Schonungslos und messerscharf geht Dorothy Parker die Frauen an. Sie erzählt in zahlreichen Kurzgeschichten wie es der holden Weiblichkeit in der Großstadt der 1920er und 30er ergeht.

Es ist immer schwierig, eine Rezension zu einer Kurzgeschichtensammlung zu schreiben. In diesem Fall ist es unmöglich jeder Geschichte an sich gerecht zu werden. Insgesamt werden in "New Yorker Geschichten" dreißig Kurzgeschichten von Dorothy Parker zusammengefasst. Verbindende Thematik dieser Geschichten ist die holde Weiblichkeit, die in vielen Facetten zu tragen kommt.

In erster Linie hat es Dorothy Parker auf die verwöhnten Damen abgesehen. Mit äußerst spitzer Zunge rechnet sie mit den Frauen der New Yorker Gesellschaft ab, die sich mit dem Chamagnerglas in der rechten Hand von einem Herren zum nächsten schwingen, um dem Zwang einer Berufstätigkeit zu entgehen.

Oberflächlich betrachtet könnte man die Autorin fast boshaft nennen, so wie sie das Leben dieser Frauen beschreibt. Allerdings prangert sie die Abhängigkeit der Frauen vom männlichen Geschlecht an. Sie zeigt, wie eingesperrt - egal ob in der Ehe oder in der vom Geliebten finanzierten Wohnung - viele Damen sind.

"Wenn das nicht die Musterfrau gibt! Immer tun, was irgendwer anders will, ob's dir passt oder nicht. Und nie fähig, mal eine eigene Idee auch nur zu murmeln." (S. 155)

Es sind dreißig Geschichten über Geliebte, Ehefrauen und solche, die es werden wollen, schöne Mädchen und gediegene Damen - die von einer Abendveranstaltung zur nächsten hetzen.

Mir haben Dorothy Parkers "New Yorker Geschichten" gut gefallen. Manche Geschichten haben mich mehr inspiriert als andre, was bei diesem Umfang bestimmt der Regel entspricht.

Berührt hat mich, dass die Autorin zeigt, wie sehr Frauen für ihre Unabhängigkeit kämpfen müssen, wie rasch aus einer sanften Liebe Abhängigkeit wird, und wie boshaft das weibliche Geschlecht oft gegenseitig zueinander ist.

Parkers Schreibstil empfinde ich als wohlgeformt, auf elegante Art provokant und manchmal ein bisschen anzüglich. Sie überzeugt durch einen klaren Blick, ihre schneidende Zunge und eine faszinierende Boshaftigkeit, die sie meist durch das Ende der einzelnen Geschichten entschärft. 

Meiner Meinung nach hat Dorothy Parker eine Sammlung vollendeter Boshaftigkeit geschaffen, die mit den Frauen abrechnet und den Männern die Rechnung präsentiert.

„New Yorker Geschichten“ ist für Leser, die sich für Frauen der gehobeneren Gesellschaft der 1920er- und 30er-Jahre interessieren und Feminismus auf boshaft-elegantem Niveau erlesen wollen.

After my last post of a few days' ago I went to my local bookseller and picked up a copy of a copy of her selected works. Since Friday evening I've been dipping into her short essays and critical writings, with occasional forays into her poems.

Damn, can she write!

In a way, having read some of her best lines separate from her works has dampened their effect for me, as they can feel like a recycled punchline. Yet within the context of their overall review they can gain a new power, like the knockout blow in a match or a fatal cut delivered in the midst of a sword fight that only becomes evident once the duel is over. Because there is something to her critical analysis that gets lost when defined by a few cherry-picked lines, as they only form the sharp edge of a devastating assessment.

What makes them so particularly impressive, though, is how well they stand up on their own, decades after the performances of plays no longer staged and the publication of books no longer in print. I don't have to see or read the works she reviews to enjoy the acidity of her assessments. This makes them literature in their own right, which I plan to turn to often for a good laugh and to remember how fantastic critical writing can be when done well.

