Literary Los Angeles: Old Money, Oil Money, and The Big Sleep

For several months now I’ve been sitting with The Big Sleep, utterly absorbed in its stylish mischief but without any idea of what I might add to the conversation. It is a novel about which it is almost impossible to say anything new, and indeed the dark-heart-of-Hollywood motif that was still somewhat shocking upon the novel’s publication in 1939 is now the stuff of cliché and beyond cliché, it is the stuff of camp. I loved it, of course, as The Big Sleep is impossible not to love for its tawrdiness, its audacity, and its intelligence, even when that intelligence is dressed up—or down—as tough-guy talk.

On his first visit to the Sternwood mansion, Marlowe says, “A winding driveway dropped down between retaining walls to the open iron gates. Beyond the fence the hill sloped for several miles. On this lower level faint and far off I could just barely see some of the old wooden derricks of the oilfield from which the Sternwoods had made their money. Most of the field was public park now, cleaned up and donated to the city by General Sternwood. But a little of it was still producing in groups of wells pumping five or six barrels a day. The Sternwoods, having moved up the hill, could no longer smell the stale sump water or the oil, but they could still look out of their front windows and see what had made them rich. If they wanted to. I didn’t suppose they would want to.” Continue reading

Literary Los Angeles: Los Angeles Book Club

Sorry I haven’t posted in a long time (I wonder what percentage of total blog posts on earth begin with the phrase “Sorry I haven’t posted in a long time”).  I will plead the excuse of having had an additional baby.  But now that I’m back for good I’d like to announce my idea for an informal*, web-based Los Angeles Book Club.  I’d love to start reading a book about Los Angeles every month, and I’ve love to hear your suggestions for titles.  Noir, of course, must be included, but also literary fiction, non-fiction, poetry, plays, you name it, famous or not, by authors living or dead.  Suggest away!

But, just to get the noir out of our system, let’s start with The Big Sleep.  Everybody, go read The Big Sleep, or re-read it, or try to recall it, or even in the worst case watch the movie and pretend you’ve read it, or watch “The Big Lebowski” and pretend you’ve watched “The Big Sleep,” and we will reconvene in two weeks! with an essay by me and comments and discussion by you all.

*Well, it doesn’t have to be informal.  We could wear top hats.

Literary Los Angeles: Children's Theater, Family History, and the Hollywood Fringe Festival

It’s that time of year again – the Hollywood Fringe Festival, a ten-day live theater festival compromising more than 800 performances and events held in venues throughout Hollywood.  As someone with (as of four weeks ago) two children, I turned my attention this year to the Fringe Family selections.  I also chatted with writer Rick Balian and his friend Judy Bryant about the Fringe entry “Steal Away,” a children’s history of Bryant’s great-great-grand aunt, Harriet Tubman.

Balian was originally commissioned by a theater in New York to write a play about Harriet Tubman that could tour in schools. As part of his research, he met Judy Bryant, one of Tubman’s great-great grandnieces (Tubman had no children of her own).

“When I handed in my outline for the play,” Balian said, “it was as if the artistic director of the theater suddenly realized there were black people in the story. I was told that it was difficult to find black actors because all the good ones were working. The project fell through. But I had all this research! And Harriet was such a big part of my life by then. I wanted to add my voice to hers in order to extend its reach a little. I considered doing a documentary about the Tubman descendants, but then decided that I really wanted to do a play about Harriet.”

Balian approached Melody Brooks, artistic director of New Perspectives Theatre Company, and the play was included in their World Voices program.

I asked Balian what made the story of Harriet Tubman a popular one with children’s media.

“I really don’t know why Harriet’s story is adapted so often for kids,” he says. “It’s certainly got something to do with her perseverance and courage — qualities that parents, teachers, and school boards like to make sure kids get a solid dose of. But Harriet’s life was also filled with violence, abuse, and deprivation. I felt it wouldn’t be honest to overlook those things. And I also wanted to add humor. From what I’ve read, it sure seems that Harriet had a sense of humor.

“The point of this play is not that slavery is wrong. I think that by now we all know that. So I presented other lessons, with slavery as a background. I tried to make Harriet’s struggles relatable to kids. She wasn’t born a superhero. She wasn’t granted special powers by radiation or a yellow sun. She was someone who wanted to make things better. She did what she could. We can all do that.

“My approach to telling Harriet’s story was greatly influenced by talks with my friend Judy Bryant . . . Judy pointed out that no one talks about Harriet’s day-to-day life; that it’s important not to overlook the fact that most of Harriet’s days weren’t spent rescuing people from slavery or doing any of the number of incredible feats that she is famous for. Most of the time, Harriet was helping to provide for her family and loved ones.”

“Steal Away” employs a combination of live actors and puppets, a popular choice in children’s theater.  This allows Balian to expand the number of characters in the play without costly additions to the touring cast, while also softening some of the play’s inherently violent subject matter.

Other than portraying acts of violence on puppets or off-stage, what constraints does a family audience impose?

