Harry Allen Wolfgang Smith was an American journalist and humorist whose books were popular in the 1940s and 1950s, selling millions of copies. Smith was born in McLeansboro, Illinois, where he lived until the age of six. His family moved to Decatur in 1913 and then to Defiance, Ohio, finally arriving in Huntington, Indiana. It was at this point Smith dropped out of high school and began working odd jobs, eventually finding work as a journalist. He began in 1922 at the Huntington Press, relocating to Jeffersonville, Indiana, and Louisville, Kentucky. In Florida, editing the Sebring American in 1925, he met society editor Nelle Mae Simpson, and they married in 1927. The couple lived in Oklahoma, where Smith worked at the Tulsa Tribune, followed by a position at the Denver Post. In 1929, he became a United Press rewrite man, also handling feature stories and celebrity interviews. He continued as a feature writer with the New York World-Telegram from 1934 to 1939.
He found fame when his humor book Low Man on a Totem Pole (1941) became a bestseller during WWII, popular not only on the homefront but also read on troop trains and at military camps. Featuring an introduction by his friend Fred Allen, it eventually sold over a million copies. Damon Runyon called it, "Rich funny stuff, loaded with laughs." As noted by Eric Partridge in A Dictionary of Catch Phrases, the book's title became a catchphrase for the least successful individual in a group. With his newfound financial freedom, he left the daily newspaper grind for life as a freelance author, scripting for radio while also writing (for six months) The Totem Pole, a daily column for United Features Syndicate, making personal appearances and working on his next book, Life in a Putty Knife Factory (1943), which became another bestseller. He spent eight months in Hollywood as a screenwriter for Paramount Pictures, and wrote about the experience in Lost in the Horse Latitudes (1944). His first three books were widely circulated around the world in Armed Services Editions. The popularity of these titles kept Smith on the New York Herald Tribune's Best Seller List for 100 weeks and prompted a collection of all three in 3 Smiths in the Wind (1946). By the end of World War II, Smith's fame as a humorist was such that he edited Desert Island Decameron (1945), a collection of essays and stories by such leading humorists as Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley and James Thurber. Histories of the Manhattan Project mention Desert Island Decameron because it's the book Donald Hornig was reading when he was sitting in the Trinity Test tower babysitting the atomic bomb on July 15, 1945, the stormy night prior to the first nuclear explosion. His novel, Rhubarb (1946), about a cat that inherits a professional baseball team, led to two sequels and a 1951 film adaptation. Larks in the Popcorn (1948, reprinted in 1974) and Let The Crabgrass Grow (1960) described "rural" life in Westchester County, New York. People Named Smith (1950) offers anecdotes and histories of people named Smith, such as Presidential candidate Al Smith, religious leader Joseph Smith and a man named 5/8 Smith. He collaborated with Ira L. Smith on the baseball anecdotes in Low and Inside (1949) and Three Men on Third (1951). The Compleat Practical Joker (1953, reprinted in 1980) detailed the practical jokes pulled by his friends Hugh Troy, publicist Jim Moran and other pranksters, such as the artist Waldo Peirce. His futuristic fantasy novel, The Age of the Tail (1955), describes a time when people are born with tails. One of his last books was Rude Jokes (1970). Smith also wrote hundreds of magazine articles for Esquire, Holiday, McCall's, Playboy, Reader's Digest, The Saturday Evening Post, The Saturday Review of Literature, True, Venture, Golf and other publications. Smith made a number of appearances on radio and television. Fred Allen was one of his friends, and he was a guest on The Fred Allen Show on December 7, 1947
H. Allen Smith started life as a newspaper writer, and branched out to being a humorist in the tradition of Mark Twain--though he continued to see himself as a journalist, his humor rooted in telling the stories of those he interviewed.
This book isn't quite a paste-up job, but it does re-work a lot of pieces he wrote earlier in order to (very loosely) narrate a memoir. The beginning bits are best, when Smith writes affectionately of his befuddled father--the family had nine children--and disparagingly of the Rube-ville, Indiana and Illinois, where he grew up--there's more than a little Mencken here, with his Sahara of the Boze Arts. The early parts of Smiths career have their moments, too.
But the middle and end of the book bog down. Smith is undisciplined structurally--by design--so there are tangents within the tangents, much of it more like a monologue or stand-up routine. And there's only so much I care about this job or that one, since there is no narrative drive. These are all just excuses for his stories.
By this point in the book, his humor has, in my opinion, exhausted itself; he doesn't like Victorian morality. He enjoys drinking and cussing. Sex is good, and naked women good, but too much shouldn't be shown. Superstitions are ridiculous. There is plenty of sexism, too, befitting the era--the book was published in 1962, though the earlier stories date back through the prior two decades--but even the sexism is a bit defensive: he's a brick-thrower who is becoming comfortable and conservative.
At 300-some-odd pages, the book ends up feeling twice as long. And in the end I was reminded of something from one of Beverly Cleary's Ramona books. Trying to impart a philosophy of humor to his daughter, he told her: one time is funny, twice is ok, three times is annoying.
Humorist and newspaperman H.Allen Smith wrote this autobiography in 1962. I think I missed a lot of the humor by being unfamiliar with the people and situations mentioned in the stories - I was born in 1962, so this definitely qualifies as "before my time"! That being so, it took me awhile to get going in the book, and once I did, I wanted to finish. Maybe I need to tackle one of his humor books to get a feel for the man.