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A certain type of person always does this, don’t you think? Latch on to the achievements and sufferings of others. This is the worst kind of pretending. Mailer and his ilk were nothing like the Russian dissidents. They were free to write and shout — and they got rich and famous. And, of course, they were in effective political opposition to Russia’s dissidents, whose aim was to expose and weaken the Soviet system. One aim of Mailer et al. was to bolster and legitimize the Soviet system, or at least advance the notion that it was no worse than America’s free and democratic system. Everything about Mailer’s statement is untrue and obscene — and typical and unsurprising. Now that the Cold War is over, of course, we all admire those Russian dissidents (and some of us even pretend to have been like them). But do you remember when they were poisoners of détente, extremists, and all-around nuisances?
And this reader had more: “I know a gentleman from the Old City of Jerusalem who was once filling in a similar racial-classification form somewhere in the U.S. and was told by an officious official, ‘You, sir, are not Caucasian’ — to which he replied, ‘Of course I am: I’m Armenian!’” (Armenia, of course, being part of the Caucasus).
James derided Cory Booker as “neo-black” (which is cute, I grant you). The James campaign slogan was “The Real Deal” — everyone in Newark knew what it meant, trust me. James said that Booker was a mere tool of the Right, and of whites. (Both men, naturally, are Democrats — but Booker is open to such notions as school choice and non-theft in government.) The New York Sun reproduced a cartoon that the James campaign had purveyed: It showed a factory, at which “neo-black politicos” were being made. In succession were Clarence Thomas, Condoleezza Rice, Colin Powell, and the challenger, Cory Booker. Two white men were in the foreground, chomping cigars and grinning. They were labeled “right-wing foundations.” One was saying to the other, “They’re so popular, we can’t produce them fast enough.” The other was saying, “I hear they always sell out.” James won, of course — but only with 53 percent of the vote, which should give some cause for hope. The entire (white) Democratic establishment in New Jersey was behind him. On the subject of racial politics — intra-black politics — I remember very well a mayoral race in Detroit. It pitted Dennis Archer, who became mayor, against a woman named Sharon McPhail. Now, McPhail was a very, very light-skinned woman — freckles and all. She probably could have passed. And her entire campaign was geared to the idea that Archer — who was infinitely darker than she — wasn’t “black” enough. She talked constantly of Archer’s (alleged) white support (not that such support, even if it had existed, would’ve mattered a lick in Detroit). I thought this was a stunning example of racial politics: that Sharon McPhail should try to out-black Dennis Archer — and get away with it, really. And I always suspected, too, that one reason Archer’s predecessor, Coleman Young, was so aggressive, crude, and racist was that, as a light-skinned man (also with freckles), he was always trying to prove his credentials. No one could “out-black” him. Young may have been the most vilely racist man I ever witnessed — although he has some stiff competition.
A reader writes, “I remember the first time I heard the term ‘PC.’ It was at the VC, sophomore year, when Leslie and I were buying chocolate chips. [“The VC” refers to the Village Corner, a leftist grocery store in Ann Arbor. How can a grocery store be leftist? you ask. Ah, you haven’t spent much time in a university town, I gather. This one wore its leftism on its smock — even to the point of enjoying the different connotations of “VC.”] Nestlé’s cost more but melt better than generic brand. The sales clerk asked if we were sure we wanted those. We said yes, as we were having chocolate fondue. He said he wouldn’t buy them because they weren’t ‘politically correct.’ I said we were eating them, not voting for them. It took several years before I found out that he was alluding to the alleged Third World wrongdoing of the Nestlé Corp.” I’m surprised that the reader hadn’t been indoctrinated in the evils of Nestlé: I had that before I learned what the capital of Michigan was, I think.
“I clearly remember seeing my professor with a big smile as I announced why I was resigning. Since I had barely rehearsed the speech, there were a few stutters and awkward moments. Not my shining moment as a public speaker. You can imagine my surprise when I received an A. My professor noted that my awkward moments had added to the realism of the speech. Of course, I didn’t complain, but years later I was really ticked off. In hindsight, I wish my speech had been one to announce the closing of the arts endowment. I suppose then I would have received a failing grade.”
“Oh, an interesting part of the story I left out: This was in high school. I was 16.”
Let’s hope.
That’s all. That’s all I wanted to say — wanted, basically, to record a couple of names, one on each side.
I must say, I was touched and tickled by that story: Rush on a van; the drivers refusing to drive. Seattle. America.
A reader writes, “This reminds me one of the best parenting movies ever made: Mary Poppins. The mom is so involved with her political activism that she totally ignores her kids. So here comes ol’ Mary, strict and fair and fun and loving — she is the perfect mom, except she is not the mom given to these kids by God; so the whole plot is the transformation of, dare I say, dysfunctional parents — and therefore their children — into the complete family.” I hadn’t thought of it that way; I was only mesmerized, at that age, by Mary’s beauty (and I still am, to be sure). Writes another reader: “Since I am responding to the Anne Martindell item, you might guess that I’ve done a bit of procreating myself. While it is no longer acknowledged that the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world, the truth remains. To two little people, I am a trinity of Jesus, Cindy Crawford, and Einstein. The influence I have! “Yesterday I was sick and forced to stay in bed. My four-year-old daughter brought me my favorite cup and saucer full of milk and a pretty plate of food with a cheery napkin. Perched on my bed she fed me herself and looked on me with great floaty eyes filled with love. “Liberals often cite their motivation in doing what they do as a desire to ‘make the world a better place.’ Done that.” A bit of a tear-jerker, yes, but tears should be jerked now and then, and I love that phrase “floaty eyes.”
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s Norman Mailer still
worth bothering about? Let’s bother about him a little anyway. According
to the New York Sun — the superb new newspaper in this city
— Mailer participated recently in some conference on the Cold War.
And he said — get this — that he and other American writers
in the early days were “like the Russian dissidents.”
