John O'Hara leans on his Remington Rand KMC standard typewriter
On
John O’Hara’s gravestone are the words, “Better than anyone else he told the
truth about his time. He was a professional. He wrote honestly and well.” O’Hara
worded the epitaph himself, but his claims, more or less, originate with Ernest
Hemingway’s review of O’Hara’s 1934 debut novel: “If you want to read a book by
a man who knows exactly what he is writing about and has written it marvellously
well, read Appointment in Samarra.”
The third and fourth lines on O’Hara gravestone
were taken up by The New Yorker, a
magazine to which O’Hara contributed more short stories than any other
writer (247), in its August 19, 2013, tribute by Lorin Stein, editor of the Paris Review. The headline said, “He
told the truth about his time”, and below it was the Review’s 1993 quote from author Fran Lebowitz, “To me, O’Hara is
the real Fitzgerald”.
How is it, then, that we know all about Hemingway
and O’Hara’s fellow Irish American Scott Fitzgerald, but few of us remember
O’Hara, the author of BUtterfield 8
and the epistolary Pal Joey, among 17
novels, as well as novellas, plays, screenplays and more
than 400 short stories? After all, he hasn’t even made it on to Richard Polt’s
list of Writers and their Typewriters on Richard’s Classic Typewriter Page, and - especially given the number of photos O'Hara had taken at his typewriters - that’s just about as clear an indication of obscurity as there can be.
We look again to The New Yorker for an answer. It once more quoted Lebowitz on the
subject. She said O’Hara is underrated “because every single person who knew
him hated him”. It’s only a slight exaggeration.
A younger O'Hara at his Underwood 5 standard typewriter
Two years ago London’s Times Literary Supplement described
O’Hara as “An influential author ‘hiding in plain sight’. It quoted Lionel
Trilling, “a critic hard to please [who] glowingly reviewed one of [O’Hara’s]
best story collections, Pipe Night
(1945), on the front page of The New York
Times Book Review. ‘More than anyone now writing’, Trilling said, ‘O’Hara
understands the complex, contradictory, asymmetrical society in which we live.’
Trilling situated him in the line of social novelists such as William Dean
Howells, Edith Wharton, Henry James and Proust.”
Brendan Gill, who worked with O'Hara at The New Yorker, ranks him “among the
greatest short-story writers in English, or in any other language” and credits O’Hara
with helping “to invent what the world came to call The New Yorker short story.” But of the gravestone, Gill added, “From
the far side of the grave, he remains self-defensive and overbearing. Better
than anyone else? Not merely better than any other writer of fiction but better
than any dramatist, any poet, any biographer, any historian? It is an
astonishing claim.”
In
his introduction to the 2011 volume John
O’Hara: Selected Short Stories, E.L. Doctorow wrote, “ … O’Hara practises
the classic form of the modern short story developed by Joyce and perfected by
Hemingway: the entry point is close in time to the denouement, the setting is
circumscribed, and the piece ideally yields some sort of revelation or what
Joyce called an epiphany. Writers today have mostly abandoned this right form
…”
John Henry O'Hara earned his early
literary reputation for short stories and became a best-selling writer with Appointment in Samarra, about the
downfall of a car dealer in the fictional town of Gibbsville, Pennsylvania. It begins
with a scene of a married couple having sex on Christmas morning. O’Hara’s work
stands out for its unvarnished realism. Champions, who include John Updike and
Shelby Foote, rank him highly among the under appreciated and unjustly neglected
major American writers of the 20th century.
Lorin Stein wrote in 2013, “O’Hara may not have
been the best story writer of the 20th century, but he is the most addictive. You
can binge on his collections the way some people binge on Mad Men, and for some
of the same reasons. On the topics of class, sex, and alcohol - that is, the
topics that mattered to him - his novels amount to a secret history of American
life.” John Updike said O’Hara “outproduced our capacity for appreciation;
maybe now we can settle down and marvel at him all over again.”
It is for BUtterfield
8 that I am most familiar with O’Hara, and then not so much because of the
1935 book as the 1960 movie starring Elizabeth Taylor (for which Taylor won her
first Oscar, as Gloria Wandrous). O’Hara’s novel, in which his alter ego is beat
reporter Jimmy Malloy, was his roman à
clef, based on the tragic, short life of flapper Starr Faithfull, whose
mysterious death in 1931 became a tabloid sensation. Faithfull was a real-life
acquaintance of O’Hara’s, a fact which added to the book's feel of authenticity.
Starr Faithfull (above, born Marian Starr Wyman in
1906) was an American socialite. After she died, newspapers published
allegations that she had been sexually abused as a child by Andrew James
Peters, a wealthy, prominent politician and former Mayor of Boston, and that he
was suspected of murdering her. Investigators unsuccessfully attempted to
determine whether her death was a homicide or a suicide, and it remains
unsolved. Faithfull was found on the beach at Long Beach, New York, on the
morning of June 8, 1931. An autopsy revealed she died by drowning, but she also
had many bruises on her body and a large dose of a sedative in her system. Evidence for the
investigation included her diary, containing explicit descriptions of her
sexual liaisons with 19 different men, including one she called “AJP”, who was
thought to be Peters. Time magazine
called the story a “sexy death mystery” with a “perfect front-page name”.
Doctorow said, “John O’Hara was a newspaperman before he turned
to fiction and the seeming ease with which he wrote stories and novels must
have come of that facility given to reporters who write against a deadline. His
output was prodigious … In many instances his prose has a reportorial tone. The
presumptive reality in an O’Hara first sentence is almost insolent. He is a
writer who has made it his business to know things and likes to tell you what
he knows.”
O'Hara was born in Pottsville, Pennsylvania, on
January 31, 1905. As The New Yorker
tribute observed, “From the time he was a teenager, O’Hara supported himself
with his typewriter.” He worked for various local newspapers before moving to
New York City and writing short stories for magazines. He said he learned from
reading Ring Lardner “that if you wrote down speech as it is spoken truly, you
produce true characters.” He died from cardiovascular disease in Princeton, New
Jersey, on April 11, 1970.
I liked this one sir. Now I feel compelled to seek his works and start binge reading. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteFine story. Another author and typewriter to be added to Richard P's collection.
ReplyDeleteI was raised not far from Pottsville, and I worked in radio there for a few years. Edgar Allen Poe lived there a few years; up the street from the diner I used to visit. Until now I never heard of John O'hara. None of my English teachers ever assigned one of his short stories or books. We all knew about John Lewis and his cell in the Pottsville prison and the Molly Maguires. No mention of an author other than Poe.
Hi Robert:
ReplyDeleteAnother great article, I knew abit about John O'Hara but you piqued my interest to read him.
Thanks,
john
I haven't read O'Hara, but certainly know his name, and am glad to add him to my list—thanks! But I believe that's a Remington Noiseless, not a KMC.
ReplyDeleteI'll have to change the story - and the model name - now that he's on your list!
ReplyDelete