Books in Brief: The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book

The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book, by Al Capp (Harper, 120 pp., $3.95). In a way, Al Capp is the H. L. Mencken of our time. Both were regarded as brilliant satirists, great social commentators etc., so long as their targets were those officially approved by the liberals. However, when the climate of the times changed so that the excesses and stupidities of the Left came within their field of fire, both Capp and Mencken became Unpersons, consigned to outer darkness as literary lepers. While Mencken is really dead, Capp has been pretty much buried as well, insofar as the Establishment is concerned—and The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book is a good example why. It is a collection of essays and short pieces, showing, as the author says, “what a treasure trove the Left is for sanctimonious stumblebums and benign balmies.” The satire, in keeping with the nature of the subject, ranges from breezy lampoon to portraits etched in sulfuric acid. Welfare mothers, the concerned clergy, Teddy Kennedy, Lindsay, David Frost and many more go tumbling into that unique mixmaster which is Capp’s sense of humor and emerge the worse for it. Occasionally, perhaps understandably, the pieces are spattered with cloves of bitterness, in addition to bits of overkill here and there, but in general The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book is a funny, biting work. Incidentally, in switching from comic strips to the typewriter, Capp has not lost his Dickensian gift for names (William F. Fowlemouth, the actress Jane Porna and the Reverend Utter Chaos come immediately to mind). With this book, Capp again proves his expertise at turning both bum steers and sacred cows into chopped meat. A word of warning: Since The HBSB is a very pungent smorgasbord, it’s best to sample it piecemeal, a few essays at a time.

JK

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Jack D. Kirwan

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The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book, by Al Capp (Harper, 120 pp., $3.95). In a way, Al Capp is the H. L. Mencken of our time. Both were regarded as brilliant satirists, great social commentators etc., so long as their targets were those officially approved by the liberals. However, when the climate of the times changed so that the excesses and stupidities of the Left came within their field of fire, both Capp and Mencken became Unpersons, consigned to outer darkness as literary lepers. While Mencken is really dead, Capp has been pretty much buried as well, insofar as the Establishment is concerned—and The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book is a good example why. It is a collection of essays and short pieces, showing, as the author says, “what a treasure trove the Left is for sanctimonious stumblebums and benign balmies.” The satire, in keeping with the nature of the subject, ranges from breezy lampoon to portraits etched in sulfuric acid. Welfare mothers, the concerned clergy, Teddy Kennedy, Lindsay, David Frost and many more go tumbling into that unique mixmaster which is Capp’s sense of humor and emerge the worse for it. Occasionally, perhaps understandably, the pieces are spattered with cloves of bitterness, in addition to bits of overkill here and there, but in general The Hardhat’s Bedtime Story Book is a funny, biting work. Incidentally, in switching from comic strips to the typewriter, Capp has not lost his Dickensian gift for names (William F. Fowlemouth, the actress Jane Porna and the Reverend Utter Chaos come immediately to mind). With this book, Capp again proves his expertise at turning both bum steers and sacred cows into chopped meat. A word of warning: Since The HBSB is a very pungent smorgasbord, it’s best to sample it piecemeal, a few essays at a time.