Lenny Bruce Trial: 1964

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Lenny Bruce Trial: 1964

Defendants: Lenny Bruce, Ella Solomon, and Howard L. Solomon
Crime Charged: Obscenity
Chief Defense Lawyers: Martin Garbus and Efraim London
Chief Prosecutor: Richard H. Kuh
Judges: J. Randall Creel, John M. Murtagh, and Kenneth M. Phipps
Place: New York, New York
Dates of Trial: June 16-December 21, 1964
Verdict: Lenny Bruce: Guilty; Howard L. Solomon: Guilty; Ella Solomon: not Guilty
Sentence: Lenny Bruce: 4 months imprisonment; Howard L. Solomon: $1,000 fine or 60 Days Jail

SIGNIFICANCE: Freedom of speech is a cherished right. But just how far should that right extend? For many, comedian Lenny Bruce stepped way beyond any reasonable interpretation of free speech. That belief resulted in the costliest, and certainly the most controversial obscenity trial in American history.

On April Fool's Day, 1964, two plainclothes New York City police officers mingled with the audience at the Cafe Au Go Go, a Greenwich Village coffeehouse, and watched comedian Lenny Bruce at work. It was a typical Bruce performance, funny, scatological, bitingly accurate, laced with Anglo-Saxonisms, and all recorded for posterity on a concealed wiretap worn by one of the officers. Two nights later, April 3, just before he was due on stage, Bruce was arrested and charged with using obscene language. Also arrested was club owner Howard Solomon.

Bruce was no stranger to controversy. He had several times been cited for obscenity and twice convicted, but this was easily his highest profile arrest yet. He continued his engagement at the Cafe Au Go Go after posting bail. Four nights later, he and Solomon were arrested again. This time police also took Solomon's wife Ella into custody and charged all three with obscenity.

Just days before their trial commenced, a statement signed by more than one hundred prominent members of the arts community was issued to the media. In it, the signatories pledged support for the beleaguered Bruce, but more especially for the principle of free speech.

Herbert S. Rune, an inspector with the NYC Department of Licenses, was the final witness called to testify. He had watched Bruce perform, jotting down surreptitious notes. Over defense objections, he read out an edited version of Bruce's act that highlighted the language used and virtually ignored the context. Worst of all was Rune's assertion, bitterly denied by the defense, that Bruce had fondled the microphone in an obvious and suggestive manner.

This allegation was reiterated by the next witness, Patrolman Robert Lane, who with his partner, William O'Neal, had recorded Bruce. That tape, scratchy, hissing and difficult to make out, was played in court. Wherever the original words were inaudible, a prosecution transcript provided damaging substitutions.

Adjournment For Illness

Two days into the trial, Bruce had to be hospitalized with pleurisy. When the trial resumed June 30, his chief attorney, Efraim London, a veteran of more than 250 censorship and obscenity cases, including notable victories on behalf of Lady Chatterly's Lover and Tropic of Cancer, moved for a dismissal, arguing that the prosecution had not proved a prima facie case having sufficient evidence obscenity. This stimulated a vigorous counter-assault by Assistant District Attorney Richard Kuh. Fulminating against Bruce's "anthology of filth," Kuh demanded that the trial continue. The three-member panel of judges agreed.

London had assembled an all-star cast of witnesses to plead Bruce's cause, including jazz critic, Nat Hentoff. Calling the defendant a brilliant social commentator, Hentoff hinted darkly of "a national movement to harass Lenny Bruce." Further support came from Dr. Daniel B. Dodson, associate professor of English at Columbia University, who compared Bruce favorably to Jonathan Swift and Frangois Rabelais.

The star defense witness was supposed to be columnist Dorothy Kilgallen. She started off well enough, saying, "He [Bruce] goes from one subject to another, but there is always the thread of the world around … whether he's talking about war or peace or religion or Russia or New York." But Kilgallen faltered under Kuh's relentless questioning. After praising Norman Mailer and Jim Jones, writers who both employed earthy language, she slipped badly by blasting another recent book Naked Lunch, "which I couldn't even finish reading.… I think the author should be in jail."

Prosecutor Kuh grasped this gift with both hands, purring, "Unfortunately we can't do everything at once."

Adjourned for Vacation

Yet another adjournment—this time so that Judge John Murtagh could take his summer vacation—gave the prosecutor ample time to line up his own witnesses. When the trial reopened, John Fischer, editor of Harper's magazine, and the Reverend Daniel Potter, executive director of the Protestant Council, both opined that Bruce's work was obscene. Testimony concluded July 28, after which Judge Murtagh instructed counsel that the bench would consider written briefs instead of the customary oral closing arguments.

On November 4, the court reconvened to deliver its verdict. Bruce, who had remained silent throughout, chose this moment to dismiss his lawyers and belligerently insist that he be allowed to conduct his own defense. Judge Murtagh denied the request and read the verdict. "The court, Judge Creel dissenting, finds the defendants Lenny Bruce and Howard Solomon guilty. The court by unanimous vote finds the defendant Ella Solomon not guilty." Sentencing was deferred until December 21, 1964, at which time Bruce received four months Solomon was fined.

The verdict seemed to unhinge Bruce. He became obsessed with appellate litigation. Those legal wheels were still grinding when, on August 3, 1966, he was found dead in his Hollywood home, a hypodermic syringe nearby. An autopsy revealed the presence of morphine. Death was recorded as accidental.

Lenny Bruce's trial attracted immense publicity, a torrent of self-righteous indignation from protagonists on either side of the debate, and still no firm understanding of what constitutes obscenity. At its conclusion, Bruce's life and career were in shambles—vivid proof that free speech is never free, and often costly beyond measure.

—Colin Evans