Review of Too Good to Be True: The Colossal Book of Urban Legends. By Jan Harold Brunvand. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1999. Hard bound. ISBN: 0-393-04734-2. Pp. 480. $ 29.95.

Review of The Truth Never Stands in the Way of A Good Story. By Jan Harold Brunvand. Champaign: University of Illinois Press, 2000. Hard bound. ISBN 0-252-02424-9. Pp. 217. $ 22.95.

by Jim Vandergriff
Knox College
Galesburg, IL

 As I began reading Brunvand’s Too Good to Be True, I was reminded of a story about great-great-great grandmother Mary Jane Searcy Armstrong when he made the claim on the first page of the introduction that "[a]ll of these things could conceivably happen, but it is thoroughly unlikely that they really did happen . . .." (p. 19) That statement follows a list of urban legend plots which includes in its number that of the people who " . . . lose their grandmother’s corpse from the car roof.. . ." As an avid reader of Brunvand’s books, I’ve long been familiar both with many of the plot lines and with the "conceivable but improbable" nature of urban legends. Suddenly, though, that seems an explanation for the persistence of the story of Granny and her rocking chair in my family: it’s an urban legend -- or at least an 1840’s equivalent of one. (As the story goes, when the family was migrating from Tennessee to Missouri, Granny fell out of the wagon without being noticed and was later found still sitting in the rocking chair smoking her pipe.) It seems fairly obvious to me that this family tale is one of those migratory motifs with which legends are replete. Those things could have happened, but why my family? Isn’t it enough that we have the skeleton story, the fatal lover’s triangle, the miraculous ride . . . . . . . . . . ? [See my article if you want more detail about these: "The Legend of Joe’s Cave: Murder, Medicine, Counterfeiting and Vigilantism." Missouri Folklore Society Journal 15-16(1993-94): 29-50.]

That’s the kind of thing I like about Brunvand’s books in general -- the stories he tells almost always remind me of stories from my own life experiences. On pages 160-61, for instance, he tells of the chemistry prof who froze his thumb with liquid nitrogen. Hmmm. I thought it was liquid oxygen and that it happened to a sailor on an aircraft carrier. When I was in the Navy, serving on aircraft carriers, we had huge vats of liquid oxygen on the hangar deck. I remember tales about dumb recruits being duped into sticking their fingers into it and subsequently losing the finger (some old "salt," employing a frankfurter and some sleight of hand, would pretend to do it, but the "boot" would really do it), and other stories about sailors catching mice, dipping them into the lox, then shattering them by flinging them against the steel bulkheads or decks. Though I’ve told them many times as true foaf tales, I guess now I have to see them as urban legends, too.

Then on page 166, I learn that "Why Paddy’s Not At Work Today" is also an urban legend. (Sorry, Clyde.) Probably the cigarette lighter that a friend of a friend bought in Japan in the early 60s that still had the Budweiser label visible inside was an urban legend, too. Last year, just as my sweet corn was ripening, raccoons began pillaging my garden. A friend told me to put plastic bottles partly filled with water around the garden. (That’s on page 339, and from England!) Sigh. Is nothing sacred? Next he’ll be telling me that the chupacabra is also a myth!

A lot of the stories in Too Good to Be True are familiar, not because I believed them when I heard them, but because they are updates of stories presented in his earlier books. Most of the stories here are taken from letters Brunvand received in response to his syndicated column (late 80s early 90s). They’re followed by some discussion of the origins, the variants, or the meanings, but generally this book is light on scholarship. The point seems to be entertainment rather than scholarship, a surmise buttressed by the look of the work. Under the dust jacket is a two-toned grey cover that would look good on a coffee table. Even the size of the book -- 7-1/4 x 9-1/2 -- suggests display. So, I think this collection is intended for the recreational reader rather than the scholar.

That’s fine with me. His earlier books provide the scholarly apparatus, as does his latest book, The Truth Never Stands in The Way of A Good Story. Of course, Brunvand is still the scholar, so Too Good includes a lot of analytic and interpretive material in the comments about the individual tales, and the tales are "updates," in many cases, of tales he’s treated in other books. Primarily, though, this book is to be simply enjoyed. And it is quite enjoyable. I especially recommend it for the general reader, though it also certainly has value for folklorists.

 If I just inverted what I said above, I’d have a pretty good description of The Truth Never Stands in The Way of A Good Story. It’s the scholarly book, but it’s also quite entertaining. The book is organized around some common legends -- The Red Velvet Cake story (he mentions Becky Schroeder in that chapter), the Stunned Deer story [about which see his article "Was It a Stunned Deer or Just a Deer Stunt?: The Story Behind a Missouri Legend." Missouri Folklore Society Journal 15-16(1993-94): 111-118]. Whereas Too Good focuses on presenting such legends, The Truth focuses on critique of the legends: where do they start, how have they evolved, etc. In short, The Truth is a primarily scholarly work. In fact, it would make a good text for a course in urban legends, whereas Too Good might serve as further readings for such a course.

Both are excellent books, intelligent and entertaining, and very worthwhile books. They fit well with each other and with his long list of other books on urban legends. I recommend them highly, to scholars of legend, to teachers of legend, and to those who just want something interesting to read.