Compelling tales for some, but author may just have irked female readers
Men’s dream and ambition is to have women... but this needs to be restrained
THE GREAT American writer James Salter was only just finding wider acclaim when he died, aged 90, in 2015. For many years a writer’s writer admired by authors worldwide, he produced an arresting body of work spanning novels, short stories, screenplays, memoirs and journalism. His masculine, lyrical style has often been compared to that of Hemingway, but it is more purposefully beatific and sensual.
He takes a more compassionate view of men and women maturing through war, sex and work – the “great games”, he called them, of the grown-up 20th-century world. Don’t Save Anything is a new collection of non-fiction pieces.
A graduate of West Point, Salter was a fighter pilot in Korea, a period documented in his novel The Hunters.
Salter is one of the masters of writing about the US military, and Don’t Save Anything includes a handful of essays on this theme. Cool Heads recounts one of two incidents where he comes close to being killed. It’s a taut study of what courage means and how giving in to fear made those that did “outcasts”, full of “concealed shame”.
The exigencies of training at America’s most prestigious military academy are summed up in The First Women Graduate, about West Point’s first female cadets. “There were women who missed their periods until November,” he relates, “some, like women in concentration camps, missed them for a year.”
In one of a number of travel pieces about Aspen, he notes rapturously that “nothing is more thrilling than a talented girl skiing – boldness, grace, speed”. His romantic take on brothels in When Evening Falls may well also have feminists raising their eyebrows.
But if Salter’s fascination tends toward the male, what men they are, then the chapters on Eisenhower and the Italian warrior-poet Gabriele D’Annunzio are gripping.
Partly responsible for dragging Italy into World War I with his inflammatory speeches, the libertine D’Annunzio led torpedo-boat raids in the battle of Buccari and commanded a flying squadron over Vienna, piloting “in patent leather boots and sometimes (holding) the bombs between his knees”.
The modest, “unheroic” Eisenhower, dismissed as “clerk and a manager, indistinguishable”, emerges wondrously in Salter’s account as a “great soldier and a great man”, responsible for World War II’s “greatest victory”, D-Day, with “the army made over in his image”.
Salter meditates further on old-fashioned conceptions of courage and honour in his profiles of great skiers and rock climbers such as Toni Sailer and Royal Robbins. He marvels at men such as Robbins, facing walls “more than twice as high as the Empire State”, “trying to solve the rock as if it were the door of a bank vault”.
Female readers, though, may be irked by Salter’s focus on the virile and his musings in the chapter, Men and Women. “Women have a harder duty in this world,” he writes, “they have been given their beauty in recompense.”
In a passage that resonates in the aftermath of the Weinstein scandal, he posits: “Men’s dream and ambition is to have women… but this is something that needs to be restrained… Men will take what they are not prevented from taking, and the force of society must be set against this impulse.” – The Indpendent