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 Lenny
Bruce
"Lenny
Bruce is about Attitude. He was the genius of Attitude. If
you dig Lenny, you dig the Attitude." So wrote Eric
Bogosian in his 1991 introduction to the republication of
Bruce's autobiography, How to Talk Dirty and Influence
People. Bruce, in his uncompromisingly frank humor, took
on organized religion, government, jingoism, capitalism,
the death penalty, war, and sexual mores. He was a true
iconoclast, attacking every sacred cow of the 1950s and
60s from his underdog, working-class perspective. Bruce
shocked his audiences--intentionally so. But Bruce,
according to Kenneth Tyson, wanted his audience to be
shocked by the right things--greed, repression, hypocricy--not
by four-letter words and sexual references. Unfortunately
for Bruce, it was the four-letter words that attracted the
most attention. As one obscenity arrest followed another
from 1962 to 1964, Bruce began a downward spiral leading
to bankruptcy, drug addiction, and eventually his August
3, 1966 death from an overdose of morphine.
Bruce--born
Leonard Schneider in 1925--grew up in a Jewish household
on Long Island, New York. In his candid autobiography,
Bruce describes himself as a youngster reading
voraciously, sneaking into movies, eating lunches taken
from the lockers of other students, feeling guilty about
stealing $13 in donations to the Red Cross from a
mayonnaise jar, and being caught in the act of
masturbating with a National Geographic by his father.
In 1942,
the five-foot-two, 120-pound, bearded Leonard Schneider
(he would change his name to Bruce in 1947) volunteered
for the Navy. Bruce later wrote that his naval experience
made it possible "for the first time...to relate to
my fellow man." The Navy also gave him his first love
affair (a woman ten years his elder) and his first
encounters with the horror of war--as he watched the
bodies of forty Air Force men float by his cruiser, the U.
S. S. Brooklyn. He served as a shell passer for three
years off the coasts of North Africa, Italy, and Southern
France. Tired of the drudgery of military life, Bruce
found a war out of service that would become the
inspiration for the character Klinger in M*A*S*H: he
received an honorable discharge after dressing in women's
clothing.
Bruce's
show business career began as a paid "amateur"
in staged amateur shows in New York City clubs. Rather
than pay out announced prizes in the $100 range, clubs
instead selected from the audience people such as Bruce
willing to tell jokes (or sing, or dance, or play an
accordion) for a couple of bucks and, if they won, an
empty envelope. After several months of amateur gigs,
Bruce landed a slot on the nationally broadcast Arthur
Godfrey's Talent Scouts. Bruce won Godfrey's talent
contest, and suddenly became a hot greased-down comedian,
earning about $450 a week at clubs from Broadway to
Milwaukee.
As Bruce's
act evolved from standard comedy sketches with lots of
impressions to more abstract material, he began losing his
audience. Bruce filled in the frequent open dates between
club performances with vaudeville acts that paid less than
$20 a night. Bruce, in his words, became "afraid I
didn't have it as a comedian."
Bruce took
rejection hard, finally giving up comedy to join the
merchant marine. It was a promiscuous time for Bruce, as
he explored exotic brothels in Marseilles and other ports
of call. But after sleeping with about 400 women (his
count), Bruce's thoughts kept turning to Honey Harlowe, a
stripper he had met back in Baltimore. In 1951, at age 25,
Bruce and Harlowe wed. (They would divorce eight years
later.)
Within
months of his marriage to Harlowe, Bruce was wrapped up in
a scheme to solicit funds for a leper colony in British
Guiana.. After receiving a state charter "the Brother
Mathias Foundation" and stealing priests' uniforms
from a New York rectory, Bruce began making his pitch to
wealthy older women in Miami Beach. In three days, Bruce
had pulled in $8000. He made out a check for $2500 to the
leper colony and kept the rest for himself as
"operating expenses." Bruce's Miami fundraising
ended abruptly with his arrest for "panhandling"
in April, 1951, and Bruce and Harlowe headed to Pittsburgh
to begin a new life.
A car
accident in Pittsburgh, which nearly killed Honey, ended
Bruce's career with the Brother Mathias Foundation and
sent him back to the burlesque clubs, where his act took
on a new and sharper edge. One night in a California strip
club, he did his routine wearing only a pair of black
socks and shoes. It was a time for experimentation, as
Bruce describes the period of the mid-1950s in his
autobiography:
Four years
working in clubs--that's what really made it for me--every
night: doing it, doing it, doing it, getting bored and
doing different ways, no pressure on you, and all the
other comedians are drunken bums who don't show up, so I
could try anything. By 1957, Bruce had developed a
reputation as an edgy, innovative comedian. Typical of his
sketches was one called "Religions, Inc," in
which prominent church leaders from Pope John to Billy
Graham exchange money-raising tips at their company
headquarters. One admirer, Playboy's Hugh Hefner, arranged
for Bruce to come to Chicago and work a lucrative gig at
The Cloister. Steve Allen was impressed enough with Bruce
to put him on his nationally televised comedy show on
April 9, 1959. Allen introduced Bruce as "the most
shocking comedian of our time, a young man who is
skyrocketing to fame--Lenny Bruce!" On February 4,
1961, performing before a packed house at Carnegie Hall,
Bruce delivered what biographer Albert Goldman called
"the greatest performance of his career." The
show, finishing after two in the morning, included classic
bits on Las Vegas, the Ku Klux Klan, Dear Abby, and JFK.
