Selected Letters of William Styron (85 page)

Reports in the press, which we have no reason to doubt—especially since you have publicly verified some of these reports—have indicated that the bulk of the contributions are frivolous and certainly opportunistic. In any case, to produce a novel within the space of a year—on demand, so to speak—would seem an activity in which literary principles are almost bound to be compromised. We would not wish to give an award to any work which is so likely to be meretricious.

In short, none of us believes that the Turner Tomorrow Award will elicit entries of sufficient merit to warrant our giving a prize. We are therefore stating this view explicitly so that before the time of judging comes you and others connected with the award will be forewarned about our almost totally negative frame of mind We will quite understand if, because of our position, you will wish to substitute other judges in our place, and that might be the best solution. Copies of this letter are going to Nadine Gordimer and Wallace Stegner, and in the interest of fairness we hope you will make available copies to the other judges, to whom we have no access, so that they also may have an opportunity to agree or disagree with our position.
^†ccc

Sincerely,

Bill      

T
O
L
OUIS
D. R
UBIN
, J
R
.

March 24, 1991 Roxbury, CT

Dear Louis,

Many thanks for the data on the Styron relatives on the Outer Banks. It turns out that there are more Styrons around than I had ever imagined. I was at an airline counter in San Diego not too long ago, trying to work out some sort of travel deal, when the agent pressed a button on his computer and found a
William C. Styron
of such-and-such an address in Raleigh, N.C. Precisely my name—obviously some unknown cousin. I will definitely subscribe to
The Mailboat
.
^†ddd

I thought you’d like to see the enclosed from the
San Francisco Examiner
, especially since you are alluded to as the benign cupid who put together the Styron-Burgunder connection. I’ll always be in your debt.

You did a great job with Algonquin and should be proud and rest contentedly on your well-deserved laurels.
^†eee

I’m sorry I can’t make Chattanooga but will look forward to other sessions with the good ole boys.
^†fff
Hope you all have fun.

Yrs,

Bill

T
O
P
HILIP
R
OTH

January 3, 1992 Roxbury, CT

Dear Philip:

For my sins, I’m off to India, where I fully expect to get stuck (sucked?) by a Sikh; however, even if I don’t get back I wanted to say I’m sorry your book, etc., prevented our getting together to talk about
Operation Shylock
.
It’s a splendid book as you must know, energetic and challenging, perhaps your best yet and you should be relaxed and proud. I really would like to talk to you in detail—there’s so much richness in the book to deal with. I’ll be back on the 18
^th
of Jan.—thank God only two weeks eating curry and ghee (and a fly or two) so I’ll contact you and we’ll talk. Rose is staying until the first week in February.

I mentioned you at some length in
The Nation
(your Halcion siege) and I hope they sent you a copy, as I requested.
^†ggg
You also might want to look at my reflections on WWII in the current
Newsweek
.
^†hhh

Have a happy New Year. You eminently deserve it.

In Jesus’ name

—B            

T
O
A
RTHUR
S
CHLESINGER
, J
R
.

March 1, 1992 Roxbury, CT

Dear Arthur:

This month the University of Georgia Press is publishing a book called
The Return of Nat Turner
by a white historian named Albert Stone.
^†iii
I’ve not read it but from responsible sources I’ve heard that it’s basically an attack on my book—a novel that I’d thought after 25 years (this year is its silver anniversary) had enough integrity and had grown venerable enough to be free of such molestations. I gather that once again the attacker, like the blacks in 1968, seems unable to comprehend the prerogatives of the historical novelist and is attempting to lambaste me on the narrowest of historiographical principles.

Needless to say I’m sick of this kind of vulgar ignorance, which could be dismissed as the work of a yahoo were it not for the mischief it might
cause in these wretched times of political correctness. Aside from being aware that you might simply be interested in this phenomenon per se, I was wondering if you might know someone in the historical field, sympathetic to ole
Nat
, who might want to head this guy off at the pass and deal with him in a review somewhere.
^†jjj
Any suggestions you might have, at this moment of my renewed martyrdom, will be greatly appreciated.

Love to Alexandra

As ever

Bill

T
O
C
ARLOS
F
UENTES

June 28, 1992 Vineyard Haven, MA

Dear Carlos,

I’ve been engrossed in reading
The Buried Mirror
and wanted to tell you what a splendid work I think it is.
^†kkk
It has told me so much and brought together so many historical strands that I’m fairly astonished at how you’ve managed to do it—creating this intricate tapestry with such consummate skill. I might add that your gifts as a novelist are eminently on display, for
the book has tremendous narrative drive and has held me spellbound for the past few days.

