Drinking and Writing in Paris in the Twenties and Thirties

Familiarly known as the Paris Herald, the paper was named after the New York Herald Tribune when that paper became the property of the Reid family. Its proper name was the New York Herald, Paris Edition. It had been founded by James Gordon Bennett, Jr., on October 4, 1887, perhaps merely because, living in Paris himself, “Bennett wanted to keep busy with a paper near at hand.” In a still earlier manifestation it had been known as the Morning News, published in both English and French editions by one W. A. Hopkins of Brattleboro, Vermont. Bennett could not buy the French edition, which, after the sale of the English edition, became La Matin, one of the leading French papers.

Ronald Weber’s book is a history of the paper itself and of its rivals, and it is also a kind of Who’s Who of American journalism in Paris between the wars. The Herald had competition, notably Colonel McCormick’s Paris Tribune and a pallid imitation of the New Yorker called Le Boulevardier. Both of these papers occasionally equaled the Herald in the writers shown on their mastheads, which included names that are still potent: Floyd Gibbons, Vincent Sheean, William L. Shirer (who later also worked for the Herald).

Many American writers used the Herald and also the Tribune for an apprenticeship in journalism or as a meal ticket while they wrote novels and poetry. These included Ernest Hemingway, Scott Fitzgerald, Henry Miller, Elliot Paul, James Thurber, Samuel Putnam, and others. The list of staffers who made their names as journalists rather than in belles lettres is equally impressive: Edward R. Murrow, William L. Shirer, Dorothy Thompson, Sigrid Schultz, Harold Stearns, Janet Flanner.

Most American journalists came to Paris as refugees from Prohibition. As a result the offices of the Herald, the Tribune, and Le Boulevardier were suffused with an alcoholic haze, which occasionally thickened or thinned but was always present. The newspapers were all morning papers, so when the workday ended, around eleven o’clock at night, the thirsty workers sought surcease in the Dôme or another cafe for their serious drinking. It was a wonderfully undisciplined existence. It also gave rise to numerous anecdotes. For instance let us consider these about Hemingway and Gibbons.

Hemingway submitted to the Boulevardier a short story that was a parody of one by Louis Bromfield called “The Real French.” Hemingway’s effort was called “The Real Spaniard.” The publisher, Erskine Gwynne, thought it incomplete and turned the manuscript over to the editor, Arthur Moss, who after reading it asked, “Where’s the rest of it?” He in turn gave the manuscript to a staffer named Kiley, who added a final tidying paragraph. “The magazine was barely on the news-stands when Hemingway came roaring into the office with fire in his eye. The diminutive Moss took the rap. ‘Pipe down, big boy,’ he said. ‘I’m the editor and I rewrote your story for the better. What are you going to do about it?’ Ernest looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. ‘Stand up, and I’ll show you,’ he said. ‘I am standing up,’ Arthur said, and he really was.”

Working on the Tribune for Col. McCormick could be confusing. Weber describes a meeting called by McCormick to deal with a replacement for Floyd Gibbons, who had been fired for submitting a $20,000 expense account for a safari to Timbuktu, a trip that he took because he had always wanted to send his mother a card from Timbuktu. “McCormick began the session by asking how many of the correspondents spoke French, then in turn German and Italian. After brief hesitation he announced, ‘I think I will appoint Larry Rue chief roaming correspondent of the Tribune.’ Silence was deafening until someone pointed out that Rue spoke no foreign language. ‘That,’ said McCormick is exactly what I want. I don’t want my fine young American boys...