Product Description

Jean Shepherd (1921-1999), master humorist, is best known for his creation A Christmas Story, the popular movie about the child who wants a BB gun for Christmas and nearly shoots his eye out. What else did Shepherd do? He is considered by many to be the Mark Twain and James Thurber of his day. For many thousands of fans, for decades, "Shep" talked on the radio late at night, keeping them up way past their bedtimes. He entertained without a script, improvising like a jazz musician, on any and every subject you can imagine. He invented and remains the master of talk radio. Shepherd perpetrated one of the great literary hoaxes of all time, promoting a nonexistent book and author, and then brought the book into existence. He wrote 23 short stories for Playboy, four times winning their humor of the year award, and also interviewed The Beatles for the magazine. He authored several popular books of humor and satire, created several television series and acted in several plays. He is the model for the character played by Jason Robards in the play and movie A Thousand Clowns, as well as the inspiration for the Shel Silverstein song made famous by Johnny Cash, "A Boy Named Sue." Readers will learn the significance of innumerable Shepherd words and phrases, such as "Excelsior, you fathead," and observe his constant confrontations with the America he loved. They will get to know and understand this multitalented genius by peeking behind the wall he built for himself - a wall to hide a different and less agreeable persona. Through interviews with his friends, co-workers and creative associates, such as musician David Amram, cartoonist and playwright Jules Feiffer, publisher and broadcaster Paul Krassner, and author Norman Mailer, the book explains a complex and unique genius of our time. "Shepherd pretty much invented talk radio ... What I got of him was a wonder at the world one man could create. I am as awed now by his achievement as I was then." - Richard Corliss, Time magazine online

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #329456 in Books
• Published on: 2005-03-28
• Released on: 2004-11-01
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 496 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Although the prolific, multitalented Shepherd (1921-1999) was an actor, author, emcee, recording artist and screenwriter (A Christmas Story), he's remembered by many as a late-night radio raconteur , who for 21 years on New York City's WOR-AM mixed heartland humor and hip, sardonic rants with memories of his Indiana youth. This prismatic portrait affirms Shepherd's position as one of the 20th century's great humorists. Railing against conformity, he forged a unique personal bond with his loyal listeners, who participated in his legendary literary prank by asking bookstores for the nonexistent novel I, Libertine (when Ian Ballantine had Shepherd and Theodore Sturgeon make the fake real, PW called it "the hoax that became a book"). Storyteller Shepherd's grand theme was life itself; Marshall McLuhan called Shepherd's broadcasts "a new kind of novel that he writes nightly." Minus guests and call-ins, it was talk radio, but Shepherd was the only voice, ad-libbing monologues like jazz riffs for a huge following via WOR's 50,000-watt reach. Novelist Bergmann (Rio Amazonas) interviewed 32 people who knew Shepherd or were influenced by him and listened to hundreds of broadcast tapes, inserting transcripts of Shepherd's own words into a "biographical framework" of exhaustive research. 30 b&w photos.
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Booklist
These days, Jean Shepherd (1921-99), radio raconteur, social commentator, and author, is best known as the narrator of the perennially favorite holiday film A Christmas Story. But to his hardcore fans he was a pied piper of the radio waves--a nighttime voice that took them beyond their mundane realities by revealing how interesting the mundane can be. Shepherd broadcast almost nightly from 1955 to 1977 on WOR in New York City, gaining a cult following among the small community of insomniacs he dubbed the "night people." Although the author reveals himself as one of Shepherd's fans and this book as a labor of love--the title itself is a phrase Shepherd urged his fans to invoke--he makes no effort to hide his subject's faults. Bergmann points out that Shepherd's so-called nostalgia was actually antinostalgia: the painful memories of childhood and young adulthood are carefully masked by a fine midwestern sense of humor. A true storyteller and monologist--and a prickly genius. Frank Caso
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

About the Author
Eugene Bergmann began listening to Shepherd radio shows in 1956. Besides studying hundreds of broadcast tapes, he read and viewed virtually all Shepherd's extensive work in other media.

Customer Reviews

Hoo boy. This is a tough one.
Before I go any further, let me congratulate Mr. Bergmann on a prodigious piece of work. This book must have taken a great deal of time and effort and that fact needs recognition. Jean Shepherd was a unique individual who means different things to different people. Because of that, I wonder if the book couldn't have been better with some collaboration in the writing.

I grew up in mid-Michigan. I stumbled on Jean Shepherd quite by accident one night in 1965 while tuning around. I don't think I heard more than a dozen shows altogether because the reception was lousy. When I was at college, reception was completely non-existent. Following college, I was drafted into the Army and subsequently served a year in southeast Asia. Not only would reception be virtually impossible, but also our radios didn't tune down that far. But I came across him again with his periodic stories in Playboy. And there the relationship ended. I did see a couple episodes of Jean Shepherd's America, but nothing else. Not until one of my kids asked me to watch a movie. Of course, it was Christmas Story and as soon as the narration started, I jumped up and yelled "Its him!" The kids were not impressed. Still aren't, 10 years later.

I think this is an important point. Everybody loved the movie, but it took someone special to appreciate Shepherd on the radio. Even today, when my wife and I are going to be together in the car for a couple of hours, I'll pop in a Shepherd CD. Inside of 10 minutes she is either asleep or she wants to tell me about her sister's foot problem. No interest whatsoever in the gems being imparted to us. So my love of Shepherd is something I keep to myself and I wonder how many others find the same thing.

