by Damon Runyon
Yes, he was an entertainer. So was Mark Twain. He never wrote a novel. Neither did Anton Chekhov. He said he wrote for money, and he made a lot of it at the typewriter, with at least sixteen of his tales becoming movies. “I took one little section of New York,” he said once, “and made half a million dollars writing about it.” Around 1940 he moved to Hollywood, where he worked for a few years as a producer and made more money. He continued writing his newspaper column. But he was already sick with the cancer that would ultimately kill him.
In 1932, a year after his first wife died, Runyon married a young woman he called Patricia del Grande of Caliditas, Spain. She was, he insisted, “a Spanish countess.” Maybe she was, but her story is the stuff of fiction. In one version Runyon met her in Mexico when he was covering the Pershing-Villa events, was touched by her poverty, and offered to pay for her education. She was then simply Patricia Amati. She was also Mexican, not Spanish, and definitely not a countess. In the late 1920s she came to find Runyon in New York, where she hoped to become a dancer. He fell in love with her, in the sudden way so many of his characters did, even though he was twenty-six years her senior. For a while they lived very well indeed, in Beverly Hills, and in a villa on Hibiscus Island in Miami, across from Palm Island, where Al Capone had his mansion.
In 1944 Runyon’s cancerous larynx was removed. He continued to write occasional newspaper columns, but the fiction dried up. At some point his wife began to live a separate life and divorced him in early 1946 to marry a younger man. By then he was back in New York, where he had lived most intensely and written his finest work. After his death his ashes were scattered over Manhattan from an airplane flown by the World War I ace Eddie Rickenbacker.
Today not many remember Runyon himself, or the era in which he lived with so much verve and melancholy. But here are the stories. They forever remain part of the long tale of New York.
—Pete Hamill
Suggestions for Further Reading
by Daniel R. Schwarz
I. WORKS BY DAMON RUNYON
My Old Man. New York: Stackpole Sons, 1939.
My Wife Ethel. Philadelphia: David McKay, 1940.
The Damon Runyon Omnibus. Garden City, N.Y.: The Sun Dial Press, 1944.
In Our Town. New York: Creative Age Press, 1946.
Short Takes. New York: Somerset Books, 1946.
Trials and Other Tribulations. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1947.
Poems for Men. New York: Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1947.
More Guys and Dolls. Garden City, N.Y.: Garden City Books, 1951.
Runyon on Broadway. London: Constable, 1951.
The Turps. London: Constable, 1951.
Runyon from First to Last. London: Constable, 1964.
II. ESSENTIAL CRITICAL AND SCHOLARLY MATERIALS
Behn, Noel. Lindbergh: The Crime. New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1994.
Bender, Thomas. New York Intellect: A History of Intellectual Life in New York City from 1750 to the Beginnings of Our Own Time. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1987.
Bernhardt, Debra. Ordinary People, Extraordinary Lives. New York: New York University Press, 2000.
Breslin, Jimmy. Damon Runyon. New York: Ticknor and Fields, 1991.
Burrows, Edwin G., and Mike Wallace. Gotham: A History of New York City to the 1890s. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Clark, Tom. The World of Damon Runyon, New York: Harper & Row, 1978.
Cooney, Terry A. The Rise of the New York Intellectuals: Partisan Review and its Circle, 1934–45. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1986.
D’itri, Patricia Ward. Damon Runyon. New York: Twayne, 1982.
Douglas, Anne. Terrible Honesty: Mongrel Manhattan in the 1920s. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1996.
Erenberg, Lewis. Steppin’ Out: New York Night Life and the Transformation of American Culture, 1890–1930. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981.
———.“Impresarios of Broadway Nightlife.” In Inventing Times Square: Commerce and Culture at the Crossroads of the World, ed. William Taylor. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1991.
Fitzgerald, F. Scott. The Great Gatsby. New York: Scribner’s, 1925.
Friendly, Albert, and Ronald L. Goldfarb, eds. Crime and Publicity: The Impact of News on the Administration of Justice. New York: Twentieth Century Fund, 1967.
