Announcements

Announcements of publications, appearances, reviews, and other good news.

AnnouncementsWomen & Car Writing

Limousine

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

Participating in academic conferences is not only a great opportunity to present one’s work, but leads to encounters with other scholars with similar interests. While presenting at the Popular Culture Association National Conference a number of years ago, I was included on a panel with Katherine Parkin, a professor of social history at Monmouth University. Parkin had just published Women at the Wheel: A Century of Buying, Driving, and Fixing Cars, which went on to win the Emily Toth Award for best book in women’s studies and popular culture. Since we were both writing about women and cars, we had a lot to talk about. While my scholarship is primarily limited to that topic, as a historian Parkin writes on a variety of subjects; her research interests include the history of women and gender, sexuality, advertising, and consumerism. Parkin is often sought after to engage in various projects; however, as both a teacher and researcher she does not always have the time to accept all of the invitations. To my good fortune, Parkin has passed on some of those projects to me. These have included a book review, a chapter in a book on the history and politics of motorsports, and the most recent, an introduction to Limousine – a recently published book of award-winning photographs by Kathy Shorr.

The photographs in Limousine were taken in 1988, shortly after Shorr graduated from the School of Visual Arts in New York. For this project, Shorr became a limo driver for nine months, working for the Crystal Limousine Company in Brooklyn. Unlike the majority of Brooklynites who did not possess driver’s licenses, eschewing the automobile in favor of public transportation, Shorr grew up a car girl; she purchased her first car – a Buick Skylark – while still a teen. Thus the decision to select a limo for this project came naturally to Shorr as it satisfied her love of driving while the vehicle served as a studio on wheels. As I write in the intro, “The limo’s posh interior served as a private space for personal conversations, boisterous drinking parties, and more than a few romantic interludes. While the limousine served a practical purpose, it also transmitted messages about those who rode in it. Shorr’s passengers called upon the limousine to construct new, albeit temporary, versions of themselves, captured forever on black-and-white film.” The photos in this collection are extraordinary, effectively capturing a place in time and the people who inhabited it.

I truly enjoyed working on this special project. Shorr was a delight to work with and peppered our conversations with engaging and often humorous car stories. I am so proud to be a part of this amazing endeavor, and am honored that I was selected to write the introduction. Of course it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for a chance meeting with Katie Parkin at PCA. So thank you to Katie and Kathy. I am forever grateful for the connections I have made in this third act of my life.

Limousine is published by Lazy Dog Press.

Announcements

A New Role – SAH VP

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

A few years back a fellow female automotive scholar [there are so few of us] encouraged me to join the Society of Automotive Historians. As I am not a historian, a true car enthusiast, or particularly knowledgeable about cars, my first response was to graciously decline. However, this individual pressed upon me that as the organization was overwhelmingly male in membership, it would be in the best interest of the SAH to have a greater female presence. I therefore somewhat begrudgingly joined, and spent the first couple of years reading club publications, attending a few SAH events, and getting to know some of the major players.

When this same individual was elected to the Board, she persuaded me run in the next election. Not surprisingly, I lost. But as I started getting more active in the organization, I took on a few projects so that folks could see that although I was not nearly as knowledgeable as the majority of the membership, I was hard working and serious about my commitment to the SAH.

I was elected to the Board at the following election, and over the next few years took on responsibilities as chair of the Awards Committee and Bricks and Mortar Working Group. I participated in a number of SAH sponsored conferences, wrote a couple of book reviews for the SAH Journal, and had a number of articles published in the Automotive History Review, the premier publication of the SAH. I worked especially hard on the Bricks and Mortar Working Group, securing partnerships with two institutions to house the SAH archives. However,I believe the turning point in my relationship with SAH was the publication of an article in AHR that reflected on my experiences as a woman in automotive advertising in the 1980s. This insight into an unknown and often mysterious area of the automotive industry – a business which non-ad people find fascinating – gave me some legitimacy. I finally felt like I was not an SAH interloper, but perhaps in some way deserved to belong.

