Monday, May. 19, 1930
Taxi Driver
HACKING NEW YORK--Robert Hazard --Scribbler's ($1.75)
Seeing deeper, perhaps, than most of his associates, Taximan Hazard has hacked New York for almost nine years. He knows the personality, the temperament of all the biggest city's corners. His small book relates episodes of his days and nights on the street, not the story of his life. Racing as swiftly as his Packard cab, dodging elevated railroad pillars, circling Central Park, coasting through Greenwich Village, roaring about Hell's Kitchen and along Broadway, his sketches glimpse people mean, kind, tough, luxurious, dull, odd.
Penetrating descriptive force is Author Hazard's on occasion. "He had one of those retreating chins which is nevertheless determined; his teeth turned in, the kind of mouth people have who are afraid to step out and fight in the open but who secretly by hook or by crook are determined to have their own way." Nor is the book without humor, illustrated by the story of an old pastry-lover who interpreted literally and insistently the statement on restaurant menus: "All kinds of pie, 10-c-."
At other times, Author Hazard indulges in metaphor. "I have been, reading this stuff by Ben Lindsay about sex. I really can't see anything more complicated about the sex business than about the business of buying an automobile.
"I like a Packard. I had one that I drove about two hundred and sixty-eight thousand miles. I took care of it, and it never failed me. If I had to get out of a tight place, I could step on the gas, and I knew just what she would do, and she always did it. Owning that Packard to me meant being sure of having the car I liked best, having the exclusive use of it, being sure that no irresponsible person who had no stake in it would put it out of order, being able to take care of it and know that somebody else wouldn't bang it all up. ...
"People who have a lot of money don't have to worry so much about buying a car. If they don't like the first one, they can get a second one; but for ordinary folks it is different. . . .
"Now Bertrand Russell says jealousy should not be considered a virtue any more, but if you go monkeying around with somebody's Packard for which he has paid good money and thinks highly of, why you are likely to get a busted nose and that's all there is to it."
Uncritically, without comment, Author Hazard assembles evidence which indicts Manhattan's legislators, welfare workers, police officials, as grafting or unscrupulous or unintelligent or all. If the book has a "message," this is it.
A difficult form of writing is the brief sketch, usually essayed only by adepts. Neat selection of detail, curt force of language, descriptive finesse are necessary. Taximan Hazard possesses these literary attributes, provided he wrote his own book. Even if he did not, he is a skilful collaborator. Once a hobo, he says: "I came to New York just to see the sights ... my money ran low. . . . Hack driving seemed to be a very handy way to see New York and eat at the same time." Still at the taxi wheel, he is now about 30.
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