Sunday book pick: Dorothy Baker’s jazz novel ‘Young Man With a Horn’ gets you grooving

“It is the story of a number of things – of the gap between the man’s musical ability and his ability to fit it to his own life; of the difference between the demands of expression and the demands of life here below; and finally of the difference between good and bad in a native American art form – jazz music.”

Dorothy Baker started her novelist career writing about what she liked best – jazz. Published in 1938, Young Man with a Horn is based on the music of the cornet player, Bix Beiderbecke. The afterword by writer and critic Gary Giddins in the NYRB Classics edition of the book mentions that Beiderbecke “showed that jazz was a music of universal expression and not an exclusively African American phenomenon that whites could only mimic.”

Critics were impressed by Baker’s seemingly intimate knowledge of the jazz world, but jazz and film critic Otis Ferguson noted the absence of swing, which was the most popular type of jazz at the time of the novel’s publication. He wrote in his review, “So while I know this to be a good book for any man’s money, I cannot report on just how good it will be to those who, not having seen the beauty it talks of as it was passing [that is, 1920s’ jazz], will merely read, digest, and file away some bit of its wide range of knowledge.”

For the love of jazz

For her part, Baker was forthcoming about her love for the genre. She once famously said, “Jazz music was one of the very few things I knew much about, and the only thing, except writing, that I had a consistent, long-term interest in.”

Nevertheless, the novel has endured for nearly a century not for what it got right (or wrong) about the golden age of jazz, but for its timeless observations on the discovery, decay, and oblivion of creative talent.

What makes Young Man With a Horn such a winning read is also its effervescent prose. Baker is entirely original in this regard too – she keeps it simple, doing away with “technical” language that might make it hard for jazz-dumb readers (such as myself) to follow.

The Prologue, narrated by an unfamiliar third person, immediately clarifies that the hero of the novel, White jazz musician, Rick Martin, has died before turning 30. Orphaned as a child, the Prologue brings the reader up to speed about Rick’s musical genius, his wayward ways, and a brief brush with romance. The reader prepares themselves for a biography of a tortured genius, but what they are rewarded with is a deeply emotional story of friendship and artistic camaraderie.

Rick has been preparing for this all his life. As a child, he showed no interest in school, only reluctantly moving through the grades upon the insistence of his uncle and aunt. His heart, even then, was in jazz. A predominantly Black music genre at the time, Rick latches on to Smoke Jordan, a “negro” jazz musician. Together they meet pianist Jeff Williams and his jazz band (all Black), and they drink and play music all night long. A White man (a rare minority anywhere), Rick is ready to bear the disadvantage of his racial identity if it means finally learning to make music with the same energy and finesse as his Black peers.

Smoke and Rick quickly become friends, speaking the universal language of music and ambition. While Rick wants to take up the “horn”, Smoke wants to become a drummer. With Smoke’s help, Rick wins Jeff and trumpet player Art’s affection, and they train him to play the piano and the trumpet.

His newfound fame as a young talent is juxtaposed with the deep friendships he has come to form. The fame and busyness are welcome, but what Rick cherishes most is the family he finds along the way. He makes friends and finds mentors easily as he travels from city to city, playing jazz. The enigmatic Amy North, who makes an entry into Rick’s life at this juncture, brings with her familiar storms of young romance. The heady mix of infatuation, ambition, and heavy drinking will cost Rick his life.

The joy of jazz

Baker writes wonderfully about the addictive hold of jazz on young musicians. She has an ear for music and seems to have spent many a day hanging out at jazz bars, imagining the lives of the men who create it. Smoke and Rick’s friendship is affected by her feminine touch – we notice deep loyalty and frankness, which are often associated with female friendships. In fact, there is very little aggression in a novel entirely populated by men.

However, the most fascinating question in Baker’s novel is that of race. It is unfair to hold Baker to today’s standards but in the novel, race is contemplated as a factor for determining talent and genius. And yet, Baker’s deliberate choice of a White musician desperate to be taken seriously and make a place for himself among his Black peers seems to suggest that the most beautiful tunes may only be created if we favour the spirit over skin colour. A rather earnest statement from a female debut novelist of her time!

Young Man With a Horn, Dorothy Baker, NYRB Classics.