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The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age
Kansas City, 1929: Myrtle and Jack Bennett sit down with another couple for an evening of bridge. As the game intensifies, Myrtle complains that Jack is a “bum bridge player.” For such insubordination, he slaps her hard in front of their stunned guests and announces he is leaving. Moments later, sobbing, with a Colt .32 pistol
in hand, Myrtle fires four shots, killing her husband.
The Roaring 1920s inspired nationwide fads–flagpole sitting, marathon dancing, swimming-pool endurance floating. But of all the mad games that cheered Americans between the wars, the least likely was contract bridge. As the Barnum of the bridge craze, Ely Culbertson, a tuxedoed boulevardier with a Russian accent, used mystique, brilliance, and a certain madness to transform bridge from a social pastime into a cultural movement that made him rich and famous. In writings, in lectures, and on the radio, he used the Bennett killing to dramatize bridge as the battle of the sexes. Indeed, Myrtle Bennett’s murder trial became a sensation because it brought a beautiful housewife–and hints of her husband’s infidelity–from the bridge table into the national spotlight. James A. Reed, Myrtle’s high-powered lawyer and onetime Democratic presidential candidate, delivered soaring, tear-filled courtroom orations. As Reed waxed on about the sanctity of womanhood, he was secretly conducting an extramarital romance with a feminist trailblazer who lived next door.
To the public, bridge symbolized tossing aside the ideals of the Puritans–who referred derisively to playing cards as “the Devil’s tickets”–and embracing the modern age. Ina time when such fearless women as Amelia Earhart, Dorothy Parker, and Marlene Dietrich were exalted for their boldness, Culbertson positioned his game as a challenge to all housebound women. At the bridge table, he insisted, a woman could be her husband’s equal, and more. In the gathering darkness of the Depression, Culbertson leveraged his own ballyhoo and naughty innuendo for all it was worth, maneuvering himself and his brilliant wife, Jo, his favorite bridge partner, into a media spectacle dubbed the Bridge Battle of the Century.
Through these larger-than-life characters and the timeless partnership game they played, The Devil’s Tickets captures a uniquely colorful age and a tension in marriage that is eternal.
From the Hardcover edition.
in hand, Myrtle fires four shots, killing her husband.
The Roaring 1920s inspired nationwide fads–flagpole sitting, marathon dancing, swimming-pool endurance floating. But of all the mad games that cheered Americans between the wars, the least likely was contract bridge. As the Barnum of the bridge craze, Ely Culbertson, a tuxedoed boulevardier with a Russian accent, used mystique, brilliance, and a certain madness to transform bridge from a social pastime into a cultural movement that made him rich and famous. In writings, in lectures, and on the radio, he used the Bennett killing to dramatize bridge as the battle of the sexes. Indeed, Myrtle Bennett’s murder trial became a sensation because it brought a beautiful housewife–and hints of her husband’s infidelity–from the bridge table into the national spotlight. James A. Reed, Myrtle’s high-powered lawyer and onetime Democratic presidential candidate, delivered soaring, tear-filled courtroom orations. As Reed waxed on about the sanctity of womanhood, he was secretly conducting an extramarital romance with a feminist trailblazer who lived next door.
To the public, bridge symbolized tossing aside the ideals of the Puritans–who referred derisively to playing cards as “the Devil’s tickets”–and embracing the modern age. Ina time when such fearless women as Amelia Earhart, Dorothy Parker, and Marlene Dietrich were exalted for their boldness, Culbertson positioned his game as a challenge to all housebound women. At the bridge table, he insisted, a woman could be her husband’s equal, and more. In the gathering darkness of the Depression, Culbertson leveraged his own ballyhoo and naughty innuendo for all it was worth, maneuvering himself and his brilliant wife, Jo, his favorite bridge partner, into a media spectacle dubbed the Bridge Battle of the Century.
Through these larger-than-life characters and the timeless partnership game they played, The Devil’s Tickets captures a uniquely colorful age and a tension in marriage that is eternal.
From the Hardcover edition.
328 pages, Paperback
First published June 4, 2009
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 96 reviews
July 19, 2009
During my junior year the bridge virus infected our entire high school. Like a particularly contagious strain of bird flu, it spread like wildfire – 400 students, living in close quarters with lots of free time on their hands was the perfect niche. My regular partner was a guy called Seamus, now a practicing doctor in Bailieboro, County Cavan (the home of Henry James’s ancestors). I can still remember the particular hand he played that lost us the Christmas tournament – failure to make a small slam in hearts, by one trick, doubled and vulnerable. And I can still recall the murderous rage that his mistake provoked, as if it happened only yesterday. But hey, at least I wasn’t married to the guy.
Murderous rage provoked by a partner’s mistake at bridge is one of two themes explored in Gary M. Pomerantz’s latest non-fiction effort, “The Devil’s Tickets”. By the end of the 1920s contract bridge had taken the U.S. by storm. Marriage, already a beleaguered institution, now had one more potential stress factor to contend with – the insidious deterioration in mutual respect that can result when spouses turn out to be bridge partners with greatly differing levels of ability. On a September evening in 1929 in Kansas City, Missouri, the marriage of Jack and Myrtle Bennett did not survive the strain: a heated altercation that broke out when Myrtle became infuriated by a blunder Jack made during play led to him slapping her before their guests and ended with Jack at the receiving end of two fatal shots. Not surprisingly, the “bridge murder” became a national cause celebre, and roughly half of “The Devil’s Tickets” is given over to Pomerantz’s account of events leading up to the “fatal hand”, and the trial that followed.
At this point, you can almost see the gears turning in the author’s head. He figures out (correctly) that the Kansas City murder alone is too slight to peg an entire book on. (One can only wish that someone had warned him that trial narratives are notoriously tricky, almost always ending up dull and uninspired, a trap that Pomerantz doesn’t manage to avoid.)
So he decides to add a second storyline, also revolving around a married couple – the famous bridge partnership of Josephine and Ely Culbertson. He tracks their rise to fame as bridge’s pre-eminent couple, Ely’s obsessive quest to prove his bidding method superior to all others, and to obtain complete domination in the area of teaching methods and punditry. This story also has a famous bridge game at its center – more specifically, a 5-week challenge tournament in which Ely and Jo took on (and trounced) the best of the bridge establishment, thereby sealing dominance of the Culbertson “brand”. Sadly, attaining the summit came at the cost of their marriage – Ely’s never-ending pathological need for adulation and ever-more outrageous delusions of grandeur proved too much for Jo, who began to develop a serious drinking problem. They divorced in 1937.
