Gerald W. Haslam (1937–2021)

Very much a work in progress, like it says in the title. This is really five sketches towards a larger work which I assume Eastlake gave up on (it was his last published fiction). The action takes place in and around — mostly around — the author's prep school in the 30's, and we're treated to lots of his trademark wise-ass back-and-forth dialogue, but this time in the mouths of well-off boys rather than Navajo or GI's. The scenarios, are framed by the madness and committal of the Creative Writing teacher, Miss Coca, and the ancient (Civil War vet) Whitmanesque school doctor, and we get glimpses of the depression and the troubles ahead filtered through the halcyon haze of privileged boyhood. It's fine as far as it goes, worth seeking out for fans of Eastlake.

I read two of the six Gerald Haslam stories published "back to back" in this volume and hated both of them.… (meer)

Everybody's heard of Los Angeles and San Francisco. Fewer know Bakersfield, and practically nobody ever heard of Oildale, Taft, Buttonwillow, Ford City, McKittrick, or Maricopa. But these dusty San Joaquin Valley towns, some now gone to ruin, are Haslam country. Most owe much of their colorful history to oil discoveries and the Dust Bowl migrants who brought southern food , speech rhythms, and the flavor of country music to a landscape claimed mostly by jackrabbits and rattlesnakes. Oildale native Haslam shares his personal coming of age experiences in these essays that capture the spirit of a time, people, and place, with some statewide wanderings thrown in for spice. Overall a wonderful California memoir, Coming of Age in California proves not only is there life beyond the state's big cities and freeways, but also heart.---Val Morehouse. reviewer val@valmorehouse.com… (meer)

In this collection of essays by Gerald Haslam, he explores what it means to be from the San Joaquin Valley of California, a massive stew of cultures and people. As an Oildale boy and a product of Okie and Hispanic heritage, his perspective is entrenched in valley dirt and hard work.

I seek out books on my home region, and I now count this among my favorites. Haslam shows the valley as it is. He speaks with pride about the labor of Okies struggling to emerge from the poverty of the dust bowl, and the Mexican migrants working the fields today. He explores the racism of Taft in the 1970s, and the grief of his mother's slow decline and death. It's a moving work. Haslam struck me as someone who I could simply sit near for the joy of hearing him speak about the old days and the promise of the future.

I found this comparative to David Mas Masumoto's Letters to the Valley, the sort of work that makes me proud of where I come from and homesick to return. This is a keeper.… (meer)