Customer Reviews

The Tender Bar: A Memoir

5 star:		(136)
4 star:		(40)
3 star:		(17)
2 star:		(6)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

This is one of those books that paralyzes the reviewer in its beauty. What can I say to convince you to read this book? Ideally, I'd just highlight every single line and make you read it.

It is nearly impossible to pin down one theme Moehringer's memoir is about: Fatherless boys? Working class moms trying to make ends meet? The search for a father figure in a crowd of bartenders? The genesis of a journalist, of a writer? The life of a blue-collar Yalie? Determining one's purpose in life? An intense character study of men in a bar? The rebellion of a son against his mom's intense love and support? Society's love affair with alcohol? In the end, this memoir is all of this and so much more, told in marvelous prose.

The author biography in the back jacket flap reveals that Moehringer is a Pulitzer Prize winner and national correspondent for the Los Angeles Times. These facts will help buoy the reader when our author is failing out of Yale, failing at life, or struggling to get promoted beyond his hard-won copyboy position at the New York Times. Moehringer searches for purpose, reason, motivations, and positive reinforcement (other than from his mother). He especially struggles with his unpublished novel, which he worked on for close to a decade (and which I suspect became the basis for his memoir, since the novel was reportedly largely autobiographical).

This is one of those books one needs to own, for the underlining of critical passages and literary references to review again later. Be prepared to get intimate with the tough, ruddy-faced bartenders and barkeeps of Publicans (especially Uncle Charlie, who I have known in another body in my own life), and to put Steve's bar on the list of places to visit before you die.

Take one part CHARMING BILLY, a dash of Frank McCourt, add a shot of "Cheers," serve straight up, and you'll have the charming concoction that is THE TENDER BAR. J.R. Moehringer fondly reflects on his youth, however misspent, within the cooling shadows of the town's local bar.

In Manhasset, the place to go was Dickens (later renamed Publicans) on Plandome Road. Like the pubs of old, it was the place to celebrate, commiserate and pontificate. Sooner or later, everyone wound up at its door, thanks largely to its kind and commanding owner, Steve. In the mid-seventies, J.R. Moehringer was an adolescent badly in need of a father figure. His dedicated mother worked as many as three jobs to keep them on their feet. His grandparents were concerned but somewhat distant; his grandfather was downright abusive to everyone except little J.R., who was so named after his father, a radio disc jockey who has little to do with his son. Moehringer listens to his late-night radio broadcasts and refers to him only as "The Voice," a far away, unknowable being who flits in and out of his young son's life only briefly.

When he and his mother move to Arizona for better prospects and to be near their cousins, he finds himself lonelier than ever. His mother decides to send him back to his grandparents in Manhasset for the summer, and soon he gets his first taste of life around the bar. His Uncle Charlie, at his mother's request, starts taking little J.R. with him on excursions to the beach and to ball games, all of which culminate with a visit to "the Bar."

Finally, he finds what he has been looking for --- a family, albeit an unconventional one. Who wouldn't want to glean all he can from guys named Bobo, Joey D. and Colt? At long last, Moehringer feels as if he belongs somewhere; rather than bemoan his absent father, he finds many other men --- and in essence, the bar itself --- who step into the role of father for him.

Poignant and heartfelt, with just the right amount of sentimentality, THE TENDER BAR is an absorbing read that goes down nice and easy. Moehringer skillfully recreates life at the local bar and the colorful characters inside as a sort of celebration, almost memorializing a part of American life that doesn't exist the way it used to --- a sort of modern-day A CLEAN, WELL-LIGHTED PLACE for the 20th/21st century, while also serving as a homage to the powerful love between a mother and son, struggling to get by but still managing to enjoy a "Happy Hour" now and then.

--- Reviewed by Bronwyn Miller

Just finished reading 'The Tender Bar'.

"Wow" is not a strong enough word for this insight into humanity.

Maybe because of my friendship with McGraw, my growing up in taverns in southern Illinois, my over thirty years of international bartending and my over 5,000 Beverage/Literature library I might be a little more inclined to like this work that uses a drinking establishment as a vehicle to tell a story of growing up.

