home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search
- <text id=89TT2255>
- <title>
- Aug. 28, 1989: Hard-Boiled But Semi-Tough
- </title>
- <history>
- TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
- Aug. 28, 1989 World War II:50th Anniversary
- </history>
- <article>
- <source>Time Magazine</source>
- <hdr>
- BOOKS, Page 65
- Hard-Boiled but Semi-Tough
- </hdr><body>
- <p>By R.Z. Sheppard
- </p>
- <qt> <l>HARP</l>
- <l>by John Gregory Dunne</l>
- <l>Simon & Schuster; 235 pages; $18.95</l>
- </qt>
- <p> Confession is a religious ritual and a literary device, a
- point that John Gregory Dunne has illustrated a number of times
- during his career as a U.S. journalist and novelist. For
- example, Vegas (1974) was an unflattering, candid account of a
- bad time in the author's life, an on-the-road book that played
- personal problems against the city that passes for Sodom, U.S.A.
- </p>
- <p> In a field that includes his wife Joan Didion, Dunne has
- held his own as an observer of public and private wastelands.
- But he has found a more authentic voice in fiction (True
- Confessions; Dutch Shea, Jr.; The Red White and Blue). His
- characters are barbed, cynical and funny. Their attitudes and
- remarks reveal gifts for malice, resentment and mordant
- sentimentality, which Dunne associates with his immigrant
- heritage. As he writes in Harp, a memoir that takes its title
- from the slang for a son or daughter of the Old Sod, "Nothing
- lifts the heart of the Irish caroler more than the small vice,
- the tiny lapse, the exposed vanity, the recherche taste."
- </p>
- <p> Outside the ventriloquism of fiction, Dunne, 57, sounds
- like a Harp from one of his own novels. Yet he seems to have had
- some trouble getting comfortable with his natural delivery. The
- problem lies in the dirty secret of class consciousness. "It
- took me nearly a quarter of a century to realize that here was
- the tension that gave me a subject," he notes, after admitting
- that while growing up Irish Catholic in West Hartford, Conn.,
- he yearned to be an Episcopalian and a member of Wasp society.
- </p>
- <p> It wasn't that Dunne lacked status. His grandfather was a
- grocer who built himself up to community pillar, and his father
- was a respected surgeon. Dunne went to Princeton University and
- perfected talking through his nose, the better to honk down the
- lower orders. But once a Harp always a Harp, a lesson driven
- home by another old institution, the U.S. Army. German whores,
- barracks mates with tattoos, the general cynicism toward
- military routine, all validated his own outlook. Truth be told
- -- and Dunne tells it -- he is fascinated by life on the wild
- side.
- </p>
- <p> Much of the author's experience is the vicarious quest for
- material and a hard-boiled persona. He becomes knowledgeable
- about firearms by reading about them; he familiarizes himself
- with the latest in sex toys by researching them at a Frankfurt
- porno shop. But his education in cardiology is firsthand. "In
- the seventh year of the Reagan kakistocracy, the medical dyes
- shooting through my arterial freeways were forced to make a
- detour around a major obstruction," he writes with calculated
- self-mockery.
- </p>
- <p> This brush with mortality in middle age provides Harp with
- a certain amount of momentum. The deaths of family members lead
- to a search for his ancestral roots in Ireland and an
- application for an Irish passport. His motives are mixed: "The
- fact is I wanted an Irish passport for the simple reason that
- I was eligible for one. Trying to get one would both add
- structure to my journey and force me into that examination of
- my Irish background that I had always so rigorously rejected."
- </p>
- <p> Dunne is not naturally introspective, which may be bad news
- for the self-help set but is good news for readers who like
- snappy prose, to say nothing of snappishness. Dunne takes
- particular pleasure in knocking a great American unknockable
- from his hometown. Katharine Hepburn, he harps, "has always
- seemed to me all cheekbones and opinions, and none of the
- opinions has ever struck me as terribly original or terribly
- interesting, dependent as they are on a rather parochial
- Hartford definition of quality, as reinterpreted by five
- decades' worth of Studio unit publicists." Writing well, or at
- least trying to, is the best revenge.
- </p>
-
- </body></article>
- </text>
-
-