Thomas Mallon

A vodka bottle comes through an interoffice mail chute by mistake and clunks a sozzled reporter on the head–and that’s just the beginning. A satirical farce that reads like a thriller, Bandbox is a hilarious valentine to the New York of 1927.

The title refers to a flashy magazine fighting for its life against a hard-charging competitor, led by a one-time staffer nurtured at its hooch-filled bosom. Nothing’s too low for this ingrate defector, whether it’s bribing an office underling show more to rifle desk drawers, calling in the vice squad, or faking photographs.

That’s the premise, assuming it matters. Throw in a raft of eccentrics adept at stirring up whirlwinds, mobsters, a star-struck young man escaping college in Indiana, an unfortunate encounter with President Coolidge, and you’ve got as tart and heady a Manhattan as served in any speakeasy during Prohibition.

Mallon spices the drink with lovingly researched details that made this transplanted New Yorker sigh with nostalgia: the interior of a subway car, the views from the newest skyscrapers (since become landmarks), the then-famous but now-obscure personalities who appear just within the story’s peripheral vision.

Mallon gratifyingly obliges the dictum that a satirist should push characters' eccentricities to their limit. These include a shy magazine staffer who prefers animals over humans to the point that he believes John Scopes guilty “of at least presumption, since neither God nor nature would ever have allowed the evolution of charming monkeys into terrible men.” Then there’s a researcher, once married to an Italian count, who wouldn’t know an ordinary, everyday fact if it bit her, but can confirm–from experience–the shoe size of Arnold Rothstein, the gangster.

What really makes this cocktail fizz, however, is the prose. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so often over a novel. Consider this offering, about a "writer so virile and hairy-chested, he looked, when his shirt was open, like something he might have just shot. . . on the page, he boiled his sporting and amorous adventures so spare it sometimes seemed he was being paid by the word for what he left out.”

It’s pretty clear who this is, but Mallon drops Hemingway’s name into the book later, as if to pretend otherwise. Wink, wink; nudge, nudge.

Bandbox is good fun and sharp satire, and I suspect that Mallon intended no more than that, which is to his credit. His publisher, however (as publishers do), tries to go further, using the adjective “poignant” on the jacket flap. I didn’t see any poignancy, and I’d be hard-pressed to call any of the characters three-dimensional. But they’re not supposed to be. They’re vehicles for a rollicking, crazy ride, and that’s just fine. Hop aboard. show less

Why, exactly, do people read essays? It is to get new perspectives on old ideas, new ideas on old perspectives, and to just learn new stuff. In general, the exploration of essays is the exploration of ideas. (Far too simplistic, but let’s move on.) So, why do people read essays about writers and writing? Well, in that case it is probably something a little different. If you’re a writer (which I pretend to be), it is to learn insights on how other people approach the craft. Techniques and show more tips aren’t the good parts (“how to’s” are not really that interesting.) It really comes down to mind sets and atmosphere. And, it is also about camaraderie – to understand that people are facing the same issues and, just maybe, approaching this craft in similarly bizarre ways. Finally, why do people read book reviews? Well, all of the previous points apply. But book reviews are much more about opinion than the average essay (or maybe they are more transparent about that opinion.) Really, why do I care what one person (someone who probably doesn’t have the same life approach I do) thinks about a book? That’s why book reviews have to be more than the three or four paragraphs you might find in this venue. They have to present a reason to be compelling, and reason to make you listen to the author.

In this collection, Thomas Mallon does an excellent job of making me care about what he has to say and, maybe more importantly, makes me want to explore the tomes that he praises (and makes me want to avoid the ones he doesn’t). The book is subtitled “Essays on Writers and Writing”, but the focus is much more on books than on writers or writing. Yes, there are essays that delve into writers and writing, but the collection contains many more actual reviews. However, that is the power in the approach that Mallon uses – even in a book review you learn about the writer, the writing, or both. He has made me want to explore books I had either not heard of or had dismissed. Shortly after reading the review of Palimpsest – Gore Vidal’s “autobiography” – I stumbled across it in the used book store and instantly picked it up. Immediately after reading his essay on Siegfried Sassoon I went to the web to find his poems. I’ve started a list of authors whose books I now want to add.

