Saying goodbye to Anthony Day, a first-class reviewer

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Anthony Day (left) passed away last Sunday; he was the erudite editor whom L.A. Times Publisher Otis Chandler had brought in to transform the Times editorial pages in 1969. Late in his career, Tony contributed regularly to our Book Review section. He was a steady hand and a prolific critic; he was also an invaluable resource for us in countless ways. And, looking back, he was probably our only reviewer who never missed a deadline.

In all the years he wrote for us, deadlines--even tight ones--were never a problem. I could send him a book and say that we needed 800 words by next week, and the answer was always: ‘It will be waiting for you when you arrive at the office.’ And it usually was--in the fax basket or e-mail inbox.

We’re going to miss Tony’s presence here in Book Review. For among the many aspects of his career that the Times obituary identified, Tony was a reverent lover of books. One of his obvious strengths was reviewing books about politics, but he also had a deep, abiding taste for fiction, especially the Napoleonic-era adventures of Patrick O’Brian’s characters Aubrey and Maturin. Their maritime roving around the globe during a time of war, I think, resonated specially for a man who had been a reporter in Vietnam.

On politics, Tony’s judgments weren’t knee-jerk or calculated to win attention--which is what you often see today in print, on TV or the Internet. You never felt that he was writing a sharp criticism so that people would delight in his snarkiness: He took authors to task because, well, they deserved it. They got their facts wrong. They might mislead readers to false conclusions that could in some way hurt the process of democracy. In reviewing ‘War by Other Means’ by UC Berkeley law professor John Yoo, who as a deputy assistant attorney general during President Bush’s first term helped draft policies on torture, Tony wrote in 2006:

‘[Yoo] promoted the notion that the Constitution is a mere document that can be easily and safely put aside if and when it turns out to seem inconvenient in the current situation, whatever that situation happens to be. He has President Bush very much on his side. But others view the Constitution as having a weight and an authority that has proved more enduring than law professors and presidents.’

Personally, I’ll miss the lesson he taught in how to wear one’s achievements. Although there are many glam-hounds out there who shamelessly name-drop their associations, Tony was more casual about, even seemingly unaware of, the specialness of the circles he moved in.

Years ago, he stopped by the office to pick up some books and showed me a fax of a newspaper column from Henry Kissinger, whom he was editing. Not so that I’d marvel at Tony’s connections, but to show a young pup like me what editing work is all about.

‘I wrestled with this one all last night. He’s a tough one,’ he said. ‘You never back down because of someone’s pedigree.’

On a trip to South America with his wife, Lynn, he described the wondrous experience of sailing through the Panama Canal. I could see the locks in my imagination and then, just when I thought I’d heard everything, he said he squeezed in a visit to Gabriel García Márquez during the trip. They drank cocktails and watched the sunset. ‘He is a good host,’ he said.

Tony was a lifelong student of Classical literature; for us he assessed new translations of Horace, Catullus and Virgil. Reading David Ferry’s translation of Virgil’s ‘Georgics,’ he told me how wonderful it was to hear Virgil describe the seasons as he looked out of his office window at spring arriving in New Mexico. His enthusiasm made you feel regret for having ‘small Latin, less Greek,’ and yet his reviews consoled you by showing you things you might never have learned.

I had a package of books on American history ready to send out to him. I feel badly that I’ll never know what he thought of them.

Tony’s last published review was of a Homer Hickam novel, but his final review was to be of a small book by the late Wallace Stegner. It doesn’t feel fair that someone who prided himself on meeting his deadlines will miss this one. But I can imagine Tony saying, ‘That’s how it is, kid. That’s the nature of things.’ Maybe, recalling that Virgil expressed the same sentiment, he’d turn to the First Georgic for a final few words (the Latin is for Tony, Ferry’s translation is for the rest of us):

Nec tamen, haec cum sint hominumque boumque labores
versando terram experti, nihil improbus anser
Strymoniaeque grues et amaris intiba fibris
officiunt aut umbra nocet. pater ipse colendi
haud facilem esse viam voluit....

But though both men and cattle do their work,
And do it well, there are the mischievous geese
And Strymonian cranes, and choking fibrous weeds,
And overshading trees, to trouble the crops.
For Father Jupiter himself ordained
That the way should not be easy.

Nick Owchar