Last night I finally finished
"Flapper" by Joshua Zeitz.
I enjoyed this book a great deal overall, although the final "conclusion" chapter was a little bothersome. I guess the authors of nonfiction books these days are obligated to write a last chapter with latter-day comparisons to try and convince the readers why the book they just read is relevant. I don't care if it's relevant though! Now I want to read more stories by the crappy Scott Fitzgerald, and even more importantly, Lois Long of the "New Yorker" who sounds like a zany obnoxious precursor to
bloggers of today.
After reading it, I went to netflix to try and rent one of the great flapper movies by Colleen Moore and co., and they were nowhere to be found on DVD. I read Colleen Moore's book a few years ago but haven't seen any of her movies. All I remember was her going on and on about her splendid dollhouse. I think "Mantrap" and "Pandora's Box" are the only flapper-related films I've seen.
I want to read a lot more 20s stuff now but I've got a few other books in my queue.
Here's some other ones I read and may as well mention:
7000 Clams by Lee IrbyI got this book from
book thing about 2 years ago. It had a lady in a martini glass on the front and it was 1920s period fiction and I wanted to write a novel myself of dark 1920s period fiction. I wanted to write a book peripherally involving Bix Beiderbecke and some obsessive fan who has a one night stand with him or something. So I thought this book might give me some inspiration. I read half of it on the bus home from New York in 2006. It was kind of lame and corny. I made myself finish it a few months ago and it was still lame and corny. It's about some zany smalltime crook who goes to Florida to try to blackmail Babe Ruth. It also involves his lameass whiny rich girlfriend, a weirdo serial killer, and a feisty broad who seems ok but (spoiler) in the end it turns out she's not on the run because she's an awesome badass but because she witnessed a crime.
1929: A Novel of the Jazz Age by Frederick TurnerI went to return 7000 Clams to bookthing and wandered around there a bit and found this book. What the hell, sweet more period fiction. I read the book-jacket on my walk home. What the hell! Dark 1920's period fiction peripherally involving Bix Beiderbecke. Can this be a genre or did I miss my chance?
Well anyway this book was way better than 7000 clams. More lyrically written yet less cartoony. No weirdo serial killer, yet the book is much more macabre and believable in its depictions of the criminal, sexual and alcoholic antics of its characters.
I still wouldn't say it's a great book. I think any fiction set in the past is just bound to come off pretty cheesy. Incorporation of "real people" is always embarrassing although I must admit he did include a lot of true facts. Problem is I'm going to confuse this book with the facts I read in "Remembering Bix," which was actually an annoying memoir by this guy who knew Bix Beiderbecke. So ultimately I guess I need to read a real biography of Bix to set me back straight.
I have another book about Vaudeville to read, and another piece of fiction entitled "Sunset and Sawdust" about some sassy broad in the 30s. It was on sale at Barnes and Noble. I also have an issue of Cometbus and a book called "Eat The Document", sent to me by a most awesome lady who has been reading my zines and blogs longer than just about anyone. Thanks, maam. Books in the mail rule, everyone send me books I should read.
Labels: books