“The vocabulary has to be adjusted to the age group,” Balian said. But “the biggest challenge now is that there is less entertainment that includes kids and parents. ‘Family entertainment’ is becoming a code word for ‘dropping the kids off to see something while I do something else.’ I feel it’s important to have a shared experience, and that’s something that theater can provide . . . I write for adults and young adults as well as kids. I’ve found that kids and adults often respond to the same things.”

Bryant will be attending some of the Los Angeles performances.  She explains,  “I live in the house where my mother was born. Built around 1901 by her grandfather, Wm H Stewart, Jr. I have many family letters, scrapbooks, documents and photographs which my mother, grandmother and great grandparents had saved. When I moved back in the mid-1980s after living away from home for 30 years, my mother was working on our family tree which she had been doing on and off for years together with other cousins. I became interested and sort of picked up where she left off.

“Nothing that I discovered, but some years later Kate Larson’s research uncovered William Still’s account of the Christmas eve 1854 escape of Tubman’s three brothers who were renamed from Ross to Stewart. Many people never connected the Stewart name to Tubman and assumed she lived alone in Auburn when in fact she was surrounded by family members, including at her death.”

Growing up, Bryant says, “When my mother was a child, she said the family rarely talked about Tubman’s life because it evoked too many painful reminders of a past they were trying to forget. They all succeeded in creating new realities for themselves.”

Those in L.A. can check out “Steal Away” on June 18, 19, 24, and 25; Saturdays at 10:00 a.m. and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. For more on the Hollywood Fringe Festival, head here.

Literary Los Angeles: Children’s Theater, Family History, and the Hollywood Fringe Festival

It’s that time of year again – the Hollywood Fringe Festival, a ten-day live theater festival compromising more than 800 performances and events held in venues throughout Hollywood.  As someone with (as of four weeks ago) two children, I turned my attention this year to the Fringe Family selections.  I also chatted with writer Rick Balian and his friend Judy Bryant about the Fringe entry “Steal Away,” a children’s history of Bryant’s great-great-grand aunt, Harriet Tubman.

Balian was originally commissioned by a theater in New York to write a play about Harriet Tubman that could tour in schools. As part of his research, he met Judy Bryant, one of Tubman’s great-great grandnieces (Tubman had no children of her own).

“When I handed in my outline for the play,” Balian said, “it was as if the artistic director of the theater suddenly realized there were black people in the story. I was told that it was difficult to find black actors because all the good ones were working. The project fell through. But I had all this research! And Harriet was such a big part of my life by then. I wanted to add my voice to hers in order to extend its reach a little. I considered doing a documentary about the Tubman descendants, but then decided that I really wanted to do a play about Harriet.”

Balian approached Melody Brooks, artistic director of New Perspectives Theatre Company, and the play was included in their World Voices program.

I asked Balian what made the story of Harriet Tubman a popular one with children’s media.

“I really don’t know why Harriet’s story is adapted so often for kids,” he says. “It’s certainly got something to do with her perseverance and courage — qualities that parents, teachers, and school boards like to make sure kids get a solid dose of. But Harriet’s life was also filled with violence, abuse, and deprivation. I felt it wouldn’t be honest to overlook those things. And I also wanted to add humor. From what I’ve read, it sure seems that Harriet had a sense of humor.

“The point of this play is not that slavery is wrong. I think that by now we all know that. So I presented other lessons, with slavery as a background. I tried to make Harriet’s struggles relatable to kids. She wasn’t born a superhero. She wasn’t granted special powers by radiation or a yellow sun. She was someone who wanted to make things better. She did what she could. We can all do that.

“My approach to telling Harriet’s story was greatly influenced by talks with my friend Judy Bryant . . . Judy pointed out that no one talks about Harriet’s day-to-day life; that it’s important not to overlook the fact that most of Harriet’s days weren’t spent rescuing people from slavery or doing any of the number of incredible feats that she is famous for. Most of the time, Harriet was helping to provide for her family and loved ones.”

“Steal Away” employs a combination of live actors and puppets, a popular choice in children’s theater.  This allows Balian to expand the number of characters in the play without costly additions to the touring cast, while also softening some of the play’s inherently violent subject matter.

Other than portraying acts of violence on puppets or off-stage, what constraints does a family audience impose?

“The vocabulary has to be adjusted to the age group,” Balian said. But “the biggest challenge now is that there is less entertainment that includes kids and parents. ‘Family entertainment’ is becoming a code word for ‘dropping the kids off to see something while I do something else.’ I feel it’s important to have a shared experience, and that’s something that theater can provide . . . I write for adults and young adults as well as kids. I’ve found that kids and adults often respond to the same things.”

Bryant will be attending some of the Los Angeles performances.  She explains,  “I live in the house where my mother was born. Built around 1901 by her grandfather, Wm H Stewart, Jr. I have many family letters, scrapbooks, documents and photographs which my mother, grandmother and great grandparents had saved. When I moved back in the mid-1980s after living away from home for 30 years, my mother was working on our family tree which she had been doing on and off for years together with other cousins. I became interested and sort of picked up where she left off.