It's probably not a good statement about me that some of my favorite writing is criticism, and nobody did it better than Dorothy Parker. Some of her best quips (such as "Crude is the name of Robert Hyde’s first novel. It is also a criticism of it.") were born in critiques of plays, novels, and other works. and I find that reading them never fails to make me laugh. This is why I find it incomprehensible that while collections exist of Parker;s short stories and poems, there is no collection of her criticism. The closest thing to it is a 500-page collection of her reviews of Broadway plays from 1918 until 1923. This is a travesty, akin to not having a complete edition of Mark Twain's short stories or Arthur Miller's plays.

Instead, I have to settle for what's available in the selected collections of her writings that include her criticism. There's really one one of these: a collection originally published by Viking in 1944 that has since gone through several updates, the most recent being in 2006. I would be more accepting of it if I hadn't read that some of her critical pieces (such as her review of Nan Britton's The President's Daughter) were left out of the latest revision, It makes me pine even more for a complete edition that captures the delicious acidity of her pen; until then I'll have to settle and make do with the scraps at hand.

Dorothy Parker was a real person of 1920’s fame, but this is not historical fiction, per se.  It is more about Norah Wolfe who works for TV talk show, Simon Janey Live.  The company is failing and if they don’t soon secure a phenomenal interview with someone ultra-famous, the show will be cancelled.  When Norah was thirteen, she’d read Dobson’s Night by famous author, Ted Shriver.  The story resonated so much with her, she became obsessed with him.  But several years ago, he seemed to drop off the face of the earth after a scathing accusation of plagiarism.  She now knows he’s hiding out in a room at the Algonquin Hotel.  She also knows he’s gone there to die as a brain tumor ravages his mind.  She knows … OK, she’s hoping … that if she could get five minutes of his time, she could convince him to come forward in an interview.

It’s at this historic hotel Norah meets Dorothy (Dotty) Parker.  At first Norah thought the hotel had hired ‘look-alikes’ to dress and act like the famous authors who’d signed the commemorative guest book.  Those authors were dubbed ‘The Algonquin Round Table’.  They used to lunch together frequently at The Algonquin during their day.  Slowly, it begins to dawn on Norah that this is THE Dorothy Parker.  Parker refuses to go to the light.  She can remain in bodily form as long as the guest book remains open.  Dorothy knows Ted and if she can get him to sign the guest book, he can keep her company after he dies.  Everyone else has chosen to ‘cross over’.  Dorothy conspires with Norah – her version of ‘I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine’.  Can they both get what they want?

Author Ellen Meister does a great job of carrying forth the wisecracks and classic witticism that would likely have come from Dorothy Parker’s mouth.  It’s also a very moving and emotional story that I didn’t quite expect.  I loved the cameo appearances made by Tallulah Bankhead, Lillian Hellman, Groucho Marx, and even Dotty’s poodle, Cliché.  Just when you think you’ve got the story figured out, there’s a tender little twist that ‘ups the ante’ for the reader.  This is Meister’s second Dorothy Parker book, the first beingFarewell Dorothy Parker.  It’s a fun, almost magical, journey into ‘what if’.  Rating: 4 out of 5.

I am convinced Dorothy Parker is my spirit animal. She’s dark and witty and sarcastic and cruel and I loved every second of it. I had a long talk with my professor one day about several of these stories and how beautifully bitter they are, and the extent to which Parker was criticizing the role of women and society of her time. There are stories like “Mr. Durant”, which point to an irony so ridiculous it hurts. Then there are those like “A Telephone Call” which look as if they were written yesterday, that’s how relevant they still are. Others, like “Arrangement in Black and White”, point out to issues of class and racism in the 1920s yet more significantly end up pointing to the fact that many of these issues still persist today, except we have come to look at them differently (ie. we sweep them under the rug with greater confidence). They’re stories that have aged well, if at all. The details don’t matter as much as the sentiments however, for one doesn’t need to look far to see the same lovesick and sheltered women in today’s society.