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13 of 14 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
If vaudeville were this much fun, it'd still be alive, January 26, 2002
Great literature this isn't, but grand, smart, sure-footed entertainment it is. Glen David Gold takes his readers on a twisting, rocketing roller coaster ride, and he is in full command of his effects, from the moment we step into the car until the moment it pulls to a gentle stop and we begin to breathe again.The blurbs and the opening pages contain some of the trappings of a murder mystery, in the matter of President Harding's untimely death and the puzzle of what role, if any, the world-famous magician Carter the Great had to play in it. In fact, I bought the book because I have a neighbor with whom I swap off murder mysteries every couple of months. It's not exactly a bait and switch, and the puzzle is eventually resolved, but it is a bit of misdirection. The Harding subplot forms the bookends, not the book. I found I didn't mind in the least. What we really get is more of a Bildungsroman than a whodunit: the story of Charles Carter's induction into the realm of stage magic, and the arc of his career. Along the way, Gold fully immerses us in two worlds just distant enough from us to be wonderfully exotic: the world of vaudeville in the final days before it was killed off by the talkies, and the world of the San Francisco upper crust as the twenties were beginning to roar. It's reminiscent of Michael Chabon's "Kavalier and Clay" in the way it makes us part of a small fraternity of hardscrabble entertainers in the golden age of a genre, and the way we get to feel the dirt of their trade under our fingernails. (As it happens, the two books have massively intersecting acknowledgment pages.) But it lacks the high seriousness of Chabon's work. It's also reminiscent, of course, of Ragtime, in its re-creation of an era and its free mixing of real with fictional characters. But I liked this better than Ragtime or its host of imitators. Too large a part of the appeal of such books is the thrill of hobnobbing with celebrities. Of the many delightfully particular characters from real history in "Carter," there are scarcely any I'd heard of before. Just the two aitches, Harding and Houdini. Okay, I did recognize Groucho Marx's incognito cameo, from a time before the brothers adopted their stage names, but most readers won't, and his scenes work just fine if they don't. Carter himself, his family, the rival madames of San Francisco's two classiest brothels, the teenaged inventor of television, the philanthropic borax king Francis Smith - they were all news to me. And none of the historicals is introduced to titillate the reader with a People Magazine fix; each is a pleasure to know in his or her own right, and each moves the storyline briskly along. When Mr. Gold graces us with his second novel, I will definitely be standing in line for it.
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