About a year ago the notion of my running for SAH VP was tossed around. As it is expected that the VP will eventually be President, I was dismissive of the idea, since I do not have the personality [I am socially awkward] or organizational skills for such a position. Thus when I was officially asked to run, I declined. I thought the matter was settled, but I was so wrong. Over the course of two weeks I was contacted by a number of individuals asking me to reconsider my decision. Putting the flattery of such attention aside, I pondered long and hard as to whether I could, in fact, handle the job. I eventually accepted, and at the Annual Meeting earlier this week I was officially installed as the newly elected Vice President of the Society of Automotive Historians.

The next two years will be a challenge. But I have a lot of support, particularly from the newly elected President. He and I share a vision for the SAH which we hope to implement over the next 24 months. So here I am, a not particularly glib individual with an interest but not an expertise in automotive history presiding over an 50+ year organization with a commitment to the preservation and dissemination of automotive history for present and future generations. It’s been a fascinating journey to get here, but the real trip has only just begun. Wish me luck!

AnnouncementsWomen & Car Writing

Serendipitous Summer

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

Academic publication can work in strange ways. Getting a manuscript from submission to publication – with reviews, revisions, resubmissions, and restarts – can take a considerable amount of time. It can seem like ages before something is published, then all of a sudden multiple articles are released at the same time. That is what happened this summer. Projects I started years ago, as well as those written more recently, all appeared in print or online in the past couple of months. 

The first project published was a chapter on the history of women-only racing I was asked to write for a book on the history and politics of motorsports. While I was given rather broad guidelines – women in motorsports – I was able to craft a chapter – “From Powder Puff to W Series: The Evolution of Women-Only Racing” – that traced women’s involvement in segregated racing from the early years of motorsports until the beginning of the twenty-first century. While I entered the project rather ignorant of motorsports history in general and women’s motorsports involvement in particular, the staff at the International Motor Racing Research Center [IMRRC] in Watkins Glen, New York provided both materials and assistance for which I am extremely grateful.

The second article to appear was one developed from a virtual conference – co-convened by the Society of Automotive Historians and Automotive Historians Australia –  in which I participated last fall. The instructions for this project was to explore the ways in which the Australian and North American auto industries ‘shared parts and components, staff, expertise and skills, engineering, design and studio practices, business and management structures, and advertising and trade practices.’ Although I am not well versed in automotive history on either side of the Pacific, I decided to construct a historiography of women’s automotive history from Australian and American scholars. “Women & Automobiles Across Two Continents: An [Unfortunately] Brief Historiography of Women’s Automotive Scholarship in Australia and America” turned out to be an interesting endeavor, and provided me with the opportunity to put the skills I learned in graduate school – a shout out to BGSU professor of history Andy Schocket – to good use. I was contacted by the editor of the Automotive History Review to rework the presentation into a paper suitable for inclusion, to which I eagerly and gratefully consented.

The third project to reach fruition was “Pink Power: The Barbie Car and Female Automobility”. This project had a long and interesting journey from conception to publication. The idea was originally presented at the Popular Culture Association [PCA] virtual conference in 2020 during COVID. It was developed into a paper and submitted to an academic journal for consideration. It languished at the journal for months. I was asked to revise and resubmit, after which I waited another few months before being told that the article just wasn’t a good fit for the publication. The rejection turned out to be fortuitous. I resubmitted to The Journal of American Culture, and after making the recommended revisions, the article was published online just one week after the release of the Barbie film. Talk about perfect timing! This publication capped an incredible summer of published scholarship of which I am excited and proud.

I won’t experience another flurry of academic publishing activity for perhaps a year or two. I currently have two projects in process – in the writing and research stages, respectively. As I continue on these projects, I will take a moment to enjoy this serendipitous moment when all of the academic publishing gods collided. 

AnnouncementsCar Culture

The Cars that Power ‘Barbie’

Posted on by Chris Lezotte
Barbie & Ken in Barbie’s pink powered C1 Corvette

Shortly after the release of the blockbuster motion picture Barbie, automotive writer Andy Kalmowitz of Jalopnik posted an article about the cars that appeared in the film. While the article argues how Barbie serves as a ‘masterfully disguised General Motors commercial,’ Kalmowitz also examines how the individual vehicles move the story forward. This article was interesting to me for two reasons. The first is that I explored the relationship between women and their automobiles in film in a paper published in The Journal of Popular Culture a number of years ago. In this article I examine ten female road trip films. Focusing on cars rather than the journey, my goal in this project was to reassess the role and significance of the automobile in film, examine how the woman’s car in film has the ability to disrupt both the dominant road trip and cultural narratives, and to broaden the notion of women’s car use to include considerations of identity, agency, reinvention, friendship, family, and empowerment.

