I recently completed reading 56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports (Sports Illustrated: 2011). The story, by Kostya Kennedy, is not a novel, but Kennedy's treatment of Joe DiMaggio's feat reads a lot like fiction. More than just a simple retelling of one of baseball's greatest endeavours, Kennedy interjects the story with the mood and feel of the times.
Baseball, during the summer of 1941, took place while the world outside of America was at war. And the threat of America's involvement grew with each day. Kennedy's narration of the streak is interjected with headlines of the day, both internationally and nationally, so that his narration of each game during the streak is put in context. And, along with what is going on in Europe or Asia, are sprinklings of what the average fan thought about Joe and what was happening in the ballpark. Particularly interesting are Kennedy's tales of a gang of kids in the Bronx and the relationship between Joe and his first wife, Dorothy Arnold.
Now, I've read a few comments that Kennedy plays a little loose with some of the facts, or that his editors were not as sharp as they should have been (English monarchs are crowned at Westminster Abbey, not Westminster Hall), but these small things are easily overlooked when considering the bits about Wee Willie Keeler, about Joe's style of hitting (flat-footed with little stride), or insights from Pete Rose about his attempt at the record. It's these little sidenotes that ground the reader in reality - pulling you back into the present from that world of 70 years ago. 56 is an entertaining read, and Kennedy's style of writing makes it seem as if you are reading a fictionalized account - one that brings out the suspense and the sights and sounds of that summer in New York. In Kennedy's story, the streak is more than DiMaggio's endeavour, but how it touched so many people at the time.
This being Hall-of-Fame weekend, I thought it appropriate to take a look at Kevin King's All the Stars Came out That Night (Plume: 2006). King's historical novel takes us down a Depression-era road filled with famous personalities who come together for an All-Star game in Fenway Park following the World Series. What makes this game of All-Stars different is that it pits white major-leaguers against their Negro League counterparts. King paints a vivid picture of the period, featuring gambling, prohibition, famous movie stars, and even a Central American dictator. At times, though, you do feel that King is name-dropping (especially when the scene switches to lavish Hollywood parties), but since this is a debut novel a degree of leeway can be granted. Even so, this is an entertaining, quick-paced, and overall fun read. If there is anything non-forgivable, it's suggestion by several characters of various players and their Hall of Fame chances. The novel is set in 1934 and it wasn't until 1939 that the newly formed Hall of Fame started inducting players.
Being someone interested in history (as well as baseball), what I found particularly interesting was the descriptions of the various non-baseball characters such as Henry Ford and George Raft. King presents Ford as the racist businessman who becomes persuaded to bankroll the game. Raft is the movie icon who has “discovered” a rising star in the Pacific Coast League named Joe DiMaggio and eventually enables his participation in the game. Added to these characters are, of course, the baseball players: Satchel Paige, Babe Ruth, Josh Gibson, Dizzy Dean, and Joe DiMaggio, along with a host of others. Each add their spin to the events.
While some reviewers have commented on the length of this book (over 400 pages), I found the ancillary accounts interesting and worth including. My thought is if you’re going to write a period piece, then include descriptions of the period. I find the historical novels I like best are those that are developed like a painting: with details woven into both the fore- and background of the subject. In this way, the result is a richer and more colorful presentation. A level of context is created, and maintained. The only downside is that by the time King gets around to it, he seems to quicken the pace and the ending comes across a bit condensed.
Now, in the end, would it have been possible that such a game could have been played? Probably not. While the Major Leagues did a wink and a nod toward its players barnstorming against, and with, African American players during the off-season, actually allowing a game between the League’s best and that of the Negro Leagues would have exposed the all-white league to what it was and what it was missing. Baseball of the first half of the twentieth century was a product of its time. And while there’s current sentiment that the Game should have been integrated, the country just wasn’t ready. But that’s what makes the premise so interesting, and creates the basis for a good yarn.
***********
This weekend saw the induction of Whitey Herzog and Andre Dawson (as well as umpire Doug Harvey) into the Hall of Fame. Congratulations to each of these men. They are certainly worthy additions to the Hall.
I recently completed reading 56: Joe DiMaggio and the Last Magic Number in Sports (Sports Illustrated: 2011). The story, by Kostya Kennedy, is not a novel, but Kennedy's treatment of Joe DiMaggio's feat reads a lot like fiction. More than just a simple retelling of one of baseball's greatest endeavours, Kennedy interjects the story with the mood and feel of the times.
