Algonquin Round Table News Book Launch Party at the Algonquin

Book Launch Party at the Algonquin

The Algonquin Round Table New York (Globe Pequot Press) was published today. I hope you can find a copy in your local bookstore. Here you can enter your ZIP code and it will tell you the closest bookstore to shop local.

We had a fantastic book launch party at the Algonquin Hotel. What was wonderful was the descendants of the Vicious Circle that attended, I thank them so much!

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Brock Pemberton

Brock Pemberton, From Kansas to the Great White WayBrock Pemberton, From Kansas to the Great White Way

Brock and Margaret Pemberton

Brock and Margaret Pemberton


Today is the anniversary of the birth of one of the most overlooked members of the Algonquin Round Table, namely, Brock Pemberton. His brother, Murdock Pemberton, gets barely more attention than his far more successful sibling. Let’s take a short dive into his life. All of the material is from The Algonquin Round Table New York: A Historical Guide.

It sounds like the story in a Broadway musical: hick conquers metropolis. However, this story was Brock Pemberton’s, and it really did happen that way. He went from Kansas newspaperman to powerful Broadway producer, and was the father of the annual Tony Awards.

Ralph Brock Pemberton was born December 14, 1885, in Leavenworth, Kansas. He grew up about 100 miles southwest, in Emporia, where his father worked as a salesman. He and his younger brother, Murdock, went to Emporia High School. Brock graduated in 1902 and attended the local College of Emporia for three years, before transferring to the University of Kansas. He got his A.B. degree in 1908 and returned home. Pemberton had known the legendary editor William Allen White of the Emporia Gazette since he was a boy, and White hired him as a reporter. Pemberton was a dynamo on the tiny staff.

Pemberton thrived on the Emporia newspaper under White’s tutelage. White had earned a national reputation for his provocative editorials, and made frequent trips to the East Coast. In the age-old way of newspaper employment, he spoke to a New York City editor on Pemberton’s behalf. With that, the 24 year-old booked a one-way ticket for Manhattan in 1910. Arriving on Park Row after a 1,300-mile train trek, he learned that the position was not going to materialize. But as luck would have it, someone gave him a note to hand to Franklin P. Adams, who was at the New York Evening Mail at the time. Just as F.P.A. would later stick his neck out for Robert Benchley and George S. Kaufman, he went to bat for Pemberton. He landed a job as a reporter.

After a few months Pemberton was transferred from the city desk to the drama department at the Mail. On his first assignment, he was sent to attend a musical called “Everywoman” at the Herald Square Theatre. Pemberton innocently reviewed the show as if he was an audience member in Emporia, with hilarious results. The staff found his hayseed review backslapping funny, and the edition became a collector’s item, to Pemberton’s embarrassment. He had to learn to be more hard-edged.

In 1911 he moved to the New York World drama desk, where he got to know the bustling theater business intimately. A few years later he was offered the position of assistant drama editor at the New York Times, working under Alexander Woollcott, who was the paper’s chief drama critic. His contacts grew. Pemberton had spent six years in New York journalism when producer Arthur Hopkins offered him a job in 1917. Hopkins was one of the most successful producers in the city, and Pemberton was put to work in every capacity, from set construction to directing. It was his new career.
Pemberton stayed in the Hopkins organization for just three years, but he learned the skills a producer would need. When Hopkins passed on producing a three-act comedy called “Enter Madame” in 1920, Pemberton asked if he could produce it. He took the biggest gamble of his life, and it paid off. The show ran for two years at the Garrick; he also directed the show. He was a newly minted Broadway producer at age 35. Soon after, Pemberton tapped Zona Gale to adapt her bestseller “Miss Lulu Bett” into a play, and he opened it two days after Christmas 1920. It was a smash success at the Belmont, and won the Pulitzer Prize as the year’s best drama the following year.

On Dec. 30, 1915, Pemberton married Margaret McCoy in East Orange, New Jersey. He was 30 and she was 36. She sometimes would work as a costumer on her husband’s shows.

In 1919, when the Round Table began, he was living at 123 East 53rd Street, between Park and Lexington avenues. The building has since been demolished. In 1918 he lived at 123 E. 53rd Street. He lived at 115 East 53rd Street in 1920, 1927, and 1931. In 1948 he was living at 455 E. 51st Street.