Moehringer reminds me of Pete Hamil, Art Buchwald and Malichi McCourt but with a more modern honesty for putting his gonads and family disruptions on the bar for all to see. Hopefully in another book my long list of questions about what happened to the great folks in his story will be answered.

Boy, did this old St. Louis bartender identify with Uncle Charlie.

If you are in the liquor industry or have ever been associated with saloons you will have one of your best reads in many, many years.

Thanks J.R., I'm waiting for your next books.

Unlike two other reviewers, I don't know the author, the bar, the characters or the town. But I did bring up a boy (teenaged now) as a single mom so I guess that's my big connection. I LOVED this book. Mr. Moehringer has written about his family and friends in a way that just rings true. Having read many of the painful memoirs so popular in recent years, I found The Tender Bar refreshing in it's honesty, simplicity and most of all in it's humor. No families are normal, all families give you something, we all must rise above and find our own way, just like JR has.

I can't remember the last time I was so spellbound by a book. No one could talk to me while I was reading it--and I took my time finishing, because I didn't want it to end. It's sad, it's funny, it introduces characters I will never forget. It's both gorgeously written and page-turning. I can't pick a favorite scene--Bill and Budd, the agoraphobic booksellers? The father-son breakfast? The mad chase on Camelback Mountain? Mr. Salty? And the Epilogue blew me away. Read it and make everyone you know do the same.

The Tender Bar by J.R. Moehringer tells a story about relationships and about what is worth wanting and all that is in between. It is simple, deep, and honest and even sometimes breathtaking in its earnestness to capture what makes us human, tender, fallible, and whole. I was stunned at times by both its spontaneous humor and pathos and found myself laughing out loud in public places while reading this memoir as well as suddenly welling up with tears with yet the turn of another page. There is a depth that caught me off guard, everytime. This is one of those books that I will carry with me in my heart and in my head for a long time to come and I have not felt that way about a story in a very, very long time.

Generally, I like to stay away from nonfiction it usually bores me. Fortunately I did not stay away from this book. It was amazing! This book will stay with me for a long time, with its humor and its tragedy. As soon as I finished this book I shoved it into my mothers hands and said read this, she loved it just as much as I. I HIGHLY recommend this book to anyone interested in a great story this is wonderfully written.

I grew up in Manhasset, am the same age as the author, either knew - or knew of - some of the people in the book and likely crossed paths with him at the tetherball courts at Shelter Rock Elementary School.

It's a treat to read any book that is enjoyable, touching and life-affirming, but especially sweet for this reader when the edges of your own memories are given colorful, mythical life through the voice of a talented writer.

During my formative years, Publican's (and the earlier, slightly dingier Dickens) was the central gathering hole for Manhasset - a restaurant as well as a bar (great Surf and Turf). On any given night you were sure to bump into a classmate, a neighbor or even a teacher (this is true today, although the current Edison's is a faint substitute for the much more colorful bar that preceded it. I even recall his Uncle Charlie, in a particularly bad mood, tending bar around 9 years ago). 9/11 changed our hometown dramatically - like many others - making memories of life there in the last few decades that much more cherished - even when the story is a unique and personal one.

For any reader, I think this memoir holds universal truths and immediate emotions, and the author has a unique way of pulling you into his life, making his friends and family familiar, flawed and real. You'll be missing everyone by the last page.

JR, thanks for this wonderful coming-of-age story, for allowing us to see what life was like for you some 10 blocks up the road, and for presenting our hometown as the engaging, complicated, colorful, nurturing and human place that it is.