More recently, just days after the Jalopnik article appeared, an essay I authored – ‘Pink Power: The Barbie Car and Female Automobility’ – was published online in The Journal of American Culture. The main position put forth in ‘Pink Power’ is the importance of the Barbie car to a young girl’s automotive education and future driving experience. As in most of my writing about the relationship between women and cars, I argue that because the female experience with cars is often unlike that of men, women look at automobiles differently. This difference is often reflected in the roles car play in women’s lives and the myriad of meanings the automobile holds for them. 

The Blazer SS EV flanked by two Chevy Suburbans

Therefore as I viewed Barbie in town last night, I paid special attention to the cars. While I noted the role each vehicle played in the narrative, what also caught my attention was how each vehicle represented a specific type of power. These representations were demonstrated not only through the expressions of speed, aggressiveness, and danger, but also by the automobile’s stance, size, color, and signification.

The pink Corvette – the vehicle that literally and figuratively moves the narrative along – is a both a demonstration and source of Barbie’s power. The convertible not only takes her where she wants to go, but is a personal and intimate space in which Barbie is in command and Ken rides in the back seat. In his analysis of the Corvette in American culture, automotive scholar Jerry Passon argues that sport cars in general, and the Corvette in particular, serve as potent symbols of male power and masculine sexuality. He observes that in a variety of creative works—film, literature, popular music –women often call upon the sports car to seize power from the hands of men and take control of their lives. In these fictional locations, Passon writes, “the emotional value of possessing the stylish, powerful machine” makes a woman “feel more ‘in charge’ and able to accomplish her own goals and act on her desires” (153). While the Corvette appears as an ideal car in an ideal world, its pinkness and femininity mask the real power it holds for Barbie and her friends.

The second car to make an appearance in the film is a big, blacked out Suburban. As argued by color psychologists, black is often considered a power color. It implies self-control, discipline, independence, and a strong will; black gives the impression of authority and power. In Barbie, the Suburban serves as the ultimate authority; it is, in fact, the Mattel company car. It is the foil to the pink Corvette; intimidating, unfriendly, and foreboding, it is called upon to transport Barbie away from the source of her power.

Another car with a major cinematic role is the bright blue Blazer SS EV driven by Barbie’s friend Gloria. The small SUV, of which the Blazer is an example, is often considered the ultimate ‘mom’ car. Purposefully and determinedly identified with women by automakers, marketers, and the media, the ‘lifestyle enabler’ vehicle – which also includes the ubiquitous minivan – reinforces the notion that women bear primary responsibility for housework and childcare. However, with Gloria behind the wheel with daughter Sasha in tow, the Blazer takes on new meaning. As a getaway car, the Blazer demonstrates and celebrates Gloria’s driving finesse and considerable ‘mom’ power as she aggressively and skillfully drives her passengers to safety.

Ken and his Hummer EV – Jalopnik photo

In a film focused on girl power, the most obvious and perhaps egregious representative of male power and toxic masculinity is the lightening adorned black and silver Hummer EV acquired by Ken when out of Barbie Land. Deposited in Los Angeles after relegated to the pink Corvette’s backseat, Ken is quickly exposed to patriarchy and immediately decides he wants to be a part of it. The Hummer, which Jalopnik writer Steve DaSilva describes as ‘oversized, uselessly heavy, and compensating so hard’, represents the masculine power Ken has been missing in his life in Barbie Land. While Ken is briefly successful in acquiring the brutish power the Hummer offers, the vehicle is reclaimed upon Barbie and Gloria’s triumphant return, soon transformed into a massive, monstrous, pink-powered machine.

The automobile holds many meanings in film; what has not been explored significantly is the car’s role in women-themed motion pictures. While the vehicles featured in Barbie contain varied and important meanings to the individual who drives them, what ties them together is how each represents a particular manifestation of automotive, and personal, power.

