A Life of Privilege, Mostly

"Before I blow out your brains - what a way to talk! What melodrama! What had happened to me?" As a GI, Botsford wrestles in Europe with the demons of war...perhaps solid preparation for future traumas he would witness at home in New York. Booze, mental depression and suicide were to elite wordsmiths what heroin became to jazz musicians, and Botsfords life is touched repeatedly by the loss of his colleagues.

One expects chapters upon chapter of WASPy high society lifestyles, but Botsford indulges the reader only with a taste of his pre-war jaunts through Hotchkiss, Yale and the Ubangi Club. Neysa McMein, famous socialite and illustrator, (but not Botsfords mother as indicated in the PW review posted here) is featured: a fellow native of Quincy, Illinois, Neysa introduces the authors parents to New York. Alexander Wolcott, Genet (Janet Flanner), Wolcott Gibbs, AJ Leibling, and scores of famous New Yorker writers and editors are recounted. Naturally, Ross and Shawn, the great legends of the magazine serve as bookends to the Botsford career. But you dont have to be a great student of The New Yorker to appreciate this memoir.

Maeve Brennans insouciant letter detailing a Christmas in the Hamptons ("It will be a long day before I have house guests again.") is a scream, and worth the price of the book alone. Youll also enjoy Wolcott Gibbs 10 general rules for editing New Yorker writers. Equally amusing is Gibbs editorial answer to a book publisher in Chicago with six accompanying notes ("#4. For it was apple-blossom time in Normandy is, Im afraid, arch at best, and the ragtime beat is not appealing to the ear.")

Mr. Botsfords keen sense of humor echoes throughout the memoir. He constantly watches for those taking themselves too seriously, and finds a treasure trove of these unfortunates in the US Army, in American politics, and in the editorial corridors of New York City. Even his best friend before the war, Bill Verity, (aka, Monsieur Calvini) does not escape his wit...alas "he took up the corporate ladder, became more stone-minded, was appointed as Ronald Reagans Secretary of Commerce - he was lost forever." Those who are too officious find little room in the privileged life of Gardner Botsford. Thank you, Robert, this was a treat.