The Coast of Bohemia

John Reed, the definitive American bohemian of the 20th century, was described as a "Romantic Revolutionary" in the title of a definitive biography about his life. His fiery career as a writer and prophet of social transformation was sufficiently colorful that Warren Beatty made a Hollywood movie about his life in Greenwich Village during its non-conformist heyday before World War I. In both Reed's life and Beatty's great movie, bohemianism and radical politics were inalterably linked. Throughout most of the 20th century, in fact, it would be impossible to think of one without the other, no matter what the setting -- Paris of the existentialists and '68 rebels, London of Bloomsbury and punk rockers, San Francisco of the beats and hippies.

But the word "revolution" isn't likely to be found in the title of many bohemian memoirs and biographies of the 21st century. Politics in our era has been divorced from avant-garde lifestyles. That's the message from two new books that ambitiously chronicle the cutting edge of American culture: Bohemian Manifesto (Bullfinch) by Laren Stover and Hip: The History (Ecco) by John Leland, former editor of Details magazine and now a New York Times reporter.

It's not surprising that Marxism, which so intrigued Reed and other Greenwich Village radicals of the 1910s, is missing from these modern accounts of life on the wild side. Once a staple of bohemian philosophy, socialism has been in retreat almost everywhere since the fall of the Berlin Wall. But social change of any sort -- from environmentalism to helping the poor in the developing world -- is scarce in these otherwise comprehensive books.

Stover, who calls her book "a field guide to living on the edge," subdivides bohemians into five categories (nouveau, gypsy, beat, zen and dandy) and credits the zen crowd with at least some concern about animal rights and renewable energy. But that's about it. Her glimpses into la vie boheme today are entertaining, well-researched and surprisingly smart but the book resembles a fashion magazine more than a sociological study. There are chapters devoted to clothes, cuisine, hygiene, pets, books, astrology, cars, and even stationery -- but none to activism or social causes.

Leland is more serious in his approach to hip, which is closely related but not synonymous with bohemianism. Bohemians are rebellious, artistic and usually middle-class in origin, while hipsters cover a wider range that includes working-class communities, the criminal underclass and pop culture in its rawest forms. He authoritatively tracks the hip sensibility all the way back to African slaves adapting to a strange and cruel life in the New World, and pays a lot of attention along the way to music, drugs, and sex. This impressive book stands as a hidden history of the United States, celebrating the renegades and outcasts who embody the American dream just as fully as famous inventors, politicians and businessmen. Leland manages to be both thorough in his research and jazzy enough in his prose to do justice to the subject matter.

He tackles the issue of political engagement straight on, noting, "Though it likes a revolutionary pose, hip is ill-equipped to organize for a cause. No one will ever reform campaign finance laws under hip's banner nor save the environment."

Politics and the whole business of making the world a better place comes across as distinctly "square" in Leland's vision of hip and as a tad dull and not fabulous enough in Stover's manual on becoming a bohemian. But that's not always the case. The generation of 1968 in Europe and most anti-Vietnam War protesters in the U.S. were social as well as political rebels. So were the intellectuals and rock musicians who ignited the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia and many of the millions worldwide who stood up against apartheid in South Africa.