The collection has many good entries and, just as with any collection, some that don’t work. I will say that, as I read through the books, I began longing for some familiarity. (There was a brief respite when he discussed George Plimpton’s book on Truman Capote. While I haven’t read it, at least I knew a little bit about the subject.) In addition, things fall apart occasionally in the sections that are biographical or try to go other directions. (In particular, an essay about going through his father’s cancelled checks to reconstruct that father’s life didn’t work. It was obviously an important exploration for the author, but the note that was being rung went on too long.) But, these excursions into other areas also have some illuminating moments. Some of the essays owe their existence to research Mallon did for his own books, and those illuminations (in particular, some of the information on the Lincoln assassination) are very interesting and entertaining. The few bumps are worth the overall ride. You will see essays that expand your knowledge, give you new perspectives on old thoughts, and make you want to go out and read some more. show less

Having enjoyed Thomas Mallon’s WATERGATE, a piece of historical fiction centering on the 37th President of the United States, I eagerly picked up his FINALE: A HISTORY OF THE REAGAN YEARS to see how he treated the 40th occupant of that office. Again, Mallon mixes fictional characters with real life participants in history, some obscure and some surprising, and centers most of his action around the second half of 1986, a patch of time that included the Reykjavik Summit with Soviet leader show more Mikhail Gorbachev, a hard fought mid-term election with the control of Senate on the line, and the revelation that the Reagan Administration was trading arms for hostages with the Ayatollah in Iran, while secretly funding the Contras, who were waging a guerilla war against the leftist Castro backed government in Nicaragua. Mallon’s book weaves a story that involves many different individuals, some of whom work in the White House, while others vigorously oppose it, and some who just enjoy drifting along in close proximity to power and glamour. Then there are those who observe and see through the facades the mighty and wealthy work so hard to put up.

I thought FINALE didn’t have as strong of narrative as WATERGATE, and maybe that is because the historical events of the latter were so dramatic, and the cast of characters involved so fascinating. But the strong point in FINALE is the way Mallon builds his characters here, both real and fictional, giving them distinctive voices and personalities that may not exactly jibe with the record, but who nevertheless leap off the page for me. Mallon has a great talent for portraying these historical personages not only as they would have liked for us to see them, but then showing us their faults, and allowing the more real person to be seen. The standout in this book for me is his portrayal of Nancy Reagan, the First Lady utterly and obsessively devoted to her “Ronnie,” an insecure woman who uses astrology to try and control a world filled with dangers, seen and unseen, who always believes that the men surrounding her husband in the White House are falling short of doing their best for him, and never forgetting those who hindered her husband’s ambitions, or failed in their efforts on his behalf. Her dependence on astrologer Joan Quigley was kept from the public during the Reagan’s years in the White House, not in the least for how fanatically she believed in it, but also because astrology was anathema to Ronald Reagan’s devoted supporters in the Christian evangelical community, many million strong. Mallon does bring back Richard Nixon in this book, now a disgraced ex-President determined to still wield influence in the waning days of the Cold War, going so far as to have a mole planted in the American delegation to Reykjavik. Pamela Harriman comes off as a sort of anti-Nancy, a woman who knew how to marry well and advance herself, now the widow of Averell Harriman and determined to step out and make herself a power in her own right as a Democratic Party fundraiser. I must admit that I liked the fictional Christopher Hitchens (a friend of Mallon’s) in this book much better than the real life one who went off the deep end after 9/11 and supported the invasion of Iraq, while becoming a militant atheist. Among the other real life personages making appearances in the book are Mikhail Gorbachev, Margaret Thatcher, Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter, Jeanne Kirkpatrick (a darling of neo-cons back in the day), Merv Griffin, Bette Davis, Donald Regan (the tough as nails White House chief of staff who clashed with Nancy); a napping Lillian Gish, George Schultz, Michael Deaver, John Hinckley (who attempted to assassinate Reagan); Bob Dole, Walter and Lee Annenberg, along with a lot of politicians and names from the ‘80s that many readers will have to wiki. I’m surprised there wasn’t an appearance by Sam Donaldson, the abrasive ABC News White House correspondent during the Reagan years, and a frequent foil for the amiable President. Among the fictional characters Mallon invents for his novel is Anne MacMurray, the former wife of a Republican Party power broker (and a money funneler to the Contras) who has become an anti-nuclear activist, an issue that was red hot back in those days, and Anders Little, a lower level member of the National Security Counsel who manages to hitch a ride to Reykivik, and nearly witnesses what might have been the end of the Cold War on one October afternoon but for Reagan’s refusal to abandon his Strategic Defense Initiative. Little is a closeted homosexual in the middle of the AIDS epidemic, working for an administration doing nothing to stem the disease while being supported by a Republican Party not shy about its hostility to anything and anyone suspected of sexual deviancy. Mallon doesn’t hammer the point, but I think he lets his portrayal of the sad fate of Terry Dolan in the book speak for itself. Ronald Reagan is the one character Mallon does not try to get inside, letting the man remain the enigma so many found him to be, a genial front masking a detachment that mystified even those who worked closely with him. The author strongly hints that the Alzheimer’s, which wouldn’t be diagnosed for some years to come, was already lurking in the shadows and peaking out in the last years in the White House.