Fritzsche, Peter. Reading Berlin 1900. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1996.
Gabler, Neal. Winchell: Gossip, Power and the Culture of Celebrity. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1994.
Harris, Neil. “Urban Tourism and the Commercial City.” In Inventing Times Square: Commerce and Culture at the Crossroads of the World, ed. William Taylor. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1991.
———.“The View from the City.” In Norman Rockwell: Pictures for the American People, eds. Maureen Hart Hennessey and Judy L. Larson. Atlanta: High Museum of Art, and New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1999.
Hoyt, Edwin P. A Gentleman of Broadway. Boston: Little, Brown, 1964.
Kahn, Bonnie Menes. Cosmopolitan Culture. New York: Atheneum, 1987.
Kennedy, David M. Freedom from Fear: The American People in Depression and War 1929–1945. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Kennedy, Ludovic. The Airman and the Carpenter. New York: Viking Penguin, 1985.
Kennedy, William. Guys and Dolls: The Stories of Damon Runyon. New York: Penguin, 1992.
Lampard, Eric. “Introductory Essay.” In Inventing Times Square: Commerce and Culture at the Crossroads of the World, ed. William Taylor. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1991.
Lofton, John. Justice and the Press. Boston: Beacon Press, 1966.
Melville, Herman. “Bartleby, the Scrivener.” In The Great Short Works of Herman Melville. New York: Harper & Row, 1969.
Mosedale, John. The Men Who Invented Broadway. New York: Richard Marek, Publisher, 1981.
Mumford, Lewis. The Culture of Cities. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1938.
Nelson, Richard, ed. Strictly Dishonorable and Other Lost American Plays. New York: Theatre Communications Group, 1986.
Roberts, C. E. Bechhofer. The New World of Crime: Famous American Trials. London: Eyre and Spottiswoode, 1933.
Schwarz, Daniel R. Broadway Boogie Woogie: Damon Runyon and the Making of New York City Culture. New York: Palgrave, 2003.
Senelick, Laurence. “Private Parts in Public Places.” In Inventing Times Square: Commerce and Culture at the Crossroads of the World, ed. William Taylor. New York: Russell Sage Foundation, 1991.
Wagner, Jean. Runyonese: The Mind and Craft of Damon Runyon. New York: Stechert Hafner, 1965.
Weber, Max. The City. New York: Free Press, 1958.
Weiner, Edward H. The Damon Runyon Story, London: Longmans, 1964.
A Note on the Text
The works of Damon Runyon appeared in a great variety of periodicals, books, and newspapers throughout his lifetime, and beyond. The following Broadway stories were taken from the collection Guys and Dolls: The Stories of Damon Runyon, published by Penguin Books, 1992: “Madame La Gimp,” “Blood Pressure,” “The Lily of St. Pierre,” “The Bloodhounds of Broadway,” “Dream Street Rose,” “Tobias the Terrible,” “Dancing Dan’s Christmas,” “It Comes Up Mud,” “Broadway Complex,” “The Three Wise Guys,” “The Lemon Drop Kid,” “Sense of Humor,” and “Breach of Promise.” The following Broadway stories were taken from Romance in the Roaring Forties and Other Stories, published by American Play Company, 1986: “Romance in the Roaring Forties,” “Butch Minds the Baby,” “The Hottest Guy in the World,” “The Snatching of Bookie Bob,” “Hold ’em Yale!” “For a Pal,” “Little Miss Marker,” “Earthquake,” “The Idyll of Miss Sarah Brown,” and “The Old Doll’s House.” The remaining Broadway stories can be found in The Damon Runyon Omnibus, published by The Sun Dial Press, 1944, which features selections from three of Runyon’s volumes (Guys and Dolls, Blue Plate Special, and Money from Home): “A Very Honorable Guy,” “Dark Dolores,” “
Lillian,” “Social Error,” “‘Gentlemen, the King!’” “The Brain Goes Home,” “Broadway Financier,” “The Brakeman’s Daughter,” “Princess O’Hara,” “A Nice Price,” and “Undertaker Song.” The final Broadway story, “A Light in France,” was first published in Collier’s, January 15, 1944. “A Call on the President” first appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, August 21, 1937, and “The Defense of Strikerville” in McClure’s, February 1907. “Two Men Named Collins” was printed in Reader, September 1907, and “Lou Louder” in Collier’s, August 5, 1936. “Mr. ‘B’ and His Stork Club” was first published in Cosmopolitan, May 1947. For the original sources of all remaining inclusions, please refer to “Essay and Annotations” by Daniel R. Schwarz.