Pomerantz’s account of these two couple’s stories is workmanlike, but no more than that. As I already mentioned, he is not successful in making the trial scenes interesting. Spreading the trial account over three separate chapters, with other material interspersed, seems like nothing more than a desperate attempt to generate some fake suspense. Gossipy digressions about the private life of the defending attorney add nothing to the overall story and are little more than padding.
At about the three-quarter mark in the book I thought I had it figured – a somewhat pedestrian, but not completely uninteresting, account, organized around a central conceit that didn’t quite gel. But then things took a distinct turn for the worse, dropping the author several notches in my esteem. The final 50 pages of the book are given over to what the author grandiosely terms “The Search”, in which he takes it upon himself to track down what he appears to consider loose ends. In the process, he sheds any semblance of objective reporting and makes it clear that he has no qualms about violating the privacy of the dead, or engaging in posthumous speculation on the motives of those who can no longer speak for themselves. Thus, for instance, it takes no more than a walk through the apartment where Bennett died to inspire the following:
“Now, walking through the apartment, I see and feel and know that Byrd Rice’s story about the explosive moment is the way it must have happened” (there follows a detailed two-page account of ‘events’, presented as truth, despite being nothing more than a highly selective interpretation of the evidence). This is the “appeal to divine revelation as source of reportorial authority” gambit, which Pomerantz appears to consider sufficient to overturn the trial decision and declare his own guilty verdict on Myrtle. Given this willingness to leap to judgement, I found his rummaging through the details of her life for the remaining 61 years after she was found not guilty by the jury, including poking into the details of her will and cheap speculation as to her motives, distinctly unsavory. What should one make, for instance, of the author’s obvious relish at tracking down, years after Myrtle’s death, one of her co-workers at New York’s Carlyle Hotel, a man who had worked with her for fifteen years without knowing her past, then feeding the man file folders with every salacious headline about the 70-year old scandal. It is obvious that Michael O’ Connell, the co-worker in question, did not appreciate this revealing of information that his friend had wanted to keep confidential.
Truth is an elusive commodity, and expecting to find it in a work of non-fiction is probably the height of naivete. In the unsavory final section of this book, Gary M. Pomerantz reveals himself as a writer whose every sentence should be taken with a very large grain of salt.
Though intermittently entertaining, this book left a very bad taste in my mouth. Give it a miss.
Murderous rage provoked by a partner’s mistake at bridge is one of two themes explored in Gary M. Pomerantz’s latest non-fiction effort, “The Devil’s Tickets”. By the end of the 1920s contract bridge had taken the U.S. by storm. Marriage, already a beleaguered institution, now had one more potential stress factor to contend with – the insidious deterioration in mutual respect that can result when spouses turn out to be bridge partners with greatly differing levels of ability. On a September evening in 1929 in Kansas City, Missouri, the marriage of Jack and Myrtle Bennett did not survive the strain: a heated altercation that broke out when Myrtle became infuriated by a blunder Jack made during play led to him slapping her before their guests and ended with Jack at the receiving end of two fatal shots. Not surprisingly, the “bridge murder” became a national cause celebre, and roughly half of “The Devil’s Tickets” is given over to Pomerantz’s account of events leading up to the “fatal hand”, and the trial that followed.
At this point, you can almost see the gears turning in the author’s head. He figures out (correctly) that the Kansas City murder alone is too slight to peg an entire book on. (One can only wish that someone had warned him that trial narratives are notoriously tricky, almost always ending up dull and uninspired, a trap that Pomerantz doesn’t manage to avoid.)
So he decides to add a second storyline, also revolving around a married couple – the famous bridge partnership of Josephine and Ely Culbertson. He tracks their rise to fame as bridge’s pre-eminent couple, Ely’s obsessive quest to prove his bidding method superior to all others, and to obtain complete domination in the area of teaching methods and punditry. This story also has a famous bridge game at its center – more specifically, a 5-week challenge tournament in which Ely and Jo took on (and trounced) the best of the bridge establishment, thereby sealing dominance of the Culbertson “brand”. Sadly, attaining the summit came at the cost of their marriage – Ely’s never-ending pathological need for adulation and ever-more outrageous delusions of grandeur proved too much for Jo, who began to develop a serious drinking problem. They divorced in 1937.
Pomerantz’s account of these two couple’s stories is workmanlike, but no more than that. As I already mentioned, he is not successful in making the trial scenes interesting. Spreading the trial account over three separate chapters, with other material interspersed, seems like nothing more than a desperate attempt to generate some fake suspense. Gossipy digressions about the private life of the defending attorney add nothing to the overall story and are little more than padding.
At about the three-quarter mark in the book I thought I had it figured – a somewhat pedestrian, but not completely uninteresting, account, organized around a central conceit that didn’t quite gel. But then things took a distinct turn for the worse, dropping the author several notches in my esteem. The final 50 pages of the book are given over to what the author grandiosely terms “The Search”, in which he takes it upon himself to track down what he appears to consider loose ends. In the process, he sheds any semblance of objective reporting and makes it clear that he has no qualms about violating the privacy of the dead, or engaging in posthumous speculation on the motives of those who can no longer speak for themselves. Thus, for instance, it takes no more than a walk through the apartment where Bennett died to inspire the following:
“Now, walking through the apartment, I see and feel and know that Byrd Rice’s story about the explosive moment is the way it must have happened” (there follows a detailed two-page account of ‘events’, presented as truth, despite being nothing more than a highly selective interpretation of the evidence). This is the “appeal to divine revelation as source of reportorial authority” gambit, which Pomerantz appears to consider sufficient to overturn the trial decision and declare his own guilty verdict on Myrtle. Given this willingness to leap to judgement, I found his rummaging through the details of her life for the remaining 61 years after she was found not guilty by the jury, including poking into the details of her will and cheap speculation as to her motives, distinctly unsavory. What should one make, for instance, of the author’s obvious relish at tracking down, years after Myrtle’s death, one of her co-workers at New York’s Carlyle Hotel, a man who had worked with her for fifteen years without knowing her past, then feeding the man file folders with every salacious headline about the 70-year old scandal. It is obvious that Michael O’ Connell, the co-worker in question, did not appreciate this revealing of information that his friend had wanted to keep confidential.
Truth is an elusive commodity, and expecting to find it in a work of non-fiction is probably the height of naivete. In the unsavory final section of this book, Gary M. Pomerantz reveals himself as a writer whose every sentence should be taken with a very large grain of salt.
Though intermittently entertaining, this book left a very bad taste in my mouth. Give it a miss.
December 16, 2019
I liked the part where I still don't know how to play bridge at the end.
