American Tabloid and the underworld vision of James Ellroy
The man behind the novel American Tabloid (1995): James Ellroy, in 2011 (Wikimedia Commons).
During his book tour in San Francisco, author James Ellroy uniquely introduced himself to his readers, constructing a larger-than-life persona that has defined him as one of America’s finest contemporary crime novelists. When introducing himself to me, a reader diving into his crime novel, American Tabloid (1995), Ellroy uniquely showcases his literary vision of machine gun prose, mixing fiction and historical narrative, and an ever-deepening morass of self-perpetuating violence in his work.
American Tabloid (1995) is a tale told over the course of five years, from 1958 to 1963. The novel follows the exploits of three backroom dealers who end up shaping modern America: Pete Bondurant, a French-Canadian ex-cop and button man for infamously reclusive billionaire, Howard Hughes, Kemper Boyd, an idealistic and cynical FBI agent who becomes entangled with the political institutions of the Kennedy family, and Ward Littell, a fellow Bureau man on the mob beat. These three men, who to us, appear petty, brutish, ignorant, and repulsive, are the men who make history in Ellory’s version of the events. They go on to play a vital role in a speculated version of the assassination of John F. Kennedy.
The novel is the perfect fusion of myth and reality: wholly fictitious characters like Bondurant, Boyd, and Littell interact with real-world figures like Jimmy Hoffa, Sam Giancana, and Robert F. Kennedy. This mesh of fact and fiction creates a vision of our history somehow more authentic than the actual truth. This mix of fictional characters with historical narrative is an Ellroy trademark developed in his breakout novel, The Black Dahlia (1987)—where fictional detectives solve a historical murder (a great book, worthy of its own Lamron write-up someday). Ellory’s fascination with America’s immediate post-World War II history is one not hidden— almost all of his novels center around the seedy underbelly of Hollywood, crime, and politics.
When speaking about Ellroy’s writing style, it is imperative to mention his “machine gun prose,” a term used when all but the essential words for narrative understanding are included. To understand what I mean, consider this section from American Tabloid (1995): “Lenny left twenty minutes later. Littell tailed him to Lake Shore Drive northbound. Whitecrap spray hit the windshield—booming wind had the lake churning. Littell cranked up his heater —too hot replaced too cold.” This style of writing is so abrupt and to the point that it feels like getting splashed in the face with cold water, allowing Ellroy to create a dense narrative with enough plot, characters, and heavy ideas to fill three novels.
While it is fair for some to argue that American Tabloid’s (1995) narrative is one with enough betrayals, double-crosses, and half-baked alliances to make a reader’s head swim, I’d argue that Ellroy’s style and substance are intoxicating. It’s easy to lose yourself in the fast-paced nature of the world Ellroy presents. Considering the gripping momentum of the plot and the briefness of each chapter—with some only being one or two pages long—this narrative will never let you rest for long.
Every character in American Tabloid (1995) is immoral to any respectable sensibility: they cheat, rob, lie, and kill their way until they are the kings of their castles. Their principles are flimsy to non-existent, and their motives are entirely based on their gratification and selfishness. This takeaway is the point of the entire work; as Ellroy writes in the introduction of American Tabloid (1995), “It’s time to demythologize an era and build a new myth from the gutter to the stars. It’s time to embrace bad men and the price they paid to secretly define their time. Here’s to them.”
The death of John F. Kennedy hangs over the book like a specter from its first page, adding a sense of impending dread in the reader. It also ignites a form of sick excitement as every piece of the conspiracy moves into place. All facets of this book are entrapped within the killing that defined a nation’s lost innocence—and as Elroy, concisely as ever, describes it at the book’s denouement—readers will have to: “brace [themselves] for this big [expletive] scream.”