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BURNED-OVER DISTRICT, NY–One of the precious and few political campaigns in recent years to embody Front Porch (or, rather, front stoop) principles was Norman Mailer’s 1969 candidacy for mayor of New York City. John Buffalo Mailer, his son, has a fine essay on the old man’s run in the American Conservative (www.amconmag.com/article/2009/may/04/00014). Herewith, via First Principles, my piece on Brooklyn’s favorite fugging son:

In 1969, Norman Mailer, the dukes-up bard of Brooklyn and a self-proclaimed “left conservative,” undertook a campaign for mayor of the city that had, seven decades earlier, swallowed his borough of homes and churches. Competing in the Democratic primary against a quartet of machine hacks and standard-brand liberals, the novelist-pugilist got clobbered. What do you expect of an electorate that has filled Gracie Mansion with the likes of Abe Beame, Ed Koch, and Rudy Giuliani? But Mailer ran a race that carved out a path that we would do well to follow today. I don’t believe that any municipal campaign of the last century has been packed with such radical spirit and reactionary sense.

Mailer averred that he was to the left of the liberals and to the right of the conservatives: wisdom’s place! He diagnosed the modern malady: “The style of New York life has shifted since the Second World War (along with the rest of American cities) from a scene of local neighborhoods and personalities to a large dull impersonal style of life which deadens us with its architecture, its highways, its abstract welfare, and its bureaucratic reflex to look for government solutions which come into the city from without (and do not work)…Our authority has been handed over to the federal power. We expect our economic solutions, our habitats, yes, even our entertainments, to derive from that remote abstract power, remote as the other end of a television tube. We are like wards in an orphan asylum. The shaping of the style of our lives is removed from us—we pay for huge military adventures and social experiments so separated from our direct control that we do not even know where to begin to look to criticize the lack of our power to criticize….[O]ur condition is spiritless. We wait for abstract impersonal powers to save us, we despise the abstractness of those powers, we loathe ourselves for our own apathy.” Has any candidate in postwar America been as eloquent? (Mailer’s essay, “An Instrument for the City,” reprinted in Existential Errands, is a brilliant and shamefully neglected decentralist manifesto. If only NYC had listened to Mailer, Paul Goodman, and Dorothy Day instead of John Lindsay, Robert Moses, and the New York Times.)

The centerpiece of Mailer’s campaign was his contention that “our city must become a state.” The hour was late. “New York City is today a legislative pail of dismembered organs strewn from Washington to Albany,” he wrote, viscerally, and the only way to sew up and reanimate the corpse was through radical devolution of power. Seeking a “hip coalition of the left and right,” and understanding that his promises to “free Huey Newton [and] to end fluoridation” might not be glue enough, he proposed to make New York City the 51st state of the union. As campaign manager Joe Flaherty wrote in his hilarious account of this electoral knight errantry, Managing Mailer (1970), the novelist eschewed the trivial and tedious financial arguments and emphasized instead that “by going through the process of acquiring statehood, [New Yorkers] would have a rebirth, a rediscovery of the soul.”

There would be no inane happy-talk about the “family of New York” from Norman Mailer. He realized that “the good farmers and small-town workers of New York State rather detest us.” Rather indeed. “The connection of New York City to New York State is a marriage of misery, incompatibility, and abominable old quarrels.” His concern was properly with his own brawling grounds, but he did see a favorable fallout for we hicks as well, for going it alone could spark “the development of what has been hitherto a culturally undernourished hinterland, a typically colorless national tract.”

Yes, Niagara Falls, Cooperstown, Lake Placid, Susan B. Anthony, Grover Cleveland, Washington Irving, John Brown’s North Elba—we are cultural and scenic starvelings for sure.

“Power to the Neighborhoods!” was Mailer’s secondary slogan. (Newspaper reporter Jimmy Breslin, Mailer’s running mate as candidate for president of City Council, suggested that it be changed to “wisdom of the neighborhoods” lest the word power scare off the middle class.) Stormin’ Norman wanted to abolish the city government and permit blocks, tracts, sections to manage their own affairs. Soho, Harlem, Bensonhurst: each neighborhood would be responsible for its own welfare, trash pickup, fire protection, parks, education, policing, etc.

Out of the hard work of self-governance would come cultural renewal. “I am running on everything from Black Power to Irish Self-Righteousness,” he told an Irish Club in Park Slope. (His published speeches, with such interlarded remarks as “Shut up and fuck you! Let me talk,” will never be confused with those of Barack Obama or the Bush dynasty.) The possibilities for true diversity were dizzying: Mailer suggested that Harlem might declare a holiday for Malcolm X, while Staten Island honored John Birch. One neighborhood might require church attendance, while another mandated serial sex. As he told an audience at Union Theological Seminary in a precocious rebuke to political correctness, “People are healthier if they live out their prejudices rather than suppressing them in uniformity.”

