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Henry Wiggen #2
Bang the Drum Slowly
Bang the Drum Slowly is the second in a series of four novels written by Mark Harris that chronicles the career of baseball player Henry W. Wiggen. This series is among the finest novels ever written to use baseball as a theme. Published in 1956, the book is a simple, moving testament to the immutable power of friendship. The title page in the novel reads; "by Henry W. Wiggen / Certain of His Enthusiasms Restrained by Mark Harris", the author's personal touch that tells us (the reader) that we are about to enter a genial, conversational first-person story.Wiggen is a gifted pitcher in the major leagues, playing for a team that includes a mediocre catcher named Bruce Pearson--a slow-talking Georgia boy who tries the patience of the team. Pearson has a secret; he has been diagnosed with Hodgkins' disease which threatens not only his life but also the baseball career that he so desperately wants. When Wiggen learns of Pearson's illness, their casual acquaintanceship deepens into a profound friendship. Wiggen fights heroically to keep Pearson on the team, saving his friend from being sent down to the minors, and he also rallies other teammates to help his friend. The miracle is that Pearson is transformed into a better ballplayer... but the miracle is brief for the man's time has already run out.In lesser hands, this story could be cloying or overly sentimental, but Harris writes with a gentle, unassuming dignity. Wiggen is an engaging character and his observations are lucid and refreshing. It may be that what makes Bang the Drum Slowly a great novel is that it is not entirely a sports novel but also a warm human comedy set in the familiar, magical world of American baseball.Bang the Drum Slowly is #14 on the Sports Illustrated Greatest 100 Sports books.ABOUT THE AUTHORMark Harris (1922) wrote novels for more than fifty years. He is best known for four novels about the life of major-league baseball player Henry W. Wiggen, including The Southpaw (1953) and Bang the Drum Slowly(1956) He also wrote the screenplay for the film version of Bang the Drum Slowly.In 1946, Harris made a splash with his first novel, Trumpet to the World, a book about a young black soldier who married a white woman. Many of Harris's other novels have dealt with academic life, and yet more of his novels are highly informed by autobiographical experience. Harris has also published a collection of his articles entitled Short Work of It, as well as the play Friedman and Son and a unique biography of Saul Bellow.SERIES DESCRIPTIONSFrom classic book to classic film, RosettaBooks has gathered some of most memorable books into film available. The selection is broad ranging and far reaching, with books from classic genre to cult classic to science fiction and horror and a blend of the two creating whole new genres like Richard Matheson's The Shrinking Man. Classic works from Vonnegut, one of the greatest writers of the twentieth century, meet with E.M. Forrester's A Passage to India. Whether the work is centered in the here and now, in the past, or in some distant and almost unimaginable future, each work is lasting and memorable and award-winning.
243 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1956
31 people are currently reading
1300 people want to read
About the author
Mark Harris
233 books25 followersHarris was born Mark Harris Finkelstein in Mount Vernon, New York, to Carlyle and Ruth (Klausner) Finkelstein. At the age of 11, he began keeping a diary, which he would maintain for every day of his life thereafter.
After graduating in 1940 from Mount Vernon High School, he dropped his surname because "it was a difficult time for kids with Jewish names to get jobs." He subsequently went to work for Paul Winkler's Press Alliance news agency in New York City as a messenger and mimeograph operator.
He was drafted into the United States Army in January 1943. His growing opposition to war and his anger at the prevalence of racial discrimination in the Army led him to go AWOL from Camp Wheeler, Georgia, in February 1944. He was soon arrested and then hospitalized for psychoneurosis. He was honorably discharged in April 1944. His wartime experience formed the basis for two of his novels, Trumpet to the World (1946) and Something About a Soldier (1957).
Harris joined The Daily Item of Port Chester, New York, as a reporter in May 1944. A year later he accepted a position with PM in New York City but was fired after two months. In July 1945 he was hired by the International News Service and moved to St. Louis. While there, he met coworker Josephine Horen, whom he would marry in March 1946. After resigning in July 1946, he spent the next year and a half in a succession of short-lived journalism jobs in Albuquerque, New Mexico (Albuquerque Journal), Chicago (Negro Digest and Ebony), and New York (Park Row News Service).
In February 1948, Harris abandoned journalism to enroll in the University of Denver, from which he received a Master's degree in English in 1951 as well as obtaining a PhD in American Studies from the University of Minnesota in 1956.
In September 1956, he was hired by the English department of San Francisco State College, where he taught until 1967. He went on to teach at several other universities, including Purdue, California Institute of the Arts, the University of Southern California, and the University of Pittsburgh. In September 1980, he joined the faculty of Arizona State, where he was a professor of English and taught in the creative writing program until his retirement in 2001.
His first novel, Trumpet to the World, is the story of a young black soldier married to a white woman who is put on trial for striking back at a white officer, was published in 1946, and he continued to produce novels and contribute to periodicals through the years. In 1960, while in his first college teaching position, Harris promoted his then-most-recent book in a TV appearance as guest contestant in "You Bet Your Life", a game played on The Groucho Show.
In January 1962, Something About a Soldier, a stage version of Harris's novel, played briefly on Broadway. Written by Ernest Kinoy and produced by the Theatre Guild, it featured Sal Mineo in the lead role. Later, the novel Bang the Drum Slowly was adapted into a stage play at the Next Theatre in Evanston, Illinois.
Harris died of complications of Alzheimer's disease at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital at age 84. He was survived by his wife, Josephine Horen; his sister, Martha; two sons, one daughter, and three grandchildren.
Harris was best known for a quartet of novels about baseball players: The Southpaw (1953), Bang the Drum Slowly (1956), A Ticket for a Seamstitch (1957), and It Looked Like For Ever (1979). Written in the vernacular, the books are the account of Henry "Author" Wiggen, a pitcher for the fictional New York Mammoths. In 1956, Bang the Drum Slowly was adapted for an installment of the dramatic television anthology series The United States Steel Hour; starring Paul Newman as Wiggen and Albert Salmi as doomed catcher Bruce Pearson. The novel also became a major motion picture in 1973, with a screenplay written by Harris, directed by John D. Hancock and featuring Michael Moriarty as Wiggen and Robert De Niro as Pearson.
After graduating in 1940 from Mount Vernon High School, he dropped his surname because "it was a difficult time for kids with Jewish names to get jobs." He subsequently went to work for Paul Winkler's Press Alliance news agency in New York City as a messenger and mimeograph operator.
He was drafted into the United States Army in January 1943. His growing opposition to war and his anger at the prevalence of racial discrimination in the Army led him to go AWOL from Camp Wheeler, Georgia, in February 1944. He was soon arrested and then hospitalized for psychoneurosis. He was honorably discharged in April 1944. His wartime experience formed the basis for two of his novels, Trumpet to the World (1946) and Something About a Soldier (1957).
Harris joined The Daily Item of Port Chester, New York, as a reporter in May 1944. A year later he accepted a position with PM in New York City but was fired after two months. In July 1945 he was hired by the International News Service and moved to St. Louis. While there, he met coworker Josephine Horen, whom he would marry in March 1946. After resigning in July 1946, he spent the next year and a half in a succession of short-lived journalism jobs in Albuquerque, New Mexico (Albuquerque Journal), Chicago (Negro Digest and Ebony), and New York (Park Row News Service).
In February 1948, Harris abandoned journalism to enroll in the University of Denver, from which he received a Master's degree in English in 1951 as well as obtaining a PhD in American Studies from the University of Minnesota in 1956.
In September 1956, he was hired by the English department of San Francisco State College, where he taught until 1967. He went on to teach at several other universities, including Purdue, California Institute of the Arts, the University of Southern California, and the University of Pittsburgh. In September 1980, he joined the faculty of Arizona State, where he was a professor of English and taught in the creative writing program until his retirement in 2001.
His first novel, Trumpet to the World, is the story of a young black soldier married to a white woman who is put on trial for striking back at a white officer, was published in 1946, and he continued to produce novels and contribute to periodicals through the years. In 1960, while in his first college teaching position, Harris promoted his then-most-recent book in a TV appearance as guest contestant in "You Bet Your Life", a game played on The Groucho Show.
In January 1962, Something About a Soldier, a stage version of Harris's novel, played briefly on Broadway. Written by Ernest Kinoy and produced by the Theatre Guild, it featured Sal Mineo in the lead role. Later, the novel Bang the Drum Slowly was adapted into a stage play at the Next Theatre in Evanston, Illinois.
Harris died of complications of Alzheimer's disease at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital at age 84. He was survived by his wife, Josephine Horen; his sister, Martha; two sons, one daughter, and three grandchildren.
Harris was best known for a quartet of novels about baseball players: The Southpaw (1953), Bang the Drum Slowly (1956), A Ticket for a Seamstitch (1957), and It Looked Like For Ever (1979). Written in the vernacular, the books are the account of Henry "Author" Wiggen, a pitcher for the fictional New York Mammoths. In 1956, Bang the Drum Slowly was adapted for an installment of the dramatic television anthology series The United States Steel Hour; starring Paul Newman as Wiggen and Albert Salmi as doomed catcher Bruce Pearson. The novel also became a major motion picture in 1973, with a screenplay written by Harris, directed by John D. Hancock and featuring Michael Moriarty as Wiggen and Robert De Niro as Pearson.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 144 reviews
May 21, 2025
An engaging story about a fictional major league baseball team with life at the heart of it.
March 26, 2020
OK, OK ... I've been thinking about reading this book for ... decades. And every time I've picked it up, I realized I needed to read The Southpaw first, and I wasn't that enthusiastic about starting a serial about baseball. So I finally got around to the The Southpaw, and I thought it was good, better than, OK, but not transcendent, so I didn't rush to pick this up... but, now,
I am so glad I read this
....
OK, I cried, pretty much nonstop, through the last thirteen pages....
I realize sports, particularly baseball, books aren't for everyone, and fictional sports, particularly historical (period) fiction about sports, falls into a rather unique niche. And, ultimately, I don't think this book (or series) is as finely crafted and, I dunno, maybe transcendent as, say, Greenberg's The Celebrant, which remains my favorite fictional baseball book. But ... but ... this ... (and, in all fairness, this, having read The Southpaw ... because I don't know how it would read as a standalone, but I'm guessing it wouldn't be the same) ... is a beautiful, glorious, raw, and emotional (elegaic?) journey ... and well worth the ride.
Reader's free association: This morning, a few of us were discussing Robinson's exquisite, sublime, graceful (and, here, unequivocally, elegiac) Gilead ... for unrelated reasons ... and I couldn't help drawing contrasts (... no, attempts at comparison or analogy would be pointless). The books have nothing (first and foremost, being at opposite ends of the literary/word-smithy and vernacular spectrum) and everything in common ... [OK, now I'm going out on a limb, but it's like comparing Alameddine's (to my mind, self-important and overblown) An Unnecessary Woman to Zevin's painfully joyful and gratifying The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, but I digress.]
Special bonus: Like with the first book, I (really) appreciated reading the lengthy, informative - very much not simply page-filling - introductions that the author wrote many decades after the books' original publication. They put the author's and the (books') protagonists' lives in context, and, with the latter book, put the (iconic) movie in context as well.
Now I need to track down the iconic 1973 movie, with Michael Moriarty and Robert DeNiro... It looks like I can watch it on various platforms for $2.99. But first, I need to replenish my tear ducts....
OK, I cried, pretty much nonstop, through the last thirteen pages....
I realize sports, particularly baseball, books aren't for everyone, and fictional sports, particularly historical (period) fiction about sports, falls into a rather unique niche. And, ultimately, I don't think this book (or series) is as finely crafted and, I dunno, maybe transcendent as, say, Greenberg's The Celebrant, which remains my favorite fictional baseball book. But ... but ... this ... (and, in all fairness, this, having read The Southpaw ... because I don't know how it would read as a standalone, but I'm guessing it wouldn't be the same) ... is a beautiful, glorious, raw, and emotional (elegaic?) journey ... and well worth the ride.
Reader's free association: This morning, a few of us were discussing Robinson's exquisite, sublime, graceful (and, here, unequivocally, elegiac) Gilead ... for unrelated reasons ... and I couldn't help drawing contrasts (... no, attempts at comparison or analogy would be pointless). The books have nothing (first and foremost, being at opposite ends of the literary/word-smithy and vernacular spectrum) and everything in common ... [OK, now I'm going out on a limb, but it's like comparing Alameddine's (to my mind, self-important and overblown) An Unnecessary Woman to Zevin's painfully joyful and gratifying The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry, but I digress.]
Special bonus: Like with the first book, I (really) appreciated reading the lengthy, informative - very much not simply page-filling - introductions that the author wrote many decades after the books' original publication. They put the author's and the (books') protagonists' lives in context, and, with the latter book, put the (iconic) movie in context as well.
Now I need to track down the iconic 1973 movie, with Michael Moriarty and Robert DeNiro... It looks like I can watch it on various platforms for $2.99. But first, I need to replenish my tear ducts....
October 18, 2022
I haven’t read a book quite like this in my life, and I’m not likely to again—no one else I’ve read writes in anything close to this voice.
I don’t know the half of how he does it. Life and death and baseball. Hilarious, mad, and sweet.
“But you do miss the noise and the excitement,” he said. “You never pass a ball field without lumping up a little in your throat. Goddam it anyhow, by the time you are old enough to have more sense than power you realize you already pissed away the most exciting days of your life.”
“Do they leave you swear like that out there?” I said.
“Everybody swears everywhere,” said he. “Shakespeare and all the rest, all up and down the years they swore at life. Plain old mother talk ain’t nowhere near strong enough to describe such a terrible mixup as life, Author.”
“Life is good,” I said. “How would you like to die tomorrow?”
“I would not,” he said, “because I am under contract to fill out the year here, and because I keep laughing every minute, and because I want to finish up a book I am writing, and because I would like to see if you boys can cop the flag which you should of copped by now. You should of shook them son of a bitches long ago.”
I don’t know the half of how he does it. Life and death and baseball. Hilarious, mad, and sweet.
“I been handed a shit deal,” he said. “I am doomeded.”
“I am falling off this board laughing,” said I.
July 3, 2020
Classic baseball novel. Perhaps best of breed. Want to re-read. Regional library system doesn't own copy!
December 5, 2024
REVIEW OF THE L.A. THEATER WORKS ADAPTATION
A compelling audio presentation featuring strong performances from Jonathan Silverman, Ed Begley Jr., Harry Shearer and others. A touching story of loyalty in difficult times, don't go in expecting a happy ending. 😭
A compelling audio presentation featuring strong performances from Jonathan Silverman, Ed Begley Jr., Harry Shearer and others. A touching story of loyalty in difficult times, don't go in expecting a happy ending. 😭
November 22, 2021
There is a truism that baseball is the most cinematic of all sports, which makes it particularly effective as a subject for film. I subscribe to this truism and would like to offer a truism to go along with that: baseball is the least theatrical of all sports, making it a particularly terrible subject for the stage.
That's the case with Bang the Drum Slowly. This melancholy tale of loyalty and inevitability has a strong emotional core, and it works incredibly well on screen (even earning Vincent Gardenia an Academy Award nomination for his performance as Dutch -- the paranoid old manager), but on stage, where the wonder of stadia disappear into lighting and set dressing tricks, and the action that can't be shown is told through stilted character narration, Bang the Drum Slowly can only be a skeleton of its source materials -- both novel and film.
Yet there is still one part of this play that recommends it, particularly if one decides to listen on audiobook: the rhythm of the dialogue. In this version by L.A. Theatreworks, Jonathan Silverman (yep, the neurotic dude from Weekend at Bernie's) delivers his every line with a rat-a-tat precision that uses not a single contraction. It is always "do not" and "it is" and "I am." There is something off-kilter about this speech pattern that transports the listener back to old-timey baseball without having to see old uniforms or hear dates rattled off. If only for this peculiarity, Bang the Drum Slowly is worth a listen. But trust me ... you'll enjoy the film a whole lot more.
That's the case with Bang the Drum Slowly. This melancholy tale of loyalty and inevitability has a strong emotional core, and it works incredibly well on screen (even earning Vincent Gardenia an Academy Award nomination for his performance as Dutch -- the paranoid old manager), but on stage, where the wonder of stadia disappear into lighting and set dressing tricks, and the action that can't be shown is told through stilted character narration, Bang the Drum Slowly can only be a skeleton of its source materials -- both novel and film.
Yet there is still one part of this play that recommends it, particularly if one decides to listen on audiobook: the rhythm of the dialogue. In this version by L.A. Theatreworks, Jonathan Silverman (yep, the neurotic dude from Weekend at Bernie's) delivers his every line with a rat-a-tat precision that uses not a single contraction. It is always "do not" and "it is" and "I am." There is something off-kilter about this speech pattern that transports the listener back to old-timey baseball without having to see old uniforms or hear dates rattled off. If only for this peculiarity, Bang the Drum Slowly is worth a listen. But trust me ... you'll enjoy the film a whole lot more.
January 5, 2020
Bang the Drum Slowly is a first-person narrative told by Henry “Author” Wiggam, a major league baseball pitcher and writer. Wiggam’s story is about a dying backup catcher who has no friends on the team and a magical season where everything comes together for Wiggam professionally. The best of times and worst of times.
Bruce, the backup catcher, spends the story in denial. Wiggam brings the other players around to befriending Bruce once they learn of his prognosis. And yet there are no teary ballplayers or Lou Gehrig speeches to put an exclamation point on it. It’s what Brian’s Song would have been if Brian Piccolo and Gayle Sayers were unable to express their feelings.
The realism of the ballplayers and clubhouse is like Jim Bouton’s Ball Four only this book was written 15 years earlier. What little I read about Harris didn’t explain how he knew the working of a professional ballclub although he must have spent some time as a sportswriter to get the feel.
My Grand Aunt Katie and I went to a flea market and she bought this book and gifted it to me after reading it. She was in town to visit my grandfather as he began his cancer treatment. For years it sat on the bookshelf and moved with me by my count 8 times since 1991. I never saw Aunt Katie after that visit. She died unexpectedly from complications during a minor surgery. It just looked like a baseball book when she handed it to me, but she must have been drawn to it due to the circumstances of her visit.
It’s a story that says death is a part of life and we can’t run away from it. It’s not a message that I’m happy to be reminded of.
Bruce, the backup catcher, spends the story in denial. Wiggam brings the other players around to befriending Bruce once they learn of his prognosis. And yet there are no teary ballplayers or Lou Gehrig speeches to put an exclamation point on it. It’s what Brian’s Song would have been if Brian Piccolo and Gayle Sayers were unable to express their feelings.
The realism of the ballplayers and clubhouse is like Jim Bouton’s Ball Four only this book was written 15 years earlier. What little I read about Harris didn’t explain how he knew the working of a professional ballclub although he must have spent some time as a sportswriter to get the feel.
My Grand Aunt Katie and I went to a flea market and she bought this book and gifted it to me after reading it. She was in town to visit my grandfather as he began his cancer treatment. For years it sat on the bookshelf and moved with me by my count 8 times since 1991. I never saw Aunt Katie after that visit. She died unexpectedly from complications during a minor surgery. It just looked like a baseball book when she handed it to me, but she must have been drawn to it due to the circumstances of her visit.
It’s a story that says death is a part of life and we can’t run away from it. It’s not a message that I’m happy to be reminded of.
May 13, 2009
A beautiful novel about baseball and about death, aka TEGWAR, The Exciting Game Without Any Rules. The second and best of Mark Harris's Henry Wiggen books, which the Bison imprint of University of Nebraska Press has brought back into print (though you can still get the paperback containing the three titles from the '50s for < $5 used). The film version, starring a young Robert DeNiro as the "doomded" Bruce Pearson (and also starring a now-dead ballpark in Queens), may be my favorite baseball movie, and in an earlier TV version, Wiggen is played by a very young Paul Newman.
July 7, 2012
I was disappointed by this book. It's on several lists of the best baseball books ever written, but that praise just makes me doubt the quality of the baseball book genre. My biggest issue with the book is that the characters, including the Henry Wiggen - the narrator and main character - seem hollow and cardboard-like. The parts of the book that were meant to have an emotional impact didn't resonate with me at all. I think part of the problem may be that Harris chose to narrate the book from the point of view of a character who doesn't have a great deal of self-awareness or reflexivity. He's as clueless about his own behavior and emotions (if he has any) as we are. I appreciate the authenticity of the voice, but at times I felt like I was reading from a box score rather than reading a story about characters.
If you're going to read baseball fiction, I recommend The Natural or The Art of Fielding.
If you're going to read baseball fiction, I recommend The Natural or The Art of Fielding.
February 22, 2020
The main character Henry Wiggen is now a veteran, and tells a story partly about him and partly about his teammate. Author Mark Harris also worked on the screenplay for the movie, which I haven't seen. In short, this is better than the first book, but with a sudden ending.
March 22, 2014
Originally published in 1956, this is frequently cited as the best baseball novel ever, but that’s like saying The Godfather has something to do with the Mafia. BtDS is a study in manhood as exemplified by Henry Wiggen, star left-handed pitcher for the major league New York Mammoths. Twenty-four-years-old and intent on winning the division pennant (there were no wildcard playoffs back then), Wiggen carries himself with the maturity of a professional. He enjoys a good time, is genuinely happy to be married with a kid on the way, and keeps one eye locked on his own future. Wiggen’s outsized authenticity comes through frequently, as when he’s haggling for a contract: “I rather play baseball than anything else,” he says. “I do it best. I like the trains. I like the hotels. I like the boys. I like the hours and the money. I like the fame and the glory. I like to think of fifty thousand people getting up in the morning and squashing themself to death in the subway to come see me play ball.” Wiggen’s best friend is a friendly, wide-eyed innocent named Bruce Pearson, who is a ham-and-egger catcher on the team. After Bruce is diagnosed with a terminal illness, Arthur goes to extra trouble to look after his doomed friend, keeping his condition a secret from other players and (especially) the owners. It is feat of humanity, loyalty, bravery, friendship, and fellowship, and it informs— almost consumes—Wiggen’s entire life. Stylistically, Howard’s near stream-of-consciousness writing falls somewhere between Jack Kerouac’s On the Road and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Everything Is Illuminated, and it lends Wiggen a heartfelt, folksy charm that dovetails perfectly with his strikingly big-hearted brotherly love for Bruce. VERDICT This is a moving, genuine, and laugh-out-loud funny story that is an absolute original American gem.
Find this review and others at Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
Find this review and others at Books for Dudes, the online reader's advisory column for men from Library Journal. Copyright Library Journal.
March 11, 2011
Bang the Drum Slowly is one of the top 100 baseball novels ever written, and deservedly so.
The narrator of Bang the Drum is Henry Wiggen, ace pitcher for the fictitious New York Mammoths, circa 1955. Wiggen's teammates affectionately refer to him as "Author" because he's written a baseball book. Author chronicles a full year on the circuit, describing games—the wins, the losses, the heroics and the setbacks. He keeps track of Sid's homerun count as Sid endeavors to break Ruth's record for homeruns in a season. And he tracks Washington as the team they cannot shake. Even though the Mammoths should've left them in the dust before the All Star break, Washington hangs on, always trailing by between a game and a half and four games as the season dwindles down.
It's true, baseball is made for statistics, but a scene near the middle of Bang the Drum, between several teammates in the locker room, takes it to new heights: "Today is the first time I ever officially hung this jock on this particular nail at 4:02 p.m. in the afternoon of July 9, 1955," said Perry.
But all of that is mere backdrop to the real story: Bruce Pearson, Wiggen's pal and second string catcher, at the onset of the season is diagnosed with a terminal disease. At first Wiggen keeps it a secret, fearing that if the manager knew, Pearson would be dropped from the roster. But secrets are hard to keep, and he lets it slip to one teammate; before long everyone knows.
Bang the Drum is remarkable on many levels. First, Harris captures brilliantly, through his unassuming narrative, the camaraderie of a big league club—as well as the animosity. His ear for baseball vernacular is impeccable. The story at times is hilarious—on a par with Bull Durham—but also both bittersweet and heart wrenching. Perhaps best of all, because it is a study of human nature, one need not be a baseball aficionado to enjoy it.
Bang the Drum Slowly is a masterpiece of fiction and comes with my highest recommendation.
The narrator of Bang the Drum is Henry Wiggen, ace pitcher for the fictitious New York Mammoths, circa 1955. Wiggen's teammates affectionately refer to him as "Author" because he's written a baseball book. Author chronicles a full year on the circuit, describing games—the wins, the losses, the heroics and the setbacks. He keeps track of Sid's homerun count as Sid endeavors to break Ruth's record for homeruns in a season. And he tracks Washington as the team they cannot shake. Even though the Mammoths should've left them in the dust before the All Star break, Washington hangs on, always trailing by between a game and a half and four games as the season dwindles down.
It's true, baseball is made for statistics, but a scene near the middle of Bang the Drum, between several teammates in the locker room, takes it to new heights: "Today is the first time I ever officially hung this jock on this particular nail at 4:02 p.m. in the afternoon of July 9, 1955," said Perry.
But all of that is mere backdrop to the real story: Bruce Pearson, Wiggen's pal and second string catcher, at the onset of the season is diagnosed with a terminal disease. At first Wiggen keeps it a secret, fearing that if the manager knew, Pearson would be dropped from the roster. But secrets are hard to keep, and he lets it slip to one teammate; before long everyone knows.
Bang the Drum is remarkable on many levels. First, Harris captures brilliantly, through his unassuming narrative, the camaraderie of a big league club—as well as the animosity. His ear for baseball vernacular is impeccable. The story at times is hilarious—on a par with Bull Durham—but also both bittersweet and heart wrenching. Perhaps best of all, because it is a study of human nature, one need not be a baseball aficionado to enjoy it.
Bang the Drum Slowly is a masterpiece of fiction and comes with my highest recommendation.
August 7, 2013
I just couldn't get with it. The grammar was something but I don't know what. This was a team in the 1950s so I'm not sure why the narrator spoke the way he did. I must have missed something. I just don't know what the point of the whole story was. The one teammate is dying but we don't even get emotionally involved in that because of the way it is told. I guess I could see that the men were friends as well as teammates but even that was not very interesting.
There were a couple of things that did stand out for me...
One was humorous when some of the guys who use to be friends were not getting along and no one was speaking to anyone else, the narrator says "The whole club gives me the creeps. I am libel to wake up some morning not speaking to myself." That was funny!
The other thing I marked was on page 184 when he gives a description of what a catcher's job is and what he must do to help his pitcher...."His catcher must help him, must also be brain and memory and bluff, not only just stop the ball in case the hitter don't. A man's catcher must be eyes and ears, watching runners, watching wind, watching the lay of the land behind the box, watching the board, watching signs, picking up everything the pitcher might miss." Great description that really shows how important the catcher is to the game, to the team, to the pitcher. The book is actually worth reading for this paragraph if nothing else.
There were a couple of things that did stand out for me...
One was humorous when some of the guys who use to be friends were not getting along and no one was speaking to anyone else, the narrator says "The whole club gives me the creeps. I am libel to wake up some morning not speaking to myself." That was funny!
The other thing I marked was on page 184 when he gives a description of what a catcher's job is and what he must do to help his pitcher...."His catcher must help him, must also be brain and memory and bluff, not only just stop the ball in case the hitter don't. A man's catcher must be eyes and ears, watching runners, watching wind, watching the lay of the land behind the box, watching the board, watching signs, picking up everything the pitcher might miss." Great description that really shows how important the catcher is to the game, to the team, to the pitcher. The book is actually worth reading for this paragraph if nothing else.
December 29, 2021
This is a pretty good book, first published in 1956, about a fictional big league baseball team whose third-string catcher (Bruce Pearson) learns that he has incurable Hodgkin’s Disease before the season begins. It is narrated in first person by his pitcher friend, Henry “Author” Wiggen.
Bruce is a simple-minded good ol’ boy, racist jock from small town Georgia, and Author does nothing to dispel this negative depiction of him as the book unfurls. In fact, one of the most interesting facets for me was that the book was published not long after MLB integrated, and while we don’t learn much about the four black players on the team (they are never even denoted as black), the book’s author Mark Harris does an amazing job of getting inside the racial tensions on the team without ever actually making the narrative about them specifically.
My favorite passage, below, is about how Bruce is a pretty bad catcher, despite being a decent hitter. In describing all of the things that Bruce does wrong as a catcher, it also highlights all the things that make great catchers great, and in so doing made me think of my favorite catcher, Yadier Molina.
“To Bruce a pitcher is only a fellow throwing the ball, and a catcher is only there to stop it and keep the game from dragging, which is not what a pitcher is and not what a catcher is except maybe in the Alabama State Amateur Baseball League, which is why it’s the Alabama State Amateur Baseball League and not New York. A pitcher is a fellow with a baseball in his hand facing a son of a bitch with a stick of wood in his hand, trying to keep the man with the wood from hitting the baseball solid because if he hits it too many times the pitcher becomes a man without a job, and he is throwing with his arm and his brain and his memory and his bluff for the sake of his pocket and his family, and he needs help. His catcher must help him, must also be brain and memory and bluff, not only just stop the ball in case the hitter don’t. A man’s catcher must be eyes and ears, watching runners, watching wind, watching the lay of the land behind the box, watching the board, watching signs, picking up everything the pitcher might miss, which Bruce never was, this year nor any other in all his life, for he never loved catching that much. He loves hitting. He wishes you could hit and not be bothered with catching, loving to do the one thing he does best, which in many a sport you can get away with. You can be a block of cement and do only the one thing a block of cement can do and call it “Football”, or you can be 7 feet tall and stand around dropping balls in a basket and call it “Basketball”, or you can whack a little ball and walk after it and whack it again and call it “Golf”. But these are not baseball.”
Bruce is a simple-minded good ol’ boy, racist jock from small town Georgia, and Author does nothing to dispel this negative depiction of him as the book unfurls. In fact, one of the most interesting facets for me was that the book was published not long after MLB integrated, and while we don’t learn much about the four black players on the team (they are never even denoted as black), the book’s author Mark Harris does an amazing job of getting inside the racial tensions on the team without ever actually making the narrative about them specifically.
My favorite passage, below, is about how Bruce is a pretty bad catcher, despite being a decent hitter. In describing all of the things that Bruce does wrong as a catcher, it also highlights all the things that make great catchers great, and in so doing made me think of my favorite catcher, Yadier Molina.
“To Bruce a pitcher is only a fellow throwing the ball, and a catcher is only there to stop it and keep the game from dragging, which is not what a pitcher is and not what a catcher is except maybe in the Alabama State Amateur Baseball League, which is why it’s the Alabama State Amateur Baseball League and not New York. A pitcher is a fellow with a baseball in his hand facing a son of a bitch with a stick of wood in his hand, trying to keep the man with the wood from hitting the baseball solid because if he hits it too many times the pitcher becomes a man without a job, and he is throwing with his arm and his brain and his memory and his bluff for the sake of his pocket and his family, and he needs help. His catcher must help him, must also be brain and memory and bluff, not only just stop the ball in case the hitter don’t. A man’s catcher must be eyes and ears, watching runners, watching wind, watching the lay of the land behind the box, watching the board, watching signs, picking up everything the pitcher might miss, which Bruce never was, this year nor any other in all his life, for he never loved catching that much. He loves hitting. He wishes you could hit and not be bothered with catching, loving to do the one thing he does best, which in many a sport you can get away with. You can be a block of cement and do only the one thing a block of cement can do and call it “Football”, or you can be 7 feet tall and stand around dropping balls in a basket and call it “Basketball”, or you can whack a little ball and walk after it and whack it again and call it “Golf”. But these are not baseball.”
November 18, 2024
It's a strength of this book that the author is working purely in the voice of a bright and funny professional ballplayer, but also a weakness in that the ballplayer is understandably not a professional novelist and puts in way too many details about individual ballgames, given that the topic is how the ballplayer and his teammates deal with the terminal cancer diagnosis of a dopey but loveable journeyman catcher. What you get, though, is extremely charming; you get right into the culture of a ballclub and the interplay between the lunkheads on the team. My favorite thing was the card game called Tegwar invented to fleece passing rubes. Anyway in the end everyone knows the catcher is dying but nobody admits it; they just treat him better and better, and his baseball skills even improve because people start investing in his success. By the last page it's not exactly a weeper but... close. Recommended to anyone with an affection for baseball.
February 24, 2021
I saw the movie decades ago, and loved it; the book is good, but this is the rare case of a movie surpassing the book. The story itself is great, but the language of the telling doesn't seem to have aged as well. Of course, baseball as a background for life's struggles, joys, friendships and passages still holds my attention, and I'm glad I finally read it.
May 20, 2014
The baseball season is just underway. What better time than now to pick up Bang the Drum Slowly? Harris' ball players are just the types you would expect to encounter in a clubhouse. They banter with each other, torment one another, womanizer, gamble and sometimes care about winning. Though because this story takes place in the mid-fifties there is a major difference between the characters and ball players we know today. I'm pretty sure Andy Pettitte never had to sell life insurance to Jorge Posada to augment his baseball salary.
While the games are chronicled and the chase for the pennant is on, baseball is not at the heart of the story. Henry Wiggen, a left-handed pitcher documents a season at the outset of which he learns that his teammate, a third string catcher named Bruce Pearson has Hodgkin's disease. Henry, better known by his teammates as 'Author' because he had published a book, tries to protect Bruce, both by making him a better player, and by attempting to let the truth of Pearson's condition stay hidden.
Some have attacked the first person narrative of Wiggen, saying that the narcissism of the ball player detracts from the true tragedy of Pearson and keeps the spotlight on Henry. I disagree with this conclusion. The self-involved nature of Wiggen gives us a true perspective on the type of environment that all characters in the book live. To say that an athlete can step out of the sphere of self-praise and truly be an altruistic character is foolish and an attempt to do so would have ruined the book. They're athletes. They're self involved.
There was only one thing about the book I didn't like, and it had nothing to do with the story. It was the prose. I know, you're rolling your eyes again because you've heard me say it a million times before. This book is praised because of the vernacular used by he characters. And I agree. They talk like guys you would expect to meet in a clubhouse. Almost. I noticed straightaway that Harris didn't use contractions in the conversations. 'Would not' instead of 'wouldn't'. It happened over and over again. You would (or at least I would) expect poorly educated ball players who use slang terms and vernacular style language to use more contractions. It felt awkward to hear them say 'do not'. But then later on I noticed that some characters started using the contraction, only to stop again. I couldn't find a pattern or a seeming reason as to why and where the apostrophes were used, and it bugged me. Not enough to ruin the novel, but it bugged me.
My favorite line from this work: Suppose you were in a barrel of shit up to your neck and a fellow started throwing baseballs at you. What would you do? Would you duck?
I'm going to have to use hat one...
While the games are chronicled and the chase for the pennant is on, baseball is not at the heart of the story. Henry Wiggen, a left-handed pitcher documents a season at the outset of which he learns that his teammate, a third string catcher named Bruce Pearson has Hodgkin's disease. Henry, better known by his teammates as 'Author' because he had published a book, tries to protect Bruce, both by making him a better player, and by attempting to let the truth of Pearson's condition stay hidden.
Some have attacked the first person narrative of Wiggen, saying that the narcissism of the ball player detracts from the true tragedy of Pearson and keeps the spotlight on Henry. I disagree with this conclusion. The self-involved nature of Wiggen gives us a true perspective on the type of environment that all characters in the book live. To say that an athlete can step out of the sphere of self-praise and truly be an altruistic character is foolish and an attempt to do so would have ruined the book. They're athletes. They're self involved.
There was only one thing about the book I didn't like, and it had nothing to do with the story. It was the prose. I know, you're rolling your eyes again because you've heard me say it a million times before. This book is praised because of the vernacular used by he characters. And I agree. They talk like guys you would expect to meet in a clubhouse. Almost. I noticed straightaway that Harris didn't use contractions in the conversations. 'Would not' instead of 'wouldn't'. It happened over and over again. You would (or at least I would) expect poorly educated ball players who use slang terms and vernacular style language to use more contractions. It felt awkward to hear them say 'do not'. But then later on I noticed that some characters started using the contraction, only to stop again. I couldn't find a pattern or a seeming reason as to why and where the apostrophes were used, and it bugged me. Not enough to ruin the novel, but it bugged me.
My favorite line from this work: Suppose you were in a barrel of shit up to your neck and a fellow started throwing baseballs at you. What would you do? Would you duck?
I'm going to have to use hat one...
January 3, 2010
Baseball novels don’t generally work, not even for this baseball fan. I thought The Natural was dreadful, for example. Nor have I read any of Harris’s other baseball novels, though I might now at least try Southpaw. Bang the Drum Slowly is a satisfying novel about friendship, written in the first person voice of Henry Wiggin, ace pitcher of the New York Mammoths. Wiggin is a smart baseball player and sharp-eyed observer of human nature. He gets along with most of his teammates and one, Bruce Pearson, a third-string catcher from Georgia, considers him a friend. During the off-season Pearson is diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease and it is Wiggin he calls from the Mayo Clinic to take him home to Georgia.
The novel tells the story of Pearson’s final season with the Mammoth and how Wiggin’s does what he can to protect him and ensure that he plays the game he loves until the last possible moment. The description of 1950s baseball is ripe with tobacco juice, hotel card games, practical jokes, and country hardball with pitchers pitching deep into extra innings, starters relieving, and doubleheaders frequently scheduled. The pennant race and game descriptions, however authentic, are unimportant backdrops to the friendship and strategies used to keep Pearson’s illness secret as long as possible, adding both humor and pathos to the narrative. The plot holds no surprises beyond resolving whether Wiggin will successfully forestall a high-priced prostitute’s attempt to be named Pearson’s insurance beneficiary. Still the tale unfolds briskly and keeps your attention. What matters is the friendship and the at-core humanity of most of those involved with Pearson, including those who mostly ragged on the not-bright or always likable fringe player. Bang the Drum Slowly is a quick read but it has both style and substance and avoids sentimentality very well. It tells a simple story directly, grounded in the details of its characters, and is a small triumph of a yarn.
The novel tells the story of Pearson’s final season with the Mammoth and how Wiggin’s does what he can to protect him and ensure that he plays the game he loves until the last possible moment. The description of 1950s baseball is ripe with tobacco juice, hotel card games, practical jokes, and country hardball with pitchers pitching deep into extra innings, starters relieving, and doubleheaders frequently scheduled. The pennant race and game descriptions, however authentic, are unimportant backdrops to the friendship and strategies used to keep Pearson’s illness secret as long as possible, adding both humor and pathos to the narrative. The plot holds no surprises beyond resolving whether Wiggin will successfully forestall a high-priced prostitute’s attempt to be named Pearson’s insurance beneficiary. Still the tale unfolds briskly and keeps your attention. What matters is the friendship and the at-core humanity of most of those involved with Pearson, including those who mostly ragged on the not-bright or always likable fringe player. Bang the Drum Slowly is a quick read but it has both style and substance and avoids sentimentality very well. It tells a simple story directly, grounded in the details of its characters, and is a small triumph of a yarn.
