Rothman’s ‘Neon Metropolis’ aglow with information

Max Jacobson

Monday, April 15, 2002 | 8:35 a.m.

Title: "Neon Metropolis."

Author: Hal Rothman.

Pages: 323.

Publisher: Routledge.

Price: $27.50.

Hal Rothman, an energetic young history professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, is a representative of the demographic that is propelling Las Vegas into the rank of major city. Equal parts sociologist, anthropologist and historian, Rothman treads a slippery double line in his book "Neon Metropolis" -- that of being both observer and participant.

Impressively, he never seems to lose his balance along the way.

The book has broad appeal, since Rothman is a natural storyteller.

Those interested in American labor must be drawn to the story of Al Bramlet, the Culinary Union boss who met a grisly fate. It's a safe guess most area residents never heard of him, yet he played a key role in shaping the city.

Interested in urban planning or architecture? More than perhaps any other American city, the story of Las Vegas is one of developers and job sites, of cheap labor and billionaire visionaries. Rothman takes us down a historical timeline of that industry, as well.

But it would be far too simple to label "Neon Metropolis" a comprehensive history of Las Vegas, because it looks forward as well as backward. This exhaustive work has a catchy subheading on the front cover, "How Las Vegas Started The 21st Century."

But the text covers subjects as diverse as Meyer Lansky, water politics, the new Hispanic migration, entertainment, community and the right to work, all within a framework that makes for a relatively breezy read.

The truth is, though, that Rothman is, at heart, an academe, and as readers soon discover, it is impossible to "get" Vegas without understanding some of our unique history. That is one of the dirty little secrets visiting journalists rarely unearth when they write about this town. Buried deep under all the desert dust is a long-term perspective, and Rothman kicks up enough PM10, the "ever blowing dust from tearing up the desert to build homes and schools," to have lawmakers scurrying to rewrite the Clean Air Act.

One of the FAQs visitors love to ask about is whether the mob still has a pervasive presence. Rothman answers that question eloquently and often, detailing how corporations led by such men as Del E. Webb and Howard Hughes eventually pushed out the old factions.

Another theme that runs consistently through this book is the paradox between public and private. There is a telling anecdote about the boundaries between a public sidewalk and a wooden walkway owned by a casino, and the author's attempt to circumvent them.

"Neon Metropolis" also happens to be a treasure trove of facts and figures, a Trivial Pursuit player's fantasy. Who knew, for instance, Sun City Summerlin contained 6,000 homes upon completion, or that McDonald Ranch topped 2,500. How many of us are aware that North Las Vegas is nearly 85 percent Hispanic, or that Ronald Reagan bombed as a show host at the Last Frontier in 1954?

As interesting as the book will be to the outsider, however, it has far more relevance to people living in Las Vegas. An entire chapter on traffic, for instance, may be both scary and compelling for a Las Vegas resident. But reading about the Spaghetti Bowl for someone in a suburb of St. Louis, or anywhere else outside Clark County, for that matter, isn't likely to be a page turner.

So the question becomes this: For whom is this book written? No literary agent would like to limit his writer's book to a niche market. But in the final analysis, "Neon Metropolis" works best for those who experience or have experienced Las Vegas firsthand, as a member of the community.

"Neon Metropolis" is interesting fodder for the masses. The good news is that it should be required reading for anyone serious about living in Las Vegas, or considering a move to our ever-expanding valley.