This book is closely based on a weekly article Gerald Nachman wrote for the Chicago Tribune one year which concerned a different aspect of single life every week. The Fragile Bachelor is a compendium of amusing anecdotes, thought provoking stories, witty observation and general open-minded exploration of single life.
You'll laugh, you'll cry (or at least frown at the unexpected discomfort of having to think) but most of all you'll lose yourself for a few moments in world where somebody actually understands your singlehood. From the empty fridge to those tedious nights out with married couples, this book will accompany you for a while on your road through singledom.

This highly entertaining book differs from others in the genre in that it is not a fawning fan book. It is lots of fun and very well written. Some OTR fans have slammed it for its numerous errors (and it's true; it could have used a fact checker), but Nachman is after more important game than radio trivia, and he succeeds,

But I do have to register one strong objection. It's his assesment of Eddie Cantor. Now, Cantor may indeed have been a lousy rat in his personal life, as Nachman's informants report --that I don't know about -- but the book is one hundred per cent wrong about Cantor's show (at least his show from the mid-forties on). Nachman dismisses Cantor as an essentially talentless hack, and his show as depressingly unfunny. A few years ago, back when I first read this book, I accepted Nachman's criticism as probably factual (though I did remember enjoying Cantor's movies on the late, late show many years ago). The fact is that at the time I had never heard any of Cantor's radio shows so I had nothing to compare his comments with. Then about a year ago I ran across a partial episode of one Cantor's shows. It was hilarious and made me hungry for more. A few months ago I was able to obtain six or seven dozen shows dating from WW II and later. Now, it's possible that Nachman was going by Cantor's shows from the thirtes, when radio was much different than the situation comedy oriented 1940s. Whatever the case all I can say is that going by the fifty or so shows I've heard so far, Nachman is wrong, wrong, wrong. Cantor's show is hilarious and every bit as good as Burns and Allen, Jack Benny, Phil Harris, or any other top shows of the period. The writing is first rate. Second bananas Harry von Zell and Bert Gordon as the Mad Russian are standouts, and as good as any supporting players on the other shows. Better, really. Cantor's show has quickly become one of my very favorites. My 11 year old son loves it. Even my 15 year old daughter -- the one with the metal stud in her nose -- loves the show.

So read Nachman. He's good. More important, listen to the shows yourself.

This book is an excellent overview of the world of radio. Unlike other books which tend to concentrate on only one genre (comedy, superheroes) or one type of show (Jack Benny, Fibber McGee, etc) this book covers them all. It also isn't written for the octogenarian that happens to remember when Ma Perkins was on the air. It is written as to compare it with contemporary times and people. It dares to compare Fred Allen with David Letterman and to say that the Lone Ranger was the first politically correct superhero. People who've never heard of Allen now understand his wit and talent because they know Letterman. Nachman is right on the mark with his observations and lines such as the one describing the Lone Ranger's silver bullet as the "bullet from Cartier's" are priceless.

The book doesn't quite get five stars in my opinion because of some of the (hopefully) unintentional slurs that are offered. The word "uppity" should be banished from the language, let alone be used to describe a Rochester or Beulah character. Some anti-Semitic slights can also be inferred when some negative comments about Groucho, Benny, and Burns are made, but guys like Bob Hope are OK because they are "good old americans." Again, I assume that these are unintentional, but if a WASP like me can pick up on them...

All in all, well worth the money and despite the slights, one that is difficult to put down. Hopefully one more in depth is on the way.

