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Vidal Kicks Up Dust Again
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Candidate
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| Contributor | Craverguy |
| Last Edited | Craverguy Oct 21, 2009 08:40pm |
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| Category | Profile |
| Author | Lloyd Grove |
| News Date | Wednesday, October 21, 2009 02:05:00 PM UTC0:0 |
| Description | There were moments at the 92nd Street Y Tuesday night when Gore Vidal was just a sweet old man, reminiscing.
“What do you miss most about Ravello?” asked his literary executor, Middlebury College English professor Jay Parini, reading an audience question about the Amalfi Coast palazzo where Vidal had lived with Howard Austen, his companion of 53 years.
“Hmmm, Howard, I suppose,” Vidal mused sadly—and the answer just hung there, a cloud of muted grief.
Austen died six years ago. At 84, Vidal himself is nearing the end. He is white-haired and wheelchair-bound. The skin on his face is like rice paper. When he tries to smile he manages a grimace. Could he really be the same imperially slim, beautiful young man projected on the big screen behind him, whose photograph was taken 65 years ago, on the occasion of his first novel, Williwaw?
“It’s a brilliant book—I loved that book,” Parini cooed.
“I loved hearing you say that,” Vidal retorted, in a moment of comic relief.
“I’ll say it again,” Parini offered.
“Oh no, I’ll repeat it for you,” Vidal said, to rising laughter. “I want to spare you the monotony.”
Most of Vidal’s friends are dead and gone. His pop-cultural references seem to stop at Johnny Carson. When he was rolled onstage at the Young Men’s and Young Women’s Hebrew Association, he wasn’t the razor-tongued fencer, poised to cut and thrust; instead, he seemed vulnerable, in need of protection. |
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