With a style that combined biting sarcasm with the "language of the free lunch counter," Henry Louis Mencken shook politics and politicians for nearly half a century. Now, fifty years after Mencken’s death, the Johns Hopkins University Press announces
The Buncombe Collection
, newly packaged editions of nine Mencken classics:
Happy Days
,
Heathen Days
,
Newspaper Day
s,
Prejud
With a style that combined biting sarcasm with the "language of the free lunch counter," Henry Louis Mencken shook politics and politicians for nearly half a century. Now, fifty years after Mencken’s death, the Johns Hopkins University Press announces
The Buncombe Collection
, newly packaged editions of nine Mencken classics:
Happy Days
,
Heathen Days
,
Newspaper Day
s,
Prejudices
,
Treatise on the Gods
,
On Politics
,
Thirty-Five Years of Newspaper Work
,
Minority Report
, and
A Second Mencken Chrestomathy
.
Most of these autobiographical writings first appeared in the
New Yorker
. Here Mencken recalls memories of a safe and happy boyhood in the Baltimore of the 1880s.
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Paperback
,
336 pages
Published
August 28th 2006
by Johns Hopkins University Press
(first published 1940)
HAPPY DAYS. (1940). H. L. Mencken. ****.
Mencken (1880-1956) had published a fragment of his memoirs in The New Yorker, and was encouraged by their editor to expand the writing to book form. He did better than that; he expanded the work to three separate titles, of which this is the first. All of the titles are available in the recent publication of The Days Trilogy from The Library of America because I feel the pressure of a pile of library books that may not allow me to cover all three in time.
HAPPY DAYS. (1940). H. L. Mencken. ****.
Mencken (1880-1956) had published a fragment of his memoirs in The New Yorker, and was encouraged by their editor to expand the writing to book form. He did better than that; he expanded the work to three separate titles, of which this is the first. All of the titles are available in the recent publication of The Days Trilogy from The Library of America because I feel the pressure of a pile of library books that may not allow me to cover all three in time. In this first volume, Mencken essentially covers his boyhood in Baltimore in the 1890s. It struck me that his life was very much like that I grew up with in the 1940s in Philadelphia. He grew up in a middle-class neighborhood. His father owned a cigar business and sold his wares through a local store and one in Washington. The city at the time was composed of mini-neighborhoods where most of the action occurred at the borders. Each neighborhood consisted of enclaves of various ethnic groups, who fanatically defended their territories. Most of the boys, however, managed to grow up playing the same games and going to the same style schools that most of us are familiar with. Boys then were pressured into joining ‘gangs’, though they were much different than gangs of today – they were more social clubs. Mencken worked in his father’s store and managed to get a few trips to Washington to visit the other store, too. His was a typical boyhood. The only difference that I could find was that police were objects of fear and distrust in his day, although that changed as he grew up. He also described his early ambitions to become either a chemist or a writer. After forays into both fields, he turned out to become a writer, primarily for a variety of newspapers. His reading was limited as a child, but he did manage to find his ‘favorite’ book: Huckleberry Finn. This volume was written in a lively, readable style, with glimmers of Mencken’s wit peeking through. Recommended.
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This is a pretty remarkable book, particularly because it is presented as nothing more than a rambling recollection loosely arranged into topical groupings. Like most memoirs written by white men before, say, the eighteen- or nineteen-nineties, it is replete with jaw-dropping statements about race and other races (in the form of both the expected prejudices, as well as one or two intimations of a jarring broad-mindedness). This made the book difficult to appreciate objectively, and generally add
This is a pretty remarkable book, particularly because it is presented as nothing more than a rambling recollection loosely arranged into topical groupings. Like most memoirs written by white men before, say, the eighteen- or nineteen-nineties, it is replete with jaw-dropping statements about race and other races (in the form of both the expected prejudices, as well as one or two intimations of a jarring broad-mindedness). This made the book difficult to appreciate objectively, and generally added to the feeling that while a first-class writer, H.L. Mencken would probably be an insupportable bore if you were to be stuck in an elevator with his resurrected soul. That, and he is clearly a blowhard. But a self-aware one with a well-developed sense of humor, philosophy, and psychology to make him very enjoyable company when you -- as the reader -- get to dictate the length of your encounters.
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Mencken's childhood memories are wonderful for two chief reasons: as excavations of the lost world of comfortable German-American Baltimoreans of the 1880s, and for the incredible vigor that HLM got into his prose.
HLM is, I think, more notable for his talent as a sentence-crafter than to any claims to wisdom, and we are treated to some beauties:
On his baby fat: "This adiposity passed off as I began to run about, and from the age of six onward I was rather skinny, but toward the end of my twentie
Mencken's childhood memories are wonderful for two chief reasons: as excavations of the lost world of comfortable German-American Baltimoreans of the 1880s, and for the incredible vigor that HLM got into his prose.
HLM is, I think, more notable for his talent as a sentence-crafter than to any claims to wisdom, and we are treated to some beauties:
On his baby fat: "This adiposity passed off as I began to run about, and from the age of six onward I was rather skinny, but toward the end of my twenties my cross-section again became a circle, and at thirty I was taking one of the first anti-fat cures, and beating it by sly resorts to malt liquor."
