer subject matter only in several brief, ultimately fleeting passages, something in marked contrast to other “Pansy Craze” novels, almost all which uniformly foreground queer characters and/or experiences.
Rather, in style, content, and tone, the novel is much more in line with the type of breezy high-society romps that Carl Van Vechten specialized in throughout the 1920’s. Van Vechten’s novels are themselves endlessly queer affairs, of course, though more in regards to sensibility and milieu than in regards to any type of sustained reference or focus on queer individuals or behaviors. Going Somewhere employs a similar approach, which is no surprise since Van Vechten was Ewing’s mentor and close friend."
An excerpt: "Max Ewing’s effervescent Going Somewhere, as fizzy as the champagne that had been newly (re)legalized the year of its publication, is primarily remembered today as one of a handful of novels published in the publication industry’s efforts to capitalize on the “Pansy Craze” of the late 1920’s and early 1930’s. The placement of Ewing’s text within this category can considered something of a historical coincidence, however, as the text deals directly with queer subject matter only in several brief, ultimately fleeting passages, something in marked contrast to other “Pansy Craze” novels, almost all which uniformly foreground queer characters and/or experiences.
Rather, in style, content, and tone, the novel is much more in line with the type of breezy high-society romps that Carl Van Vechten specialized in throughout the 1920’s. Van Vechten’s novels are themselves endlessly queer affairs, of course, though more in regards to sensibility and milieu than in regards to any type of sustained reference or focus on queer individuals or behaviors. Going Somewhere employs a similar approach, which is no surprise since Van Vechten was Ewing’s mentor and close friend."
March 14, 2023
So much fun! Haven't ever really read something like this before. Endless accounts of parties, bar hopping, drinking and the opera in 1933 New York City. Oh, and I almost forgot the gang wars!
Very colorful and pleasantly irreverent. Also surprisingly progressive in areas of race, gender and sexuality. Not all characters were likable, but almost all were entertaining.
The last 50 or so pages were completely unexpected but worked so well and I loved the ending.
Very colorful and pleasantly irreverent. Also surprisingly progressive in areas of race, gender and sexuality. Not all characters were likable, but almost all were entertaining.
The last 50 or so pages were completely unexpected but worked so well and I loved the ending.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews