Shelf Life — Scott Dickensheets: ‘A Short History of Las Vegas’ lives up to its title

Friday, Aug. 6, 1999 | 10:16 a.m.

Scott Dickensheets' books/magazines column appears Fridays. Reach him at 990-2446 or dickens@vegas.com.

Barbara and Myrick Land's "A Short History of Las Vegas" (University of Nevada Press, $15.95) starts with a mistake. Chapter 1's opening anecdote features Las Vegas Sun columnist Muriel Stevens driving a public radio crew around the city. The Lands spell her name "Stephens."

A minor mistake, perhaps (Muriel might disagree), but since such books -- even short ones -- are supposed to tighten down the screws of our historical knowledge, it's troubling nonetheless. If it can't be correct on the spelling of a name that appears in one of the state's major newspapers twice a week, what other lapses of fact-checking might there be? Errors that might harden into immutable false fact as future writers base their research on this book?

Still, the book rights itself quickly. Assuming the veracity of the rest of the material, "A Short History" presents a light, tight version of the city's past. Smartly, the Lands (Myrick died in 1998) take us way, way back, to the prehistoric era, which, for you newcomers, means before Bugsy single-handedly built Las Vegas from the raw desert.

Along with the fun anecdotes about the ancient inhabitants, the Spanish explorers, the Mormon settlers, the railroad years, the onset of gaming, the mob era and the rest, the book offers some amusing historical ironies. One old-timer remembers, "People in the city of Reno or Northern Nevada would have been very happy if Las Vegas had seceded from the state. It was just so isolated that there didn't seem to be any possibility that it would grow." No sarcastic commentary required.

Likewise, a 1930s guide to the city noted that gaming kept a low profile: "No attempt has been made to introduce psuedo-romantic architectural themes, or to give artificial glamour and gaiety ..." No sarcastic commentary required.

Quibbles: The second half of the book dwells too narrowly on casinos, which may be the engine of the city's ascent but are not its only history.

A bit of well-placed skepticism would have served the Lands well. Their section on Laughlin, for instance, was quite upbeat. Well, I've been to Laughlin, and you'd have to staple me to a snowbird's RV to get me back.

The book crams Las Vegas into 240 pages; a short history indeed. You can feel the squeeze. It trades the stately majesty of much history writing for an anecdotal rush. Not a bad transaction, except for this: A lot of cool bits that didn't make the main narrative are printed in the margin, sometimes two to a page. You have to keep breaking away to read them, thwarting your reading momentum.

Nonetheless, for those new residents still wondering where the statue of Bugsy is, or for old residents who don't know how Las Vegas got this way, "A Short History" is far better than no history.

Reading list

Everything you wanted to know about Talk! But not today! Because, while Tina Brown's hot, buzzy, everyone's-talking-about-it new magazine has been available all week in the rest of the civilized world (see story, page 1E), no one here seems to have it yet.

"We won't get it until Aug. 8," the clerk at my local Borders said.

"Try next week," the clerk at Readmore said.

Even my best source for new magazines, the one place I can count on to have the latest issues on the shelf before the big book chains -- my local Smith's -- let me down. Southern Nevada is a no Talk zone.

Elsewhere, this is not a problem. "Los Angeles news vendors say they can barely keep the magazine on their shelves," Wednesday's Los Angeles Times reported. Some of them couldn't; at least two vendors sold their 200-copy allotment in two days. The story is accompanied by a picture you can't take in Vegas: people reading Talk.

The magazine is so must-have thanks in large part to the confessional cover story on Hillary Rodham Clinton, in which she chalks up Big Bill's infidelities to childhood psychological abuse. Talk's creator, Tina Brown -- former editor of Vanity Fair and the New Yorker -- has a black belt in buzz, the mystical art of being on everyone's lips; she is a Shaolin priestess of self-promotion. (If you look closely, you can see a Rolodex and speed-dial seared onto her wrists.)

Talk's unavailability here is another demonstration of what, because I can't think of a better term, I'll call Vegas Cultural Lag Syndrome. Put in precise sociological terminology, it means cool stuff takes a long ol' time to get here. It's happened before: Clerks at my local Borders probably still have nightmares about me charging the information desk, features contorted from the torque of pure, unrequited passion, barking, "You ever gonna carry Brill's Content?"

This suggests that, for all of this city's presumption of cultural dominance, the white-hot sensibility that Las Vegas is a bona fide big city, a happening spot, when it comes to what's really happening, we might as well be Des Moines. "This blows away the idea that Las Vegas is some sort of cosmopolitan big deal," my friend the Miffed Magazine Junkie huffed.

Or maybe not. According to media reports, they can't find Talk in Chicago, either.

Unhot does not necessarily mean cool: Rolling Stone is no Talk; it usually hits the stands DOA. I rarely buy it except out of duty to this space; yeah, the Shelf Life ain't no good life, but it's my life.

My companion in Friday afternoon columnizing, the sagacious Sound Check writer Geoff Carter, has already held forth on Rolling Stone's weaknesses as a music publication, so I'll hold back on that. My gripe is that hardly anything in the magazine holds the attention.

The current issue, with sultry sexpot Angelina Jolie on the cover, is the annual Hot Issue. Inside, it certainly tries to live up to its billing; you could fry eggs on some of the photos of Jolie. But look at the articles: the Jolie profile and a chat with the sexy young stars of "American Pie." You need a paperweight to keep that stuff from floating away. A report on White House cyber terrorism policy by William Greider adds a little ballast, and a story on the "rock-porn connection" promises to be fun -- if, of course, you're into that sort of thing. OK, maybe it's a Warm Issue.

Until you get to the Hot List; here, the pilot light flickers out. "Hot TV Character": The Gay Guy. Duh; that's been obvious for a while. "Hot Cameo": Meat Loaf. Zzzz. You'd think that reading a really hot hot list would make you feel Zeitgeistier, more in-the-know, 15 minutes ahead of now. Me, I was left cold.

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