In 1925, the offices of Pemberton Productions, Inc. and Brock Pemberton, Inc. were at 224 West 47th Street. That building was demolished and is today the Hotel Edison, which opened in 1931.

Pemberton carved out a 30-year career in the theater business. He took on risky shows and had many hits, and several flops. He brought out the first plays by Maxwell Anderson and Sidney Howard. Among the many actors whose careers he launched onstage were Walter Huston, Miriam Hopkins, Claudette Colbert and Frederic March. In 1928 he lost $40,000 on a show, but bounced back the next year with the light comedy “Strictly Dishonorable” that began a long association with the actress-director Antoinette Perry. The pair had a string of hits together; some said they also had a long-running romantic relationship. The pair was among those that helped form the American Theatre Wing in 1939; the group put on the Stage Door Canteen shows for troops during the war. After Perry’s death in 1946, Pemberton pushed for the creation of the American Theatre Wing’s Antoinette Perry Awards for Excellence in Theatre — the Tony Awards.

Former location of the Blue Bar and Oak Room.

Algonquin Hotel Gut Renovation Moves Bar, Reconfigures LobbyAlgonquin Hotel Gut Renovation Moves Bar, Reconfigures Lobby

Former location of the Blue Bar and Oak Room.

Former location of the Blue Bar and Oak Room.


In the most extensive renovation in many decades, the Algonquin Hotel is underway with a major overhaul that has removed the bar, restaurant, front desk, and ceiling. The Round Table is gone, and so is the perch that Hamlet had in the window on Forty-fourth Street.

East side of hotel, where front desk was located.

East side of hotel, where front desk was located.


The hotel, opened in 1902, has removed the Blue Bar completely. Visible from the sidewalk, the ceilings are open and the floors are down to bare concrete. On the east side of the building, the front desk and the areas around it are wide open. The Round Table Room, at the back of the property, is under wraps. Little is visible from the street of the details.

It is currently not open to the public; the owners are using the pandemic to overhaul the property. In April the Algonquin was housing healthcare professionals.

The Algonquin was last renovated in 2012, in an overhaul that saw the Blue Bar expanded and the Oak Room reduced in size. That work maintained the distinctive qualities that dated to the 1998 renovation overseen by Alexandra Champalimaud. That had followed the $20 million mechanical renovation in 1991 ($38 million today) by the Aoki Corporation; that was when the tiny Blue Bar moved across the lobby.

Front entrance, closed to public.

Front entrance, closed to public.

While the Algonquin Hotel has city landmark status, it only applies to the exterior, not to the interior.

I have reached out to Marriott to inquire about a visit and look at the plans. An update could be coming soon.

These photos were taken on August 21, 2020. For the history of the Algonquin Hotel, buy the book.

West side of Blue Bar and Oak Room.

West side of Blue Bar and Oak Room.

Dorothy Parker and the Earlier A. A. Milne BusinessDorothy Parker and the Earlier A. A. Milne Business

With A. A. Milne back in movie theaters today, it’s time to revisit the beef that Dorothy Parker had with the author. The feud was flamed by her mentor, Franklin P. Adams, always known as FPA.

It’s common knowledge about what she thought about Winnie the Pooh, from Mrs. Parker’s book review published in The New Yorker, about The House at Pooh Corner, from October 1928:

And it is that word “hummy,” my darlings, that marks the first place in “The House at Pooh Corner” at which Tonstant Weader Fwowed up.

However, this is a year after Mrs. Parker had found herself in a mess about Milne. Her publisher, Boni & Liveright, were marketing her debut poetry collection Enough Rope with advertising copy, “America’s A. A. Milne is a lady. She is Dorothy Parker.” Not very smart.

Mrs. Parker wrote a response for FPA called “When We Were Very Sore.” This was published on March 10, 1927 in the New York World. She likely wasn’t paid for this verse, which is written in the Milne style. FPA had a lot of fun with this one. He quipped, “What lady was America’s A. A. Milne? Answer: That was no lady, that was Dorothy Parker.”

When We Were Very Sore

When We Were Very Sore