'Buckley and Mailer: The Difficult Friendship that Shaped the Sixties'
Kevin M. Schultz attempts to analyze the influence of two antagonistic thinkers of their time.
Kevin M. Schultz attempts to analyze the influence of two antagonistic thinkers of their time.
In September 1962, two days before the Floyd Patterson鈭扴onny Liston heavyweight championship in Chicago, a savvy promoter brought together a pair of adversaries for an altogether different kind of bout.
What flyers billed as the 鈥淒ebate of the Year鈥 (鈥淭he Conservative Mind clashes with the Hip Mind for the first time in a no holds barred discussion鈥) drew more than 3,000 paying spectators. In one corner was William F. Buckley, Jr., patrician conservative author and commentator and founder of National Review, while in the other stood Norman Mailer, hotheaded and controversial novelist and social critic. They hadn鈥檛 met before facing off onstage, and while some of their rhetorical attacks were below the belt 鈥 Buckley suggested that Mailer鈥檚 sole interest was 鈥渢he world鈥檚 genital glands鈥 鈥 they left Chicago interested in seeing more of each other.
The relationship that developed over the ensuing years is the subject of Buckley and Mailer: The Difficult Friendship that Shaped the Sixties, the new book by historian Kevin M. Schultz. Let鈥檚 observe from the outset that the book鈥檚 subtitle is a Mailer-worthy overstatement. One could argue that Buckley and Mailer individually shaped the tumultuous decade during which they met, but there is no evidence in this book (or, presumably, anywhere else) that their friendship did.
It must also be noted that the friendship itself is something of a flimsy frame to hang a book on. The description of the relationship as 鈥渄ifficult鈥 came from Mailer in a 1966 letter to Buckley begging off a dinner invitation.
鈥淎s much as I miss you and a certain wife of yours for the pleasure of a fine evening, I鈥檓 not so certain we can have it now, with Viet Nam to pass the wine,鈥 Mailer wrote, alluding to their opposing perspectives on the conflict. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 the trouble with bad wars. They spoil the continued existence of difficult friendships.鈥
Much of the quoted correspondence, though fond, is similarly apologetic, owing less to political disagreement than to lack of availability: 鈥淚 am terribly sorry, but I just plain don鈥檛 have any time at all鈥; 鈥淚 must, I fear, decline your splendid invitation.鈥 At one point Buckley asks Mailer to blurb his new book, and Mailer replies that he鈥檚 too busy but can offer a generic endorsement without reading the manuscript. Buckley curtly declines.
While he never establishes that the two were 鈥渢rusted confidantes,鈥 as the book jacket proclaims, Schultz is considerably more successful in using the intersections and divergences in the two men鈥檚 thinking to illuminate, often entertainingly, the cultural and political upheaval of the sixties.
Despite their obvious differences, Buckley and Mailer had much in common. They were both Ivy Leaguers, had both served in the army during World War II, and were writers whose first books launched them into fame as celebrity intellectuals at a young age (Mailer with 1948鈥檚 "The Naked and the Dead", Buckley with 1951鈥檚 "God and Man at Yale"). They were also somewhat farcical New York City mayoral candidates, Buckley in 1965, Mailer in 1969. (The former, asked what he would do if he won, famously replied, 鈥淒emand a recount.鈥)
More significantly, in Schultz鈥檚 words, they felt 鈥渁 joint disgust at the central assumptions that dominated postwar America from the 1940s to the mid-1960s,鈥 most notably the period鈥檚 cultural conformity and its faith in technocratic bureaucracy and government-supported corporate capitalism.
They of course attacked the center from different flanks: the anti-establishment Mailer exalted individual freedom, while the zealous Cold Warrior Buckley argued for a return to the traditional anchors of 鈥渢he laws of God and ... the wisdom of our ancestors.鈥 In the short term, Mailer鈥檚 viewpoint prevailed, but as the decade grew more violent, Schultz observes, its 鈥渕indless liberation鈥 turned into 鈥渟omething he wasn鈥檛 quite comfortable with.鈥
The author clearly admires Mailer鈥檚 searching, artistic nature (at one point during his mayoral campaign, Mailer explained that he was running 鈥渢o see where my own ideas lead鈥), while he several times refers to Buckley as a mere 鈥渟alesman鈥 for the conservative cause.
Buckley himself once said of Mailer, 鈥淗e鈥檚 a genius and I鈥檓 not.鈥 But Buckley was playing a different, and longer, game. The salesman never wavered in his belief in his product. His movement building, which involved advancing an uneasy Republican coalition of libertarians, traditionalists, and anti-Communists, saw its payoff in the election of Ronald Reagan. The decade Buckley most significantly shaped was not the sixties but the eighties.