I don't know how many of you remember Frank Kofsky, but he wrote about jazz and other things, like politics, inevitably injecting (sometimes by force, it seemed) his Marxist beliefs into everything. He was of the sensationalist school of writers, people who make radical statements and espouse off-the-wall theories in order to attract the attention that their prose alone never could. Like Leonard Feather, he was a dishonest reporter who cared little for facts if they did not fit into his agenda. In the jazz world, Kofsky is probably best known for his 1971 book, Black Nationalism and the Revolution in Music, which was later renamed John Coltrane and the Jazz Revolution of the 1960's) and a lengthy parking lot interview with a remarkably patient Coltrane. In 1997, when Kofsky died, he was an Associate Professor of History at California State University, in Sacramento. Isn't it amazing how many "historians" don't get along with the truth—well, he was one.
I never met Frank Kofsky, but he threw himself at me in 1977, when something I wrote in Stereo Review did not sit well with him. It was an innocuous review of an album by pianist Joel Shulman, whom I had not heard before, but liked. Now that I see the review, I am embarrassed by how shallow it is, but that was not what gave Kofsky a fit and made him put a fresh sheet in his typewriter. He was outraged because I was unfamiliar with bassist Don Thompson. Notice (on the envelope, above) that he tags me as "Writer-manque" (a term of 18th century origin, meaning "unfulfilled"). Well, here's my short review and the letter it prompted Kofsky to a Letter to the Editor:
Click on any image to enlarge it.
Stereo Review's Editor in Chief, Bill Anderson, responded with a short note—my reply was somewhat longer. I probably should have corrected Kofsky's spelling of Moe Koffman's name, but we were already getting close to overdosing on pettiness.
About three months later, Kofsky reacted, taking a stab at my editor and getting in a word about my "scandal-mongering 'biography' of Bessie Smith," a book from which he would eventually extract information for use in an attack on John Hammond.
Bill Anderson received a cc of the letter and sent me a copy with advice and opinion:
Bill did not reply to Kofsky, but I sent him a nasty little note, hoping—in my naïvité—that it would bring this exchange to a close. Of course, it didn't, but it inspired my favorite Kofsky response. In fact, I liked it so much that I sent it and the rest of them to CSUS's administration, with a question: Should I not be worried about the author of these letters teaching young people?
As you can see, Kofsky reaction was quick and sloppy. My Bessie Smith book now became a "ragbag of gossip" written by a person with a compulsive interest in drunkeness (sic), homosexuality, and gutter life in general."
Kofsky's Post Script indicates that he either did not read my book or that he read it with the same inattention to detail that marks his own writing. But, of course, he was trying to align me with John Hammond—two birds with one stone, as it were.
I decided not to respond directly to Kofsky, forwarding the material to his employers was enough, and we all know when enough is enough.
About a month later, I received an anonymous post card from Springfield, Illinois. Even if he hadn't addressed me as "Miserable worm" or misspelled despicable, I would have known that it came from my favorite