Lit Lovers, assemble!

Our friends at the DC Center are now hosting a book club for LGBTQ+ seniors: Lit Lovers! The group meets monthly in person at the Center, and this month's book--which the club will discuss on Saturday, Sept. 19, from 2-3:30 p.m.--is Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop. (We have not yet discussed that one, though we have read her short story, "Paul's Case," and one of her novels, The Professor's House.) Check it out!

The Capote Centennial, Part 2

In conjunction with Truman Capote's 100th birthday (today), the New Yorker newsletter recently featured Truman Capote's original 1965 series of four articles that would become In Cold Blood. And as a bonus, here are two related articles, also from the magazine's archive:

"Capote's Long Ride" by George Plimpton

"Capote's Co-Conspirators" by Patrick Radden Keefe

Happy 100th Birthday, Truman Capote!

The latest edition of Washington Post book critic Ron Charles' weekly Book Club newsletter (free to join even if you're not a Post subscriber, and highly recommended) contains this timely item (into which I've inserted a few comments within brackets). Enjoy!

Today marks the 100th anniversary of Truman Capote’s birth. The celebrated author was born in New Orleans on Sept. 30, 1924. 

We just don’t make characters like him anymore. His first book, an autobiographical novel called “Other Voices, Other Rooms,” was a bestseller in 1948 when he was 23 years old. Even his sultry author photo caused a stir.

Esquire published “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” [which we discussed in 2014] in November 1958. (Harper’s was originally set to publish it but got into a tiff with the author over his language.) Three years later, the novella was immortalized in a film adaptation directed by Blake Edwards with Audrey Hepburn playing Holly Golightly.

Capote’s 1966 bestseller, “In Cold Blood” [which we discussed earlier this year]— first serialized in The New Yorker — is considered a seminal example of “a nonfiction novel” (whatever that is). The accuracy of his story about the murder of a family in Kansas was the subject of fierce debate. In any case, he never published another novel. A few screenplays, articles and short stories followed, but just being Truman Capote became his central employment. [We discussed Answered Prayers in 2015.]

My first exposure to Capote’s work was playing the part of Buddy in a rendition of his oft-anthologized story “A Christmas Memory” during the annual Christmas Sing at my exceedingly conservative Christian prep school in St. Louis. Afterward, the audience enjoyed pieces of fruitcake. For the holidays, at least, we had a strict Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy.

Thirty years later when I came to The Washington Post, folks were still whispering about the Black and White Ball that Capote threw in 1966 in honor of our legendary publisher Katharine Graham.

Though he died in 1984, Capote is still throwing around his generosity. Several schools, including the Iowa Writers' Workshop, Cornell and the University of Alabama continue to receive money from the Truman Capote Literary Trust.

And the books keep coming (details). Look for a new edition of “A Christmas Memory” from Modern Library on Oct. 8, and a fresh edition of “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” from Vintage early next year. (There are T-shirts, too.)

The 92nd Street Y and Modern Library are planning a special event entitled “Truman Capote: A Centenary Celebration” on Dec. 5. It won’t be the Black and White Ball, but at least you can get a ticket (attend or stream). ❖

Kirchick, Welles, Chambers & Cohn

(Sounds like a law firm, doesn't it?! :-)

Ten of us gathered online last Wednesday to kick off our ongoing discussion of James Kirchick's Secret City: The Hidden History of Gay Washington. To follow up on our consideration of his first two sections, on FDR and Truman, I'd like to share some additional reading:

First of all, David Mendler was kind enough to forward this link to an October 2022 interview with the author, conducted at the D.C. Library, about Secret City.

Second, during the chat Mike Mazza shared a fascinating article about a key State Department official during the Roosevelt administration: "The Trouble with Sumner Welles: Sexuality, Race and the Limits of Mythmaking in Queer History" (July 2022 Journal of American Studies).

Roy Cohn doesn't come up until the Eisenhower era (which we'll get to in December), but let me go ahead and share this April 2018 New York Magazine commentary about the infamous fixer by Frank Rich: "The Original Roy Cohn."

