Though I've read many books on obscure topics, Becky Nicolaides' 'My Blue Heaven' surely tops them all for being a conversation-stopper. Telling someone you're reading a history of a blue-collar suburb of Los Angeles through the middle decades of the 20th century nearly guarantees eye-glazing, if not outright abandonment. Yet, if a reader has even a passing interest in any of the ambitious ground Ms. Nicolaides covers--urban trends, suburban sociology, the political emergence in the 1960s of the famous "silent majority," among many others--I wholeheartedly recommend this work. Only some thready allegations in the final chapter mar an otherwise superb survey.I'll also admit to a personal interest. Both my parent's families--at least two generations worth--hail from these neighborhoods. Beyond some sketchy childhood memories from the 60s, I don't have any solid impressions of how my immediate ancestors grew up and therefore found myself riveted by--in essence--a detailed family history.
So beyond supplying a nearly endless string of familial "ah-ha!" moments for me, Ms. Nicolaides also blankets her study with incredible (and often myth-puncturing) detail; among them:
* Impressive majorities of pre-WW2 homeowners actually *built* their own homes in the south LA "suburbs." Prototypical developer housing arrived much later.
* In the late 20s (*before* The Depression) the average household spent over a third of its income on food--but only a quarter on housing
* As soon as LA residents could drive, they did: 50% of residents owned a car by *1925* (concurrently compared to 16% nationwide, and 9% in Chicago), and as many commuted to downtown as took (excellent and cheap) public transit. This early automotive embrace neatly skewers the "Roger Rabbit myth," i.e., that evil oil companies "forced" Angelenos into smog-belching cars and conspiratorially drove the beloved streetcars out of business
* Teenagers commonly hitchhiked (!) to popular hangouts like movie theaters and the beach
This list could go on and on. The author is nothing if not comprehensive--and, as shown, she backs up her claims with reams of statistics. A more nuanced and revealing portrait of emerging suburban America would be hard to find.
But the book reaches far beyond strings of lifestyle anecdotes, however fascinating and well-supported. The formation and consolidation of local political attitudes provide both the strongest and most contentious parts of her thesis. The author rarely misses a chance to show how these blue-collar suburbanites swung from being 1920s "Republicans" (boot-strapping home-builders and farmers) to 1930s/40s "Democrats" (New Deal-embracing proponents of post-war government expansion)--and finally back to 1960s "Republicans" (anti-Civil right protectionists), the so-called "silent majority." Her best work shows the underpinnings of these political transformations, fleshing out how they were both formed at the local level and reflected nationally.
My strongest objection to her political theses comes in her final chapter--on race. Leaving aside any sensitivities about my south LA relatives being natural bigots (I can personally attest that many were), I'll only note that the author fails to connect some obvious dots about neighborhood segregation. For example, after a withering critique of blatant bigotry shown by the New Deal-spawned Home Owners Loan Corporation--their notorious loan appraisal maps included such lovely language as "blighted," "menace," and "subversive racial elements" while denying loans to blacks and hispanics--she conveniently neglects mentioning this government segregation complicity in any later contexts. This omission struck me as especially curious since she saves her strongest venom later for white homeowners who opposed many civil rights measures on economic grounds. Whether whites were segregationist bigots or trying to protect their property values (or both), to neglect the money-loaning agent who initially subsidized these conditions struck me as selective at best.
A further racial swipe perhaps comes closer to the author's philosophical biases. After noting that Southern migrants to the area brought "a new style of working-class populism, melding racism, economic populism, and anti-elitism," (a point I'll surely concede) she notes in the same paragraph that "self-help, Americanism, homeowner rights, and a distaste for activist government persisted as core values (among residents); in the new context of economic prosperity and racial encroachment, they *blended easily with the southern political style*." (Italics mine.) We're to conclude that racism and populism "blended easily" with self-help and "Americanism" (whatever that is)? To be fair, Nicolaides sets the context ("The values forged in the distinctive context of working-class suburbia during the interwar years fused smoothly with these imported ideals"), but unlike the rest of the book she provides no evidence for these profound statements.
Ultimately, I found 'My Blue Heaven' a five star effort with a severe markdown for these objections. Aside from an occasional anti-capitalist sneer ("the vagaries of the free market subjected working people to lives of economic instability ...")--almost *de rigeur* from an academic, I suppose--I found her scholarship sound, her organization tight, and her supporting data nearly overwhelming. (Indeed, she is her own worst enemy as topics lacking evidence clearly stand out.) I discovered more here about my parents and relatives than I could have probably ever unearthed on my own and for that Ms. Nicolaides has my utmost gratitude and respect.
