Monday's Reviews Today: Andersen’s Heyday & Acocella’s Criticism

-- Publishers Weekly, 1/5/2007

Sneak peeks at next week's reviews: Spy founder Kurt Andersen delights with his smart Heyday. Set in the 1800s, this simple tale of boy meets girl turns out to be much more; according to our critic, it’s a “true novel of ideas.” New Yorker dance critic Joan Acocella offers quite a few insightful takes on artists and their art in her collection of writings, Twenty-Eight Artists and Two Saints: Essays. Like any great critic, “her passionate and penetrating endorsements of other works make you want to discover their pleasures firsthand.”

Heyday
Kurt Andersen. Random, $26.95 (640p) ISBN 978-0-375-50473-0

This historical novel may surprise readers who know Kurt Andersen as the cofounder of Spy magazine and the author of the wise and acerbic Turn of the Century (1999). It’s set in the mid–19th century, for one thing, and not—at least not ostensibly—about media or celebrity. Benjamin Knowles is a young Englishman infatuated with all things American, including and especially the part-time actress/part-time prostitute Polly Lucking, whom he meets on his first passage to New York. Just as Knowles and Polly are about to go public with their love, Knowles does that boy-thing—i.e., says something stupid—and Polly flees New York. It’s worth getting through the slowish beginning to arrive at the delightful, intelligent last two-thirds of this long novel when Knowles teams up with Polly’s damaged brother, Duff, and family friend Timothy Scaggs, a journalist of sorts, in a trek west in search of the freethinking Ms. Lucking, with a murderer just behind them (it’s a subplot). Andersen’s second novel is more than just a love story or a history lesson (though there are details included that make it clear how much research Andersen did); it’s a true novel of ideas. The group visits a 19th-century health farm/cult, for example, and stumbles into the aftermath of the Civil War. The occasional historical figure—e.g., Charles Darwin—makes an appearance as well. There are shades of T.C. Boyle’s The Road to Wellville, as well as aspirations toward E.L. Doctorow. But in the end, this second novel belongs to Andersen, a tale of bright, rambunctious, aspiring young people. Like them, the book is rowdy, knowing—and wholly American. (Mar.)

Twenty-Eight Artists and Two Saints: Essays
Joan Acocella. Pantheon, $30 (544p) ISBN 978-0-375-42416-8

Acocella is the New Yorker’s dance critic, but dancers and choreographers comprise a minority of the artists featured in this elegant collection of writings mostly from the New Yorker. The dance pieces are literally the center of the book, sandwiched between Acocella’s lucid assessments of writers (and one sculptor, Louise Bourgeois). She has a taste for early 20th-century European, often Jewish novelists who, she says, helped create the modern consciousness in literature: Stefan Zweig, Joseph Roth, Italo Svevo, among others. In featuring these long-forgotten writers, she fulfills what, in a fascinating profile of Susan Sontag, she calls "an essential function of criticism: that of introducing readers to... strange work, things they wouldn’t ordinarily encounter." A particularly affecting look at Mikhail Baryshnikov in 1998 portrays a man long in search of an artistic home who had to find that home, finally, within himself. The essays that follow the dance pieces focus largely on American and British writers (Bellow, Philip Roth, Sybille Bedford). Acocella can flatten a book she dislikes with cool derision ("The less she knows, the more she tells us," Acocella says of Carol Shloss’s biography of Lucia Joyce), but her passionate and penetrating endorsements of other works make you want to discover their pleasures firsthand—the best service a critic can render. (Feb. 6)