“I’m running against urban renewal!” he exclaimed, which is to say he was on the side of beauty, poetry, sentiment, history, and, in a city which destroys everything it does not commodify, losers. His secondary planks—for instance, the Flaherty-inspired call for a world series of stickball to be played in the Wall Street area—shone with a luster that the John Lindsays and Times editorialists could not even appreciate, let alone mimic. Even his running mate didn’t get it: after a chaotic Village Gate rally, Jimmy Breslin said, “I found out I was running with Ezra Pound.” Since decentralism is the diametrical opposite of fascism—a centralized state and economy—Breslin’s Mailer-Pound comparison is on the order of linking Paris Hilton and Stephen Hawking. Hey, their surnames both begin with h, don’t they?

The election hadn’t a happy ending, but then what election does? Mailer won five percent of the Democratic primary vote, or about six times less than the winner, machine politico Mario A. Procaccino, who would go on to lose to Liberal incumbent John Lindsay. But je souviens, Norman, je souviens. Free Brooklyn!

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Bill Kauffman
Bill Kauffman was born on November 15 (also the birthday of Bobby Dandridge) in the otherwise forgettable year of 1959. He was an all-star Little League shortstop for the Lions Club Cubs but soon thereafter his talents eroded. After an idyllic childhood in his ancestral home of Batavia, New York, birthplace of Anti-Masonry, he was graduated from Batavia High School in 1977. He earned, more or less, a B.A. from the University of Rochester in 1981 and went therefrom to the staff of Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan, the only dairy farmer in the U.S. Senate. Two and a half years later he left Moynihan’s staff a bohemian Main Street anarchist who loved the Beats, the New England transcendentalists, early 20th century local colorists (Sarah Orne Jewett his Maine gal), cowpunk music, and the crazy old America. Neil Diamond and Karen Carpenter, too, but don’t tell anyone. He bummed around out west for a while, sleeping in bus stations and writing derivative poetry in Salt Lake City flophouses (nah, he’s not a Mormon, just a BYU fan) before an ill-starred year in graduate school at the UR. He took a seminar with Christopher Lasch and thought on it. In the spring of 1985 he flew west to become an assistant editor with Reason magazine. He had great fun in Santa Barbara with that crew of congenial editors drinking far into the night at Eddie Van Cleeve’s Sportsman’s Lounge, but in ’86 he flew east to become the magazine’s Washington editor. Always homesick, Kauffman persuaded his lovely and talented wife Lucine, a Los Angelena, to move back to Batavia in 1988 in what he called a “one-year experiment”—the year to be measured, apparently, in Old Testament terms. They’re still there—or, more accurately, five miles north in Elba (apt name for an exile!), where Lucine is Town Supervisor. She may well be the highest-ranking Armenian-American elected official in the country, at least until the voters of California send Cher to the U.S. Senate. Take that, Turks! Lucine and Bill have a daughter, Gretel, 17, who writes and acts and plays piano and French horn. Their lab mutt, Victoria, whose tail graces the accompanying photo, is now departed, to their sorrow, but a cat, Duffy, darts in and out of the house when the mood strikes. Bill is the author of nine books: Every Man a King (Soho Press/1989), a novel, which was recently rescued from the remainder bin by a New York Sun article proclaiming it the best political satire of the last century (the Sun thereupon set); Country Towns of New York (McGraw-Hill/1994), a travel book about God’s country; America First! Its History, Culture and Politics (Prometheus/1995), a cultural history of isolationism which Benjamin Schwarz in the Atlantic called the best introduction to the American anti-imperialist tradition; With Good Intentions? Reflections on the Myth of Progress in America (Praeger/1998), his worst-seller, a sympathetic account of critics of highways, school consolidation, a standing army, and the Siren Progress; Dispatches from the Muckdog Gazette: A Mostly Affectionate Account of a Small Town’s Fight to Survive (Henry Holt/2003; Picador ppb. 2004), a memoirish book about his hometown which won the 2003 national “Sense of Place” award from Writers & Books; Look Homeward, America: In Search of Reactionary Radicals and Front-Porch Anarchists (ISI/2006), which the American Library Association named one of the best books of 2006 and which won the Andrew Eiseman Writers Award; Ain’t My America: The Long Noble History of Antiwar Conservatism and Middle American Anti-Imperialism (Henry Holt/ Metropolitan/2008), which Barnes & Noble named one of the best books of 2008; Forgotten Founder: Drunken Prophet: The Life of Luther Martin (ISI/2008), a biography of a brilliant dipsomaniacal Anti-Federalist who warned us this was gonna happen; and Bye Bye, Miss American Empire (Chelsea Green/2010), a cheerful account of dissolution. Bill is a regular contributor to the Wall Street Journal and a columnist for The American Conservative. He has written for numerous publications, including The American Scholar, the Los Angeles Times Book Review, The Nation, Chronicles, the Independent and The Spectator of London, Counterpunch, Orion, University Bookman, and Utne Reader. He is vice president of the Genesee County Baseball Club, which owns the Batavia Muckdogs of the New York-Penn Baseball League. Come summertime, he can be found in the 3rd base bleachers at Dwyer Stadium. He is also active in the officerless (of course) John Gardner Society. Bill is more handsome than the photo on this site would suggest. See books written by Bill Kauffman.

