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Off the Bookshelf
MAY 24, 1999:
Jonathan Swift: A Portrait, by Victoria Glendinning, Henry Holt, $35 hard
It's no surprise that the man who described happiness as "a perpetual possession
of being well deceived" was not himself so deceived. In this chatty and personal
portrait of the author of Gulliver's Travels -- who died more than 250 years
ago -- Glendinning is like an aunt introducing the reader to a strange and fascinating
celebrity whose acquaintance she has made. Her biography is an entertaining overview
of the personal quirks and political diet of one of our language's greatest wits.
Orphaned of parents and country, Swift was a social misfit, a man who found outrageous
humor in the stark politics of his time, yet did not himself crack a smile. Though
he recorded his life through letters to a female friend, he lived without a companion.
Glendinning's highly readable portrait sent this reader back to Brobdingnag to watch
the giants romp. --Robin Bradford
Tina Modotti, by Pino Cacucci, St. Martin's Press, $24.95 hard
It is a life out of a Dos Passos novel. A 17-year-old Italian seamstress in San
Francisco in the 1910s meets and marries a society artist and becomes one of the
Twenties legends. Tina Modotti's affair with her husband's friend, Edward Weston,
propelled her into photography, and when she and Weston went to Mexico, she immediately
found, in the people and objects there, her subject. She became a café bohemian
legend, hanging around with the likes of Rivera and Siqueiros. Pino Cacucci's biography
is unfortunately campy, done up in Harlequin romance epithets. Cacucci implies that
Modotti conspired to assassinate one of her lovers, Trotskyist Julio Mella, but his
novelistic, unsourced episodes are not totally trustworthy. Sadly, Modotti became
a Stalinist thug. Her lover, Vidali, was one of the worst of Stalin's Cominterm henchmen,
helping organize Trotsky's assassination. Modotti practically gave up photography
for politics. When she broke up with Vidali, she mysteriously died. This bio is recommended
only if liberally compared to more reliable sources. --Roger Gathman
Slackjaw, by Jim Knipfel, Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam, $22.95 hard
Jim Knipfel, a columnist for the New York Press, has always immersed himself
in the shadows and hung with the outcasts. In his twenties, Knipfel learned that
he would have to adapt to permanent darkness as he began to lose his vision. His
memoir, Slackjaw, shows how his dry sense of humor and admiration of the absurd
helped him cope with the genetic disease that caused his visual deterioration and
the suicidal depression that ensued. While the topics of this story seem weighted
and depressing, his memoir is not. Knipfel pokes fun at himself a great deal and
shares a slew of arousing characters, like his punk friend/partner-in-crime, Grinch.
He often states that the only thing he's good at is telling "stupid little stories."
Knipfel proves that this is a gift. However, an alternative newspaper is a better
forum for his writing style than a memoir, since one of his strengths is his ability
to take a subject like Henry Miller or Boxcar Willie and run with it sans choke collar.
Knipfel is a treasure in short spurts. --Laura Klopfenstein
Sinatraland, by Sam Kashner, Overlook Press, $22.95 hard
It's Frank's world ... and he just lets us live in it, as the old saw goes. But
"Finkie" Finkelstein also believes that Frank wants to know how things
are going. And so he tells him in painful detail, via hundreds of pathetically intimate
letters, about being a swinging seller of window coverings in the life that he thinks
is a straight-up parallel to Sinatra's world. Sam Kashner's Sinatraland is
not without its charms and pathos. And Finkie's unwittingly brutal self-portrait
sometimes verges on hilarious. But the letter device gets tiresome and Finkie's persona
begins to grate. Still, it's hard to quarrel with the depth and breadth of Sinatra
references. And the the very last line (no peeking) is nearly worth the price of
the book. --Mike Shea

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