E.L. Doctorow - World's Fair: A Novel

Do you remember what childhood was like? Back when the simplest things, like a street cleaner truck, gave you the greatest sense of wonder. E. L. Doctorow does, and he reminds us about it with his wondrous novel, World's Fair.

The novel tells us about Edgar, a young Jewish boy living in New York City in the mid to late '30s. Trying to describe the story further is near impossible; World's Fair is anecdotal, a series of remembrances and scenes that together form the fabric of the early days of a life. Edgar remembers snow forts, early days at school, following his older brother with unabashed admiration, and culminating in a journey to the 1939 World's Fair. He comes of age, awkwardly recognizes his growing action to girls, deals with his heritage in the first hints of world war II, and understands his family. All this and more, Doctorow's book does, without ever seeming indulgent or flighty.

World's Fair is textured and deep, a story of one boy's realization of himself set in a particular time and place. It reminds me of James Joyce's short story, "Arabica," and Cristina Garcia's novel, Dreaming in Cuban. Most directly, though, it reminded me of Henry Roth's brilliant novel, Call it Sleep. Thematically and ideologically, they are equal, tales of boys who could have been neighbors, but neither spoke to the other because the other was weird. Like these other stories, it captures a sense of going from someone who must be cared for by other to one who's life is their own. It captures the acceptance of a place (New York, in all cases, if memory serves me) that doesn't entirely accept you.

Like these others, though, World's Fair masterfully enters one of my favorite literature niches: that of the first or second generation American growing up split between two worlds, the world of their ancestors and the world that they are making their way in. This novel exhibits what makes this niche great. It allows for an observer's perspective on the world we know, a child trying to cope with the trials of both childhood and being different. On the surface, it's about cultural and racial differences, but it resonates in everyone because everyone is a little different themselves.

Most of the story is directly from Edgar's perspective, though certainly an Edgar much older than the one in the story. Interspersed are chapters told by one of Edgar's relatives, usually the one most prominent in the previous chapter. At first this is very distracting. But then you see all sides of the characters, those sides that Edgar cannot capture. You see his mother, brother, and aunt in different lights after they've had a chapter of their own. You see the undercurrent that Edgar glosses over with the sheen of childhood ignorance. But keen Edgar notices the tears in his cloth in reality sometimes. He notices fights between parents, has this uneasy awareness of their nighttime activities, and picks up on his brother's maturation as a cue to his own.

Doctorow's style is easy and intelligent, personal and personable. He manages to recreate the wonder of childhood while giving the insights that Edgar has learned since becoming an adult. He analyzes his childhood while reliving it. A difficult task, no doubt, but he manages to execute it deftly. Edgar speaks of his childhood recklessness as something that was out of sorts with his identity as a good boy. He did not remember his wildness, his mistakes of recklessness, but his "knees and elbows recorded these events with scabs." This passage shows a particular balancing act: how to show the adult insights without loosing the child? Doctorow walks a fine line, speaking to us in terms that we knew to be truth as children with the words and perspective of adulthood.

And here is where I place the small flaw that makes my review rounded. I struggle for anything pertinent to say, anything to make me less of a gushing loon. And here it is: I read the book too fast. I wanted to keep Edgar there forever; I wanted to move in to his skin. But, like childhood, World's Fair came to an end all too quickly.

If you haven't gathered yet, this novel was an absolute pleasure to read. Finally, a book that not only captured my attention, but soothed my soul as well. Take a look, your inner child will thank you for it (with purple nurples, no doubt).