All the Answers

    The tragedy of the former child star is a story often retold, on talk shows, tabloids, documentaries on MTV. However, what makes this book different is that the former child star is not an actor, but a genius mathematician; one of the “Wiz Kids,” who wowed radio audiences in the days before television. The child prodigy genius, be he a mathematician, scientist, or writer, usually turns out okay in the end (for some reason you don’t see as much drug use among the mathematicians.) But in All the Answers, we’re faced with two questions about the lives of the child prodigy genius’ upbringing and adult life. First, does the kid really know everything, or is he a coached actor? Second, does all the attention he receives in childhood curse him in adulthood?

    Michael Kupperman’s father was once the star genius of a long-running (and long-forgotten) kid’s show. Anyone born during the Baby Boom or after won’t remember it, and I myself hadn’t heard of it until I read this book. My research shows that reporters tracked them down over the years; most of them did well in adulthood, one was on the skids, and one wrote a book about it. As for the elder Kupperman, he never speaks of it, but as his dementia worsens, his son is desperate for more information. Why won’t the old man talk about it?

    The Wiz Kids were the cast of a radio show, where they’d be asked extra hard math questions. The prize was just $75 a week (not bad in 1942), and the elder Kupperman says that it was in fact an act; he was coached beforehand, and his mother was the ultimate stage mom. Not that he holds any grudges, by the way, since the family was poor and they needed the money. As for the story’s place in history, there are several undercurrents; for one thing, WWII was a time when America needed role models, even if they were children, and it was important for Jewish media moguls to show how patriotic their people were. Jewish boxers weren’t seen as role models (it may have had to do with a prejudice against the working classes) so why not let the “smart Jew” stereotype dominate?

    The author gives an unusual retelling of his relationship with his father, the child prodigy math genius turned obscure college professor. It was as though he was told “do as you please, because you can only learn from your mistakes.” Growing up, he gets busted for shoplifting, gets kicked out of school, gets into mischief, and all the while his college professor father doesn’t get mad. He tells his boy “I don’t want you to be a successful child, just a successful adult.” As for the father’s career, she chooses to teach in a college in some remote part of Connecticut. Clearly the guy is an intellectual, but doesn’t want any pressure or attention. The last time the elder Kupperman goes on the airwaves is a short stint on The $64,000 Question, and yes, according to him, it was rigged. He wasn’t supplied with answers, but the producers were careful to ask only the kind of things that he knew. He testifies to it before Congress, and fortunately, it doesn’t hurt his career. Or does it? Maybe that’s why he ends up teaching at a less-prestigious college.

    The artwork isn’t especially exciting, it’s mostly plain black and white drawings, with none of the intensity of Maus or Persepolis. But maybe it’s the kind of artwork that this story needs? Much of it takes place in the Baby Boom, and that was a boring era. Everyone had settled down into their homes in Levittown, into the cult of domesticity and conformity. Still, there is a slight deficit to the artwork, in that it doesn’t illustrate the time and place of the story, which would be distinguished by clothing styles, hairstyles, décor, etc. We’ve seen how shows like The Wonder Years, Mad Men, and Boardwalk Empire made effective use of period details, and it’s lacking in All the Answers.

    Those who are unfamiliar with US history may not know about the Baby Boom era, a time when children were being indulged more than ever (blame it on Dr. Spock) and there was a push for more science education (blame it on Sputnik.) They’ll also be unfamiliar with The $64,000 Question (even if they saw the movie Quiz Show, which is not well-known in Europe.) Something tells me, this book will mean a lot more to people with an interest in American life. It shows the pitfalls in the obsession with success.