The Luck of Friendship
Page 28
Do you know my new address? It is 15 W. 72nd, Apt. 33B, and has a lovely view of the park and upper Manhattan. On a very clear day you can see the straits of Gibraltar. On a very clear night you can see just the lights, which is better. On a foggy day you can’t see tomorrow. Oh, well. Sight-seeing was never my kick.
When I finally re-assemble the novella and get it typed up, I will run down to 333 Sixth Ave. Would you like me to give you a few hours advance notice so you can be in Connecticut or somewhere?
Ever yours, Tenn.
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a film-script of Milk Train: The film adaptation, Boom!, was directed by Joseph Losey and released in 1968. It starred Elizabeth Taylor (1932–2011), British-born film actress, who had previously played the leads in the movie versions of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958) and Suddenly Last Summer (1959).
150. TN—2
10/9/65 Saturday
J—
Tenn was just fine, but, my what a lot of time it always takes, and yet noon is the time to see him, before he’s had much to drink. (He had three martinis at lunch, but this mellowed him.) I think that part of it is that he’s really very lonely. The apartment does have a magnificent view north and to the Hudson, and it’s more roomy and thus less cluttered. It was arranged by the cousin, young Adams, who lives there, with his own room and bath. T. seems to have another friend he’d like to have move in but doesn’t know how to let Adams out. Am not sure I understand it all, but I guess there is no involvement with Adams.
T. says the plays [Slapstick Tragedy] are going ahead, now that Margaret Leighton has replaced Leween McGrath (who’s furious but on whose name they couldn’t raise the money). He has rewritten them somewhat. He will let us have them when the play opens “in final form.”
About Twenty-Seven Wagons Full paperbound he said “Why not?” I’ll talk to Audrey.
About poems, he said he hasn’t written one since those several we put into the paperbound In the Winter of Cities. “They weren’t very good,” he said, “and I’ve decided I’m too old to write poetry.” He didn’t think he had anything else for the Annual but would think about it.
He seems serious about our doing in the spring the new book of short plays about which I’ll enclose a memo—for other eyes.
Tenn talks of you with great affection, and asked a couple of times if you were “happy.”
His age seems to preoccupy him a great deal, and when it turned out that he was four or five months even older than me this depressed him momentarily, but quickly I was able to kid him out of that.
He kept asking me what time it was and finally when it was after 3:20, he clapped his hands and said, “Oh, goodie.” It turned out that he could get his swim at the Y nearby and go to meet the analyst. “I have a dream for him today,” he said and we laughed about bringing an apple for the teacher. It turns out that it is the analyst who got him to go and see his mother at Easter, and then he had his mother and brother for her birthday for a week in Bermuda. He now writes her every week, “She’s mellowed, you know.” And this seems to give him much relief. He immediately then, as if it were a part of the free-floating anxiety, spoke of seeing Rose every two weeks, and how he admires Rose’s dignity, the way she has taken her trouble.
Through his cousin, Adams, or someone he seems to have been going to parties at Andy Warhol’s, and some friend of Andy’s sent him a poem that Tenn liked very much. He’ll send to us.
Did I tell you that Nicklaus has brought us a new “volume” of poems? I haven’t had the courage to look at them, but will, and I guess you’ll have to see them too. TW had seen Nicklaus the night before at the ballet and Freddie had been very drunk. Bob
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SECTION XIV
PF: Tennessee’s “late plays,” the plays after Iguana, have always been controversial. Early on New Directions published 27 Wagons Full of Cotton, which collected the earlier, more realistic short plays, and then in 1970 you did Dragon Country, which included In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel and others of the later short plays that were not as realistic. Now what did you really think of those plays like Out Cry, The Two-Character Play?
JL: Tennessee always said to me that that was his most important play, The Two-Character Play, and I could see what he was driving at. He was trying to get to a different kind of human relationship with almost a relationship of despair these two poor people were in, and then I think it was very important, though, that he had the sunflowers so prominently looking in the window.
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151. TLS—1
Jan. 7, ’67 [New York]
DEAR BOB:
Thanks for sending me an advance copy of the book [The Knightly Quest, published February 21, 1967]. Two friends read it for me and said they laughed out loud. I hope that will be a prevalent reaction. I mean I hope more will laugh than be outraged. Despite the delay in publication, it still seems topical. But please no further delay!
Glavin and I are passing a little time here in New Orleans till the Key West house will be vacated by its tenants. We are in the only New Orleans hotel that admits dogs. It is Maison de Ville, Toulouse Street. Last night, in the patio, our intrepid dog caught a large rat.
I am attempting the difficult transition from a finished play [The Two-Character Play] to a new one [Kingdom of Earth].
Love to you and Jay.
Tennessee
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Glavin: Bill Glavin was TW’s partner during the late 1960s.
152. TLS—1
1/18/67 [New York]
DEAR JAY:
Bob wrote me about the loss of your mother. I’m sorry. I would have heard of it sooner, I’m sure, but I have been on a moving kick, Saint Thomas, New Orleans, Chicago. I am now afflicted with flu or bronchitis or something that comes from exhaustion. Soon as I recover a bit I will be heading back South.
