In Black and White: The Life of Sammy Davis Junior Read Online Free PDF Page B

May was also there. On the last page of the book, Sammy—or Jane, or Burt—writes, in a scene that allegedly took place beside May’s hospital bed after the birth of their daughter, Tracey: “I’m going to build something good and strong and wonderful for us, and I’ll never let you down. I promise.” (Tender words—only by the time May held the book in her hands, Sammy was already letting her down, by sleeping with a couple of long-legged beauties from the
Golden Boy
cast.)
    The book, at 630 pages, is massive for the autobiography of a forty-year-old. The cover design is in bold yellow letters: YES I CAN. The publishers, on the flap jacket, describe the book as “a fullblooded, serious, intensely absorbing autobiography, written with the vitality, brilliance and aggressive greatness of Sammy Davis Jr.”
    The opening pages of the book are designed as a Hollywood musical’s credits might appear onscreen at movie’s beginning.
    There is an empty page:
    Y    E    S
    Another empty page:
    I
    Another empty page:
    C    A    N
    And then, on succeeding pages: THE STORY OF SAMMY DAVIS , JR ., BY SAMMY DAVIS , JR . AND JANE & BURT BOYAR .
    On the back of the jacket is a moody photo of our memoirist, seated. He is holding a cane and has his chin rested on the hand that grips the cane. It is a side portrait (from the right side, showing off the good eye), taken by Philippe Halsman, a much-admired fashion photographer. Davis is wearing a pinstripe suit jacket and a white shirt with cuff links. He is holding a cigarette in his right hand. He looks to be as deep in thought as Aristotle.
    His story, his life, in black and white. At the book’s beginning is an epigram:
    We ain’t what we oughta be
,
    we ain’t what we wanta be
,
    we ain’t what we gonna be
,
    but thank God we ain’t what we was
.
    The four lines sound like they might come from a Negro comic on a stage late at night—Dick Gregory or, say, Godfrey Cambridge, perhaps—over in Atlantic City. Or perhaps at the Apollo in Harlem. Note the bastardizing of the language, the verve—“We ain’t what we oughta be”—of street lingo. Actually, the author of those words is genuinely revered across America for his speeches, his verse. It is one of those rare instances when Martin Luther King, Jr.—in the book, his name is beneath the four lines—kneels down to embrace urban slang. The tone suits Sammy just fine.
    Farrar, Straus announced it would publish
Yes I Can
on September 19. The galleys, copies of the book for reviewers, had already gone out. Roger Straus was enough of an industry insider that privileged information about his books came to him without much effort. “First of September, Roger Straus called us and said, ‘Kids, don’t get too excited, but I think you got the front section [the book review] of the
Herald Tribune
,’ ” says Boyar.
    The kids couldn’t help but get excited. They were in their New York City apartment when Straus called, sitting on the floor. Just a mattress and a typewriter and a chair is all they had. They had ordered new furniture but ran out of money. They had never written a book, thus they had never felt the thrill—or the agony—of being reviewed. “[Straus] called me back,” Boyar says. “He said, ‘I got it in my hand.’ ” Straus proceeded to read them parts of the
Herald Tribune
review. It was written by the newspaper’s Eleanor Perry, and it was flat-out glowing. “He has written (or spoken on tape) a magnificent narrative. It is related with honesty, humanity, enormous intelligence, rage and humor,” Perry wrote. “For this reader it is the definitive documentary of The American Dream in America now.” Perry went on to praise Davis’s guts. “After he’s made it, after he has every glittering thing money can buy and an entourage ofdevoted fans and a magnificent house in a white suburb, he attempts suicide.” The newspaper wasn’t on the street yet; it was, in fact, days away