Mallon is an exceptionally good writer of prose, and gives his story a flow that is easy for the reader to get into, even if one is not too familiar with the politics and personalities of the 1980s. He deftly opens the book on the last day of the 1976 Republican National Convention in Kansas City, setting the stage for what would come later, and then doing a time jump to the middle of Reagan’s second term. One thing Mallon does well that is almost impossible for other authors is to switch the character POV multiple times during a scene. This is called “head hopping,” something all beginning authors are warned against doing, but Mallon pulls it off, though I suspect some readers might be thrown by it.

FINALE was published in 2015 just before the Trump era of American politics commenced, and one thing that struck while reading it was just how stark raving sane everyone sounds in this novel compared to the conversations being had in the White House in real life some three decades and change later. So, if you find the political scene of the present day too depressing and you yearn to party like it’s 1986 again, then pick up this book by all means. show less

The book follows a years-long romance between Tim, an emotional and unsteady young writer, and Hawkins, an older man with an established career. The men showcase two extremes of temperament, with Tim unable to hide his obsession and Hawkins unwilling to indulge him. Each is acutely aware of the risk their affair poses to their social and professional lives.
Both men live and work in Washington D.C. during the McCarthy era. For those uninclined to US politics: A 1950s political era defined by show more the policy and career of Joe McCarthy, a congressman who dedicated his career to eradicating communists (and homosexuals) from American life. People were routinely investigated and ejected from work, school and polite society based on the smallest suspicion. Homosexuality was illegal at this time.

I found neither Tim nor Hawkins particularly likable, but they are interesting all the way through. Tim is particularly compelling, even at his lowest points. I think my favourite part of this novel is the window the author gives us into Tim's struggle with his religion. It's incredibly intimate and the prose draws out a ton of emotional depth. There is some introspection on Hawkins' part but it's handled very differently.
Fellow Travelers may be a tough read for those wanting a more idealistic kind of romance. The relationship dynamic is tumultuous at best, and anyone who has been in a hopelessly one-sided relationship will feel the hurt through the pages.

Readers who come from the TV adaptation may be surprised to find the book is just as much a political thriller as it is a romance. The book is full of side characters, whose diverse and well-written personalities make it relatively easy to keep the names straight. Quite a feat given the number of names dropped in this book. The pages are filled to the brim with historic figures and cultural context. Mallon does a fantastic job illustrating how Capitol Hill bleeds unstoppably into the personal lives of everyone who dares set foot on its steps.

I enjoyed the political content more as the book went on, but it is largely a matter of personal taste. If you like LGBT romance or political history you will like it, if you enjoy both, you'll love it. Younger readers especially may find it dry. However, it's a relatively short book, there is lots to love about it, and skimming isn't a crime.

Highly recommend. show less