Maria is in town. Full of antibiotics, I went with her to see a lovely musical, Man of La Mancha, about my favorite character, Don Quixote. It was wonderful being with her again. My God, how the wind is howling about this terrible, tacky building! I’m going back to bed as the doctor ordered. The antibiotics make me feel a long way away, and the only place to feel that way is in bed.
I hope all’s going well with you, now.
Ever,
Tennessee
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153. TL—1
2/19/67 [New York]
DEAR TENNESSEE:
I was sorry to hear that you were troubled because the new book [The Knightly Quest and Other Stories] was not included in the list ad in the Times on February 12th. This was because the books were not yet in the stores by that date, and it just makes the stores, and readers, mad if we advertise a book before they have copies to sell. You probably thought the books were on sale because you had received your copies, but let me explain there is always a period of about six weeks between completed books and publication date in order to give the reviewers time to write their reviews and the papers time to get them set up in type. We try to have everything “break” at about the same time: books in stores, reviews, and ads.
Please don’t think for a moment that we don’t like the book—I like it VERY MUCH—or that we don’t do right by it in the ads. It is all planned, just a question of timing. It is in the ads in Book Week, the joint section of NY Tribune, Chicago Sun, Washington Post, this Sunday, the 26th; and then it will be in the NY Times on March 12th. And then there will be some special ads on Knightly Quest alone when we have some good review quotes to work with. Keep in touch where you are and I’ll send along copies as these ads come along.
I hope it is nice down there in Key West and you are having some sun and fun. I always remember my nice visit with you down there, and your marvelous grandfather, I bet you miss him.
As ever,
[James Laughlin]
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154. TLS—1
March 25, ’67 [New York]
DEAR JAY AND BOB:
Here is the first poe
m I have completed in a long time. It’s probably something to be put in the files.
I’m leaving today for a few weeks in Key West, then to Europe.
Sidney Lanier says that The Two-Character Play has been accepted for the Edinburgh Festival in September. With some luck, I’ll go to England for the rehearsals in late July and the try-outs in provincial places.
Is the book selling at all? If there are any more reviews send them to me in Key West—1431 Duncan Street.
Now to pack.
Ciao!
Tenn.
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first poem I have completed in a long time: “Young Men Waking at Daybreak” was first published in Evergreen Review 50, December 1967, and collected in Androgyne, Mon Amour (1977).
Sidney Lanier: (1923–2013). Rev. Lanier, who was an Episcopalian minister, referred to himself as a “theologically trained layman” after he left the priesthood. In 1963, Lanier gutted the interior of St. Clements Church on West 46th Street in Manhattan and along with Wynn Handiman founded the American Place Theater. Lanier went on to produce Broadway plays, including TW’s The Slapstick Tragedy in 1966, and later moved to Big Sur where he worked at the Esalen Institute. A cousin to TW—they were mutual descendants of the nineteenth-century Southern poet Sidney Lanier—Lanier was the model for the defrocked Episcopal priest, the Rev. Shannon, in The Night of the Iguana and he conducted the service at TW’s funeral.
155. TL—1
3/30/67 [New York]
DEAR TENN -
“Young Men Waking at Daybreak” is a lovely poem, I think. It moves well and says some pretty profound things in its quiet way. I’m glad you’re writing poems again, and hope you’ll do more. I always love your poems, which seem to me very much the essential you in their directness, and yet so subtle.
When you have a few more new ones, let’s think, perhaps, of a limited edition done by one of the fine handprinters, a really beautiful book, such as we did with I Rise [I Rise in Flame, Cried the Phoenix]. What about that wonderful one you wrote about Frank? Did that ever get published anywhere?
The Knightly Quest is moving along all right. Nothing sensational, and the reviews have been, as they say, “mixed,” but I have confidence it will make its way by word of mouth. More ads early in April, if the papers don’t get struck, as is now threatened by the printers.
Hope it’s nice down there.
Very best, as ever,
[JL]
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wonderful one you wrote about Frank: “A Separate Poem” was added to the paperback edition of In the Winter of Cities in 1964.
156. TLS—1
August 1, 1967 [New York]
DEAR BOB:
I’ve been wanting to see you and Jay. Do you remember the “will” made out by the New Directions lawyer? There are several changes I think should be made. Audrey Wood should function along with you and Jay in making out contracts for my work. You wouldn’t want the responsibility alone. She has a malicious tongue, at times, but has been associated so long with my work that it would be unduly harsh to eliminate her altogether. Could the lawyer add a codicil restoring her (with you and Jay) to the making of posthumous contracts? There is another important matter in the will, if I remember it correctly, that I’d like to change or at least check up on. If you have the time, call me this week and I could come downtown to look the document over. I’ve made out no other will since that one. Since I’m feeling so far from well, it seems a thing of some urgency.