July 15, 2010
This book reminded me of the style popularized by Erik Larson(Thunderstruck)..........the tying together of two discrete events and their effect on each other. In this case, it is the craze for contract bridge and a murder over the bridge table which became a cause celebre during the early 1930s. This is a gossipy book which delves into the lives of (1) the murderer/victim and (2) Ely and Jo Culbertson who developed the famous (at the time) "Culbertson system" of bidding a bridge hand.
This is one of those books you take to the beach for a day and enjoy for what it is.........a slight, but interesting history of people who are forgotten today but were the center of public interest in their time.
This is one of those books you take to the beach for a day and enjoy for what it is.........a slight, but interesting history of people who are forgotten today but were the center of public interest in their time.
March 22, 2010
Nothing like a murder to sex up the topic of bridge, a card game that many of us associate with dreary suburban evenings with four couples arrayed around fold-out card tables in the living room, all the culmination of days of anxious preparation ("Don't forget to vacuum! And dust!"), topped off by the all-important ceremony of putting out cashews and chocolate kisses in little for-bridge-only dishes.
So much more of a shock to discover then, thanks to Bay Area writer Gary Pomerantz's stylish sleuthing in "The Devil's Tickets," that murder and sexing up the topic of bridge played a prominent role in its history. In fact, thanks to a hustling, neurotic half-Russian visionary named Ely Culbertson, murder and sexing up helped vault contract bridge from newfangled cousin of the old game of whist to a national sensation so widespread that Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, the Marx Brothers and Winston Churchill were all in on it.
Some of Pomerantz's best work here lies in his imaginative obsession with the fate of a woman named Myrtle Bennett, something of a blond bombshell with a Memphis accent and the kind of look in her eye that tells you she's used to getting what she wants. Myrtle as a young woman spotted a man she liked on a train, and decided then and there that he should marry her, then went to work on making it happen. Not to knock meeting people on trains, but: It didn't work out so well for Myrtle.
The glam couple live in Kansas City. She's now married to Jack Bennett, the man on the train, a traveling salesman hawking (you can't make this stuff up) French perfume, and living in a somewhat ostentatious apartment in a chic neighborhood and playing lots of contract bridge. Based on the photograph reproduced here of Jack, he looks more Willy Loman than Don Juan - sad and a little ridiculous more than dashing and a hit with women everywhere, but Pomerantz makes him sound like quite the dude in his day. Myrtle gets more and more jealous, sitting at home and wondering what he's up to away from home, and finds letters that prove that he's cheating.
Where the story gets really fascinating is when it becomes clear over a drink-fueled night of bridge at home with a neighbor couple that Jack pretty much is awful as a bridge player, at least compared with Myrtle, a solid player. He screws up a hand, she calls him on his stupidity - and he slaps her, hard. Then, in a twist that would seem hokey in a pulp fiction novel, only this is no novel, Jack demands that Myrtle go fetch his gun - because he's leaving for the night and wants to take it with him, and Myrtle and her mother can fend for themselves.
So of course she shoots the guy. Bam, bam, you're dead. The murder becomes a sensation, and in New York the scheming, appalling Culbertson, editor of a new bridge publication, does his best to whip up the murder into a national sensation that highlights the sexual undercurrents that, he believed, made bridge so exciting.
Pomerantz, whose work I've admired since coming across it in Daily Californian bound volumes a couple of decades ago, does a virtuoso job of evoking the era and the elite bridge circle ultimately shaken up by Culbertson and his wife-to-be, Josephine, again a better player than her husband and probably the most intriguing character in the book.
Culbertson comes across as no one you would ever want to know, but he's fascinating in his bid to sell bridge and make millions by pitching it to women. "He would make three basic appeals: to the ego, to fear, and to sex," Pomerantz writes.
Still, my favorite part came when Pomerantz puts himself into the story and reveals how deeply he was moved by this narrative - and to what lengths he went to try to track down Myrtle, who had basically gone underground, or so it seemed, not long after the trial. I won't give away how it all worked out, but Pomerantz fills in the blanks in a fascinating, even haunting, way and makes you glad you have gotten to know Myrtle. There are a lot of sad tales here, as the crazed Culbertson and his wife divorce and go on to years of unhappiness, but Myrtle somehow transcends her dark past, though never leaving it behind, as her final act makes clear.
So much more of a shock to discover then, thanks to Bay Area writer Gary Pomerantz's stylish sleuthing in "The Devil's Tickets," that murder and sexing up the topic of bridge played a prominent role in its history. In fact, thanks to a hustling, neurotic half-Russian visionary named Ely Culbertson, murder and sexing up helped vault contract bridge from newfangled cousin of the old game of whist to a national sensation so widespread that Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig, the Marx Brothers and Winston Churchill were all in on it.
Some of Pomerantz's best work here lies in his imaginative obsession with the fate of a woman named Myrtle Bennett, something of a blond bombshell with a Memphis accent and the kind of look in her eye that tells you she's used to getting what she wants. Myrtle as a young woman spotted a man she liked on a train, and decided then and there that he should marry her, then went to work on making it happen. Not to knock meeting people on trains, but: It didn't work out so well for Myrtle.
The glam couple live in Kansas City. She's now married to Jack Bennett, the man on the train, a traveling salesman hawking (you can't make this stuff up) French perfume, and living in a somewhat ostentatious apartment in a chic neighborhood and playing lots of contract bridge. Based on the photograph reproduced here of Jack, he looks more Willy Loman than Don Juan - sad and a little ridiculous more than dashing and a hit with women everywhere, but Pomerantz makes him sound like quite the dude in his day. Myrtle gets more and more jealous, sitting at home and wondering what he's up to away from home, and finds letters that prove that he's cheating.
Where the story gets really fascinating is when it becomes clear over a drink-fueled night of bridge at home with a neighbor couple that Jack pretty much is awful as a bridge player, at least compared with Myrtle, a solid player. He screws up a hand, she calls him on his stupidity - and he slaps her, hard. Then, in a twist that would seem hokey in a pulp fiction novel, only this is no novel, Jack demands that Myrtle go fetch his gun - because he's leaving for the night and wants to take it with him, and Myrtle and her mother can fend for themselves.
So of course she shoots the guy. Bam, bam, you're dead. The murder becomes a sensation, and in New York the scheming, appalling Culbertson, editor of a new bridge publication, does his best to whip up the murder into a national sensation that highlights the sexual undercurrents that, he believed, made bridge so exciting.
Pomerantz, whose work I've admired since coming across it in Daily Californian bound volumes a couple of decades ago, does a virtuoso job of evoking the era and the elite bridge circle ultimately shaken up by Culbertson and his wife-to-be, Josephine, again a better player than her husband and probably the most intriguing character in the book.
Culbertson comes across as no one you would ever want to know, but he's fascinating in his bid to sell bridge and make millions by pitching it to women. "He would make three basic appeals: to the ego, to fear, and to sex," Pomerantz writes.
Still, my favorite part came when Pomerantz puts himself into the story and reveals how deeply he was moved by this narrative - and to what lengths he went to try to track down Myrtle, who had basically gone underground, or so it seemed, not long after the trial. I won't give away how it all worked out, but Pomerantz fills in the blanks in a fascinating, even haunting, way and makes you glad you have gotten to know Myrtle. There are a lot of sad tales here, as the crazed Culbertson and his wife divorce and go on to years of unhappiness, but Myrtle somehow transcends her dark past, though never leaving it behind, as her final act makes clear.
April 11, 2021
Gary Pomerantz tries to tie a husband-killing in Kansas City by the wife to a badly bid hand at a "friendly" game of bridge in 1929. Pomerantz delves into the contract bridge rage that seemed to take over both the US and the UK in the 1920's. All segments of society took to the game and such bridge luminaries as Americans Ely and Josephine Culbertson (he was actually half-Russian), Sidney Lenz, Oswald Jacoby made themselves famous and prosperous by exploiting their knowledge of the game. Books, magazines, and newspaper articles were written by these experts in the 20's and 30's, as the bridge fashion went from auction to contract styles of play. (I'm a non-bridge player so a few of the terms are shaky.) Multi-day tournaments were held in NYC and London to determine the best players and systems.
Back, though, to the Bennett murder case in Kansas City in 1929. Myrtle and Jack Bennett were playing bridge with their friends and neighbors, the Hofmans. Jack Bennett either bid or played his hand badly (Myrtle was "dummy"), they quarreled, and Myrtle shot him four times (two misses, two direct hits) with a hand gun kept in their apartment. The press turned the otherwise prosaic murder into "The Bridge Murder" and bridge mavens world-wide waded in with their ideas on the case. Ely Culbertson wrote extensively about the murder in his magazine. The ten day trial in Kansas City in 1931 was front-page news all over the US. (You'll have to read the book to see how the trial turned out.)
BUT, did Mrs Bennett murder Mr Bennett over a misplayed hand at bridge? I don't really think so. Mr Bennett had not been the most loyal of husbands and, in addition, was known to slap the little lady around a bit. If she hadn't been motivated to shoot her errant hubby before the fatal bridge game, she probably would have shot him some time. The bridge hand may have been the catalyst at that point, but something, some handkerchief smelling of another woman's perfume found in hubby's pocket or the perennial favorite - lipstick on the collar - would have set Myrtle Bennett off.
Anyway, Pomerantz writes an engaging book about the tenor of the times, filled with outsized personalities and situations.
Back, though, to the Bennett murder case in Kansas City in 1929. Myrtle and Jack Bennett were playing bridge with their friends and neighbors, the Hofmans. Jack Bennett either bid or played his hand badly (Myrtle was "dummy"), they quarreled, and Myrtle shot him four times (two misses, two direct hits) with a hand gun kept in their apartment. The press turned the otherwise prosaic murder into "The Bridge Murder" and bridge mavens world-wide waded in with their ideas on the case. Ely Culbertson wrote extensively about the murder in his magazine. The ten day trial in Kansas City in 1931 was front-page news all over the US. (You'll have to read the book to see how the trial turned out.)
BUT, did Mrs Bennett murder Mr Bennett over a misplayed hand at bridge? I don't really think so. Mr Bennett had not been the most loyal of husbands and, in addition, was known to slap the little lady around a bit. If she hadn't been motivated to shoot her errant hubby before the fatal bridge game, she probably would have shot him some time. The bridge hand may have been the catalyst at that point, but something, some handkerchief smelling of another woman's perfume found in hubby's pocket or the perennial favorite - lipstick on the collar - would have set Myrtle Bennett off.
Anyway, Pomerantz writes an engaging book about the tenor of the times, filled with outsized personalities and situations.
September 29, 2009
Despite laudatory comments from a few better-known authors (praise-for-hire, apparently), this was not actually "beautifully written" or "compelling". In fact is was a somewhat overblown, unnecessarily lengthy telling of a story with not nearly as much substance as promised. This writer's penchant for using exclamation points within parenthetical statements is alarming (it really is!). I finished it, appropriately enough, multi-tasking in my bathroom.
October 5, 2010
This book gave me insights into an earlier America, along with one of its biggest passions. (Or was it all a giant fad?) Several of the characters were interesting, and provided decent fodder for last night's book group discussion. My biggest criticism was the writing, which I thought ranged from pedestrian to downright clumsy.
June 29, 2018
Gary Pomerantz tries to tie a husband-killing in Kansas City by the wife to a badly bid hand at a "friendly" game of bridge in 1929. Pomerantz delves into the contract bridge rage that seemed to take over both the US and the UK in the 1920's. All segments of society took to the game and such bridge luminaries as Americans Ely and Josephine Culbertson (he was actually half-Russian), Sidney Lenz, Oswald Jacoby made themselves famous and prosperous by exploiting their knowledge of the game. Books, magazines, and newspaper articles were written by these experts in the 20's and 30's, as the bridge fashion went from auction to contract styles of play. (I'm a non-bridge player so a few of the terms are shaky.) Multi-day tournaments were held in NYC and London to determine the best players and systems.
Back, though, to the Bennett murder case in Kansas City in 1929. Myrtle and Jack Bennett were playing bridge with their friends and neighbors, the Hofmans. Jack Bennett either bid or played his hand badly (Myrtle was "dummy"), they quarreled, and Myrtle shot him four times (two misses, two direct hits) with a hand gun kept in their apartment. The press turned the otherwise prosaic murder into "The Bridge Murder" and bridge mavens world-wide waded in with their ideas on the case. Ely Culbertson wrote extensively about the murder in his magazine. The ten day trial in Kansas City in 1931 was front-page news all over the US. (You'll have to read the book to see how the trial turned out.)
BUT, did Mrs Bennett murder Mr Bennett over a misplayed hand at bridge? I don't really think so. Mr Bennett had not been the most loyal of husbands and, in addition, was known to slap the little lady around a bit. If she hadn't been motivated to shoot her errant hubby before the fatal bridge game, she probably would have shot him some time. The bridge hand may have been the catalyst at that point, but something, some handkerchief smelling of another woman's perfume found in hubby's pocket or the perennial favorite - lipstick on the collar - would have set Myrtle Bennett off.
Anyway, Pomerantz writes an engaging book about the tenor of the times, filled with outsized personalities and situations.
Back, though, to the Bennett murder case in Kansas City in 1929. Myrtle and Jack Bennett were playing bridge with their friends and neighbors, the Hofmans. Jack Bennett either bid or played his hand badly (Myrtle was "dummy"), they quarreled, and Myrtle shot him four times (two misses, two direct hits) with a hand gun kept in their apartment. The press turned the otherwise prosaic murder into "The Bridge Murder" and bridge mavens world-wide waded in with their ideas on the case. Ely Culbertson wrote extensively about the murder in his magazine. The ten day trial in Kansas City in 1931 was front-page news all over the US. (You'll have to read the book to see how the trial turned out.)
BUT, did Mrs Bennett murder Mr Bennett over a misplayed hand at bridge? I don't really think so. Mr Bennett had not been the most loyal of husbands and, in addition, was known to slap the little lady around a bit. If she hadn't been motivated to shoot her errant hubby before the fatal bridge game, she probably would have shot him some time. The bridge hand may have been the catalyst at that point, but something, some handkerchief smelling of another woman's perfume found in hubby's pocket or the perennial favorite - lipstick on the collar - would have set Myrtle Bennett off.
Anyway, Pomerantz writes an engaging book about the tenor of the times, filled with outsized personalities and situations.
October 11, 2021
Yes, it’s true crime, well done and readable. Yes, it’s loaded with bridge terms, strategies and endless ephemera. No, you don’t have to know bridge to enjoy it, but I believe it’d help. There’s a detailed description of how the game works and its terms at the back of the book, but I wasn’t perceptive enough to discover it ‘til I was done with the book. Don’t be like me, find the section and refer to it as needed. All that being said, I liked this a lot and recommend it for the great characters and all their Roaring 20s shenanigans, along with the stark contrast between the Depression woes across the country and the free-spending ways of some profligate bridge titans.
December 20, 2021
Absolutely fascinating! Well researched and written, “The Devil’s Tickets” will satisfy both crime buffs and aspiring and actual bridge players.
I always enjoy the backstory of a person’s life or an event. Here, author and journalist Gary Pomerantz went the extra mile and tracked down descendants and other relatives of the protagonists to find out what happened to them after their moments in the spotlight.
I always enjoy the backstory of a person’s life or an event. Here, author and journalist Gary Pomerantz went the extra mile and tracked down descendants and other relatives of the protagonists to find out what happened to them after their moments in the spotlight.
January 20, 2018
In the Devil’s Ticket, author Gary Pomerantz follows two threads from the history of the bridge game. One is the life of Eli Culbertson, a popular promoter of himself and bridge, along with his wife Jo. The second is the murder of John Bennett by his wife Myrtle after a bridge game. The Culbertson and Bennett stories were big during the depression, a time when bridge was very popular.
Culbertson was a shameless promoter. He created his own style of bridge bidding and challenged other high profile bridge players to competitions. He would usually win to prove that his system was best. These challenges received newspaper and radio attention and promoted Culbertson’s books which became best sellers.
At about the same time, John and Myrtle Bennett got into an argument when John did not make a bridge contract while they were playing a presumably friendly game with neighbors. Myrtle said that John should have made his contract and he slapped her face. He left the table and began to pack his bag to either leave her or to leave for his sales trip early. She shot him. Her attorney said it was accidental and insisted that Myrtle was a battered wife. Major newspapers covered Myrtle’s trial. She was defended by James Reed, a former U. S. Senator who wanted to run for president.
I was familiar with both of these stories, but this book provided detail that was new to me. For instance, Pomerantz introduces the reader to an in depth look at James Reed who is an interesting character. It was unusual for him to take on such a relatively minor case, but he understood the possibility of getting good press from it. Pomerantz follows both Bennett’s life after the trial and Culbertson’s after his bridge popularity fizzles. These extensions of the basic story that I remembered, added interesting depth to this book. I liked them.
The two stories are hard to tie together. Pomerantz alternates between them. They occur during the same time period and Culbertson’s magazine, Bridge World, mentions the Bennett murder. Both Bennett and Culbertson were big names in bridge for a year and most everyday players were aware of them.
Pomerantz tries to make the point that it is difficult for husbands and wives to be bridge partners. Eli always said that Jo was his favorite and best partner, but Jo was stressed by Eli’s antics and the pressure of the game. James Bennett might have lived a long life if he did not play bridge with his wife or if either partner was less aggressive with the other.
According to Pomerantz, the puritans, who did not like playing cards, called them the devil’s tickets. Thus the book’s title.
Truth be told, I play duplicate bridge with my husband. I agree that it can be tough to play with your spouse when the game does not go well. On the other hand, I understand my husband’s bidding much more than the bidding of other partners.
My son gifted me with this book. Thank you.
Rating: 4-
Culbertson was a shameless promoter. He created his own style of bridge bidding and challenged other high profile bridge players to competitions. He would usually win to prove that his system was best. These challenges received newspaper and radio attention and promoted Culbertson’s books which became best sellers.
At about the same time, John and Myrtle Bennett got into an argument when John did not make a bridge contract while they were playing a presumably friendly game with neighbors. Myrtle said that John should have made his contract and he slapped her face. He left the table and began to pack his bag to either leave her or to leave for his sales trip early. She shot him. Her attorney said it was accidental and insisted that Myrtle was a battered wife. Major newspapers covered Myrtle’s trial. She was defended by James Reed, a former U. S. Senator who wanted to run for president.
I was familiar with both of these stories, but this book provided detail that was new to me. For instance, Pomerantz introduces the reader to an in depth look at James Reed who is an interesting character. It was unusual for him to take on such a relatively minor case, but he understood the possibility of getting good press from it. Pomerantz follows both Bennett’s life after the trial and Culbertson’s after his bridge popularity fizzles. These extensions of the basic story that I remembered, added interesting depth to this book. I liked them.
The two stories are hard to tie together. Pomerantz alternates between them. They occur during the same time period and Culbertson’s magazine, Bridge World, mentions the Bennett murder. Both Bennett and Culbertson were big names in bridge for a year and most everyday players were aware of them.
Pomerantz tries to make the point that it is difficult for husbands and wives to be bridge partners. Eli always said that Jo was his favorite and best partner, but Jo was stressed by Eli’s antics and the pressure of the game. James Bennett might have lived a long life if he did not play bridge with his wife or if either partner was less aggressive with the other.
According to Pomerantz, the puritans, who did not like playing cards, called them the devil’s tickets. Thus the book’s title.
Truth be told, I play duplicate bridge with my husband. I agree that it can be tough to play with your spouse when the game does not go well. On the other hand, I understand my husband’s bidding much more than the bidding of other partners.
My son gifted me with this book. Thank you.
Rating: 4-
December 4, 2018
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1929, Kansas City: Myrtle and Jack Bennett invite another couple over to play Bridge for the evening. During the competitive game, Myrtle grumbles that Jack is lousy player, and he slaps her and announces that he's leaving. Moments later, Myrtle shoots and kills her husband. Subsequently, Myrtle Bennett is put on trial for the murder of Jack and is represented by onetime presidential candidate, James A. Reed.
I won The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age by Gary M. Pomerantz in Goodreads.com's First Reads Giveaway. Entering the giveaway because I thought the book sounded intriguing, I was ecstatic when I found out that I actually won a copy of the book.
However, it was a different story once I sat down to actually read the book. Although I don't read a lot of non-fiction, I do enjoy a well written account of events that happened in the past. This was not one of those books . . . it read like a text book. Painfully boring best describes The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age.
Knowing that the murder took place over a bridge game going into the book, I expected that there would be a bit of background about the game. However, I didn't expect it to go into such detail about it and Ely Culbertson, a Russian who made it an "ultimate battle of wits between men and women" and not such a trivial game. It felt like there wasn't enough information about the murder and the trial to actually write a book without heavily talking about Culbertson.
What I did find interesting was that James A. Reed represented Myrtle Bennett. He was a senator, attorney, and at one time was the Democratic Presidential Candidate. He was friends with William Randolph Hearst and represented Henry Ford. It seems odd to me that someone who ran with such wealthy, well known people would get involved in this case. However, it did make me want to learn more about him, but I have yet to see if there are any biographies out there about him.
Unfortunately, I would not recommend The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age to anyone. I gave it one out of five stars on Goodreads.com.
To see more book reviews, visit us at www.therunningbibliophile.com?utm_sou...
1929, Kansas City: Myrtle and Jack Bennett invite another couple over to play Bridge for the evening. During the competitive game, Myrtle grumbles that Jack is lousy player, and he slaps her and announces that he's leaving. Moments later, Myrtle shoots and kills her husband. Subsequently, Myrtle Bennett is put on trial for the murder of Jack and is represented by onetime presidential candidate, James A. Reed.
I won The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age by Gary M. Pomerantz in Goodreads.com's First Reads Giveaway. Entering the giveaway because I thought the book sounded intriguing, I was ecstatic when I found out that I actually won a copy of the book.
However, it was a different story once I sat down to actually read the book. Although I don't read a lot of non-fiction, I do enjoy a well written account of events that happened in the past. This was not one of those books . . . it read like a text book. Painfully boring best describes The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age.
Knowing that the murder took place over a bridge game going into the book, I expected that there would be a bit of background about the game. However, I didn't expect it to go into such detail about it and Ely Culbertson, a Russian who made it an "ultimate battle of wits between men and women" and not such a trivial game. It felt like there wasn't enough information about the murder and the trial to actually write a book without heavily talking about Culbertson.
What I did find interesting was that James A. Reed represented Myrtle Bennett. He was a senator, attorney, and at one time was the Democratic Presidential Candidate. He was friends with William Randolph Hearst and represented Henry Ford. It seems odd to me that someone who ran with such wealthy, well known people would get involved in this case. However, it did make me want to learn more about him, but I have yet to see if there are any biographies out there about him.
Unfortunately, I would not recommend The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age to anyone. I gave it one out of five stars on Goodreads.com.
To see more book reviews, visit us at www.therunningbibliophile.com?utm_sou...
March 19, 2011
Fascinating tale and a cautionary one for those who play bridge with their spouses.
One night it got out of hand. One of the players was not quite as good at the game as his spouse. And the gun went off as guns are wont to do.
There was apparently great analysis at the time of the actual bridge hand and what should have been bid and what should have been played.
Interesting history of bridge.
I actually started reading this in a hardcover, but then I thought that my mother might like to read it, being as she is an actual bridge player. So I gave her that copy and downloaded it on to my kindle. As of Christmas, she was still reading it. It is a book I know my father would have enjoyed, as he was a bridge player too and sometimes his partner was not quite holding up her end of the hand.
I was actually thinking about 3 1/2 stars for this. The first part of the book (or maybe it is the first two parts) were really good. The story of bridge and what a craze it was in the post-World War I era and the story of the fatal hand and its aftermath. Where I felt the book went off kilter was in the last portion of the book where the author is putting himself in the story by tracking variouse people in the book down. I didn't need that. And I didn't want that. I didn't care what happened to them. They played their big scene and had left the stage. I don't care what they are doing in the wings as they are making their final exits from existence.
Great way to ruin a book, dude. Okay, it wasn't ruined but it wasn't helped, either.
One night it got out of hand. One of the players was not quite as good at the game as his spouse. And the gun went off as guns are wont to do.
There was apparently great analysis at the time of the actual bridge hand and what should have been bid and what should have been played.
Interesting history of bridge.
I actually started reading this in a hardcover, but then I thought that my mother might like to read it, being as she is an actual bridge player. So I gave her that copy and downloaded it on to my kindle. As of Christmas, she was still reading it. It is a book I know my father would have enjoyed, as he was a bridge player too and sometimes his partner was not quite holding up her end of the hand.
I was actually thinking about 3 1/2 stars for this. The first part of the book (or maybe it is the first two parts) were really good. The story of bridge and what a craze it was in the post-World War I era and the story of the fatal hand and its aftermath. Where I felt the book went off kilter was in the last portion of the book where the author is putting himself in the story by tracking variouse people in the book down. I didn't need that. And I didn't want that. I didn't care what happened to them. They played their big scene and had left the stage. I don't care what they are doing in the wings as they are making their final exits from existence.
Great way to ruin a book, dude. Okay, it wasn't ruined but it wasn't helped, either.
May 22, 2018
My father & my grandparents were HUGE Bridge players back in their day--it has seemed to skip a generation w/ me though--so finding out more about the history of the game was interesting. Tying this history to a murder during the hight of its popularity, now you're talking.
This is the dual story of Ely Culbertson, who was the PT Barnum of contract Bridge, and the murder of Jack Bennett by his wife Myrtle, which Ely used unapologetically to build his Bridge empire. It's set in Kansas City (where the murder takes place) and New York City (where Ely is scratching his way to the top of the Bridge world). We meet all sorts of people on the periphery, who have their own dilemmas they are working through too. No one comes out unscathed.
