The Golden Spur

The Golden Spur by Dawn Powell (1962) One of the later Dawn Powell books—maybe it’s her last novel—set in New York, I suppose in the Fifties—the cultural references are mostly fictional, I think, as are the “famous” characters. Though, I seem to remember a mention of “Hamburger Heaven”—did I imagine that? I can’t find it. I remember a “Burger Heaven”—wait, I already went through this, last time I read Breakfast at Tiffany’s (which I think was published not long before this book). Maybe “HH” here is “B at T” reference?! Okay, after spending a few fruitless minutes running into paywalls, and Google’s lowest-common-denominator-itis, I’m fed up. I’ll just have to read both books again (which is no chore, at all). This book was very funny. It could have been written yesterday, rather than at the time I was born—but the way it’s dated is nothing but charming, because it’s also remarkably contemporary in attitudes—and, I guess, tone—and I’d have guessed wrong if I’d had to guess. It’s about a young guy from Ohio, named Jonathan, whose mother had lived in New York years before and made a lot of acquaintances. After her death, Jonathan goes back to the city with the thought of making a life for himself there. I can relate to this, of course, being from Ohio—where a lot of people, it seemed, when I was younger, felt the need to try their luck in NYC. In Jonathan’s case, though, fueled by stories from and about his mother, he has the idea that he’s going to find his real father—who no doubt was one of the men his mother had been friends with—and more than you’d think! The home base for his quest is a tavern in the Village called the Golden Spur. It’s a great setup for a book. Jonathan is just clueless enough to slide by a lot of resistance and not be too affected by things not going his way—or in some cases, going too well. As the pieces start falling in place in this oddball odyssey, it gets weirder and funnier by subtle degrees—satirizing just about everything—artists and the art scene, writers, actors, real estate, and “respectability.” I don’t want to give away some of the best, oddest, wrinkles—they are really the joy of the book.

5.28.24