AnnouncementsWomen & Motorsports

Published in ‘The History & Politics of Motor Racing: Lives in the Fast Lane’

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

About three years ago I was asked to contribute a chapter to a book in progress titled: The History and Politics of Motor Racing: Lives in the Fast Lane. The instructions were simple and somewhat vague; I was to write something/anything about the history and politics of women in motorsport. As the request was quite broad, and my knowledge of the subject nonexistent, I decided to focus on one aspect of women’s experience in motor racing that had not yet been addressed. [As it turned out, not much has been written on women in motorsport in any capacity so the possibilities were, in fact, endless]. At the time, the W Series was just being introduced as a new opportunity for women in the very masculine world of motorsport. As an all-female venue, I thought it would be interesting to trace the chronology of women-only racing as an alternative and perhaps unique opportunity for women interested in getting behind the wheel of a race car.

Ladabouche collection

Once the idea was accepted by the editors, I began the journey of assembling materials and sources in the hopes that an interesting and doable path would eventually emerge. I took the opportunity to attend the Argetsinger Symposium on International Motor Racing History – held at the storied Watkins Glen International – to not only assess the current scholarship on the subject matter presented by a wide variety of motorsport historians and scholars, but also to take advantage of the many resources housed nearby in the International Motor Racing Research Center [IMRRC] in downtown Watkins Glen, New York. With the help of archivist Jenny Ambrose I was able to begin the arduous task of creating a timeline and assembling relevant content around it in a project eventually titled “From Powder Puff to W Series: The Evolution of Women-Only Racing.” 

Skysports.com photo

Earlier this summer, the aforementioned volume in ebook form was released, with the print version to follow later this year. Within this collection I find myself in the company of nearly 40 world renown motorsport historians and scholars in a variety of disciplines from all over the globe. I am honored to have my work included in this impressive and ambitious volume. I thank Katherine Parkin PhD, who recommended me for the project, for providing me with the opportunity to delve into something new – in both discipline and subject matter – to add to my published scholarship on women and cars. And I thank the editors for their advice, encouragement, and constructive criticism along the way. Of course, appreciation also goes to the many daring women who engaged in women-only racing, determinedly challenging gender stereotypes and successfully negotiating their way into the hypermasculine world of motor racing.

AnnouncementsCar Stories

Review of ‘Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America’

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

As a member of the Society of Automotive Historians, I am sometimes asked to provide a review of a book nominated for the prestigious Cugnot Award for the organization’s bi-monthly SAH Journal. One of the books under consideration in 2021 was Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America by Candacy Taylor. I was introduced to The Green Book through Cotten Seiler’s seminal text Republic of Drivers: A Cultural History of Automobility in America while a graduate student at Eastern Michigan University; the publication came into the public consciousness with the release of the Oscar winning film of the same name. I welcomed the opportunity to read and review the most current examination of this influential and important publication. It proved to be an interesting and enlightening read. For those who may be curious about the book, I have included my review below.

Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America
By Candacy Taylor
Abrams Press, NY (2020)
360 pages, 6 ½: x 9 ½” hardcover, dustcover 
150 color and black-and-white illustrations
Price: $35
ISBN: 9781419738173

The Green Book – a travel guide for black Americans produced from 1936-1967 –  is the subject of two exemplary publications released in 2020. Driving While Black: African American Travel and the Road to Civil Rights was reviewed in the March/April 2021 issue of the SAH Journal and was the recipient of a 2021 Cugnot Award of Distinction. Author Gretchen Sorin focuses her account on the history of African-American car ownership and travel, particularly how the Green Book served as an impetus for black Americans to break the societal constraints of mobility placed on them since the days of slavery. Candacy Taylor, in Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America, takes a somewhat different, yet equally impactful, approach. Relying on historical documents, photographs, oral histories, family stories, as well as personal visits to remaining businesses and building sites featured in the travel guide, Taylor provides a chronology of the Green Book within the context of historical events that made its publication valuable if not vital to the black community. 