With all the hubbub going on in the world today both globally and personally, a dark bar with a receptive and smart bartender serving good booze and tasty, greasy, salty appetizers along with a knowledge and opinion on a wide range of subjects is an oasis for many men.The world of the mostly men's bar is a world without women even though many of the men who go there are married or attached, it is not a place for your significant other. What it is, is a place for a man to complain about women, give their opinions about women without recourse and generally act a fool. It's mostly about Sports, Politics and World events. It is often the last bastion of male camaraderie in our contemporary world of girls wanting to join the Boy Scouts. Male bars come in all shapes and sizes and can, of course be Gay, Straight, Yuppie (and its various offshoots) or Country: Alaska has them as does Rhode Island.
J.R. Moehringer's memoir "The Tender Bar' is about this world and his place in it and what he gained and lost because of it: "Everyone has a holy place, a refuge, where their heart is purer, their mind clearer, where they feel closer to God or love or truth or whatever it is they happen to worship. For better or worse my holy place was Steve's bar." Steve's ( later re-named Publicans),and the regulars there (Cager, Uncle Charlie, Steve, etc.) become J.R.'s surrogate fathers: they teach him responsibility, honor, how to conduct himself as a gentleman...and frankly how and what to drink and when yo check yourself and stop. His Uncle Charlie in particular takes a keen interest in J.R. and though Charlie's life is far from perfect, counsels him on love, women and college.
J.R.'s main beef is that his father is gone but not completely out of reach: his father is a disc jockey and JR reverently listens to "The Voice" nightly: "The Voice was mine. As my dependence grew, so did my tolerance, until it was no longer enough merely to listen. I began talking back. I'd tell The Voice about school, Little League, my mother's health...if I timed it just right-listening when The Voice was speaking, speaking when The Voice was not-it almost felt like a conversation." On the surface this is humorous stuff but ultimately it is real, sad and very touching.
All boys/men have a special relationship with their fathers, of this there is no doubt and when J.R. actually meets his father later in the book, it is cathartic for both he and us: "The feel of my father, the thrilling width of him, the scent of his hair spray and cigarettes and the whiskey he drank on the plane made me weak. More than his feel and smell, the fact of him staggered me."
Unfortunately, because of the James Frey-irization of the Memoir form, I found myself doubting the veracity of a couple scenes in this book: J.R.'s exchange with a priest on a train for one seems too pat, too obvious, and too convenient. ("People don't realize how many men it takes to build one good man"). But as far as I am concerned, the Memoir has more to do with how we remember, i.e...interpret scenes/events in our life and not a stenographic recall of exact words and actions.
"The Tender Bar" is rich with the detail of a life fondly and of course tenderly recalled: it is funny, sad, silly and Moehringer makes it important to us because it is important to him. "There is strength in the union of even very sorry men," Homer wrote thousands of years ago and Moehringer quotes him here and how apt a quote it is for, though as foreign and mystical to some people as a harem in Algeria, the men's bar was and is one of the few places in which men can relax, let their collective hair down, meet up with friends, have a strong drink and hopefully engage in elegant,intelligent and involving conversation

This is a memoir of a man from a dysfunctional family - or at least that is how he portrayed it. He has a loser of a father who abandons him and a mother who does all she can for him with complete love and affection. Despite his constant portrayal of his life as one of a loser he is accepted to Yale. Despite his portrayal of himself as a terrible student, he graduates. He is also in and out of an immature relationship with the campus beauty - not exactly loser status.

At one point he is riding a train from New haven to NYC and is sitting across from a priest. At one point the priest tells him that he should become a writer because he is such a great whiner. The priest had it right.

That is the short-coming of the book - the author's constant whining.

Once past that, however, there are some absolutely terrific characters from the bar that centers the memoir. The author draws them so well, the reader feels as if he knows them - or at least would ike to spend a few evenings in a bar, at the beach, at the track or at a ballgame with them. There are some side-splitting hilarious scenes and the dialogue is terrific.

Moehringer captures the wisdom of these men (and a few women) who seemingly reside in Publicans, the favorite bar of Manhasset. This is an ode to the wit and wisdom of blue collar and white collar guys who love to hang out and most importantly, love words. It is that love of words and books that is the common thread that probably led the author into his career of writing.

I wish the author had honed the book down. Getting rid of 50-60 pages of his self-pitying whining would have made this a great book. The portrayals of the men in his life from his teens into his twenties was loving, poignant, humorous and memorable, yet realistic as it displayed the ills of alcohol abuse along the way. Had the book been limited to those portrayals and his relationships with those men, it would have been terrific.

Worth the read, but beware, there are times when you will want to scream "Oh! Just shut up!!" Rest assured that those pages will be followed by witty and wise banter at the bar.