Poems in the files? The only good one I can think of is “Young Men Waking at Daybreak,” but when I drop by to adjust the will, I could look at any other poems of any value you have on file.
I leave for Sardinia in about ten days to watch the shooting of the film made out of Milk Train—that is, if I feel able to make the trip.
I’ve seen Frederick Nicklaus several times lately and he’s shown me new poems of his that I think are marvelous. Of course, I suppose he will always be “traditional” in his style. He’s a desperate young man and I’m a desperate old one—a basis for some degree of communication, perhaps.
To you and Jay my warmest regards as ever,
Tennessee
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157. TLS—1
[3/10/68] [Philadelphia]
DEAR JAY:
It was kind of you to send me the heartening review [of The Two-Character Play] from England. There was also an excellent review in the Observer and the London Times. Last night, for the first time, the play here, which they call The Seven Descents of Myrtle despite my protests, was as funny and touching as I had wanted it to be.
As for me, I am tired to the bone. Bone tired. It will be surprising to me if I survive the Philadelphia and New York openings.
Mother is coming up for the New York one. She wrote me that she had a dress of real lace and that she wanted me to buy her a feather boa and elbow length gloves, and I did. Whenever things collapse on the stage, if they do, there should be a small spotlight turned on her. I am sure she will make coquettish gestures with the boa, flipping it from right to left or left to right.
She is an apparition, perhaps you might say a terrifying apparition, but at the age of 84 I suppose it is her privilege to be one.
I’m sure you’ll excuse me for not writing much of a letter just now. I feel as if I’d been ravaged, without vaseline, by a troop of elephants.
But Spring in Key West will pull me together again.
My love to you and Bob,
10.
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England: The first version of The Two-Character Play opened in London in December of 1967.
the play here: The title of TW’s play Kingdom of Earth was changed by producer David Merrick, and it opened as The Seven Descents of Myrtle on Broadway March 27, 1968.
158. TL—1
3/30/68 [New York]
DEAR TENN:
I do want to thank you so much for giving us the pleasure of the opening [of The Seven Descents of Myrtle]. Although you maintain that I didn’t see the play—because they didn’t do it the way you wrote it—I’ve got to confess that I found it completely absorbing and thoroughly enjoyed it.
But be assured that we will get it in the book the way you wrote it, and stress in the promotion that it is in the Gothick [sic] tradition.
Here is your little check for the poem in the annual. I trust copies of the book reached you safely and let me know if you need more.
I’ll talk to you soon again about the idea of a signed, beautifully-printed edition of The Two-Character Play. I agree with the London critic that that is one of your masterpieces, and I think we should get it in print. There can be a trade edition later when it gets produced here.
I’m just off for a few days of spring skiing in Colorado, and will call you when I get back.
Very best,
[James Laughlin]
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poem in the annual: TW’s poem “You and I” was published in NDPP 20 in 1968.
159. TLS—1
April [rcd. April 15] 1968 [Key West]
DEAR BOB:
I am so pleased that you will publish the play [Kingdom of Earth] in its original long version and with its real title. I loved the jacket design on Suddenly Last Summer.
I am trying hard to recover from the play production but it’s a sticky do. Can’t sleep more than two or three hours and feel a terrible disinterest in everything of a social nature down here. I have a play script and a film-script to work on but so far the little creative work I do is very primitive painting.
Wasn’t it lucky that Estelle Parsons got that Academy Award so the engagement can be extended a bit?
I can’t tell you how tired I am. It is hard to move around. Well, I’m an old man now.
The weather of Key West remains as lovely as ever, and the pool I had constructed is also a help.
I wish I could think of somewhere to go next. Endsucht, maybe.
I don’t believe God is dead but I think
he is inclined to pointless brutalities.
You know how I feel so you won’t mind the brevity of this letter.
My love as always to you and Jay,
10.
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jacket design: For the jacket of Kingdom of Earth MacGregor had suggested the same designer who had done the jacket for Suddenly Last Summer, Stefan Salter.
Estelle Parsons: (1927–). American stage and screen actress, Parsons created the role of Myrtle on Broadway and won the Academy Award for best supporting actress in the film Bonnie and Clyde.
Endsucht: Apparently TW’s attempt to coin a German compound word meaning, approximately, “sickness unto death.”
160. TLS—1
July 5, ’68 [Key West]
DEAR JAY AND BOB:
How kind of you both to write me!
I am delighted by the idea of the limited publication of The Two-Character Play. About the songs, I should think you would release them in whatever manner you are accustomed to.
I am going to send you a somewhat primitive painting I did of Frankie. I call it The Portrait of an Idol—which it seems to be.
About the scandal—I am hysterical and my little brother whom I love very much is indiscreet.
Tony Richardson: “Tennessee, your life is complete hysteria.”—No argument there. But it does strike back at you sometimes.
Bill [Glavin] flew down yesterday with Gigi, the precocious little dog.
It’s fiendishly hot here. Perhaps I can persuade Marion [Vaccaro] to go to Taos with me. Fuck the altitude! The air is cool and pure. Heat prostration unheard of.