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- REVIEWS, Page 68BOOKSCollector of Lost Souls
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- By STEFAN KANFER
-
- TITLE: UP IN THE OLD HOTEL
- AUTHOR: Joseph Mitchell
- PUBLISHER: Pantheon; 716 pages; $27.50
-
- THE BOTTOM LINE: A cult figure returns in a new collection
- of old masterworks.
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- He still comes into the office almost every day. New
- staffers frequently ask about the identity of the reticent
- 85-year-old with the soft North Carolinian accent. "A cult
- figure" is the usual answer. Sometimes they are referred to the
- dedication in a book by humorist Calvin Trillin: "To the New
- Yorker reporter who set the standard -- Joseph Mitchell." Hardly
- anyone else refers to Mitchell as a New Yorker reporter these
- days. After all, he has not published a word in 27 years.
-
- Mitchell's reputation rests on four books: McSorley's
- Wonderful Saloon (1942), Old Mr. Flood (1948), The Bottom of the
- Harbor (1960) and Joe Gould's Secret (1965). They have been out
- of print for decades. But Pantheon Books has altered all that.
- Several years ago, the publishing house went through a
- convulsive change of management. Since then it has been the
- subject of intense debate and gossip. Could the new Pantheon
- survive under current business conditions? What kind of writers
- would it attract? If this anthology of Mitchell's best work is
- any indication, the publishers are on the cusp of a renaissance.
- Crowded with the author's favorite subjects ("visionaries,
- obsessives, imposters, fanatics, lost souls, the-end-is-near
- street preachers, old Gypsy kings and old Gypsy queens, and
- out-and-out freak-show freaks"), Up in the Old Hotel is the
- shortest 718-page volume of the year.
-
- In the first entry a Manhattan bartender recalls some
- patrons in his native Ireland. "There were Falstaffs among them
- -- that is, they were just windy old drunks from the back alleys
- of Ballyragget, but they were Falstaffs to me. And there were
- Ancient Pistols among them. And there was an old man with a
- broken-hearted-looking face who used to come in and sit in a
- chair in the corner with a Guinness at his elbow and stare
- straight ahead for hours at a time and occasionally mumble a few
- words to himself, and every time he came in I would say to
- myself, `King Lear.' " Readers of that passage will not wonder
- that Mitchell has attended meetings of the James Joyce Society
- for the past 30 years.
-
- Long before the invention of the tape recorder, Mitchell
- managed to catch cadences of speech and pin down quirks of
- personality. A bearded lady refuses to let the doctors examine
- her: "When they get their hands on a monsterosity the medical
- profession don't know when to stop." A man who calls himself a
- king of the Gypsies is asked his age: "Between forty-five and
- seventy-five . . . My hair's been white for years and years, and
- I got seventeen grandchildren, and I bet I'm an old, old man."
- (His story was so enchanting that a Broadway musical, Bajour,
- was based on Mitchell's profile; it ran for 234 performances
- during the 1964 season.)
-
- A nonagenarian looks back: "In the summer of 1902 I came
- real close to getting in serious trouble with a married woman,
- but I had a fight with my conscience and my conscience won, and
- what's the result? I had two wives, good, Christian women, and I
- can't hardly remember what either of them looked like, but I can
- remember the face on that woman so clear it hurts."
-
- In Mitchell's hands the city skyline, tugboats, river
- barges, even rodents have a singularity that others overlooked:
- "A lust for blood seems to take hold of the brown rat. One
- night, in the poultry part of old Gansevoort Market, alongside
- the Hudson, a burrow of them bit the throats of over three
- hundred broilers and ate less than a dozen. Before this part of
- the market was abandoned the rats practically had charge of it.
- Some of them nested in the drawers of desks. When the drawers
- were pulled open, they leaped out, snarling."
-
- As rich, informative and diverting as these pieces are,
- they are accompanied by a melancholy undertow. Mitchell's home
- base recently underwent its own convulsive change of
- management. There remains the hope that an improvement is in the
- wind. Failing that, Up in the Old Hotel will not only celebrate
- a New York that is gone. It will also recall a New Yorker that,
- like so many of the people Mitchell interviewed two generations
- ago, exists only as a wistful memory.
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