I also enjoyed the latter quarter of the book. It acted as a where-are-they-now / walk-a-mile-in-their-shoes section, where the author goes to the places that played so prominently in this book, hunts down and fires the type of gun Myrtle used to kill her husband, and finds out what happened after the empire fell & the courtroom cleared. I've rarely seen this done in book form, and I for one, was grateful for it.
This is the dual story of Ely Culbertson, who was the PT Barnum of contract Bridge, and the murder of Jack Bennett by his wife Myrtle, which Ely used unapologetically to build his Bridge empire. It's set in Kansas City (where the murder takes place) and New York City (where Ely is scratching his way to the top of the Bridge world). We meet all sorts of people on the periphery, who have their own dilemmas they are working through too. No one comes out unscathed.
I also enjoyed the latter quarter of the book. It acted as a where-are-they-now / walk-a-mile-in-their-shoes section, where the author goes to the places that played so prominently in this book, hunts down and fires the type of gun Myrtle used to kill her husband, and finds out what happened after the empire fell & the courtroom cleared. I've rarely seen this done in book form, and I for one, was grateful for it.
August 2, 2018
Rating: 3.5
In the style of The Devil in the White City, Gary Pomerantz tells two linked stories, connected by the common element of contract bridge. The lead tale is a murder and subsequent trial, the murder arising following a particularly bad hand of bridge, followed by an episode of spousal abuse. Myrtle Bennet shot her husband Jack on September 29, 1929, after he blew a four spade bid, she called him a bad player, and he hit her in front of friends. At trial her defense attorney was former Missouri senator James Reed. The book catalogues the history of the marriage and, in detail, the trial. Needless to say, the bad bridge play was not the only problem the Bennetts had. The other story tells of the rise of Ely and Jo Culbertson as bridge experts and champions. Contract bridge was a huge fad in the late 1920s, and a variety of experts battled for the supremacy of their particular bidding a playing system, achieving celebrity status. The Culbertsons were among the most successful, and they were colorful characters. The book is interesting, and no knowledge of the game of bridge is required to enjoy it. Pomereantzz shows flashes of wry humor discussing the culture of the 20s and the attempts of the Culbertsons to make bridge a "sexy" game, but he also sometimes drags out the telling of bit beyond its shelf life. He does a better job with the murder tale, which has a more natural momentum, than in describing a 150-rubber bridge competition -- which sounds deadly.
In the style of The Devil in the White City, Gary Pomerantz tells two linked stories, connected by the common element of contract bridge. The lead tale is a murder and subsequent trial, the murder arising following a particularly bad hand of bridge, followed by an episode of spousal abuse. Myrtle Bennet shot her husband Jack on September 29, 1929, after he blew a four spade bid, she called him a bad player, and he hit her in front of friends. At trial her defense attorney was former Missouri senator James Reed. The book catalogues the history of the marriage and, in detail, the trial. Needless to say, the bad bridge play was not the only problem the Bennetts had. The other story tells of the rise of Ely and Jo Culbertson as bridge experts and champions. Contract bridge was a huge fad in the late 1920s, and a variety of experts battled for the supremacy of their particular bidding a playing system, achieving celebrity status. The Culbertsons were among the most successful, and they were colorful characters. The book is interesting, and no knowledge of the game of bridge is required to enjoy it. Pomereantzz shows flashes of wry humor discussing the culture of the 20s and the attempts of the Culbertsons to make bridge a "sexy" game, but he also sometimes drags out the telling of bit beyond its shelf life. He does a better job with the murder tale, which has a more natural momentum, than in describing a 150-rubber bridge competition -- which sounds deadly.
March 19, 2018
My rating is actually 2.5. In my opinion, Gary Pomerantz should have written two separate books: one about the beginnings of bridge featuring Ely and Jo Culbertson, and another about the shooting of Jack Bennett by his wife Myrtle. I kept thinking that there must be a tie between the Culbertsons and the Bennetts, but alas, there was not. Ultimately, the only common thread between the two couples is bridge, and bridge was such a bit player in the story of the Bennetts that I don't believe it was worth the effort of tying the two together. This was a book club choice...I don't play bridge...so it was going to take a special writer to pique my interest in the history of the game. Unfortunately, this author did not. It was taking me so long to drag through the dry, dry, dry story of Culbertson and bridge that I finally started skipping and skimming for the Bennett story!
As a lifelong Kansas Citian, I found the story of Myrtle and Jack Bennett fascinating and full of familiar KC details! Even if you don't have that frame of reference, the crime and its aftermath are definitely book-worthy. It would have been nice if Pomerantz had focused more on that story. He summarized a lot of the events rather than provide deeper research and character insights. All in all, my reaction of The Devil's Ticket...meh.
As a lifelong Kansas Citian, I found the story of Myrtle and Jack Bennett fascinating and full of familiar KC details! Even if you don't have that frame of reference, the crime and its aftermath are definitely book-worthy. It would have been nice if Pomerantz had focused more on that story. He summarized a lot of the events rather than provide deeper research and character insights. All in all, my reaction of The Devil's Ticket...meh.
July 16, 2018
I think the stories (Culbertson's and the couple's, interwoven) were overblown; but all I know about contract bridge was what I read in E. F. Benson's Mapp and Lucia stories and Agatha Christie's "Cards on the Table". The lady did not kill her husband because of poor card play. That was just the struck match .
It was a light summer read. It was interesting that bridge was one of the fads of the 1920s in America, and that grown men would make money on, and feud over, their particular system of playing and teaching contract bridge. I would have been more interested in the other game fads of the 1920s: Monopoly and crossword puzzles. Of course in those games you are on your own, while in Bridge, you have to control your partner as well as play against your opponents. (Not unlike the war a dozen years later: Eisenhower and Patton or Montgomery or De Gaulle and the American generals, where one had to sit on one's allies' plots to be top general as well as fight the common enemy.) I suppose if I knew how to play bridge, the Culbertson-against-all-comers thread would not have seemed so silly. The Bridge-playing-Wife-of-the-Sexy-Travelling-Salesman thread was all too predictable.
It was a light summer read. It was interesting that bridge was one of the fads of the 1920s in America, and that grown men would make money on, and feud over, their particular system of playing and teaching contract bridge. I would have been more interested in the other game fads of the 1920s: Monopoly and crossword puzzles. Of course in those games you are on your own, while in Bridge, you have to control your partner as well as play against your opponents. (Not unlike the war a dozen years later: Eisenhower and Patton or Montgomery or De Gaulle and the American generals, where one had to sit on one's allies' plots to be top general as well as fight the common enemy.) I suppose if I knew how to play bridge, the Culbertson-against-all-comers thread would not have seemed so silly. The Bridge-playing-Wife-of-the-Sexy-Travelling-Salesman thread was all too predictable.
