Customer Reviews

The Columnist

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

Every once in a while you find a book like The Columnist that is more than just a story. Staged as the tell it all autobiography of a Washington syndicated columnist at the nadir of his career, this short novel is both a parable of misguided egos and misplaced values and also a satire of high profile journalism. The rags to riches story of Brandon Sladder, the consummate Washington journalist is told with a reflective message. In its pages, we learn the story of a widely syndicated newspaper columnist who rose from humble beginnings as a city reporter in Buffalo to become the confidant of Presidents and senators; the most sought after dinner guest at Georgetown dinner parties; the witty and engaging TV panelist beamed into millions of American homes every week; and the inquisitive and challenging intellect in love with the power of ideas. But hold on, there is a price to be paid for such fame. In his private life, Sladder is the last to know husband; the estranged son; the forgotten friend; the distant father; and a generally dislikeable figure.

In this well written volume, author Jeffrey Franks examines the less than noble connection between politics and the press. We learn why politicians cultivate members of the press; why political positions often gain momentum with the voters because of a favorable news editor or just a photo opportunity given to a reporter. You will ask yourself whether you are a "source" or a "friend " to a reporter. Author Franks does a fine job of satirizing the fourth estate and its elite ranks. "As my column became more popular, so did I, and I found myself drawn deeper into the social life of Washington. All at once I knew everyone (occasionally I even sensed a small stir when I entered a room)..." These are the thoughts of the novel's main character on the occasion of his 29th birthday; who else could fit into a room with him given the size of that ego?

As I read this book, which at times has some very dark and disturbing passages particularly involving the daughter of the main character, I had to put it down. I can appreciate satire and cynicism with the best of them, but some of the author's attempts to skewer go too far astray to be effective parody. Washingtonians will gobble up this book looking to find some veiled reference to themselves; "journalists" (who will purchase this book but never admit owning it) will sneer at the parody. When you're finished reading this one, you'll shake your head glad that you didn't make Mr. Sladder's acquaintance.

Frankly, I am writing this review in the hope that the author, Jeffrey Frank, checks these reviews out from time to time. I know I would if I were clever enough to have written this novel. I loved every minute of it. Three members of our family read it and passed it on to one another because we were so amused by this annoying, self-serving, so-full-of-himself columnist. Even the index is a hoot. Thank you, Mr. Frank, for such great entertainment. I will never again watch the Sunday morning "talking heads" without being reminded of Brandon Sladder.

Frank's novel is short and a bit slight, but is a worthwhile read for any Washingtonian and any obsessive viewer of the Sunday morning chat shows.
In Brandon Sladder, Frank has invented a curious and fascinating antihero. He is venal, craven, and ruthless -- and utterly oblivious to all of this. As he rockets up the Washington journalistic career ladder, he genuinely seems not to know that he is crushing everyone -- family, friends, wives, mentors -- he crosses paths with. For this alone, Sladder is a character worth discovering. His characterization was the strongest part of the book.
It is also interesting to see how Sladder moved up the ranks of punditry, following a career path that rings relatively close to the truth. I did find it a shame, however, that Frank chose to portray Sladder's increasingly conservative views as a sign of his repugnance -- a bit of bias the author does not defend, and that the book did not require.

I loved this book and raced through it in two short sittings. Hilarious and wistful at the same time, Frank has near perfect pitch. Frank has E.L. Doctorow's gift for story-telling (the writing in The Columnist reminded me at times of Billy Bathgate) and Theodore Dreiser's talent for writing about raw ambition. Frank's day job as an editor at the New Yorker shines through - there is not a wasted word here. Enjoy.

