Mailer in Miami
What did Norman Mailer know about politics? Not much, I’d guess, and what he did know, he didn’t seem to care much about. That’s my impression, anyway, after having gone through about half of his essay on the 1968 GOP convention in Miami. Rather than attempt to place events in context or suggest some larger meaning, Mailer focuses almost exclusively on florid, moment-to-moment description. It’s impressive, in a way — Mailer’s certainly got a strong command of language — but it also displays a frustratingly limited perspective. Here’s his description of watching Rockefeller speak:
Except for his complexion, Rocky had an all but perfect face for President, virile, friendly, rough-hewn, of the common man, yet uncommon — Spencer Tracy’s younger brother gone into politics. He had only one flaw — an odd and unpleasant mouth, wide, unnaturally wide, with very thin lips. In the center of the mouth there seemed almost another mouth which did the speaking, somewhat thicker lips which pursed, opened, deliberated, all the while the slit-thin corners of the mouth seemed off on their own, not really moving with the center. So he gave the impression of a man to whom expert instruction had disclosed what he might be expected to say — therefore only the middle of the mouth would be on call.
A fine descriptive passage — yet, so far at least, it’s also more or less the exclusive means by which we are given to understand Rockefeller. There’s no history, no context, no voting record or anecdote, not even much in the way of helpful quotes — only a disembodied mouth which mars an otherwise handsome visage. Mailer’s unwillingness to report beyond his own fragmentary impressions is striking, especially in comparison to any current practitioners of his style of journalism. Even the most impressionistic political writers today — say, Matt Taibbi or James Wolcott — tend to flesh out their experiential detail with background information. After a while, Mailer’s refusal to engage with anything beyond the narrow confines of his own sensory experience seems terribly self-serving. And it’s not just the narcissism of excluding all information outside of one’s own immediate impressions either. Oh, he hunts down the vivid details with formidable skill, yet he gives his readers very little to do with those details — except, perhaps, be impressed that he hunted them down.
Isn’t it also possible that Mailer simply assumed anyone reading his essay had already had their head stuffed full of facts about Rockefeller’s voting record, etc.—facts that others could write about better than he could, anyway—and that what they were missing was the impressionism? That they approached this essay less like Deadheads following the band to the next gig than like comics nerds filling a hole in their collections?
Solipsistic, sure, but better than plain ignorant.
— Dara · Jul 30, 01:23 AM · #
Mailer/Breslin ’69!
http://media.nymag.com/docs/07/11/mailerbreslin.pdf
— Maureen · Jul 30, 03:42 AM · #
I feel the same way about Hunter S. Thompson. Reading his books, you have this image of this progressive, left-wing Democrat, but when you think about what Hunter S. Thompson is really passionate about – guns, drugs, and alcohol, at best he’s a left leaning libertarian.
— mark · Jul 30, 12:55 PM · #
@Dara: In fact, I think Miami was written as a couple of pieces for Harper’s Magazine.
— alkali · Jul 30, 07:46 PM · #
Mailer, me thinks, knew quite a bit about politics and he knew quite alot about the sorts of men who labored to gain political power. Mailer, though, considered himself a novelist and made the canny decision to go with his strengths, which was for observation, quick assessments, asides, small essays on the matters and niggling details of an election season. What is masterful for me was the ways he compared and contrasted the collective personalities of those who made up active Democrats and Republicans intent on gaining a larger sway over the nation’s direction. His genius is Dreiser-like here, and “Miami and the Seige of Chicago” are, I think, fully engaged with the tempo of the time. His task was to get at some essences more conventional journalism, plentiful as it was, would miss or ignore. The book, I think, is a solid document, a compelling history of a moment in American history.
— TED BURKE · Jul 30, 10:23 PM · #