Thank Canada for Bruce McCall! The satiric artist and writer wrote for National Lampoon before joining The New Yorker, where he’s almost frighteningly prolific, with 50 covers to date. Along the way, he’s published six books, the latest, “This Land Was Made for You and Me (But Mostly Me):Billionaires in the Wild,” written with David Letterman.
“David and I share a certain, um, skeptical view of human nature and a sense of the absurd about, well, everything,” says McCall, who’s lived in New York since 1964. “His world view goes far beyond the realm of Kim Kardashian jokes. He never interfered with my sometimes eccentric ideas about what’s funny and his contributions were always spot on. A love fest, in shot.” Here’s what’s in McCall’s library.
The Sway of the Grand Saloon
by John Malcolm Brinnin
A sociological history of the Atlantic ocean liner, from its crude beginnings in the 1830s to its peak between the wars. Brinnin is as entertaining [writing] about marine architecture as he is about the wealthy voyagers who traveled on the great liners. If I weren’t in the humor business, I’d be a historian of transportation.
American Mirror
by Deborah Solomon
The biography of Norman Rockwell, the only artist I idolized as a kid. He was a star in the way no illustrator ever has been since, and learning about who he was and how he worked was revelatory. I’d long been critical of his relentless cheeriness and corny depictions of a mythical world, but this minutely researched story of his life gave me new respect for him.
Speak, Memory
by Vladimir Nabokov
My favorite writer of all time tells the story of his early life in Russia. Nabokov was incapable of a flat sentence or an unoriginal perception. His visual sense gave his work a magical luster. Even if the memories are too clear to be true, it doesn’t matter. The book can be read as a novel and lose nothing.
W.C. Fields: His Follies and Fortunes
by Robert Lewis Taylor
A funny and touching biography of my all-time favorite comedian, probably long out of print and probably none too reliable, but Taylor’s style perfectly matches Fields’ eccentric, sardonic persona. I loved [Fields’] penchant for ridiculous names, which I share, “Larsen E. Whipsnade” being typical.