For the most part, I grew up and developed my understanding of the world during the '70s and early '80s. In other words, my youth was spent in the aftermath of Watergate, Abscam, and other scandals that rocked Washington, D.C. and were somberly commented on by sonerous-voiced, grim-faced men who usually seemed to end each report by somehow working in their own close, personal friendship with John and Bobby Kennedy. This figure, who always seemed to be trying to play Jason Robards playing Ben Bradlee, became one of the most annoying cliches of my youth. As evidence of media bias became more obvious, these self-important men no longer seemed to be wise, old men [...] For anyone who agrees with those sentiments, Jeffrey Frank's The Columnist is a must read.

The novel is presented as being the memiors of political columnist Brandon Sladder who takes us through the last fifty years of American history with a remarkable, and sadly quite plausible, vacousness. The book's humor, which had my laughing out loud through most of the read, comes not from the slight plot but from the way Frank manages to perfectly capture this character in all of his pompous, self-important, and ignorant glory. In creative writing classes, we are all taught the importance of maintaining a unique "voice." This is one of the best examples of how this can be done while still managing to write an entertaining, readable novel.

For me, a perfect example of the book's subtle and truthful humor comes from Sladder's description of meeting JFK a few weeks before Kennedy's death. When JFK assures Sladder that he intends to read Sladder's columns as soon as he gets a chance, Sladder solmenly informs us, "I never found out if he kept his promise." Now, too many, that probably doesn't sound like much but to anyone who has read the preening memoirs of actual political columnists will recognize this line as one of the cherished standards of the genre. Frank's use of it punctures the self-serving arrogance of so many of those columnists. In short, it says what readers like me have always wanted to say -- "Who cares if you knew Kennedy, you irrelavent windbag!?"

Anyway, if you got the above joke, this book is definitely for you. And if you didn't, you probably won't get as much out of it but I'd suggest reading this novel anyway. Even beyond the political satire beloved by lonely political junkies like myself, this book is very funny. Its also very short and a quick read. I read it in about two hours so even if you don't love it as much as I did, at least you won't have to sacrifice a great deal of your time to disagree.

The unreliable first-person narrator of this novel of blind ambition tries to ingratiate himself with the reader with the "gentle" means he used to become one of the top news columnists in the country. We travel with him during his ascent to political and social power as he tries to downplay all the backstabbing he does to become a hot shot or what is in reality a cliche-mongering, bloviator who has no principles but can only opine in order to further his career. As with most deals with the devil, this one doesn't end the way the bargainer thought it would. We see a portrait of a sad, lonely man trying to tell us he is on top of the world.

Rumors have it that this narrator is based on a real-life news personality who shall remain nameless. Whether the rumors are true or not, I suspect this novel applies to dozens and dozens of power players who've "made it" the same way this lugubrious narrator has.

I finished my book on the first leg of a cross-country flight and was left with nothing to read for the second leg. I picked up this book in the airport bookstore and couldn't put it down.

I think we have all known someone who unknowingly causes all his own problems and is transparent to everyone but himself. Frank's character, Brandon Sladder, is just such a person, but even more so. Frank is whitty and conveys an insider's view of the nature of journalism that is convincing. Frank realizes that a character this absurd must be treated with a tongue in cheek.

I found Jeffrey Frank's portrait of a political columnist and all-round cad to be both dead-on accurate and wickedly funny. Having lived in Washington for many years, I can vouch for the book's accuracy. What's even better is Frank's adroit juggling act. Hardly a page went by that I did not laugh out loud. And yet in the end, I truly felt for this rotter and the hash he's made of his life. That's a trick few writers can pull off. Frank does it masterfully.

Page after page in this very short book presents a modern Sammy Glick as a columnist.Not an original idea .Everyone knows that Washington journalists became entertainers in the Reagan era ...So they earn ten times as much by entertaining the masses with pure 100% nonsense.Describing that from the inside would have made a smashing book . This one is a dreary one-noter about a Glickster on the make .

Well-written, funny, thoughful. A delightful book in every respect. Just the right length too -- any longer and the souffle would have fallen. A real pleasure to read. Gets a bit frayed toward the end, but so what? Buy, read, enjoy...