Guys and Dolls and Other Writings
THE BROADWAY STORIES
ROMANCE IN THE ROARING FORTIES
Only a rank sucker will think of taking two peeks at Dave the Dude’s doll, because while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing he will get sored up at the second peek, and Dave the Dude is certainly not a man to have sored up at you.
But this Waldo Winchester is one hundred per cent sucker, which is why he takes quite a number of peeks at Dave’s doll. And what is more, she takes quite a number of peeks right back at him. And there you are. When a guy and a doll get to taking peeks back and forth at each other, why, there you are indeed.
This Waldo Winchester is a nice-looking young guy who writes pieces about Broadway for the Morning Item. He writes about the goings-on in night clubs, such as fights, and one thing and another, and also about who is running around with who, including guys and dolls.
Sometimes this is very embarrassing to people who may be married and are running around with people who are not married, but of course Waldo Winchester cannot be expected to ask one and all for their marriage certificates before he writes his pieces for the paper.
The chances are if Waldo Winchester knows Miss Billy Perry is Dave the Dude’s doll, he will never take more than his first peek at her, but nobody tips him off until his second or third peek, and by this time Miss Billy Perry is taking her peeks back at him and Waldo Winchester is hooked.
In fact, he is plumb gone, and being a sucker, like I tell you, he does not care whose doll she is. Personally, I do not blame him much, for Miss Billy Perry is worth a few peeks, especially when she is out on the floor of Miss Missouri Martin’s Sixteen Hundred Club doing her tap dance. Still, I do not think the best tap-dancer that ever lives can make me take two peeks at her if I know she is Dave the Dude’s doll, for Dave somehow thinks more than somewhat of his dolls.
He especially thinks plenty of Miss Billy Perry, and sends her fur coats, and diamond rings, and one thing and another, which she sends back to him at once, because it seems she does not take presents from guys. This is considered most surprising all along Broadway, but people figure the chances are she has some other angle.
Anyway, this does not keep Dave the Dude from liking her just the same, and so she is considered his doll by one and all, and is respected accordingly until this Waldo Winchester comes along.
It happens that he comes along while Dave the Dude is off in the Modoc on a little run down to the Bahamas to get some goods for his business, such as Scotch and champagne, and by the time Dave gets back Miss Billy Perry and Waldo Winchester are at the stage where they sit in corners between her numbers and hold hands.
Of course nobody tells Dave the Dude about this, because they do not wish to get him excited. Not even Miss Missouri Martin tells him, which is most unusual because Miss Missouri Martin, who is sometimes called “Mizzoo” for short, tells everything she knows as soon as she knows it, which is very often before it happens.
You see, the idea is when Dave the Dude is excited he may blow somebody’s brains out, and the chances are it will be nobody’s brains but Waldo Winchester’s, although some claim that Waldo Winchester has no brains or he will not be hanging around Dave the Dude’s doll.
I know Dave is very, very fond of Miss Billy Perry, because I hear him talk to her several times, and he is most polite to her and never gets out of line in her company by using cuss words, or anything like this. Furthermore, one night when One-eyed Solly Abrahams is a little stewed up he refers to Miss Billy Perry as a broad, meaning no harm whatever, for this is the way many of the boys speak of the dolls.
But right away Dave the Dude reaches across the table and bops One-eyed Solly right in the mouth, so everybody knows from then on that Dave thinks well of Miss Billy Perry. Of course Dave is always thinking fairly well of some doll as far as this goes, but it is seldom he gets to bopping guys in the mouth over them.