The Green Book was created to address the need and desire of black Americans to engage in safe travel during the Jim Crow era. The publication’s byline – ‘Carry Your Green Book With You – You May Need It’ – underscores the difficulties African-Americans faced when journeying away from home through unfamiliar areas. Yet as Taylor argues, the Green Book’s influence and impact was twofold. Not only did the annual publication serve as an essential travel guide, but as an effective and indispensable marketing tool for black-owned businesses as well. Through advertising, grassroots promotion, and word of mouth, the Green Book assembled an impressive list of hotels, restaurants, entertainment venues, recreation areas, stores, service stations, salons, and vacation spots that offered safe and welcoming accommodations for black travelers. Taylor’s examination of the Green Book is unique in this regard. For while she offers historical and first-hand accounts of the dangers of driving while black in America, she also suggests that the very need for a travel guide provided recognition as well as financial support for the many black-owned business establishments featured in each issue. This shared emphasis weaves throughout each chapter, as Taylor combines historical data and personal accounts of black travel with descriptions and photographs – many taken by the author – of the sites frequented by black individuals and families as they made their way across American roads. Taylor also includes a chapter on how the Green Book served as a source of empowerment for black women, who through advertising in the publication were able to experience a measure of success running businesses that included hotels, beauty shops, tourist homes, and sex clubs. Another chapter is devoted to the Green Book’s role in the Great Migration, and how it provided information not only on safe stops along the way but also on welcoming locations in which to relocate. 

Taylor holds a master’s degree in Visual and Critical Studies and is widely recognized as an award-winning author, photographer, and cultural documentarian. Like much of her previous work, Overground Railroad is part of a broader project which includes the book, a traveling exhibition by the Smithsonian Institution, as well as a children’s book, board game, and walking tour mobile app. In the book’s afterword, Taylor includes a Green Book Site Tour, the Green Book Cover Guide, as well as recommendations for local and national activism supported by a who’s who list of prominent African-American scholars, journalists, and legal experts. Taylor’s overarching goal in this project is not only to examine the Green Book’s influence on black American travel and black-owned businesses during the era framed by Jim Crow and the Civil Rights movement, but also to inspire readers to challenge the social and legal inequalities that exist in the present day. 

While The Overground Railroad is well-researched, it is more experiential than academic, often relying on recollections of family members and black business owners, as well as  observations from Taylor’s 40,000 mile road trip in which she visits and documents nearly 3,600 remaining Green Book establishments and former building sites. The book’s less scholarly, more familiar language and tone makes the book accessible to a wider, and perhaps more inclusive, audience. That being said, the Overground Railroad project has been awarded numerous fellowships and grants from prominent educational and cultural institutions and was named a New York Times Notable Book of 2020.

Prior to the release of the popular motion picture The Green Book in 2018, most Americans were unfamiliar with the publication from which it took its name or the need for its existence. Overground Railroad is both a timely and necessary follow-up to the Oscar-winning film. Throughout its adeptly researched and photo-rich chapters, Taylor not only documents the injustices and real-life dangers black Americans faced while on the road, but provides the impetus to create change through political activism. As Taylor writes, “I wanted to show [the Green Book] in the context of this country’s ongoing struggle with race and social mobility.” For the problems black Americans face today, Taylor continues, “are arguably just as debilitating and deadly as the problems the Green Book helped black people avoid more than 80 years ago” (22). Overground Railroad is recommended not only as a unique examination of a dark era of American history, but to demonstrate how, as Taylor asserts, “real change can come from simple tools that solve a problem. That is why the Green Book was so powerful” (295). 

Announcements

Published in The Journal of Popular Culture

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

“What Would Miss Daisy Drive? The Road Trip Film, the Automobile, and the Woman Behind the Wheel” has been posted in pre-publication form on Wiley Article Share for inclusion in the next issue of The Journal of Popular Culture. In this article, I examine the relationship between a woman and a particular automobile in ten post-Thelma and Louise female road trip films. These films include Anywhere But Here, Tumbleweeds, Grandma, Tammy, Camilla, Cloudburst, Bonneville, Leaving Normal, Boys on the Side, and Manny and Lo [featuring a very young Scarlett Johansson]. The eclectic group of cars – 12 in all – include a 1955 Dodge Lancer, 1968 gold Mercedes, 1990 Ford Ranger pickup, 1974 VW Thing, 1966 Pontiac Bonneville, 1987 Toyota Corolla, 1999 Cadillac Deville, 1970 Pontiac Le Mans, 1970 Pontiac GTO, a 1970ish Checker Marathon, 1990 Chevrolet Caprice Wagon, and 1994 Mercury Villager minivan.