Finally: Those of you who took part in our Zoom discussion may recall my expressing discomfort with the way the book deals with Whittaker Chambers and Alger Hiss in the chapter devoted to their clash. (Short version: I believe Kirchick is much harder on the latter than the former, because it fits his political bias.) And that reminds me that back in January, I indulged my blogmaster prerogative to take him to task for something else he's written: 

"Later this year, we'll discuss James Kirchick's Secret City: The Hidden History of Gay Washington. On Dec. 26, Kirchick published an op-ed in the Washington Post that was ostensibly about an eight-second video showing two men (one a U.S. Senate staffer who was immediately fired) having anal sex in a Hart Building hearing room. But that tawdry story was just a convenient hook to market his book. That's his right, of course, but I found his article's thesis less than persuasive: 

"Aside from a handful of far-right outlets, Washington's chattering class has shrugged its shoulders at the scandal's gay aspect, and one gathers that the city would be just as titillated if the copulating couple were straight. Fortunately, the denizens of Gay Washington no longer live in secret, and our exhibitionist former Senate staffer is being judged not from whom he loved, but for how he behaved." Seriously?" 

At the risk of doubling down, I feel compelled to say that I find Kirchick's latest op-ed, in the New York Times, even more troubling. Because the topic he addresses, "How Lying Became Disinformation," doesn't have any LGBTQ connection (other than the author being a gay man himself), I'm not going to go into further detail here. But I encourage you to read it for yourselves if you're curious.

That said, I gladly join the consensus of my colleagues that Secret City is an excellent history, and Kirchick deserves the critical acclaim he has been receiving for it. And I'm glad we will be discussing it throughout next year. Join us!

'Tis a truth universally acknowledged...

I don't know whom to credit with this modern take on a classic painting (if any of you do, please let me know), but let's just say that it struck a chord--or nerve--with yours truly.

A Plunket primer

In preparation for next week's discussion of Robert Plunket's 1983 comic novel, My Search for Warren Harding, I went to Wikipedia to look up the author--only to discover that he has no Wikipedia page!

Fortunately, Lee Levine (who nominated the book--thanks!) rode to the rescue, pointing me to this 2023 New Yorker profile: "One of America's funniest, gayest writers is finally becoming famous."

Besides being a hoot to read, that article will give you the essentials about the man and the novel. But if it whets your appetite for more background, here are some additional links:

New York Times: "Taking a late-in-life victory lap, thanks to his novel's "lunatic energy"

Vulture: "Robert Plunket is fine with being rediscovered"

Substack (The Caftan Chronicles): "Robert Plunket's comeback after writing the funniest, gayest novel of all time"

Note: There is also a Paris Review interview with Plunket, but that is the basis of Danzy Senna's foreword in the 40th-anniversary edition of the novel I've suggested we use. However, if you have a different edition (which is perfectly fine) without that introduction, you might want to check out the article.

Give poems a chance! 😀

Nine of us--including the book's co-editors, our very own Philip Clark and Michael Bronski--went online last week for a very enjoyable discussion of the second half of Invisible History: The Collected Poems of Walta Borawski. Tim Hennessey made an observation that I wanted to share in hopes of enticing more people to read Borawski:

"I haven't read many poems, and I don't feel like I know much about poetry. But Borawski's poems really spoke to me, and I enjoyed reading them." I second that assessment, and would just add that most of the  poems are about a page long (and many are shorter than that). So if one selection doesn't speak to you, try the next one. 

In that spirit, at the risk of embarrassing Philip, I also want to plug a previous anthology he edited (which we discussed back in 2010 and 2011): Persistent Voices: Poetry by Writers Lost to AIDS. I still regard it as one of the best anthologies of verse I've had the pleasure of reading, and I dip back into it from time to time. Alas, it is out of print, but used copies are available on Amazon and ABE Books, among other sources.