Well, one night what happens but Dave the Dude walks into the Sixteen Hundred Club, and there in the entrance, what does he see but this Waldo Winchester and Miss Billy Perry kissing each other back and forth friendly. Right away Dave reaches for the old equalizer to shoot Waldo Winchester, but it seems Dave does not happen to have the old equalizer with him, not expecting to have to shoot anybody this particular evening.
So Dave the Dude walks over and, as Waldo Winchester hears him coming and lets go his strangle-hold on Miss Billy Perry, Dave nails him with a big right hand on the chin. I will say for Dave the Dude that he is a fair puncher with his right hand, though his left is not so good, and he knocks Waldo Winchester bow-legged. In fact, Waldo folds right up on the floor.
Well, Miss Billy Perry lets out a screech you can hear clear to the Battery and runs over to where Waldo Winchester lights, and falls on top of him squalling very loud. All anybody can make out of what she says is that Dave the Dude is a big bum, although Dave is not so big, at that, and that she loves Waldo Winchester.
Dave walks over and starts to give Waldo Winchester the leather, which is considered customary in such cases, but he seems to change his mind, and instead of booting Waldo around, Dave turns and walks out of the joint looking very black and mad, and the next anybody hears of him he is over in the Chicken Club doing plenty of drinking.
This is regarded as a very bad sign indeed, because while everybody goes to the Chicken Club now and then to give Tony Bertazzola, the owner, a friendly play, very few people care to do any drinking there, because Tony’s liquor is not meant for anybody to drink except the customers.
Well, Miss Billy Perry gets Waldo Winchester on his pegs again, and wipes his chin off with her handkerchief, and by and by he is all okay except for a big lump on his chin. And all the time she is telling Waldo Winchester what a big bum Dave the Dude is, although afterwards Miss Missouri Martin gets hold of Miss Billy Perry and puts the blast on her plenty for chasing a two-handed spender such as Dave the Dude out of the joint.
“You are nothing but a little sap,” Miss Missouri Martin tells Miss Billy Perry. “You cannot get the right time off this newspaper guy, while everybody knows Dave the Dude is a very fast man with a dollar.”
“But I love Mr. Winchester,” says Miss Billy Perry. “He is so romantic. He is not a bootlegger and a gunman like Dave the Dude. He puts lovely pieces in the paper about me, and he is a gentleman at all times.”
Now of course Miss Missouri Martin is not in a position to argue about gentlemen, because she meets very few in the Sixteen Hundred Club and anyway, she does not wish to make Waldo Winchester mad as he is apt to turn around and put pieces in his paper that will be a knock to the joint, so she lets the matter drop.
Miss Billy Perry and Waldo Winchester go on holding hands between her numbers, and maybe kissing each other now and then, as young people are liable to do, and Dave the Dude plays the chill for the Sixteen Hundred Club and everything seems to be all right. Naturally we are all very glad there is no more trouble over the proposition, because the best Dave can get is the worst of it in a jam with a newspaper guy.
Personally, I figure Dave will soon find himself another doll and forget all about Miss Billy Perry, because now that I take another peek at her, I can see where she is just about the same
as any other tap-dancer, except that she is red-headed. Tap-dancers are generally blackheads, but I do not know why.
Moosh, the doorman at the Sixteen Hundred Club, tells me Miss Missouri Martin keeps plugging for Dave the Dude with Miss Billy Perry in a quiet way, because he says he hears Miss Missouri Martin make the following crack one night to her: “Well, I do not see any Simple Simon on your lean and linger.”
This is Miss Missouri Martin’s way of saying she sees no diamond on Miss Billy Perry’s finger, for Miss Missouri Martin is an old experienced doll, who figures if a guy loves a doll he will prove it with diamonds. Miss Missouri Martin has many diamonds herself, though how any guy can ever get himself heated up enough about Miss Missouri Martin to give her diamonds is more than I can see.
I am not a guy who goes around much, so I do not see Dave the Dude for a couple of weeks, but late one Sunday afternoon little Johnny McGowan, who is one of Dave’s men, comes and says to me like this: “What do you think? Dave grabs the scribe a little while ago and is taking him out for an airing!”