After making it across the Canadian border in a 1990 Ford Ranger, Dottie (Brenda Fricker) and Stella (Olympia Dukakis) stop to complete a marriage license in Cloudburst.

This was a fun project to work on – I watched many memorable as well as not-so-great female road films to make my selections – and I enjoyed the process of looking at the vehicles as important supporting players rather than mere props. Other than exhaustive literature on Thelma and Louise, the relationship between a woman and her car in film has not received much attention in scholarship. Hopefully this article will encourage folks to look at the cars and the women who drive them differently, not only in film but in all aspects of American life.

Manny (Scarlet Johansson) and Lo (Aleksa Palladino) call upon their late mother’s 1990 Chevrolet Caprice wagon to assemble a new family in Manny and Lo.
AnnouncementsWomen & Car Advertising

Cover Story in the Automotive History Review

Posted on by Chris Lezotte
Automotive History Review cover – Spring 2021

Writing about my experiences in a Detroit automotive advertising agency nearly 30 years ago was both a reflective and enjoyable experience. However, as my memory fades increasingly each year, I wasn’t sure I could remember enough about my time at McCann Erickson to produce a readable and interesting article. Fortunately, I was able to connect with a couple of my former co-workers who helped fill in some of the auto – and memory – blanks. As the article notes, the time spent at McCann was both fun and frustrating. I was able to produce some good work, but was also subject to the sexual harassment commonplace in the pre Anita Hill era. That being said, what should be remembered is that the article is not meant to convey a universal experience; rather, it is a reflection of one woman’s recollection of a particular time and place in automotive advertising history.

I was thrilled when asked to contribute to the Automotive History Review – the premier publication of the Society of Automotive Historians [SAH], and honored to be featured on the cover. AHR editor John Heitmann wrote this about my short piece:

Chris Lezotte lived automotive history while working in automotive advertising in Detroit during the 1970s and 1980s. She tells us her story but much more. Her fascinating piece adds considerable background to those of us who view advertising as part of the historical record. To be sure there are several key studies that help us interpret what advertising is, and whether it is a bell weather of social preferences or the shaper of consumer wants, but what Chris does is give us a down-to-earth primer of great value.

I hope those who come upon this article – available through the SAH website – will enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

AnnouncementsCar Culture

Review of ‘Machines of Youth: America’s Car Obsession’

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

As a scholar, albeit of the independent variety, I am sometimes asked to contribute to research in various ways. A little over a year ago The Journal of the History of Childhood and Youth asked if I would write a book review on a car-and-youth related publication for an upcoming issue. As I am always open to a new opportunity, I gladly accepted, particularly since I had already purchased the book and was planning on reading it anyway. The review was recently published in the JHCY Winter 2020 issue. Machines of Youth: America’s Car Obsession by historian Gary Cross is an interesting and in-depth look at the various American youth car cultures of the 20th century. For those who may be curious about the book, I have included my review here.

Machines of Youth: America’s Car Obsession
By Gary S. Cross
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2018. 227 pp. Paper $32.50, cloth $97.50.

Machines of Youth is a colorful chronology of American youth car cultures from the early automotive age to the present day. Relying on an eclectic assemblage of sources – interviews, print media, automotive publications, popular culture, and personal anecdotes – historian Gary Cross has constructed a compelling examination of a rarely researched subject and subculture. Although the book stands on its own as an in-depth exploration of young men’s involvement and fascination with cars over the past century, it also serves as a rarely examined but timely analysis of white working-class youth culture in twentieth-century America. In Machines of Youth, Cross takes us beyond the scope of traditional automotive histories to investigate the teenage cultures that evolved along its margins. To young working-class men, Cross argues, car culture was not only a community in which automotive craftsmanship and knowledge could be developed and shared, but also served as an important source of masculinity, autonomy, individualism, self-expression, and rebellion.