March 13, 2013
There's a fine story lurking in this novel somewhere, but it's muddied with excessive narrative dialect--a surprise for a late 1950s work. Ignoring that, and looking at the story purely, there is simply too much baseball, mechanical this-then-that telling of baseball feats and happenings, and all the while someone on the team is living with a terminal illness. The story is the terminal illness, but the narrative mostly follows another character with only sparse consideration for that story, inflated to 250 pages with baseball.
For all it's potential the novel falls well short and the ending is abrupt. Harris breaks the fourth wall a number of times, the worst of which sees the narrator defend the shortcoming described above, the focusing on the wrong character, the inclusion of too much baseball.
For all it's potential the novel falls well short and the ending is abrupt. Harris breaks the fourth wall a number of times, the worst of which sees the narrator defend the shortcoming described above, the focusing on the wrong character, the inclusion of too much baseball.
January 26, 2011
I loved this book. I borrowed it from the library to begin with but then bought it so I can reread it whenever I want. It is mainly about a young man with a terminal illness but it is mostly about living: about getting perspective, understanding and forgiving others, pulling together and being a friend.
The New York Mammoths are now "my favorite baseball team ever" :D. The first person narration was done so well that I know and like the Mammoths players and coaches better than any of the real-life ones I follow through the media, and their games and season were more memorable.
The long passage where Henry Wiggen talks to his catcher about brains and confidence was brilliant; and it was one of only many parts that made me know I will read this book again.
The New York Mammoths are now "my favorite baseball team ever" :D. The first person narration was done so well that I know and like the Mammoths players and coaches better than any of the real-life ones I follow through the media, and their games and season were more memorable.
The long passage where Henry Wiggen talks to his catcher about brains and confidence was brilliant; and it was one of only many parts that made me know I will read this book again.
November 14, 2012
An odd book. Ostensibly about baseball, Harris is sly provocateur of issues much deeper. From his asides about race to his literary pretensions of writing a novel w/in a novel, Bang the Drum insinuated itself into my consciousness. Almost plotless, and w/some issues never resolved, Bang's examination of life in the face of death: the banalities and the covert narcissism of the main character, the unconsidered immorality surrounding the Ballplayer's insurance make for a surprisingly thought provoking read. Also, from a historical standpoint, Bang's almost comic that in the early 50's a pitcher who wins 20 games and 2 World Series games has to schlep insurance in the off season. Oh how times have changed.
November 5, 2014
Not life-changing or flashy, but a fun read. A left-handed pitcher near the end of his career finds himself in a tough bind: his best friend on the team has a life threatening disease and only he knows about it. As the season marches on and the team gets closer to the pennant, his friend gets worse until the club eventually finds out.
I really like the colloquial language and first person to second person narrative. The chapters were also neither too long nor too short. The author or "Arthur" bares his doubts and reflections, but it's never overbearing. The ending was a bit too movie, especially in terms of timing, but a nice light read.
I really like the colloquial language and first person to second person narrative. The chapters were also neither too long nor too short. The author or "Arthur" bares his doubts and reflections, but it's never overbearing. The ending was a bit too movie, especially in terms of timing, but a nice light read.
May 3, 2014
What a terrific story that stands the test of time. I loved the voice of the narrator and the language from a common 1950s vernacular. " a-tall, stunk up the joint, this is a dilly, louse it up" And funny- "I love motorcycles," he said. "You are 19," I said, "You will get over it". In a crowded room with the narrator, I bet I could listen in and find him. A touching relationship slowly revealed between the two men and then the teammates . I lucked out to borrow a Library copy from 1989. The pages were browned, worn and dog eared. I fit into my hand like a well used baseball glove.
March 15, 2008
One of the best sports books ever, this is the second of Harris' Henry Wiggin novels. This one centers around the star pitcher's friendship with Bruce Pearson, a journeyman catcher and world class simpleton who is dying of cancer. As in the southpaw, its a wonderful study of human nature written in a deceptively simple style that belies its depth and grace. One of the best last lines of any book I've read ("From Here on in I rag nobody.")
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 21, 2025
Bang the Drum Slowly, written by Mark Harris, based on his novel
Nine out of 10
This is a note on the film with the script written by Mark Harris based on his own novel
Although you can find this splendid motion picture on The New York Times’ Best 1,000 Movies Ever Made list - https://www.listchallenges.com/new-yo... - and it has been nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor in a Supporting role for Vincent Gardenia in the complex role of the coach of the baseball team The New York Mammoths, the film seems to have been largely ignored, or not acclaimed to the extent it deserves anyway.
Michael Moriarty is outstanding in the leading role of Henry Wiggen aka Author, the star pitcher of the New York team – something of an issue for European and other viewers, except for the fans of the game, would be the fact that the feature does cover and refers frequently to aspects of an activity that we largely ignore in most parts of the world, though America is not the only fan base and they watch it in Cuba, Japan and quite a few other places.
The friend of the pitcher is Bruce Pearson, none other than Robert de Niro, the artist that needs no introduction anywhere in the world for anyone with just a shadow of knowledge about the Screen Trade, and this other member of the Mammoths team is a catcher with talent, though he has not managed for some reason to rise to the expectations so far and due to his condition that we learn about right near the start, he would not have the chance to improve and become a celebrated star.
The young man was diagnosed with the Hodgkin’s disease and this means that he will soon die, making this a tragedy without the bothersome treatment that movies generally get today in Hollywood, and his dedicated, loyal, exemplary friend will not cease throughout the film to try and offer support, help the man who had been challenged even before the terminal illness by the fact that he is not bright, to say the least and remain polite.
Bruce looks like he is eating all the time – again, what he does is unfamiliar outside the Bible belt, the south of America, Trump territory alas, the place where they used to chew tobacco and they are so stuck in the middle ages (not all, but those who vote with the dimwit anyway) that they seem to love a monarch, in the person who keeps boasting about the amendment of the constitution that ‘gives him the right to do anything he wants’…in his silly, troubled and unstable, in spite of his other favorite leitmotif, ‘a stable genius’, which is now the title of an interesting book, in which one of the revelations is that the man went to the most sacred place in the Pentagon, only to insult the generals there, stating that they are a bunch of babies and he would not go to war with them…
Early on, Author talks to the owners and managers of the baseball team about his future with the Mammoths and his extension of the contract and they mention the fact that some players have peculiar, outré demands and it turns out that this one has an even more bizarre request in that he wants an extension that would connect him with Bruce in an unprecedented manner, asking that if he stays, the same goes for Bruce and if one of them is sold to another team, that must include the other.
Those in charge refuse this outrageous provision outright, but then they call Dutch aka wondrous Vincent Gardenia, nominated for his brilliant take on this part, and the coach is tormented by the prospect of losing the pitcher, the catcher or both, considering his options are limited – indeed, he tries to think of other players he would like to have, but comes to the conclusion that he would not have them – and in the end, he says that they should agree to the bizarre demand.
