E.L. Doctorow is probably New York's greatest literary nostalgia artist. While "Ragtime" recalls the city's colorful population explosion of immigrants at the beginning of the twentieth century and "Billy Bathgate" is a boy's Depression-era underworld fantasy, "World's Fair" evokes what it might have been like to grow up in the Bronx in the 1930's. The narrator, Doctorow's voice and presumed alter ego, is a Jewish boy named Edgar Altschuler who is about nine by the time the book ends, so it remains in a state of pre-pubescent innocence without entering into the turbulent years of adolescent awakening.
Edgar is an extremely observant child who is fascinated by the intricacies of the most mundane things and events. Normal kid routines like school, ball games, movies, comic books, and radio programs are described in loving detail as though he were eager to explain to his jaded adult readers what's so special about being a kid. Similarly, tragedies like the death of his grandmother, witnessing a woman getting hit by a car, and meeting terminally ill children in the hospital take on perceptively morbid new dimensions through Edgar's words.
The members of Edgar's immediate family are so realistic they seem like sepia-tinted photographs come to life. His father Dave co-owns a music store and, far from being the moral compass a father's role is traditionally given, is somewhat irresponsible and irreverent, a social activist about thirty years ahead of his time. Edgar's mother Rose is a bundle of anxiety, worrisome and contentious from living in a house full of men. His older brother, Donald, and uncle Willy are both musically inclined, one a failed bandleader, the other destined to be a failed bandleader.
That Edgar is Jewish is an indispensable part of the story, as it defines his upbringing and characterizes his family, friends, and the neighborhood. From his strictly observant maternal grandmother to his atheistic paternal grandfather, there is a wide range of piety among his family members, which makes for lively scenes at rituals such as the Passover Seder. Nothing, however, raises the little boy's Jewish consciousness so much as the appearances of swastika graffiti in the neighborhood, threats from antisemitic hooligans, and Hitler's menacing shadow looming across the ocean.
Edgar's bittersweet final taste of youthful innocence is his long-anticipated and enthusiastic first visit to the 1939 World's Fair, an ironic symbol of man's proud achievements in the technological advancements of civilization considering the world was getting ready to destroy itself in war. The book ends with Edgar burying a time capsule in a nearby park in imitation of the one buried at the Fair, and it becomes apparent that this novel is meant to be Doctorow's personal time capsule.
Things we experience as children can be confusing and difficult to understand in all their aspects, but as adults we are able to articulate our thoughts and feelings about our childhood experiences with fresh insights that we didn't have at the time. That Doctorow does this so delicately and poetically in "World's Fair" makes his novel an absolute success.
