I count myself as guilty as the next guy when it comes to ignoring the details of my literary ancestors’ lives, but in my romantic, sepia-toned fantasies of the past, all writers had to do was string lovely sentences together. Then again, when I consider the ones with staying power, most of them had something that would please a publicist. Hemingway was impossibly masculine, rugged, and outdoorsy; London photographed like a sad-eyed movie star; and Sylvia Plath was out of her mind. I’m mildly cheered by the idea that all Dorothy Parker and her cohorts had to do was drink themselves into oblivion on a daily basis at the Algonquin. Unfortunately, I doubt this approach will work for me. My friends just aren’t famous or witty enough for anyone to take notice when we get drunk together.
On Considering The Right Friends (For Bio Purposes Only)
June 30th, 2005 · 9 Comments
by Booksquare
File Under: Quote of the Week
9 responses so far ↓
Brenda Coulter // Jun 30, 2005 at 11:12 am
That entire essay was delicious. Thanks for sharing.
Booksquare // Jun 30, 2005 at 8:58 pm
I can only hope you’re compiling a list of wacky friends…one never knows!
Lorra // Jul 1, 2005 at 6:12 am
So, let me ask you this: If I wore widow’s weeds from Victorias Secret and hosted an Irish Wake and Viking Burial at Sea (think flaming boat) for my goldfish who gave me sixteen wonderful years, does that qualify as eccentric and/or glamorous enough? (My mourning outfit had a plunging, lacy neckline and with Victoria’s help, there was a hint of cleavage.)
barefootjim // Jul 1, 2005 at 8:10 am
I just assume that everybody’s friends and family and lives and loves are all essentially interesting and insane,and that it’s all about how much you’re willing to publicize it.
Booksquare // Jul 1, 2005 at 8:45 am
Well, far be it for me to suggest proper funeral attire for a goldfish, but, yeah, eccentric.
And Jim, by default, your life is half mine, so anything you say or do can be appropriated and twisted to suit my needs. And I’m pretty much willing to go public with everything other people do.
Lorra // Jul 1, 2005 at 5:05 pm
Why do I get the sense that you L.A. types have never been to a goldfish funeral? And I thought y’all were trendsetters. I’m so disillusioned!
Kate // Jul 2, 2005 at 6:39 pm
my cousin (actually my mother’s cousin, but closer to my age) is Louise Glu[with an umlaut]ck, the US (former) poet laureate Pretty good, eh? One of our relatives said about the two of us “The family’s writers range from high art to popular porn.” I chose to take it as a compliment–hey I strive for popularity.
Joan Kelly // Jul 5, 2005 at 2:58 pm
I would like to know what “widow’s weeds” are please? (The plunging neckline and cleavage, while enjoyable to hear about, were not helpful hints for me in conjuring a specific image, as I basically get the same effect with my v-neck BVD t-shirt and crossing my arms really tight…)
Thank you,
Joan
Booksquare // Jul 5, 2005 at 7:47 pm
Kate — you may win. Can I join your family. I promise to fall on your side.
Joan — how odd that I didn’t notice. I’m thinking she meant a merry widow, at least that’s how I read it. Getting slow in my old age. Widow’s weeds are, well, the best way to describe them is by having you picture the heavy black dresses that Victorian (and prior) women wore while in mourning. Really ugly stuff, but on the positive side, black is quite slimming. Or so I tell myself, especially on days like today.
Lorra — no, very few goldfish funerals around here. Booksquare is a cat-only household. And these cats have a policy of only killing their friends. It surprises them when it happens — probably I should have a talk with them about exuberance.