On Norman Mailer's Passing: When the Curtain Rises
Just now, Sunday morning, I finished reading, in the New York Times, Charles McGrath's excellent review of Mailer's life -- and I choose "review" rather than obituary deliberately -- because Mailer was as much a piece of extraordinary theater as he was "towering writer." As I read McGrath's review, I felt the hush that overcomes me when the curtain rises and which I remember having experienced each time I found myself in Norman Mailer's theatrical presence. And, reading about this man, this character, himself as startling and colorful as any he'd written, I cried.
More than another death, a time has gone by.
Read more tributes to Norman Mailer on HuffPost here.
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A long time ago, I saw Norman Mailer's name in connection with Thomas(Tommy) Trantino. Does anyone remember what that was all about?
I think of Mailer as one of the great nin-fiction writers of our time. Hs essay, the WHite Negro, was stunning to me when I rad it as an undergraduate. I have read it many times and continue to believe it is one of the great American essays. The Armies of the Night was also a work of genius, changing the course of non-fiction writing much like Capote's In Cold Blood. On the other hand, his fiction writing was less inspiring. I read all 1,100 plus pages of Harlot's Ghost and found it incredibly weak. I think history will remeber him as one of our greatest non-fiction writers but wen it comes to fiction, he cannot walk in the shadows of James, Faulkner, Buck, Hemingway, or Fitzgerald.
I always thought Mailer's non-fiction articles far superior to some of his incredibly over-written, self-indulgent novels. When writing non-fiction his prose was usually crisp and evocative, his descriptions of actual persons frequently spot-on. MIAMI AND THE SIEGE OF CHICAGO has some superb moments that no other writer could have achieved. As a woman, I found a lot of Mailer offensive, but also think that, when sober and serious, he wrote some of our most American-flavored literature. I, for one, shall miss his infuriating, arrogant, and extraordinarily talented presence.
I know that Mr.Mailer was wholeheartedly against the Vietnam war like a lot of us.
I wonder how he would respond to seeing cheney laying a wreath at the Arlington Cemetary. He probably didn't have anything better to do as that was the reason for his 5 deferrments for getting out of the draft.His hypocracy is rearing its ugly head again.
Fairly late one evening five years ago or so, I was drinking a glass of wine at the bar of the Norman Mailer's. It overlooks Provincetown Harbor. I was the houseguest of some people who knew Mailer quite well, and was invited along.
During a lull in the conversation I asked Norman about (damn, I can't remember--the war, JFK, The Deer Park, something). His off the cuff answer (which I can't remember either) was susinct, germaine, right on the money--it didn't answer simply my question, it answered ALL questions, and I told him so.
He sort of grinned and said, "Yep that was pretty good."
I was in the presence of the Oracle, and I simply and foolishly don't remember what he said. I just remember that in his case, the hype was justified.
Later, I told him this little story and we laughed.
Thank you, Norman Mailer. You lead the development and growth of the kind of writing that means something and which brought important issues of the day to the people. You called it like you saw it, called us to action and reminded us all that we have the power -- not just through writing and words, but through many outlets -- to impel change.
Oops, I meant Jack Abbott, of course. He was released and killed again. Sorry about that.
Was Mailer a literary lion? I don't know. I'm a woman and, while I thought he often wrote some startlingly beautiful prose, his bombast and rage almost always took over and ultimately ruined it.
Like so many creative people who let their celebrity get in the way of their talent, he grew into a phony image. . .the tough guy he thought the people who bought his books would want.
In later years, he looked at his actions. . .stabbing his wife, for example. . .and wondered who that person was who did such a thing. But at the time, he blustered through and, in the eyes of many, became the lesser for it.
The same with Gary Gilmore. Mailer's enormous ego--I can play God--kept alive the mission to release a killer, and when he killed again, maybe inevitably, Norman laid low.
His books weren't the whole of his life, which is too bad, because his actions often overshadowed his writing. I feel the same way about Mailer that I feel about Picasso--being a great artist can't mask the fact that he was a colossal prick.
As a novelist and poet who came to adulthood in a time dominated by Mailer and a few others like him, and who experienced having all the air sucked out of the room by literati who couldn't talk about anything else, I never had much sympathy for the bellowing pomposity of the appointed figureheads, those who got nominated as the big boys (and they were mostly boys) early and never were questioned again. (Where is the much-ballyhooed "nonfiction novel" now?)
I admired Mailer's political courage, but did not think his writing was all that good. The Naked and the Dead is clumsy, though I will give him credit for inventing the substitute word "Fug." American Dream is both silly and horrifying, and not in any way I find redeeming. Tough Guys Don't Dance is just ludicrous. Mailer wasn't a tough guy. Robert Parker does tough guy worlds better, and Parker is not a tough guy himself. Lee Childs, John Sandford. These pop writers are far more convincing than Mailer on toughness.
Theatre is the right word. Mailer was a giant, and I will miss him. But a giant what?
I'm sorry to have to ask: But does anyone else find this galling? The Voice of America website's obituary refers to the success of the "prolific and controversial" author's first novel and states it is "remarkable because Mailer wrote realistically of combat without ever actually having taken part in battle." Personally, I believe this statement to be misleading to the point of being libelous. Because what the article fails to reveal to its readers "in 44 languages" around the world is that Norman Mailer -- unlike the executive in chief who I believe is ultimately responsible for the VOA -- served his country with honor in the military for two years during a time of war. I have been demanding a correction through VOA and the State Department since Saturday to no avail - making what was already one of the saddest Veteran's Days I can remember even worse. Can anyone help? (You can see the VOA piece here: http://www.voanews.com/english/2007-11-10-voa19.cfm) -Dan Currie, Boston
passing it along to norman first.....
You won't find many women who agree with you. His egregious position on birth control, general flailing against feminists, and misguided attempt to promote killer Jack Abbott into the boys' club of heroic tough-guy writers, with such an immediate disastrous consequence, outweigh his literary achievements.
Mailer was first and foremost an egomaniacal brute.
Getting past the personality of the artist to the art, is for many, an impossiblity. Perhaps it should be our responsibility.
THE ROAR OF YOUR ABSENCE
I talked to Mailer
he hasn’t been dead
24 hours --
I said
You’ve chased
the big book
all your life
Your life
bigger
than any book
you
or
anyone
could ever
write.
There was
silence
between us.
I suspect
he’s thinking over
what I said today.
Its not like him
to lose
his tongue
in moments
like this.
Jab
jab
kick
kick
spit
spit
over-
hand
under-
hand
chop
chop
chop
in
the
throat
no mercy
no quarter
no compromise
Tough Guys
Don't fuckin' Dance
Nothing less in death
I expect.
So I’ll be waiting.
The roar of your absence
a cacophony:
breaking plates
gun shots
Bacchus exhortations
the din
keeping me company.
No surprise
your quick-change
body-shift:
Galaxies on fire
heralding
your transit.
***
11/11/07
Jeremy Iacone
Yes, a time has gone by . . . a time when we still have some literary giants who opposed the establishment . . . it is a sad passing in many ways . . .
I guess I have a touch of the absurd about me . . . I still remember the day Gore Vidal punched Mailer on Cavitt . . . we only have Gore Vidal left now . . . we should treasure him.
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Posted November 11, 2007 | 12:55 PM (EST)