However, they want to know what is going on here, why is Henry so attached to the rather slow and thick catcher and they wonder if they are ‘queer’, in a rather, if not absolutely demeaning way – though we must consider the fact that the film is about fifty years old and the events depicted in it could be even older and the attitude towards those of sexual orientation others than the only accepted heterosexual variety was not just hostile, in cases it could be hurtful both physically and psychologically.
Both Author and Bruce want to keep the terminal illness a secret, but the former tells Horse aka Danny Aiello and instructs him to keep it a secret, only to find that the ‘secret’ would be shared with his roommate and ultimately, more people would know about the dark, horrible future that awaits the catcher and they become sentimental…
In one scene, Dutch is about to lose his temper and composure and seems to find a clever exit from the potentially embarrassing and maybe painful development, by sliding away and maybe pretending that his pity and sympathy, that is about to bring tears to his eyes and make him lose control and who knows, maybe have a breakdown in front of the team of athletes waiting for a game, is in fact destined for himself and not for the soon to die, simple, yet so friendly and easy to take even insults Bruce.
This apparently little known gem appears to have most, if not all the elements of positivity, as identified by Barbara Fredrickson in her classic Positivity – awe, inspiration, amusement, interest, hope, pride, serenity, joy, gratitude and love, though it is a compelling tragedy
Nine out of 10
This is a note on the film with the script written by Mark Harris based on his own novel
Although you can find this splendid motion picture on The New York Times’ Best 1,000 Movies Ever Made list - https://www.listchallenges.com/new-yo... - and it has been nominated for an Oscar for Best Actor in a Supporting role for Vincent Gardenia in the complex role of the coach of the baseball team The New York Mammoths, the film seems to have been largely ignored, or not acclaimed to the extent it deserves anyway.
Michael Moriarty is outstanding in the leading role of Henry Wiggen aka Author, the star pitcher of the New York team – something of an issue for European and other viewers, except for the fans of the game, would be the fact that the feature does cover and refers frequently to aspects of an activity that we largely ignore in most parts of the world, though America is not the only fan base and they watch it in Cuba, Japan and quite a few other places.
The friend of the pitcher is Bruce Pearson, none other than Robert de Niro, the artist that needs no introduction anywhere in the world for anyone with just a shadow of knowledge about the Screen Trade, and this other member of the Mammoths team is a catcher with talent, though he has not managed for some reason to rise to the expectations so far and due to his condition that we learn about right near the start, he would not have the chance to improve and become a celebrated star.
The young man was diagnosed with the Hodgkin’s disease and this means that he will soon die, making this a tragedy without the bothersome treatment that movies generally get today in Hollywood, and his dedicated, loyal, exemplary friend will not cease throughout the film to try and offer support, help the man who had been challenged even before the terminal illness by the fact that he is not bright, to say the least and remain polite.
Bruce looks like he is eating all the time – again, what he does is unfamiliar outside the Bible belt, the south of America, Trump territory alas, the place where they used to chew tobacco and they are so stuck in the middle ages (not all, but those who vote with the dimwit anyway) that they seem to love a monarch, in the person who keeps boasting about the amendment of the constitution that ‘gives him the right to do anything he wants’…in his silly, troubled and unstable, in spite of his other favorite leitmotif, ‘a stable genius’, which is now the title of an interesting book, in which one of the revelations is that the man went to the most sacred place in the Pentagon, only to insult the generals there, stating that they are a bunch of babies and he would not go to war with them…
Early on, Author talks to the owners and managers of the baseball team about his future with the Mammoths and his extension of the contract and they mention the fact that some players have peculiar, outré demands and it turns out that this one has an even more bizarre request in that he wants an extension that would connect him with Bruce in an unprecedented manner, asking that if he stays, the same goes for Bruce and if one of them is sold to another team, that must include the other.
Those in charge refuse this outrageous provision outright, but then they call Dutch aka wondrous Vincent Gardenia, nominated for his brilliant take on this part, and the coach is tormented by the prospect of losing the pitcher, the catcher or both, considering his options are limited – indeed, he tries to think of other players he would like to have, but comes to the conclusion that he would not have them – and in the end, he says that they should agree to the bizarre demand.
However, they want to know what is going on here, why is Henry so attached to the rather slow and thick catcher and they wonder if they are ‘queer’, in a rather, if not absolutely demeaning way – though we must consider the fact that the film is about fifty years old and the events depicted in it could be even older and the attitude towards those of sexual orientation others than the only accepted heterosexual variety was not just hostile, in cases it could be hurtful both physically and psychologically.
Both Author and Bruce want to keep the terminal illness a secret, but the former tells Horse aka Danny Aiello and instructs him to keep it a secret, only to find that the ‘secret’ would be shared with his roommate and ultimately, more people would know about the dark, horrible future that awaits the catcher and they become sentimental…
In one scene, Dutch is about to lose his temper and composure and seems to find a clever exit from the potentially embarrassing and maybe painful development, by sliding away and maybe pretending that his pity and sympathy, that is about to bring tears to his eyes and make him lose control and who knows, maybe have a breakdown in front of the team of athletes waiting for a game, is in fact destined for himself and not for the soon to die, simple, yet so friendly and easy to take even insults Bruce.
This apparently little known gem appears to have most, if not all the elements of positivity, as identified by Barbara Fredrickson in her classic Positivity – awe, inspiration, amusement, interest, hope, pride, serenity, joy, gratitude and love, though it is a compelling tragedy
December 25, 2014
Started off very slow, and I really wasn't into it. Even contemplated not finishing it for a while, but boy, would that have been a mistake! I don't remember exactly where, but it got a lot better, quite quickly. It's a great story about life and death, and friendships with a baseball backdrop, but you need not be a baseball fan to enjoy it, although it probably would help.
July 20, 2017
The Natural is a wonderful novel, beautifully written and conceived. As is true, about The Natural, so is it true about Bang The Drum Slowly. It is beautifully written and the substance and style are poignant and funny and heartbreaking. I discovered the book in a box I have not gone through, until now. What a lucky find. Next in the surprise box is The Everlasting Man. I feel lucky.
January 21, 2016
Really enjoyed this classic baseball novel purportedly by a "southpaw" ballplayer for a great New York team called the Mammoths. Emotionally engaging page-turner with a unique narrative voice. Some time I'll dig up the other books in this series.
January 19, 2015
I know of no other book that addresses male relationships with this truth, the meanness men can display towards each other, even when it is to all their advantage to do otherwise. Friendship among women is a common literary theme. Among men or among men and women is seldom addressed.
February 10, 2008
This is one of the best novels about baseball that I've read. It's more of a story about guys and their interation with each other, they just happen to play baseball. It will break your heart.
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