Sunday, February 17, 2019

Disney, Dali, and the Nazis

The spring semester is always a busy time in my office. This year, it is even more so, as I am working on a variety of projects in addition to the normal ebbs and flows of teaching and helping to administer our honors program -- not to mention all the activities going on at home! And yet, on this grey February day, I'm compelled to write an impromptu book review of a book I bought on a whim!

The book is W. Scott Poole's Wasteland: The Great War and the Origins of Modern Horror (2018). I became familiar with Dr. Poole from his work on the Civil War, some of which I read while working on Rebel Bulldog.  Like many academics, myself very much included!), Dr. Poole has more than one interest.  In his case, it is horror as a genre in popular culture.  While this isn't one of my interests, as I'm currently working on a book about the Great War, the book peaked my interest -- in part because last year I team taught a course on "Germans in America and Americans in Germany" with a colleague who has written on the topic of horror and who did a wonderful lecture about the impact World War I had on literature, art, and film. So, when I saw a social media post about the book, I ordered it, to see what it might bring to my own scholarship as well as to share with my colleague.

For all but two paragraphs, I was not disappointed. Poole's writing style is engaging, his narrative coherent and wide-ranging, and I walked away from the book feeling educated. Even at points where I didn't agree with his analysis, I understood and appreciated where he was coming from, and more often than not, I felt better about my own interpretation because I'd been forced to really think about it.  But the two paragraphs in question were about Disney, and they almost caused me to close the book before I was finished in despair.

The paragraphs come out of a discussion about Salvador Dali. I'll not rehash Poole's thesis about Dali (which largely jived with what I knew and was informative about things I didn't know), which is longer than the two specific Disney related paragraphs, and perhaps that's what bothered me first and foremost.  Walt Disney is tacked onto a section about Dali, because the  two worked together on the long gestating "Destino". Why became my first question: The Dali section of the book would have been fine without it.  Disney, on the surface, seems to be a difficult fit in a book about horror to begin with.  Perhaps Poole just wanted to "name drop" and add another line to his index.

Unfortunately, that is not the case. The two paragraphs do talk about "Distino" but then Poole opts to talk about Walt as a confirmed anti-Semite with a "sympathy for fascism" (194).  Indeed, that Walt was a secret Nazi, a fifth columnist of the most dangerous type, is confirmed by the fact that he ran a company that fought unionization, spoke out against communism, and likely (Poole is careful here to say that it is assumed but uncorroborated) attended meetings of the American Nazi Bund movement. In the end, the two paragraphs give us little information about Dali (in whose section they appear) and rehash old charges against Walt in what amounts to a deliberate smear.

Of course, I am a Disney historian, so such charges are nothing new. Indeed, I talk the charges of anti-Semitism against Walt, as well as the strike, his anti-communism (and lots of other things beside) in Dis-History.  And no, as I told a colleague, I do not agree with Poole's assessment. Neither, I think would most Disney historians, and it isn't because we are all in league with the family or the company. It is because the truth does not jive with the facts that we know, nor the evidence (including testimonials from Jewish employees).  None of that takes away from the fact that Walt (a real person) said things about particular people who were Jews that have the tinge of anti-Semitism about them, things perhaps we (and maybe even he) wish he hadn't said.  But such utterances do not make him a Nazi (anymore than similar kinds of statements make Franklin Roosevelt one).

And I'm not writing to defend those statements, even when put into the context of the time they were said, they were hurtful, and within the context of our time, a time that comes after the Holocaust, to seem even more so. Poole's source for some of the two paragraphs is Niel Gablor's work on Disney, and if that were his only source, it would be enough to say that perhaps Poole wanted to include a bit more on Disney, grabbed the nearest book, saw what he wanted to see, and used it for a note -- after all, we are only talking about two paragraphs--and in a section that isn't even about Disney, in a book that really has nothing to do with Walt. Except, those aren't the only two sources.  Poole cites two website/blogs sources, which at best can be considered outside the mainstream (and quite possibly, on the fringe.  If you are interested, dear readers, take a look at Paste or Dazed, the two websites in question).  It is actually these sources, not Gabler, where most of the salacious "details" Poole opts to include, seem to come from.  And unlike Gabler, these articles are light on sources and clearly have an agenda (one might disagree, and many have--including me, with Gabler's interpretation of facts, but his is still a largely scholarly biography of Walt). It is almost as if Gabler wasn't the first source at all, but rather the more reputable one that was included with these two articles to provide a bit of "cover."

That is disappointing, because it need not have been that way. Poole might have opted to mention Disney in connection to Dali.  Or not at all. Or he could have gone deeper.  He could have talked about Walt's service in World War I (which, after all, is the topic of his book) as part of the Red Cross ambulance corps in 1919.  He might have even gone into how Walt was different than some of the other people he chronicled -- Disney did not go down the horror route, instead seeking other artistic routes.  He could have mentioned the things he mentions, and provided context.  And he might have found it difficult to sustain the charges of "Walt as a Nazi", had he bothered to talk about Disney's work on behalf of the United States government during the war.  Of course, doing those things might have lead to different conclusions -- and a different book.  And of course, that's the easiest thing in the world for a reviewer to do:  Demand that the author have written something else.  In the end, Poole, wrote what he wrote.

As I've styled this post in the vein of a book review, I'll now end it as I do my more formal reviews, with a recommendation. If you are interested in how World War I helped create the genre we know as horror, Poole's book is an excellent place to begin.  It will introduce you to a who's who of people and works, from many different countries.  But don't take it as the gospel truth (to borrow a line from "Hercules") when it comes to Disney. There are other, better sources, than the ones Poole opted to use when it comes to such things.