BLACK
SUNSET :
By Clancy Sigal
Icon Books. 340 pages. £12.99. ISBN 978-178578-439-2
Reviewed by Jim Burns
Towards the end of his life Clancy Sigal was “Professor Emeritus at
the University of Southern California”, a position which might have
seemed somewhat at odds with his previous experiences as a soldier,
union organiser, Hollywood agent, blacklisted writer, journalist,
and novelist. I’ve missed out a few short-term jobs that he took
when he was being hounded from one to another by the FBI who had him
down as a subversive element. And then again, perhaps all the
adventures and misadventures connected with those occupations might
have been just what a professor needed in his background. No ivory
tower for him. He may have taught writing in his professorial role,
but he’d not come out of any creative writing programmes himself.
Sigal was born in
Sigal
joined the American Communist Party when he was fifteen, went into
the army when he was eighteen and, after a stint in
He left the
A second book that Sigal wrote,
Going Away, may well be
the one that he is best remembered for. An autobiographical novel,
it described his journey across the
Before leaving
He was also still mixing with radicals in
Sigal had some success as an agent, though the agency he was
employed by tended to limit his activities in various ways. They
were wary of his radical reputation. Still, he got to meet Peter
Lorre, Vincent Price, Gloria Grahame, Dorothy McGuire, Humphrey
Bogart, and others. He was a big enough film fan to be impressed,
sometimes almost awe-struck, at being in their presence. He has a
number of stories about the film-making process, again with a degree
of self-depreciation coming into them. Accidentally involved and
blacked up to play a native in a Curt Siodmak horror film, he
rightly incurs the contempt of the genuinely black actor, Woody
Strode. On another occasion, he angers Barbara Stanwyck by creeping
around a studio set, trying to get a look at her and in the process
disrupting a scene by knocking over some equipment.
If he’s star-struck by actors and actresses, he is interested in
writers. He refers to Daniel Fuchs, a novelist who published three
critically-acclaimed, but financially-unsuccesful, books in the
1930s, and then decided that
Insofar as the blacklist generally is concerned, Sigal points to how
many people it affected, not all of them well-known and therefore
largely overlooked when histories of the period are written. He did
meet Martin Berkeley, who probably held the record for the number of
names (155) he gave to HUAC, and he tells how Clifford Odets
addressed a meeting where he called on everyone to defy the
Committee, and the following day appeared before it and named names.
It was a sad time in Hollywood, and Sigal is honest enough to say
that he drew up a list of people he could name as communists or
ex-communists, and always wondered if he’d have used it had he been
called on to testify.
There are good people he meets. Dale Robertson, star of minor cowboy
films. And Peter Lorre, who for all his problems seems pleasant.
Donna Reed comes across as decent, and so does Dorothy McGuire. They
make a marked contrast to someone like the gossip-monger, Louella
Parsons, whose bad behaviour is overlooked because of the damage she
can wreak in her columns for newspapers. Sigal is also dismissive of
right-wing types like Ronald Reagan, John Wayne, and Ward Bond, all
of whom managed to stay safely in
Black Sunset
is a racy, fast-moving account of Sigal’s ups and downs in
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