Those celebrities of yesteryear are gone. I hadn’t thought about Clifton Fadiman in years. The other day I saw his daughter Anne Fadiman has published a memoir about her father called “The Wine Lover’s Daughter.” That’s when it all came flashing back; his distinctive voice and name; Clifton Fadiman. I recalled my youthful goal to become as smart as he was.
I had to read it, tantalized by the prospect of entering a world of her recollections of what it had been like to be the daughter of such an impressive fellow. In “The Wine Lover’s Daughter,” readers will discover that Clifton Fadiman reinvented himself as a youth and that enabled him to become an American success story.
His daughter unearthed elements of her father’s past. He rarely discussed his humble roots. Clifton Fadiman grew up in Brooklyn: “He shared a bed with his brothers in a succession of shabby, triple-locked apartments over a series of unsuccessful drugstores operated by his father, under whose guidance he jerked sodas, prepared salves, rolled pills, sold leeches, and dispensed condoms (which he thought were called ‘conundrums’ and was informed were for storing toothbrushes).”
He was reading by age 4. She writes “he became an expert in ambulatory reading, able to step on and off curbs and avoid bumping into pedestrians while walking to and from the library with a book in front of his face. His family wondered how he would find work when he grew up, since all he seemed able to do was read.”
His diligent reading opened a gateway. His transformation began while working his way through Columbia University. One of his professors introduced him to the head man at the publisher Random House, the aforementioned Bennett Cerf, who promptly hired him to translate two books from the original German.
Her father was a celebrity before she was ever born. The New Yorker hired him as its book critic. He became a star quiz-show host on the radio. He made the transition to TV. He wrote books and was a long-time editor for The Book of the Month Club.
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On a trip to France he had found his lifelong passion, fine wines.
Anne observed as he savored rare vintages and how he hoped to share his delight in wine with her. Throughout the book she recounts her numerous failed attempts to gain the same appreciation for wines that her father did. It wasn’t meant to be.
He was successful. He collected wine. On his 80th birthday he drank a bottle his own age. The pleasure he got from wine remains elusive for her and she wonders, are her taste buds deficient? Her father had faults. Even so, this is an affectionate remembrance of a man who savored books, wines, and a long life.
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