and-“African passions” Phonyland isnnaturally peopled by handsome heroesnand beautiful heroines.nMike’s wife (Tracy) is a beauty. Asnhe leaves her and has never-ending lovenaffairs (of course) amid magazine-gourmet-columnnfood (to be sure) and drinksn(how else?), every mistress of his is asnbeautiful as he is handsome: “He paidnthe bill and they got up and walked towardnthe door, the other men in thenrestaurant staring at her and the womennstaring at him.”nAs is typical of mass culture, IrwinnShaw’s love scenes between the handsomenhero and beautiful heroines seemnto have been copied from previous,nsimilar pulp:n”… a certain expression in Tracy’sneyes, an impatient twist of her head,nher erect, straight carriage, the slendernbut voluptuous body, the satinnfeel of her skin . . .”nIt pains me to ask the writer whom Inonce admired: “Mr. Shaw, have younknown, experienced, observed, any realnpeople in real love or anything real innreal life, or is all you know just badnmovies or bad television plays or previousnbad novels?” Is there a woman (man ornchild) who would not have a certainnexpression in her (or his) eyes? An “impatientntwist of her head.” Her “erect,nstraight carriage.” The “slender butnvoluptuous body.” Good heavens. Therenis only one phrase that can match allnthat for banality, and this phrase is:n”the satin feel of her skin.”nSome thirty pages later another heroinenhas “slender but well-rounded hipsnand behind.” Note that even a wellroundednbehind is slender. In about 100npages, still another heroine “was thinnand angular,” yet Mike saw that she wasn”full and rounded.”nThere are no women in The Top ofnthe Hill. There is only one femalenHollywood – television – mass – magazine -npulp-novel mannequin, and all IrwinnShaw can say about her is that she isnneither bony nor fat (indeed, her well-nS6inChronicles of Culturenrounded behind is slender).nJlvery episode of the 340-page fillernis striking for its irrelevance and banality.nTen pages, for example, are suddenlyndevoted to Mike’s and his father-inlaw’snsailing in a storm. (Apparently,nMike’s father-in-law also seeks mortalndanger to prove his male independence.)nAbout as many pages are devoted to thenstory of how Mike was stopped fornspeeding and how he managed to getnarrested because he gave smart StanfordnUniversity answers to the policeman’sncollege-untutored questions: “Wheren. . . were you going?” “I was escaping.”n”Escaping from what?” “The old ennui.”nThe hero and his heroines are all equallynsmart and speak the same smart language,nin contrast to dumb policemen.nThen follows the sugary story about an16-year-old black waitress whom Mikenhelps to become a pop singer and a skinracer. Thrust into this 340-page mishmashnis a certain shifty, ugly Frenchncabaret pianist, a stereotype, or caricature,nwhose Hollywood vices set off thenFor the IntelligentnNoneconomlstnGeorge Reisman: The GovernmentnAgainst the Economy; CarolinenHouse Publishers; Ottawa, Illinois.nby William E. CagenIf you have ever looked for a housenin a strange town, tried to figure outnwhy your car wouldn’t start, or helped anfifth-grader with his “new math” homework,nyou know that knowledge isnscarce—and valuable. In fact, when wenneed knowledge, we usually contactnsomeone who earns a living by sellingnit. The real-estate broker knows whatnhouses are for sale; the mechanic knowsnDr. Cage is a corporate economist fromnJoplin, Missouri.nnnhero’s Hollywood virtues. To enable himnto pose as a skiing instructor, Mikencompels him to fall down the stairs andnpretend he broke his leg. The Frenchmanncomplies, breaks his leg “for real,”nand several pages later he is hired as ancabaret pianist.nThe dust jacket describes Mr. IrwinnShaw as a “lifelong athlete,” and itnmight seem that he could at least describenskiing true to ABC facts. “Henskied … on ice, always at full speed …”nOne cannot ski on ice at full speed. Onnice, one usually has to pick one’s skisnup and carry them, unsportsmanlikenas it may seem to Mr. Irwin Shaw. Evennskiing is phony in Phonyland.nOome Russian writers of the 20’snwho showed a promise of genius became,nin the Soviet propaganda environment,nrun-of-the-mill hacks. Evidentlynthe American literary-critical establishmentnis quite potent, too, if it has convertednthe author of The Gentle Peopleninto yet another phony stuck so deepninside his Phonyland. Dnhow automobiles run; the teacher notnonly knows the subject but also (hopefully)nhow to help someone else understandnit.nThe more difficult that knowledge isnto obtain, or the more valuable it is innits uses, the more compensation it obtainsnin the marketplace. But there arensome kinds of knowledge which are notneven offered for sale, if for no othernreason than it would be impossible fornany finite group of people to possessnthem. A case in point is the knowledgenrequired to effectively and efficientlynmanage the economy. Even with thenhigh-powered computers available today,nit would be impossible to allocate allnscarce resources (labor, capital, etc.) tontheir best use. Even if we could list alln