Fade Out

by Douglas Woolf

First published in 1959, Fade Out is a stunning, surreal criticism of American life in the materialistic, youth-and money-crazed 1950s. Its hero is Dick Twombley, a 74-year old retired bank clerk who struggles to retain what remains of his dignity in a world that regards old age as an embarrassment. When he is mistakenly accused of kidnapping two little girls he has befriended, Dick’s daughter packs him off to a suburban New York City retirement home. He soon makes his escape with the help of a fellow inmate, and together the two “fugitives from injustice” embark on a cross-country odyssey that lands them in the abandoned hotel of an Arizona ghost town.

Genres: Fiction

217 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1959

Reviews

[Jack Tripper · Rating 3 out of 5]

(Here's the cover of my 1968 Weidenfeld & Nicolson hardcover 273 pages, which isn't listed here.)

A well-written, mildly humorous satire with one near-fatal flaw (for me anyway). I'll go into more detail eventually, but here's a taste: "Ah, Ed..." "No I mean it, Dick." "The heck with Spencer, Ed." "I have to live with Spencer, Dick." "But Ed..."

This sort of thing. Can't stand it. Who talks like that, constantly referring to the other person by name during a conversation? Nothing will drag me out of a story more quickly. But once I was able to somehow block all that out, it was quite the enjoyable road-trip/odyssey novel with old folks.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was initially dismayed to discover that the protagonist of Fade Out – a retired bank clerk – is called Mr Twombly. Had I picked up a children’s story book by mistake? But once past this hurdle, I gradually warmed to the petty horrors of Mr Twombly’s life trapped in the clutches of his 1950’s American suburban family.

I have a peculiar fascination with 1950s American suburbia. I’m not sure why. The words ‘edgy ‘ and ‘surreal’ come to mind – something to do with reading imported copies of The Saturday Evening Post as a child, perhaps. It never did seem a real place. Douglas Woolf, writing in 1959, may possibly have felt the same way. In his town, the population think it normal to leave their homes and drive beyond the city limits for an atomic bomb evacuation drill – dubbed ‘fade out’ – during which Mr Twombly and his ex-boxer pal make their escape. More surreality? A quick check reveals that such drills actually did take place. And this is partly what I liked about the novel. At any given point, I was never quite sure whether I was reading something almost real, satirically unreal, or entirely surreal. Fade Out has a dream-like quality - increasingly so as Mr Twombly lights out for the sunny ghost-towns of Arizona. Ronald Sukenick called the book "a geriatric Huckleberry Finn..."

Douglas Woolf was an itinerant too - and a writer with a distinctive voice.