Regards,

Raised on Radio is for those not really raised on radio but who experienced radio sometime in the twenties, thirties, particularly the forties, and just possibly the fifties before it was razed by TV. The book has insight and lovingly presents its topics. The structure although imperfect gives the reader Nachman's smorgasbord. There are things one will enjoy, like more of, things which could be omitted, or possibly just a little taste. However, it could be more carefully researched. The White Sox announcer at WCFL was not Bob Nelson but Bob Elson who incidentally recreated games on WJJD prior to WCFL. One could be confused after the elaborate Nachman treatment of the Nelson family earlier in the book. Ozzie and Harriet along with the boys did many things--but not White Sox baseball. The book also gives relatively little space to those of us raised on radio, meaning the afternoon adventures that followed the soap operas. There is a treatment but rather limited. Rather than being a book for those raised on radio it is a book for those who experienced radio. According to Nachman Fred Allen was one of the radio greats and I do not disagree, but I would argue that Allen's humor was not for those growing up with radio. It was adult and sophisticated and sadly missed today. Further, although the book talks about how radio pulled the nation together through the depression and World War II it does not discuss the importance of ethnic stations which presented programming in many languages to immigrants and gave them a sense of belonging, communication, and at the same time protected and reenforced their separateness. I often heard my grandparents listening to Polish stations in Chicago following the endless presentations of Chopin played by Paderewski with the news in Polish interrupted by advertisements in mixed languages for aluminum storm windows at an address on Milwaukee Avenue. It would also be nice to have appendicies with radio digests so one could get a feeling for what is being offered in March of 1936 or July of 1944. All in all Nachman's book gives one an appetite for more radio.

There's something wrong here. This is not a well written book. The writing lacks music, it does not flow, and I have the feeling that the author was uncomfortable writing. He cannot seem to convert his love of radio into words. BUT...He loves the medium. He loves the people, and He loves the memory. That comes through.So, ultimately, this is a great book, because in the end, the small errors, the lack of poetry, don't matter. What does is the sound of the broken topped radio that brought the world into his home and into his head.For that, the sound of a world fading into silence, we should thank him.

While reading this book, I was once again 9 years old, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of our old Philco, slurping Cheerioats all over my school clothes, but determined not to miss Bobby Benson and the B-Bar-B Riders or the Lone Ranger. With just the quote of a jingle or a telling announcer's phrase, Gerald Nachman evokes a whole era and and important segment of our social history. It's a complete history, from crystal sets to Don Imus, with tremendous good stuff in between, especially juicy tidbits about Red Skelton and Arthur Godfrey. To the other reviewer who quibbled with Nachman's accuracy regarding Adlai Stevenson in 1960--he WAS a presidential candidate during the convention, just not on the national ticket. Picky-picky! I heartily recommend this wonderful book to everyone, but especially to those aging nostalgiacs like me who love getting back to their childhood if just for a few hours. Don't touch that dial!

"Seriously Funny" does have serious flaws. Unlike Phil Berger, Nach the Hack has no real feeling for his subject. This is a dull each-chapter-is-a-bio book. It doesn't move.
Berger's "Last Laugh" captured the dangerous world of stand-up. It was a moving train. Nachman's a fat San Francisco trolley.
And yes, most of what's in the book is clip-material. Sure, he spoke to some comedians. They probably answered the phone and hung up on him. The New York Times book review said this was a clip job and it's very obvious.
Did Mort Sahl talk to Nachman? No. That should tell you all you need to know about whether Nachman is Mr. Comedy Expert or respected in the comedy world.
Nach the Hack's point is supposedly to talk about the dangerous 60's comedians. So he sticks everybody he can find in here, including Bill Cosby. It's just a bunch of bios of comics. There's really no point to it, unlike Tony Hendra writing about "Going too Far."
If you want bios of comics go see Anthony Slide or Ronald L. Smith or Barry Took or Steve Allen. All of them have better credentials than Mr. Nach-Nach joke. Even Albert Goldman's better.
The reviewers who've said they were disappointed have every right to be. Here and there you might find a quote you missed from somebody else's book or from some guy's article in Esquire or the Rolling Stone, but this is pretty much of a tired textbook with lifeless stagey portraits of each comedian opening each chapter.
$... when it's remaindered in the Fall. That's what it's worth. But get "Funny People" by Steve Allen instead. Or "The Last Laugh" by Phil Berger.

Although this book has flaws, I found it very interesting. It covers many famous comedians, whose work I had either enjoyed (Newhart, Woody Allen, Cosby) or had encountered here and there (Kovacs, Freberg, Nichols and May). The book worked as a series of mini-biographies which were compulsively readable, and as a bonus, there were very funny bits in each chapter as he quotes from the routines.

There were flaws, but I could live with them. There were a few errors, and the structure of most of the chapters could have used help. (The chapters tend to start with an overview of the comedian's essence, then shift to biography. In some instances, this came across as repetitious.) Don't expect a history of the era (say for a assessment of how the shift from Paar to Carson affected the direction of comedy.)

