New York in the Fifties

I arrived in New York in 1967 and had a feeling I’d just missed something. Of course, whenever you arrive in New York you’ve just missed something. (People who arrived after I did were similarly awed by what I got to participate in and witness.) In any case, New York in the Fifties always conjured to me the fervent culture and conversation that was famously not happening in most of the rest of America those days. Wakefield wasn’t there for everything. He says very little about my particular interests in theater and TV drama in NY then. But he paints an exhilarating group portrait of mostly journalists and novelists at the time. Chapter ten, in particular, is a joy. I sensed the difference between his generation and my experience in the amount of space he gave to psychoanalysis and drinking, neither of which had much place in my life. But, more than anything I’ve read, this conveys the life of freelance writing in the city, and it puts specifics to what I had just missed. Wakefield ultimately left New York. More than 50 years later, I’m still here.

This is a really interesting book about New York in the age of Eisenhower, Elvis and Joe McCarthy. From the vantage point of the 21st century, Wakefield's Big Apple almost seems like another planet but his enthusiasm for the fifties and the city makes me wish I had been there. He covers a wide variety of subjects including Freudian analysis, which had a near religious following at the time, drinking, friendship and hanging out with literary stars of the period like C. Wright Mills, Joan Dideon and James Baldwin. Wakefield's riffs on the jazz scene serve as a literary sound track for the book. Having researched and written about sports in the 1950s, I found Wakefield's rendering of other areas of the fifties completely engrossing.The author's main theme is that the 1950s provided a cultural divide and a reading of a book like Willie Morris' NEW YORK DAYS, about the city in the 1960s, supports Wakefield's contention. All and all, this is an enjoyable, nostalgic reading experience.

I am reading and enjoying this book. But there is one thing that is making me kind of crazy. Wakefield keeps talking about Stan Kenton’s Manhattan Towers. I grew up listening to an album called Manhattan Tower by Gordon Jenkins — my parents loved it. They also liked Kenton. None of us have ever heard of, nor can we find, a Kenton version. No big deal. But I can’t help wondering if Wakefield got other things wrong. Sorry to nitpick. It’s a good book worth your time.

I've never been to New York, but I hope that when I finally touch down, I get to experience a sliver of Dan Wakefield's Big Apple.From his entrance to Columbia University to his time in Greenwich Village and debauched nights at the White Horse Tavern, Wakefield's memoir sheds light on one of NYC's most fertile epochs. His anecdotes concerning writers and artists of the age are witty, insightful, and, at times, hilarious. But, I found this book to be more than just an ode to an era. Occasionally, the city is portrayed as a secondary character, with Wakefield touching upon his sexual awakenings, his maturity into a man, and taking us along his journey of personal discovery. By doing so, he forms a layered connection with the reader, regardless of their feelings toward the city.A highly recommended read for transportation to the world's cultural epicenter during America's most "innocent" time.

Very nostalgic for me having been at Columbia from 1958-62. Being from a small town hinterland, it was all new, strange and exciting. I was drawn to all the places he went. I only intended to stay one year but that barely scratches the surface. I stayed for four and was completely changed. Magical place. Now gone.

Engaging but occasionally flat

More of an autobiography of an accomplished but repressed writer. Touts a lot of his liberal buddies.

If you love New York, this is a must read for a Boomer. Wakefield's writing is wonderful, andI love all the references to the city & people.