Sofka Zinovieff

The ballad of John and Anton

Barbash’s darkly humorous novel centres on the occupants of New York’s Dakota building and the fascination and curse of celebrity

Tom Barbash’s dark and humorous second novel takes a risk by combining invented and real characters. I feared nagging doubts about what was ‘true’.  However, it absolutely succeeds. Set in 1979–80, the alluring (fictional) Winter family attend parties with neighbours like Betty Bacall or John and Yoko. They all live in the Dakota building — the Upper West Side landmark built to resemble ‘a Habsburg castle’ and populated by New York luminaries. ‘A malady shared by a lot of the building was that of being famous’ and Dakota etiquette demanded that even the legendary be treated as normal. The twinned fascination and curse of celebrity is a major theme in a book that combines the nostalgic comedy of Woody Allen’s Annie Hall and the bleaker cynicism of Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities.

Back from a year in Africa with the Peace Corps and an almost fatal bout of malaria, 23-year-old Anton Winter lives with his glamorous parents. Wisecracking is a family speciality and they quaff champagne and Negronis, sing dirty limericks and drive a 1963 Mercedes. The father, Buddy,  is the planet around which Anton, his brother and mother (campaigning for Teddy Kennedy) are satellites. A famous talk-show host who had a disastrous nervous breakdown on air, Buddy is hoping for a comeback and Anton is cajoled into providing emotional, practical and intellectual support. Buddy is charming and clever, but his monstrous egotism and neediness subsume his son. ‘In truth I sometimes lost track of where Buddy’s thoughts ended and mine began,’ admits Anton. ‘For years I couldn’t tell if I liked a movie or a book or a New Yorker short story without consulting him first.’

Rosemary’s Baby ‘did for the Dakota what Jaws did for the ocean’, quips Anton.

Already a subscriber? Log in

Keep reading with a free trial

Subscribe and get your first month of online and app access for free. After that it’s just £1 a week.

There’s no commitment, you can cancel any time.

Or

Unlock more articles

REGISTER

Comments

Don't miss out

Join the conversation with other Spectator readers. Subscribe to leave a comment.

Already a subscriber? Log in