November 1, 2025
An interesting read. Two factual stories intertwined. In the 1920s, there were many nationwide fads - one was contract bridge.
We are introduced to Ely Culbertson, who was able to transition bridge from a social pastime into a cultural movement that made him rich and famous. Ely played many noteworthy bridge games (one over a period of five weeks (to defend his new bridge systems)), with his favourite bridge partner (his wife Jo), against some of the best bridge players known. The married couple won.
Also in the late 1920s (September 1929), Myrtle Bennett shot and killed her husband Jack, over his misplayed 4 spade contract. The writer takes us through this murder trial, in Kansas City, that had the attention of the whole nation, and the array of characters involved in the trial (one a former Senator, who defended Myrtle).
With both stories, the writer examined the histories of both parties - from before they became known to the end of their lives.
As a bridge player, I found the book an interesting read--the real-life characters and high level bridge games and the development of contract bridge in the world.
We are introduced to Ely Culbertson, who was able to transition bridge from a social pastime into a cultural movement that made him rich and famous. Ely played many noteworthy bridge games (one over a period of five weeks (to defend his new bridge systems)), with his favourite bridge partner (his wife Jo), against some of the best bridge players known. The married couple won.
Also in the late 1920s (September 1929), Myrtle Bennett shot and killed her husband Jack, over his misplayed 4 spade contract. The writer takes us through this murder trial, in Kansas City, that had the attention of the whole nation, and the array of characters involved in the trial (one a former Senator, who defended Myrtle).
With both stories, the writer examined the histories of both parties - from before they became known to the end of their lives.
As a bridge player, I found the book an interesting read--the real-life characters and high level bridge games and the development of contract bridge in the world.
Read
December 6, 2023I don't know the first thing about bridge and I was surprised to discover the complex history behind the game. In the investment business today, you must have familiarity with both Warren Buffett and Bill Gates, and likely their bridge-playing bromance, but who knew all the colorful and eccentric personalities who preceded them?
But my real fascination for this story rises from the rich Kansas City history. I've added the Bennett apartment and James Reed home to my own famous places tour. Ties to the Pendergast machine and Harry Truman were remarkable along with the Indian Hills Country Club, Jackson County Courthouse, and the Nelly Don (Nell Donnelly) empire. The backstory behind the Bennett shooting, trial, and characters is wonderful.
The last section, where the author traces various descendants across Florida, Arkansas, and California is so revealing. Sometimes I claim that my family put the "fun" in dysfunction, but we are mild compared to these stories!
But my real fascination for this story rises from the rich Kansas City history. I've added the Bennett apartment and James Reed home to my own famous places tour. Ties to the Pendergast machine and Harry Truman were remarkable along with the Indian Hills Country Club, Jackson County Courthouse, and the Nelly Don (Nell Donnelly) empire. The backstory behind the Bennett shooting, trial, and characters is wonderful.
The last section, where the author traces various descendants across Florida, Arkansas, and California is so revealing. Sometimes I claim that my family put the "fun" in dysfunction, but we are mild compared to these stories!
September 10, 2018
You don't have to play bridge to read this book, but you'll enjoy it all the more if you do.
"The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age" (phew) tells the history and development of bridge, describes some of the game's most colorful proponents (most notably Ely Culbertson), and recounts an infamous episode in its cultural past: a wife who killed her husband after he failed to make their bid. All in all, it is a very satisfying depiction of an addictive game, wrapped in history and culture,
"The Devil's Tickets: A Vengeful Wife, a Fatal Hand, and a New American Age" (phew) tells the history and development of bridge, describes some of the game's most colorful proponents (most notably Ely Culbertson), and recounts an infamous episode in its cultural past: a wife who killed her husband after he failed to make their bid. All in all, it is a very satisfying depiction of an addictive game, wrapped in history and culture,
August 2, 2017
This book combined three great themes: the game of Bridge, history and a murder. Anyone who enjoys Bridge will certainly find this book intriguing. Keep in mind that it is non-fiction and a murder did take place because of a game of Bridge. Sadly, the game of Bridge is dying out. Hopefully, many will read this and arouse a new interest in learning to play the game.
March 28, 2019
Nonfiction. for fans of Bridge and court room thrillers this is a great read. Gets into some of the history of contract bridge and tells the true story of a husband's murder by his bridge partner wife. Maybe gives some basis for why marital partners should not be bridge partners. Well defined personalities. Lots of court room and outside court room intrigue.a great read
March 14, 2023
I found the historical information of the era interesting and the fact that bridge was such a phenomenon during that time. I also enjoyed the discussion of bridge playing being a bridge player. I did skim a lot of the last quarter of the book when the author tries to find what happened to some of the characters in the book. Didn't think that added anything to the book.
January 9, 2018
Interesting and well-written, giving a good overview of the Bridge craze of the 1920s, and some of the interesting players (Ely and Jo Culbertson, Sen. Sam Reed, Myrtle Bennett).
Certainly not a must read, but it is an enjoyable read.
Certainly not a must read, but it is an enjoyable read.
July 2, 2018
Interesting book!
This book offers a history of the card game bridge as well as narrates the story of Jack Bennett's murder by his wife, Myrtle. I would recommend it to true crime readers.
This book offers a history of the card game bridge as well as narrates the story of Jack Bennett's murder by his wife, Myrtle. I would recommend it to true crime readers.
July 4, 2018
Very interesting true story, and a glimpse into life in the Twenties, including the obsession with contract bridge.
It would take a real bridge player to appreciate the detailed information about the game.
It would take a real bridge player to appreciate the detailed information about the game.
July 9, 2018
After a partner’s fight during a bridge game I swore that I would never play bridge with my husband again. That was 48 years ago - still no bridge games - still married. That is why I was drawn to this story. What a delightful read! Gary Pomerantz brings history to life - as if it were a novel.
July 31, 2018
If you don’t play bridge you probably will have trouble enjoying this book. The book was too textbook-like. Made for a very dry read. I live in the area of Kansas City where a lot of the participants lived, that created some interesting moments, just not enough.
October 27, 2018
This is the most boring, yet confusing, true crime book I have ever read. If the author focused on one relationship, and it's story, it may have been a pleasant read. Read only if one is interested in the minutiae of bridge and has insomnia.
July 29, 2025
As a Kansas Citian , I found the history well described and fascinating. Very well written and entertaining read. I doubt that I will pick up bridge but learning about the general craze helped me understand how so many people got caught up in it.
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