9 COMMENTS

  1. Mailer was on to something I have believed for a long time. The government that works best is the one that is literally closest to the people. How about right across the street? Decentralization, community standards and responsibility allow for individuals to flourish within communities of mutual interest. Communitarian politics needs a fair hearing. However, communitarian politics is contingent on an economic system that allows the small enterprise to prosper. With the Wallmarting of America such an economic system is unlikely. There is now some hope. With the economic meltdown of large scale business an opportunity may arise for the revitalization of the local in all its wonder. Power to the neighborhoods!

  2. As Transport Workers Union of America President Mike Quill said :”I don’t give a damn about John “Lindslay”. Mailer and the beloved Breslin might have run a decent and amusing campaign but they lost soundly when compared to the other manic bard, Hunter S. Thompson’s miraculous near upset for Aspen County Sheriff on the anarchic Freak Power Ticket. The smooth boy swells of tony Aspen were petrified that this nut who liked to shoot guns indoors and broadcast Screaming Sows from loudspeakers mounted on his Red Shark chevy might actually win. The scare alone was worth it.

    Would that we might have a campaign like these two in this programmed, polled, monied and farcical age of “political action”. Would that we actually had scrappy writers like these two for this nancy boy era of have a nice day grabass. We shall refrain from dwelling on that little prison pen pal episode.

    Brooklyn remains the uber -local and may Walter O’Malley be running a soccer league in the third ring of Hell.

  3. A charming piece. Mailer’s left conservatism still surprises me. I read “The Castle in the Forest” and was happy-but surprised-to hear Mailer offer a somewhat approving take on Nicholas II and the Hapsburgs in Austria.

  4. Bill,

    Thank you, I remember the campaign, it was one of the best NYC has seen. I think it was the last hurrah of “old New York” as I remember the town.

    The secession/51st state has remained viable in some quarters. If I was a NYC resident I would be concerned about the percentage of my taxes that were redistributed “Upstate.”

    Mailer was right about urban renewal and the neighborhoods. As I recall, Mailer also opposed the destruction of the old Penn Station. Fortunately, Moses didn’t his way regarding the LOMEX and other expressways that would have bisected Manhattan island! (The 1964 World’s Fair in Flushing, Queens was his last big project.) Quite a few of the older building were destroyed to make room for concrete monstrosities.

    He was 100% right regarding the War in Iraq:

    ” “Fascism is more of a natural state than democracy. To assume blithely that we can export democracy into any country we choose can serve paradoxically to encourage more fascism at home and abroad. Democracy is a state of grace that is attained only by those countries who have a host of individuals not only ready to enjoy freedom but to undergo the heavy labor of maintaining it.”–N. Mailer

    I believe that the same sentiment would apply to the current situation in Af-Pak.

  5. Too bad the city didn’t heed Mailer’s plan to stop fluoridation which cost NYC $24 million in 2008, alone. Organized dentistry claims that for every dollar spent on fluoridation, $38 is save. Yeah right.

    New York City low income residents have bombed out teeth and dentists won’t treat Medicaid patients so it’s off to the emergency room at ten times the cost of a simple filling, on the taxpayer’s dime.

    Meanwhile, the city keeps fluoridation but plans to cut many dental clinics, saving $2.4 million, while unfilled tooth decay is rampant and fluoride is not reducing tooth decay.

    See Fluoridation Fails New York
    http://www.freewebs.com/fluoridation/fluoridationfailsnewyork.htm

    Adverse health effects of fluoride
    http://www.FluorideAction.Net/health

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