Kenneth C. Davis (1)

Why isn’t more attention given to short books? Davis suggests they’re the literature equivalent to stand-up comedian Rodney Dangerfield’s signature line. They get no respect.

LibraryThing colleagues who have perused my reviews know I have a penchant for shorter books. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve critiqued works in the 350-to 500-page tier by suggesting that a word-slashing editor could have dramatically improved the final product. Hence, it’s no surprise that I show more thoroughly enjoyed Davis’ thumbnail summaries of 58 short books — most of them under 200 pages.

Of course, there were some predictable entries (“The Great Gatsby,” “Animal Farm,” “The Stranger,” etc.) There are also a handful of classics I’ve long viewed as over-rated (Sorry, Ernie, “The Old Man and the Sea” was a total slog — even in its brevity).

Although, I wish the author had included more works, his efforts helped me to compile a list of nearly a dozen recommended reads. They include “Sula,” “The Ghost Writer,” “The Lathe of Heaven” and “Agostino.”

While I agree with some who suggest that Davis’ summaries are a bit dry, I loved the book’s user-friendly format. Each entry, organized alphabetically, begins with the first lines of the book, serves up a plot summary, shares details about the author and has a section titled “Why You Should Read it.” Each entry ends with suggestions on what to read next.

Speaking of endings, my time is up. Writing a long review about a tome that touts the virtues of short books would border on hypocrisy. show less

Kenneth C. Davis, far better known for his later Don't Know Much About series of popular-history compilations, proves himself a capable practitioner of original historical research in this study of the rise of the paperback-book industry in America. Published nearly forty years ago, it remains the only book-length history of the subject that I'm aware of. Thankfully, it's a good one.

Two-Bit Culture is, despite its title, first and foremost a history of paperback publishing as a business. Its show more nearly 400 pages of text chronicle the rise and fall of companies, imprints, marketing strategies, and editors. The text is stuffed with names, dates, facts, and figures (press runs, sales figures, cover prices, money paid for reprint rights, and money advanced to authors). For the period the book covers -- the eve of World War II to the first Reagan administration -- the book covers what must be every significant development in the industry. If you want to trace the history of Pocket Books, Ballentine, New American Library, or Avon, this is the book you want. If you want to learn about E. L. Doctorow's early career as an editor, or Ian Ballentine's industry-changing arc through the business, you'll find it here.

Davis doesn't neglect the cultural impact of the paperback, by any means--there are interesting discussions of Dr. Benjamin Spock's Baby and Child Care (the first paperback-original bestseller), the legal battle over publication of an unexpurgated paperback edition of Lady Chatterly's Lover, and the role of paperbacks in bringing the work of African American authors to mass audiences--but his coverage of such issues is scattered rather than sustained. They're well-developed pauses in the central narrative of changing business practices, rather than a parallel narrative of their own.

The book's greatest drawback is Davis's patent lack of respect for paperback originals that -- in his view -- lack seriousness and literary value. Paperbacks are, for Davis, a conduit of getting cheap reprints of "good literature" and serious non-fiction into the hands of the general public. He treats anything short of that mission with disinterest or barely concealed disdain. That high-mindedness leads him to unforced factual errors (having John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee series begin in the mid-50s, rather than 1964), and shallow, unsatisfying treatments of the paperback's role in the evolution of science fiction and hard-boiled mysteries. His treatment of Harlequin and other "category" romances is a few pages long, and every paragraph of it drips with contempt. The paperback original's relationship to pulp magazines, episodic television, and similar forms of genre storytelling go entirely unmentioned.

Two-Bit Culture is unlikely to be bettered as a history of the paperback industry, but after forty years it's long past time for a new, deeper, and less judgemental history of the paperback as a cultural phenomenon. show less

I was tempted to can this as another anachronistic attempt by a leftist to "throw shade" on the Founding Fathers. However, as I read, I found that with very few omissions or bias, Davis simply told THE STORY of these forgotten enslaved people owned by the founding fathers and other prominent figures in American History. The inclusion of direct quotes, if excised from context, are accurate and the primary sources are also well documented originals. As a Historian, I look for inaccuracies and show more inconsistencies, biases, and omission used to further an argument. This has very little of what a Historian would deem a down check. There IS the anachronistic tendency to apply 21st century ethics and morals to an 18th century world but, that can be forgiven given the rich content presented in a reader friendly format that honestly NEEDS to be read. I will assign this to my students if I teach a US history course as it demonstrates some of the very lessons we as Americans MUST learn from our past or be doomed to repeat. Such lessons as treating others how we wish to be treated cannot be mired in hypocrisy or they will lose their credibility to future generations. show less

Wow, this book is long. I mean, it's interesting, but there's so much information covering so vast a scope that reading it is like running a marathon. Each section covers a geographical region such as Africa or Western Europe, with the countries boasting the most well-documented mythologies getting the most treatment, such as Egypt, India, and Greece/Rome. Each section includes a timeline, a "who's who" of gods and goddesses, relevant quotes, and answers to common questions like "was there show more really a Trojan War?" Though many comparisons are made, there is no separate section for Judeo-Christian mythology, having covered it in depth in his other book, Don't Know Much About the Bible. Davis holds nothing back, describing a representative sample of each culture's myths in (often hilarious) detail. For example, I was surprised (and kind of disgusted) by how many creation myths involved excrement and other bodily fluids of the gods, and laughed at the tales of the trickster god's magical penis. The little asides and pop culture references were also often amusing. Though admittedly not meant to be a thorough compendium of mythology (and I would have loved for the "New World" section to have been much longer), it is certainly an excellent start. The writing is very accessible and has made me want to read more of the original myths, particularly the Norse and Egyptian tales. A word of warning, though: once you read the section on Egypt, you will never see the Washington Monument the same way ever again. show less