The Gay Place's reputation as the greatest novel about Texas politics ever written was well-deserved. Somehow I got reminded strongly of J.D. Salinger when I was reading this, even though the authors couldn't be more difficult in many ways. I just got that feeling that comes from reading good writing, that sense of smooth narrative flow and apt characterization, the deft humanistic touch and avoidance of tedious writing clichés, that I got in the best parts of Salinger's stuff. From the lack of similar connections by other reviewers, I guess I might have been the only person to feel that way, but apparently Brammer once wrote a short satire of the Kennedy Administration called Glooey based on Salinger's Franny and Zooey, so it's probably more than just a coincidence. Anyway, this is Billy Lee Brammer's only novel, and much like John Kennedy O'Toole's similar situation (or Salinger's, come to think of it), that tragic paucity of output is a black mark on the record of American literature.

This is an immensely strong set of three interconnected novellas set in the political scene of 50s Austin, and its boozy, lurid portrayal of the era appears to have benefited from Brammer's history as a member of Lyndon Johnson's staff and circle of confidantes (at least until it was published and Brammer found himself exiled). This is one of the best examples of the "political novel" - each novella has a slightly different set of characters orbiting around the inscrutable dark star of LBJ stand-in Arthur Fenstermaker, whose presence is mostly felt and not seen as everyone drinks heavily and has existential crises and sleeps with each other at will. However, even though politics is the novel's setting and driver of the plot, actual political issues make only very brief, perfunctory appearances. It's really about how all these people deal with the wreckage of their lives and how powerless they feel even as they help Fenstermaker cope with events and run the state, with truly awesome amounts of drinking and cheating along the way. This works well, because it's vastly entertaining without having to spend time on boring things like tax policy.

The first story, The Flea Circus, follows Willie, a drunken journalist who edits a paper Fenstermaker likes, and Roy Sherwood, a politician who gets involved in a bribery scandal and is sleeping with Ouida, an associate's estranged wife. The second story, Room Enough to Caper, follows Neil Christiansen, a drunk and US Senator Fenstermaker appointed to fill out a term who has to decide if he wants to run for a full term of his own or leave politics entirely, while he also decides whether to reconcile with his estranged wife Andrea or pursue Elsie, a young girl who works in a bookstore he owns. The third story, Country Pleasures, follows Ray McGown, Fenstermaker's frequently drunk chief assistant, who has to manage the filming of a political film out in the country and decide whether to return to his daughter and estranged wife Vicki, who's also at the ranch, or just get with Sarah, one of Fenstermaker's secretaries.

I've made it sound repetitive but it isn't at all - Brammer draws each portrait beautifully, smoothly jumping from person to person over the chapters to emphasize different parts of each story and capture what life was like for people in the antechambers of power. I also appreciated the skillful contrast between the pitch-perfect vernacular of the dialogue, which is a hilarious mix of exaggerated Texan buffoonery and alcoholic meanderings, and the complex poetry of everyone's interior monologues, which are full of dark worryings and secret longings. Brammer could flat-out write, especially when it comes to Fenstermaker's apocalyptic Biblicisms, and he switches from comic to serious register with effortless ease. I also enjoyed whenever the female characters got their own POV sections; Texas politics back then might have been a macho, full-contact sport, but all the women here really filled out the story and showed a different side of all the scheming and maneuvering. Certainly after you finish it you're forced to think a bit on the relationship between these very flawed people and their dedication to a life of politics.

Speaking of flawed people in politics, the scandalous behavior described here supposedly hit so close to home that Brammer, who had written for the Texas Observer before LBJ recruited him, was never able to get back into Johnson's good graces, and he eventually died of a drug overdose after being unable to recapture the literary peak he reached here. And what a peak: as a description of Austin during that time (locals will easily recognize places like Scholz Garten), it is unmatched, and the only other political novel in its class is Robert Warren's All the King's Men. Knowing the sad ending to his own personal story gives the ending to the book an extra resonance. ( )

The characters driving this book are cunning, funny, likeable (some), and they smell like sweat, beer and mesquite smoke, like true Texas politicos.
The 'Gay Place,' btw, is Scholz's Beer Garden, still there on San Jacinto Blvd, where the Republicans gathered inside and the Democrats drank in the Garden. Although it's of average size, the book feels big, maybe because the characters are so large. Here's a quick look at one of them: "They sat across from him and stared. Fenstemaker pinched his nose, moved a big hand over his face as if probing for minute flaws in a piece of pottery. He rubbed his eyes, sucked his teeth, punched holes in a sheet of bond paper with a gold toothpick. He stood and paced about the room and stared out the windows and scratched himself. 'Well goddam and hell. . .' he said. It was like a high mass, a benediction.
'Let me do you a favor, Willie,' he said.
'What kind of favor?'
'I don't know. anything you ask. I just want to get you obligated,' the Governor said, grinning and winking at Roy." . . .

No wonder Ronnie Dugger's cover blurb calls this "the best book ever written on Lyndon Johnson." ( )

The Gay Place consists of three interlocking novels that dip in and out of the lives of a group of Texas state legislators, one very junior senator, a series of wives, girlfriends, students, and journalists, and one very LBJ-like governor named Arthur "Goddamn" Fenstemaker. And the book is amazing. Brammer draws a picture of late 1950s Austin and the rising tide of young liberals in Texas politics with a keen eye and a light touch. Although some characters have a tendency to be clichéd, they are clichéd in exactly the way that politicians (and especially Texas politicians) work their cliché-magic. Even more than the politics, Brammer gives us an engrossing story of complicated men and women who drink too much, fall into bed too easily, and fail over and over again to attain the ideals they set for themselves, but somehow keep forgiving each other and trying all over again. And yet, even though depressing things happen all the time, the book as a whole isn't depressing at all. The writing is strong and varied, the dialogue spot-on, and the characters and plot have kept me thinking about this book for days and days.

[full review here: http://spacebeer.blogspot.com/2009/03/gay-place-1961.html ] ( )