On his father's (who owned a cigar factory) professional palaver: "They fell to talking of the illustrious personages they were constantly meeting in Washington - Senators who had not been sober for a generation, Congressmen who fought bartenders and kicked the windows out of night-hacks, Admirals in the Navy who were reputed to be four-, five- and even six-bottle men, Justices of the Supreme and other high courts who were said to live on whiskey and chewing tobacco alone."
These quotations capture the spirit of Happy Days - cynical and critical, but pleasantly entertained by the faults of the world. It's a deeply conservative mindset. HLM critiques not because he wishes to revise the world, but because there is so much entertainment in doing so. The pleasure in reading Happy Days is only alloyed by his treatment of blacks. While I wouldn't expect Mencken to be politically correct (or even generous), it is fair to expect him to have been as critical and clear-eyed towards racial stereotypes as he was towards most things. Afterall, Mencken did famously excoriate the Klan when it surged in the twenties. He was not a standard-issue bigot. Instead, Happy Days' frequent accounts of young HLM's black acquaintances do little to rise above pernicious southern tropes.
(I read this one in the Library of America's collection of HLM's memoires, which includes his appendecized revisions - "Days Revisisted." Days Revisited is probably only required for the completist who needs a list of every one of HLM's childhood neighbors and the history of their progeny, eg, but it is a useful account of which of HLM's relatives he believed were stupid, nincompoops, idiotic, etc.)
A man who knew what words meant describing scenes of his happy and prosperous childhood. Told with wit and ironic nostalgia, but most of all told with unblinking honesty.
Fair Warning:
What will appall those who have not dipped before into the rich stream of benevolent racism that essentially defines American Letters from the Colonial Period straight through to the Civil Rights Era, is how casually offensive racial and ethic tags are dropped into a story, sprinkled in by the author
Great reading.
A man who knew what words meant describing scenes of his happy and prosperous childhood. Told with wit and ironic nostalgia, but most of all told with unblinking honesty.
Fair Warning:
What will appall those who have not dipped before into the rich stream of benevolent racism that essentially defines American Letters from the Colonial Period straight through to the Civil Rights Era, is how casually offensive racial and ethic tags are dropped into a story, sprinkled in by the author like a cook adds salt to a dish. Mencken was no saint, he was solidly a man of the South writing to people who thought as he did and that populace was not going to gag on an offensive slang reference to a man's color, indeed most humor in the 1920s REQUIRED offensive racial caricatures. I refuse to defend Mencken on this point, and not just because I don't believe he would want me to. Cynical humanism is woven tightly throughout Mencken's worldview, and for a man so contemptuous of the Booboisee and their utter lack of self awareness this blind spot of his that allows him to denigrate the powerless can be extremely jarring. It probably has a lot to do with why he is almost ignored today as a man of letters. I will not defend Mencken, but if there is any small grace to his approach to writing that might allow us to forgive him his slurs, it is that like in early Twain, he was an equal opportunity slanderer who loved and despised all humanity greatly and in equal measures. Unlike Twain, however, Mencken never grew past the habit of seeing the other. I have read too much literature from this period to continue to be shocked by the habits of a writer who died before casual racism became taboo.
So I like the book despite this massive flaw, not because of it.
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Believe it or not Mencken actually had a happy childhood, and he records it here. His humor is all there minus the biting criticism. His vocabulary is amazing (had to look up a lot of words) but the way he puts words together is so delightfully creative it caused me to smile or laugh at nearly every page. And it gives a very instructive picture of what growing up in nineteenth century Baltimore was like. Delightful read.
Finished it and loved it. Not as densely written as Notes on Democracy, so an easier, lighter read. Can't wait to see what unfolds. I bought it used on line, and turned out to be a first edition. Unfortunately unsigned, but nice to hold it. It's in great condition for 73 years old. A dazzling portrait of Baltimore seen through a young boy's eyes at the end of the 19th century. Written like poetry.
Henry Louis "H.L." Mencken
became one of the most influential and prolific journalists in America in the 1920s and '30s, writing about all the shams and con artists in the world. He attacked chiropractors and the Ku Klux Klan, politicians and other journalists. Most of all, he attacked Puritan morality. He called Puritanism, "the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy."
At the height o
Henry Louis "H.L." Mencken
became one of the most influential and prolific journalists in America in the 1920s and '30s, writing about all the shams and con artists in the world. He attacked chiropractors and the Ku Klux Klan, politicians and other journalists. Most of all, he attacked Puritan morality. He called Puritanism, "the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy."
At the height of his career, he edited and wrote for The American Mercury magazine and the Baltimore Sun newspaper, wrote a nationally syndicated newspaper column for the Chicago Tribune, and published two or three books every year. His masterpiece was one of the few books he wrote about something he loved, a book called The American Language (1919), a history and collection of American vernacular speech. It included a translation of the Declaration of Independence into American English that began, "When things get so balled up that the people of a country got to cut loose from some other country, and go it on their own hook, without asking no permission from nobody, excepting maybe God Almighty, then they ought to let everybody know why they done it, so that everybody can see they are not trying to put nothing over on nobody."
When asked what he would like for an epitaph, Mencken wrote, "If, after I depart this vale, you ever remember me and have thought to please my ghost, forgive some sinner and wink your eye at some homely girl."
(from American Public Media)
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