Cross skillfully intertwines automobile history with the teenage cultures it generated. Each chapter introduces cars of a particular generation and the young men who became engaged, if not obsessed, with the growing automotive phenomenon. Some of the stops along the way include the early auto age and young men’s growing preoccupation with the gasoline-powered automobile, the 1930s customizing and “souping up” craze, the 1940s hot rod wars, the 1950s and 60s cruising and parking culture, and the Fast and Furious era of Japanese “rice burners”. Cross also makes an intriguing detour into the familial and community Latino car culture of “low and slow”. At each juncture Cross delves into how a particular culture came to be, considers how and why boys became involved, investigates the influence of club life and the media, considers how the subcultures were regarded by the public, and discusses the efforts made to suppress, disregard, or encourage young men’s automotive activities. Cross concludes the book by considering the state of car culture today, the role of nostalgia in its maintenance, as well as whether there remains enough automotive interest for its continuance into the future.

Although car cultures attracted teens from all walks of life – e.g. baby boomer muscle car enthusiasts and middle-class hippies who tinkered with aging VW Beetles – Cross is particularly interested in the role the automobile played in the lives of white working-class youth. In the chapter devoted to “greasers and their rods,” Cross examines how cars gave these “marginal” high school boys an opportunity to define themselves apart from the mainstream white middle-class population. As the author notes, while middle-class teens on the “college prep” track were likely to drive cars owned or purchased by their parents, working-class youth in the vocational curriculum took pride in working on their own jalopies. Thus, as Cross writes, “the customized car offered a token of dignity to a group that had always been subordinate, but which in the mid-twentieth century was steadily losing ground” (99). Cross’s examination of white working-class youth is particularly timely given the current political climate, which has witnessed a growing sentiment of discontent and disaffection among rural white working-class men.

Machines of Youth is a welcome and important addition to existing automotive scholarship. Although much has been written on the history of the automobile, only a handful of scholars (e.g. Karen Lumsden, Amy Best, Brenda Bright, Sarah Redshaw) have investigated specific car cultures. And while Cross presents an engaging examination of the history of young men’s involvement with cars, the volume’s strength comes from its unique focus on class (in addition to gender and race) as an influential and crucial component of American youth car cultures. What the book lacks, however, is diversity in research location. Although the west coast was certainly an important breeding ground for youth car cultures, there is a little too much emphasis on the California car scene. While other locations are mentioned, the tone of the book suggests the majority of youth automotive activity occurred in the Golden State. Cross also fails to lay out his methodology in the introductory section. Consequently, it is up to the reader to piece the research sources together chapter by chapter.

Machines of Youth is certain to be embraced by aging men of a particular generation who grew up with a passion for cars and see themselves in its pages. For auto historians, Cross’s astute analysis of young men’s engagement with the automobile provides a social context to the ebb and flow of automotive popularity over the past century. However, scholars of youth cultures will find Cross’s work fascinating whether or not they have an interest in cars. The focus on white working-class teens is not only engrossing and enlightening in its own right, but has particular relevance during this disquieting time in our nation’s political history.

Do you have a favorite car book? What makes an automotive book worth reading? Your suggestions are welcome!

Announcements

On Board the Society of Automotive Historians

Posted on by Chris Lezotte

I have just been notified of my election to the Society of Automotive Historians board of directors. I hesitated to run for this position as I am not a historian nor do I have a deep knowledge or technical understanding of automobiles. However, because I come to automotive scholarship from a cultural rather than historical perspective, and because my research interest is the relationship between women and cars, it was suggested that I might offer a new point of view to what has long been a male-dominated and technologically-focused discipline. So here I am. As only the fourth woman to be elected to the SAH board I am both excited and nervous. I join a group of well-respected and accomplished individuals that includes academic scholars, automotive journalists and publishers, museum and library professionals, educational and cultural organizations, car collectors and restorers, and auto enthusiasts. I hope that I can contribute to this organization and the research it fosters. I look forward to serving alongside my fellow car chick Carla Lesh. I hope our presence will encourage others – whose gender, age, or sexual orientation has placed them on the margins of automotive history and research – to contribute to and become part of the SAH as it celebrates its 50th anniversary.

What topics should organizations such as the SAH address? What kind of activities should they sponsor? For information on what the Society of Automotive Historians does now, and what needs to be done to grow the future, I encourage you to visit SAH online.