“Nothing that I discovered, but some years later Kate Larson’s research uncovered William Still’s account of the Christmas eve 1854 escape of Tubman’s three brothers who were renamed from Ross to Stewart. Many people never connected the Stewart name to Tubman and assumed she lived alone in Auburn when in fact she was surrounded by family members, including at her death.”

Growing up, Bryant says, “When my mother was a child, she said the family rarely talked about Tubman’s life because it evoked too many painful reminders of a past they were trying to forget. They all succeeded in creating new realities for themselves.”

Those in L.A. can check out “Steal Away” on June 18, 19, 24, and 25; Saturdays at 10:00 a.m. and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. For more on the Hollywood Fringe Festival, head here.

Literary Los Angeles: Los Angeles Alleys

It’s been far too long since I wrote a post for Literary Los Angeles, but now I am in the process of writing several very long ones at once, including a whole series on Los Angeles history and how it’s documented and distorted in film and literature.  Not to mention a personal post on what it feels like to buy my first home in Los Angeles, something I’ll be doing this month.

But while I gather up research for these upcoming posts, I did want to quickly draw your attention to this site, Los Angeles Alleys.

I love blogs that take a very narrow subject and then address it well and thoroughly, and Los Angeles Alleys is unique in its elegant treatment of what seems at first like a very dull topic.  I think my favorite so far is this one, in East Hollywood.

Literary Los Angeles: Building a Future City

After living in six cities on three continents, I have chosen to raise my children in the same place where I grew up (walking distance, in fact, from my old high school). Where once this was the default choice of many American families, in our rootless age, it is no longer an automatic decision. Instead, it was a conscious, specific choice, and not in all ways the most obvious or the most easy.   But it has its advantages.

I have   few specific memories of childhood but those I do have are strongly rooted in Los Angeles-area places.   To visit again as an adult the parks, museums, and restaurants of my youth never provided me with more than the vague and vaguely pleasant aura of nostalgia I might feel for the original Fisher Price Little People playhouse or for the “Little Mermaid” soundtrack my younger sister played on loop for the better part of 1989.   But to visit them again with my own child is quite another matter.   Whole new textures of the city have reappeared to me, new layers of experience and memory, things once simply treasured or simply feared and now seen again through the prism of adult understanding.   I feel as though I have discovered a second city atop the one I knew, and these two cities, one of the past and one of the present, coexist simultaneously for me now, along with a third: the city of the future, the city I imagine my daughter Beatrice will one day see for herself.

Now I remember my parents better.   I remember them in specific locations, like my mother walking with me along Hollywood Boulevard to the bus stop that would take me to school at Fountain and Highland; or my father lifting me up to sit, legs dangling, on the folding tables at our regular laundromat. I remember the convenience store where he bought me apple juice in glass apple-shaped bottles; I remember eating fruit out of the vending machines at Los Angeles City College while my mother was in class.   (I also remember foolishly biting into an unpeeled orange and crying at its unexpected bitterness.)   I remember the drugstore where weekly my mother bought me Golden Books and also the Los Angeles Children’s Hospital where once I went screaming after I injured my eye.

I remember my friends better. Here now are my childhood friends, many with young children of their own.   Many of these girls I first met in elementary school and while I would have been hard-pressed to recall the occasion before I had children of my own, I can recall now with perfect clarity the park where I had my tenth birthday party because I have taken my own daughter there with these same old friends and their new daughters and sons.   Here is my high school friend, now a married man and as of three weeks ago, a father, whom I remember from the long, long bus trips we took back and forth between my home in Glendale and his in Santa Monica when neither of us had a car.   I remember us walking down Wilshire Avenue to the beach before winding up at Canters’s deli, where we’d often go at two or three in the morning when the excitement of our mutual teenage brilliance kept us awake.

I remember what kids remember.   Because while I do remember fondly the parks, zoos, amusement parks, and museums of my early childhood (and the all-night delis of my teenage years) what I remember most and best about Los Angeles are things utterly unremarkable and seemingly random.   Why should I know by heart one taco stand, one bus stop, one street corner, above all the many stands, stops, and corners in my life?   Why is that I remember so well the public fountain in a plaza in Sherman Oaks where I went shopping once with my grandmother, though nothing particularly remarkable happened there?   Why is it that going to the laundromat with my father should loom as large in my life now as going to Disneyland?

I go through my day now with my daughter doing ordinary things and hopefully also some extraordinary ones, and I wonder all the time, what is she going to remember?   The pony rides at Griffith Park, or the free candy at the dry cleaner’s?   What will she see when she comes back to this city again in thirty years time””what shops, what corners?   I feel I am building this city anew for her.   Perhaps a few decades from now, I will hear her exclaim over the spot on 14th Street where last weekend she met a very friendly housecat, “I remember that!”