The most serious drawback to me was that there was no concluding chapter after we had covered all the biographies, because I had a few questions by then and wanted Nachman to try to draw stuff together. (Chiefly, why did his Fifties comics, apart from Phyllis Diller, tend to fall silent or burn out fast, while the Sixties comics, apart from Bruce and Dick Gregory, seem to go on forever?)

Still, this was a very enjoyable book. My wife is looking forward to reading it, having seen me enjoy it. I say regard it as a useful overview of an era and not a definitive last word on the subject.

Gerald Nachman is the ideal writer to capture the excitement of the ground-breaking satirical comedy of the 1950s and 1960s. A respected critic and a very funny man himself, he knows how to do his homework. Better yet, he writes crisply, with style and humor. Nachman began earning his spurs in the 1960s, reporting on, among other theatrical things, new voices in comedy for major newspapers on both coasts. He's an expert on funny. He even looks funny.

Now he has put that golden era in perspective. "Seriously Funny" (Pantheon) is the definitive word on the comedy revolution that changed the way we laugh, at least for a few fantastic years.

This book will please two audiences -- those who want to relive the euphoria they felt when the revolt happened, and the younger crowd that always wondered where these people came from, whether they were any good, and where they are now.

Mort Sahl, Sid Caesar, Tom Lehrer, Steve Allen, Jonathan Winters, Mike Nichols and Elaine May, Bob Newhart, Lenny Bruce, Shelley Berman, Godfrey Cambridge, Woody Allen, Bill Cosby, Joan Rivers are all there, among several others.

Nachman's 30,000-word introduction, a sweeping overview that explains the roots of the revolt, acknowledges its ephemeral nature: "It's hard to find traces now of those brilliant, perceptive, funny comedians. The comics who came later mostly aimed for the gut and the groin, not the brain or the soul." And he laments: "The laughter they left behind in all of those little underground clubs is long gone, but their legacy still smiles brightly, warmly, and merrily."

Nachman seems to have combed through all published sources available, adding personal interviews with the principals and their associates wherever possible. Some cranky characters such as Mort Sahl and Bill Cosby declined to cooperate in this project, but many others added fascinating detail on their career zigzags and what they're up to today. Sahl may be surprised to see that Nachman produces a 48-page profile of him, perhaps the strongest piece in the book, pieced together from Sahl's recorded material, Nachman's occasional encounters with him over the years, and a crystal-clear analysis of the man.

Offstage, Nachman reports, some of these wits were prickly, some were grey and businesslike, some still had the comedy magic. Sadly, many of them are wasting away in retirement. You want to shout: "Shelley Berman, Jonathan Winters, come back. We need more of you."

A deft touch with the language pulls the reader through this 659-page book. Some of Nachman's gems:
-- Of Vaughn Meader's short-lived career as an impressionist specializing in the voice of John F. Kennedy, he writes: "One twist to the single-bullet theory that didn't make it into the Warren report: the same bullet that killed JFK also murdered Vaughn Meader's career."
-- Of Woody Allen's lesser movie scripts: "If the actors were delivering the same lines in a club, they'd be drenched in flop sweat."
-- Of Lenny Bruce: "Bruce gouged under the skin, creating jucier, Jewishier characters in his gallery of gargoyles and showbiz sharks, and made much more racket."

"Seriously Funny" is a brilliant combination of dense research and incisive interviews, presented through the eye of senior critic.

As a bonus, the narrative is sprinkled with some of the performers' best lines and how they came to be. For example, Woody Allen, in his early gag-writing days, was a veritable joke machine, writing easily and prolifically for other comics. Many of his weird one-liners still make me laugh today. Example: He first suspected his parents didn't love him when they put a live teddy bear in his crib. And Jonathan Winters, famous for being "always on", is said to have adlibbed to a lady who complained "You're not handicapped" when he parked his car in a spot reserved for the handicapped, "Madame, can you see inside my mind?"

This history of intelligent comedy is anything but a doorstop. It is a feast. No, it's more than a feast. It is a smorgasbord so big it threatens to collapse the table. It's hard to believe so much history, mirth and critical analysis can be squeezed between two covers.

END