James Oliver Goldsborough spent 40 years working for newspapers, including The San Diego Union-Tribune. “The Paris Herald,” his first novel, is about a legendary newspaper and its fight for survival in the mid-1960s.
Goldsborough, 77, knew a lot of the key players — Jock Whitney of the New York Herald Tribune, Katherine Graham of The Washington Post, Arthur “Punch” Sulzberger of The New York Times — and augments their real-life stories with the journalistic and romantic doings of a fun, imaginary cast of characters.
“I miss newspapers,” Goldsborough said.
He lives in University City.
Q: How did your own time in Paris shape you as a writer and as a person?
A: I arrived there not knowing much of anything, not knowing much about the world, just a California kid who had worked for a couple of newspapers. I came to Paris, was hired by the New York Herald Tribune and I didn’t speak a word of French, didn’t know a French person.
It opened a whole world for me: politically, economically, in literature. I learned languages, broadened my interests. There was no job I ever had that influenced me, moved me and helped me as much as that job did. The first time I ordered a beer in Paris they gave me wine, that’s how bad my French was. And when I left, you know, I married there and had children there and I could even order a beer and get a beer. I’d grown up.
Q: This is a novel based in fact, about the fight over what you refer to as the world’s most famous newspaper. What most intrigued you about that struggle?
A: Well, we thought we were going to die in Paris because the New York Herald Tribune folded in ‘66 and that was our parent. But we didn’t. Just watching this struggle between Jock Whitney and Punch Sulzberger and Kay Graham for control of this newspaper, it was fascinating. The struggle lasted like 30 years. I don’t think anywhere else in the world those newspapers went head to head like they did in Paris.
Q: What do you think is the most enduring legacy of the Paris Herald?
A: I say at some point it’s our gift to like the Eiffel Tower was ’s gift to the United States. It really is. It was formed in 1887 by James Gordon Bennett Jr., the man who sent Stanley to find Livingstone, that’s how far back it goes. And it’s been an institution there for all these years. I mean, any Frenchman knew it was there, even though it was in the English language.
In a sense, Americans taught the French about newspapering through the Herald Tribune. It wasn’t just politics. It was good writing and good features and covering everything.
Q: One of the themes you’re exploring here is the importance of newspapers in good governance. Why did you want to write about that?
A: Because I think we’re all a little bit afraid now that if newspapers decline so will the watchdog function of newspapers. I mean, look at the Union-Tribune. Look what it did with the scandals of Duke Cunningham. Who will report that now? If you don’t have newspapers reporting the misdoings of government, who is your watchdog?
Q: Newspapers have always relied on people caring about civic affairs. How has the public’s interest in government and democracy changed in the time that you’ve been thinking and writing about them?
A: You want to talk about selfishness because people seem so wrapped up in their own lives. How do you appeal to a reader about the importance of the planet heating up and burning up and killing itself if they think that doesn’t affect them? That’s the job that a newspaper has to do — to somehow make it clear that there are bigger issues, collective issues, societal issues that take precedence over the individual life. They have to emphasize the common good.
Q: Let me shift gears and go back to your book. What was the hardest thing for you, as a longtime nonfiction writer, about finding your fiction voice?
A: You get to use your imagination. As a reporter you could never use your imagination. You’re always limited to the facts. You’d like to ignore them because if you did you’d have a much better story but you can’t do that. But as a novelist, that’s the fun of it. Finally you can let go and let your imagination take over.
In a book like “The Paris Herald,” I knew there was a certain amount of injury you cause. I don’t think you can write any novel without hurting somebody. It’s just the nature of the thing. You can’t pull your punches and be nice to somebody; you have to learn to write what you think the truth is and then take the consequences. I’ve already had some reaction to this book by people who felt injured. Every bit of writing like this is a violation in some way or another, and you just have to accept that.
“The Paris Herald,” by James Oliver Goldsborough, Prospecta Press, 304 pages, $24