Now at the height of his career, nightclub shows featuring
Bruce came in a charged atmosphere. According to critic
Nat Hentoff, every Bruce performance before a nightclub
audience was "laced with anxiety": "How far
will he go tonight?" Not everyone saw merit in
Bruce's work. His controversial and vulgarity-filled
routines led Time magazine and other publications to label
him as "a sick comic." Bruce immensely resented
the label, and saw his comedy as healthier than that of
many other comedy stars of the day from Shelly Berman to
Jerry Lewis to Henny Youngman, whose sketches found humor
in physical shortcomings and crude caricatures of the
Japanese (and other ethnic groups') physiognomy.
A
performance at the Jazz Workshop in San Francisco on
October 4, 1961 resulted in Bruce's first obscenity arrest
and trial. The arresting officer took special issue with
Bruce's use of the word "cocksucker." In
addition to focusing on the use of that word, Bruce's 1962
trial considered Bruce's use of the phrase "to
come" in a sexual sense and his story about his
father exposing himself and hanging a sign from his penis,
"When we hit $1500 [in ticket sales for Bruce's
show], the guy inside the ticket booth is going to kiss
it." The defense tried to demonstrate that Bruce's
sketch was not offensive in the very liberal community of
the district in which the Jazz Workshop was located, that
Bruce's comedy was socially important (the defense
compared Bruce to Aristophanes, Rabelais, and Jonathan
Swift) and did not appeal to the prurient interest of the
arresting officer or anyone else. In the end, the jury
agreed and acquitted Bruce on the obscenity charge.
The San
Francisco trial proved to be the beginning, not the end,
of Bruce's legal troubles. In October 1962, Bruce was
arrested following his show at the Unicorn in Los Angeles.
Less than two months later he was charged with violating
an Illinois obscenity statute during a performance at the
Gate of Horn in Chicago, and six weeks after the Chicago
arrest, Bruce faced obscenity charges for a show at the
Troubadour in Los Angeles. As if Bruce didn't have enough
on his legal plate, in February, 1963, Bruce was arrested
on a narcotics charge in California during a recess in his
Chicago trial. (In June 1963, Bruce entered the State
Rehabilitation Center in Chico, California for treatment
of drug addiction resulting from amphetamine prescriptions
for lethargy apparently caused by a bout of severe
hepatitis during his Navy service.)
Tried in
abstentia in Chicago, an all-Catholic jury found Bruce
guilty of violating state obscenity laws after one hour of
deliberations. According to prosecution evidence, Bruce
had held up a picture of a naked woman and said,
"God, your Jesus Christ, made these tits." He
also was accused of using the words "fuck" and
"smuck" and of suggesting that if we lost World
War II, "they would have strung Truman up by the
balls." Finally, witnesses accused Bruce of mocking
the Catholic Church. In March 1963, the Chicago judge
(also a Catholic) sentenced Bruce to one year in jail. He
remained free on bond, however, during his appeal. (In
July 1964, the Illinois Supreme Court reversed Bruce's
conviction, finding his speech protected by the First
Amendment.).
On April 1,
1964, four New York City vice squad officers attended
Bruce's performance at the Cafe Au Go Go in Greenwich
Village. The officers arrested Bruce and owner Howard
Solomon following Bruce's 10:00 P.M. show. Assistant
District Attorney Richard Kuh presented a grand jury with
a typed partial script of Bruce's performance including
references to Jackie Kennedy trying to "save her
ass" after her husband's assassination, Eleanor
Roosevelt's "nice tits," sexual intimacy with a
chicken, "pissing in the sink," the Lone Ranger
sodomizing Tonto, and St. Paul giving up
"fucking" for Lent. The jury indicted Bruce on
the obscenity charge. The trial before a three-judge court
in New York City that followed stands as a remarkable
moment in the history of free speech. Both the prosecution
and defense presented parades of well-known witnesses to
either denounce Bruce's performance as the worst sort of
gutter humor or celebrate it as a powerful and insightful
social commentary. Among the witnesses testifying in
support of Bruce were What's My Line? panelist Dorothy
Kilgallen, sociologist Herbert Gans, and cartoonist Jules
Feiffer. In the end, the censors won. Voting 2 to 1, the
court found Bruce guilty of violating New York's obscenity
laws and sentenced him to "four months in the
workhouse."
Ronald
Collins and David Skover, in their book The Trials of
Lenny Bruce: The Fall and Rise of an American Icon,
describe the downward spiral brought on by Bruce's legal
problems:
The
obscenity busts took their toll. They wore him down, trial
by trial, dollar by dollar, year after year. Between 1961
and 1966, he gradually became a pathetic caricature of the
Time magazine man he once was. From the Nehru to raincoat
to denim jacket periods, he took more drugs and more
chances. Now, the law was his main routine. On June 25,
1966, the bankrupt Bruce gave his last performance, at the
Fillmore in California. Five weeks later, on August 3,
1966, police and press converged on his Hollywood Hills
home. Lenny Bruce was dead of a morphine overdose. He was
found lying naked, except for trousers gathered at his
ankles, on his tiled bathroom floor. Near his body was a
syringe, a burned bottle cap, and various narcotic
instruments
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