The Last Book I Read

In a weird coincidence, I've been reading William Knoedelseder's I'm Dying Up Here: Heartbreak and High Times in Standup Comedy's Golden Era as the big late-night battle involving Jay Leno, Conan O'Brien and to a lesser extent David Letterman has been playing out all over the TV. As it happens, Leno and Letterman are key figures in Knoedelseder's narrative of the early days of Hollywood's Comedy Store, the showcase venue that was instrumental in launching each of their careers (along with many other now well-known comics). Even moreso than in I Killed (notice a common element in the titles?), this book conveys something of the esprit de corps that defined the standup scene in the late seventies, and how that community feeling fomented both material and career opportunities-- not all of which were enjoyed equally by the denizens of that scene. Knoedelseder tells the story of how the comics united to force club owners like the Comedy Store's Mitzi Shore to actually pay them for their performances. Prior to a comedians' strike to force the issue, Shore and others claimed their open stages allowed the comics to showcase their talent for bookers, producers, and others who would come through with paying gigs, if the comic's talent warranted-- in other words, while the owners cleaned up on cover charges and bar tabs, the actual performers were expected to work for free in return for the exposure. Meanwhile, some of them were living in their cars while waiting for their big break. The author was a journalist covering the entertainment beat at the time in LA, and draws on his acquaintance with many of the main players to flesh out the details of the battle as it unfolded, including a fair amount of the personal anguish it engendered as sides were taken and longstanding friendships were strained. It's a compelling, quick read, and in its attempt to pay some attention to the psychological dimension of the profession as well as reporting on the gritty reality of the struggling comic's lot in life, it bears comparison to Phil Berger's classic study The Last Laugh (which covers a much wider time frame). It's certainly more cohesive than I Killed, but then the books really set different goals for themselves. I should note that there is very little funny stuff in this book either, but that hardly detracts from the reportage. I suspect the next book in my pile (George Carlin's posthumous autobiography) will up the laugh quotient considerably as I continue on my current comedy reading kick.