"He didn't really have the big picture, he claimed, but just tried to put it all together the best he could..." (p. 151)
From the waiting line at the used bookstore, this little cutie caught my eye. She's short, always an attractive feature in a book. The dust jacket has bold colors and attractive font. The paper is thick, substantial. Writing is sectioned off into tidy little bits, perfect for my perpetually distracted and unfocused Quarantine brain.
I really enjoyed Ms. Lemann's writing. She crafts a sentence that would make my favorite English teacher give her happy little check marks. I got a great feel for New Orleans, a nice little refresher of the aura. Centered around a trial of a governor, I honestly had no idea which governor until late in the book. Ms. Lemann uses fantastic words seldom seen in current prose but repeats the clever turn at least twice very quickly. I'll blame my Quarantine brain but this made me feel like I was re-reading passages again and again. Two times this was with the word sangfroid, honestly a word not used nearly enough these days. If this book were a movie, the random fade ins and outs would cause a very low critic score but the nutty characters and clear scenes would cause a high-ish audience score.
Rereading "The Ritz of the Bayou" thirty years after its publication is more than an exercise in nostalgia. It's a reminder of a time when Southern politicians were charismatic, powerful and Democratic, as exemplified in four time Louisiana governor Edwin Edwards. Edwards' first two racketeering trials were covered by novelist Nancy Lemann, a former New Orleanian transplanted to the Northeast. As a novelist, she reduces the two trials to vignettes and impressions rather than an extended detailing of the exhaustive trials, a smart move. Though such an approach does have the feel of an extended magazine piece at times. She does get to the heart of Edwards' appeal and why Louisiana voters were dazzled, indeed blinded by him. As such, "The Ritz" still stands as a cautionary tale. Recommended.
…In the South, you tend your own garden, in your corner of the world. You have to cultivate your own garden, and this is why, as it is well known, Southerners are eccentric…
Where has this book been? How can it have been written in 1986 and I've never heard of or found it? There's no way you can write about a certain state's certain governor's criminal trials and it come out bad- but she aced it. It helps that it's a non-fiction account, but also it could be that she's a native of New Orleans, and it could be that she's also the daughter of a lawyer. But do it -she did. It is fabulous from the settings, to the cast of (real & familiar) characters down to the searsucker suits that LA lawyers and legislators are oddly (still) fond of. The air is alternately hot and sultry or blowing in the wake of the latest hurricane, the bars and joints and dives are familiar and real and the people, well they're our people. And the governor, close to 40 years after the book was written, we all know the results of the final trial, the goings on, the after that and the finale, if indeed his story will ever end.
This rerelease of a 1986 book by Nancy Lemann is a gem. Lemann received an assignment to travel to NoLa, a city she lived in previously, to cover the corruption trial of the Governor of Louisiana and his brother and business associates. This book, the result of that assignment, chronicles the vibe of the trial and of life in New Orleans and Louisiana more broadly from her perspective as someone who has since moved to the North and is hyper aware of the differences between the two. While it never ran in the magazine, and enjoyed a short shelf life, it has since gained a somewhat cult following and is now being republished, 40 years later. It has gonzo elements, in that Lemann interacts with her subjects, and is presented in a series of vignettes, ranging from a sentence to a couple pages, so that the reader jumps from scene to scene often without much preamble or explanation. The characters are referred to by title and description (the voluptuous assistant prosecutor, the excitable witness, etc), which adds to the unusual quality of the book. In this, it reminds me of a more modern type of book I've read a few times: Jenny Offill's Dept. of Speculation, for one, or Maggie Nelson's The Argonauts. There are some great lines in the book, as you might imagine, and I can see why it may not have sold very well in 1986--ahead of its time?--but luckily for us, it's in print again.
It's trying to be Didion but lacks the depth. Too repetitive but there were snippets that made me fall in love with New Orleans all over again.
I stopped at Benny's Bar, where one sees all types represented. An aged black lady all dressed up as though for church, some black guy dancing his heart out, some fifty-year-old society man with a suit and tie. It is generally a type of purgatory in there. The bar is a clapboard shack with an old-fashioned metal overhang outside the door embracing the corner of the street. The décor is the height of squalor, in the heart of the downtrodden South. It is an unprepossessing spot to say the least, with no cover charge. I can hardly describe the obscurity of the place; yet there you will hear the voices of angels, and hardly find room to stand, for the people who dance and crowd the tables. In an obscure and squalid corner of New Orleans, which remains unknown.
A highly impressionistic, languid (to the point of torpid) account of a trial of the Governor of Louisiana and several of his family members/cronies. The corruption largely involved pay-to-play schemes with a corporation of hospital builders and managers, and, as the attorneys for the defendants (successfully) argued, represented business as usual for the State of Louisiana. What remains a mystery is how Tina Brown, as editor of Vanity Fair, determined that it was a good choice to assign Nancy Lemann to cover the trial.
I enjoyed this so much. She writes in the vein of Walker Percy. Also, as I read, I could hear the whisper of He-who-shall-not-be-named. I’ve always thought he was more like George C. Wallace, and there is that, but Edwin Edwards moreso. The corruption! The showmanship! The family and crony loyalty! The USA is now Louisiana writ large.
This author is fantastic at providing the atmosphere of this trial that happened in the 80's in New Orleans. There is poetry in her vignettes and I did like that she wrote in that style. I probably could toss another star on my review because I was drawn to her writing, but having just finished a Steinbeck novel, I can't help but rank.
Oh what fun! I laughed out loud at Nancy Lemann’s keen observations 40 years ago at the trial of Edwin Edwards. Her descriptions of New Orleans, the lawyers, the reporters, the whole VIBE of this year long debacle of two trials was funny and completely on point. Loved this book.
I started this expecting to get more about The Last Hayride. Instead it is rambling, disconnected, and not very compelling. The intro says it has been unjustly neglected. Not for me.