Mr. Bergmann's book bothered me, especially the first two-thirds. I really wondered how much of Shepherd he understood and I wonder how much of the radio world he understands. One example: on page 150 is the sentence "Or styrene, for the low, lost types." This is a terribly funny line had it been copied in its original form which should have been "Or styrene, for the low loss types" indicating the properties of an inductor used in electronic circuits, which of course has absolutely no bearing on the subject matter. Mr. Bergmann repeatedly points out that Shepherd had little or no use for those employed in other capacities at the radio station, such as the engineers, salesmen and executives. He makes this sound as if Shepherd was the only performer in the world to ever feel this way. This is dead wrong and examples can be easily found to back this point. During Shepherd's time, did Johnny Carson ever say anything respectful of the NBC executives? Listen today to the syndicated Neil Boortz Show when he refers to the `sales weenies.' And engineers many times do not understand the creative process the performer is striving for. They are more concerned with flipping switches and reading meters. This I know for a fact because I used to be one. Shepherd was hardly unique in his disdain.

Shepherd referred several times, especially in the early 60's, to having played baseball. From what I gathered, it was only minor league, but still a part of his life. I found no mention of this whatsoever in the book, fabricated history or not.

Quite a bit of print is used to describe Shepherd's dysfunctional home life. This portion did need to be told, but again the impression I came away with was that it was unique to Shepherd, which, sadly, isn't true.

Having said all of that, there are some real jewels here. Unfortunately, the spoken word does not easily translate to the written word. The written excerpts from many of Shepherd's broadcasts are difficult to read and appreciate since there is no way to easily convey his mannerisms, tone, pacing and other techniques used to get his point across.

One of the best statements from the book should have been placed on the cover and at the beginning of each chapter as a continuing reminder of the flaw in how we perceive our personal celebrities. On page 438, Larry Josephson is quoted as saying (in part) "... I was disappointed because he didn't live up to his image- but most people don't. One of my rules- and most people's rules- you don't want to meet your hero. They very rarely live up to your image of them."

Summation: if you followed Shepherd, buy and read the book. If you didn't, then don't.

Shep Lives!
"Excelsior you Fathead" left as many questions as it answered, but, then again, so did its subject - Jean Shepherd. Punctuated by Shepherd's own words, this insightful book chronicles the most innovative, and underrated, American humorist of all time. Jean Shepherd will forever be known as the creative force, and narrator, behind "A Christmas Story" - a movie that has achieved "classic" proportions. Thankfully, Mr. Bergmann does not dwell on this topic, but digs much deeper into Shepherd's less popularly known, but far more groundbreaking, pursuits - including, particularly, his nightly broadcasts on the powerful New York radio station, WOR. Bergmann weaves together Shepherd's own words with biographical highlights and first-hand accounts of those who knew him. Sprinkled in along the way are Bergmann's personal musings on the often dark, but always fascinating, enigma that characterized his subject's life. Thankfully, and to his great credit, Bergmann stops just short of making sense of it all - recognizing, wisely, as Shepherd himself did, that our world is more about contradictions and pretensions than abject certainties.

In his landmark book, "In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash" (from which much of "A Christmas Story" was drawn), Shepherd posed a question. He wondered whether the coming-of-age, Midwestern-value-laden innocence embodied by his childhood best friend, Flick, had managed to survive in modern America. Immediately after the book's publication, graffiti artists all over New York City answered with the spray-painted declaration, "Flick Lives" - which was read by millions, but only understood by Shepherd's clued-in fans (who he often referred to as his "gang"). Now, forty years later, and six years after Shepherd's passing, Bergmann should be justifiably proud because, due his comprehensive and entertaining book, I can happily report that not only does Flick live, but so does Shep! I strongly urge you to buy a copy and join the gang of those whose lives have been forever enhanced by Jean Shepherd's genius.

Radio remains king
At yet another point in history when radio's doom was imminent, Jean Shepherd expanded its capabilities. He was a stunning performer, not just in his skills, but in the volume of his work. A Vegas or nightclub performer does the same 50 minutes every night, sometimes for years.
He did a brand new 45 minute monologue every single night of the week for over 20 years.

This book captures the spirit and genius of his work. I listened to him regularly from 1966 until the end. I saw several of his performances especially the ones at Seton Hall. (I have a recording of that.)

Here's what the book does not emphasize, Jean was not on NPR or some obscure station. He was on the most commercial of radio stations. The most dominant station in the largest city. WOR was both "important" and credible. WOR was the station your mother and her friends listened to all day, but they didn't listen to Jean. Jean's voice came from the transister under the pillow in hundreds of thousands of suburban teenage bedrooms and college dorm rooms throughout the Northeast. The fact that he was on WOR made his riffs all the more subversive. If he had been on an obscure non-commercial station it is doubtful his work would have been as thrilling.

Interestingly, and this is a consistent impression among my friends who grew up listening to him, the movie the Christmas Story isn't nearly as entertaining as the stories he told on the radio that are the foundation of that movie. We had heard those stories many times before the movie's release and the "sets" in our imaginations were more dramatic.

There is nothing as powerful as a skilled broadcaster in front of a radio microphone. Nothing. This is a great book, get it.