I wish I could feel as sanguine and enthusiastic about this country of mine. The Supreme Court decision on kidnapping (especially Mexicans) is one of the most astoundingly arrogant judicial edicts ever to be handed down by any tribunal anywhere. It makes me want to hang my head in shame for our vaunted democratic process. I honestly do think that the U.S.A. is sliding down the tubes and there seems to be nothing in the future (certainly no presidential candidate) to arrest the process.

I have however been able to arrest the prostate process about which I was so distressed when we talked on the phone a week or so ago. I was so badly blocked that I’d almost resigned myself to the terrible Roto-rooter operation but since then I’ve been saved by a little pill called Hytrin. This is a medication known as a “smooth muscle relaxant” which works subtly on the bladder outlet to permit freer urine flow. I’ve been on Hytrin for some time now and most of my mealtime anguish (getting up several times to deal with blockage and a weak dribble) has been alleviated. If you haven’t already been put onto this pill, I urge you to do everything you can to try it. No side effects that I can detect, and my urologist (who’s head of the department at Harvard Medical School) says he feels that it’s only a matter of time when this pill (which has been approved by the F.D.A. to lower high blood pressure but not for prostrate trouble) will be the panacea for all but the most intractable problems.
^†lll
(The F.D.A., he says, is typically dragging its heels for complicated and nasty reasons I won’t go into, though it has to do with
money
.) Anyway, do get your doc to put you on this pill if you still need treatment (the generic name is Terazosin).
^†mmm

Young Carlos came by here some time ago in his beautiful Pussymobile, and spent the night and then disappeared in quest of, I’m sure, those treasures the Pussymobile is made for. It was lovely as usual to see him.

Will be awaiting your arrival in September. Meanwhile, love to Sylvia and stay in touch.

Abrazos,

Bill

T
O
W
ILLIE
M
ORRIS

June 13, 1993 Vineyard Haven, MA

Dear Willie,

I don’t think my conversation on the phone with you the other day could possibly convey the extent of my enthusiasm for
New York Days
.
^†nnn
It’s simply a wonderful book, rich in anecdote, history, language and feeling. I think that when the final accounting is made, the book will rank not only as one of the finest renditions of the 1960s but, quite simply, as one of the great memoirs of the century. It is an overwhelmingly splendid achievement that has left me gasping for superlatives. It’s so damned
readable
—I couldn’t set it aside for a minute—and I reveled in your continuously captivating prose. I hope you’re very proud of what you’ve done. I’ll be at the party in New York; I wouldn’t miss it, and would travel from Tibet to be there.

As ever,

Stingo

P.S. The MS is now in the hands of my summer neighbor, pushing 90, Virginia Foster Durr, who loves the book.

T
O
G
AVIN
C
OLOGNE
-B
ROOKES

May 3, 1994
^†ooo
Roxbury, CT

Dear Gavin,

Since we were last in touch I’ve had a few physical problems which, fortunately, I’ve managed to beat pretty well. In this era of high-tech medicine one manages to dance and skip one’s way along life’s perilous path just a few steps ahead of the undertaker. As a matter of fact, my problem was never life-threatening but not a barrel of laughs, either. Last summer and fall I began to notice that my right shoulder and arm were not functioning too well. So I went up to Boston to MGH (Massachusetts General Hospital, also known as Man’s Greatest Hospital) for tests and they discovered a great deal of arthritic buildup which was causing nerve compression in the neck vertebra and consequent loss of muscle strength. So early in December I had a 5-hour operation. For a week afterward I was in real pain but that went away and the good news, finally, is that the operation seemed to halt the deterioration and I’m improving. I’m quite relativistic about this whole matter; although I’ll probably never again have full strength I’m not really dysfunctional, not in a wheelchair, have fine appetite, can still get it up, etc. So what the hell, existence could be a lot worse.

Your mention of
Death of a Salesman
prompts me to reflect on the fact that just last night in New York, I saw Arthur’s new play
Broken Glass
.
^†ppp
As usual, it got savaged by the critics here but will probably be a big hit in London. Arthur is quite amusing about all this. I think he no longer expects the U.S. critics to give him so much as the time of day but of course he feels that so long as the Brits love him in the passionate way they do, he’s home free. It’s good to be loved somewhere.

A Tidewater Morning
came out here last fall and did quite well for a slim book of stories but set no record on the best-seller lists—something I hadn’t expected anyway. The reviews were in general quite good and the
book has been contracted for in all European countries except Germany, for some odd reason, where I really could care less about publication. Jim West remarked that the one review from England he saw—from, I think, the
Sunday Times
—may have been the single nastiest review he’s ever read about any of my work, including the
Nat Turner
garbage. Basically, though, reviews don’t seem to touch me in the way they used to; good, bad, or indifferently stupid, they just roll off my thickened hide. One piece of recent news is the fact that this year Random House will be bringing out
Nat Turner
in their beautiful new resurrected Modern Library. It’s a superb edition of selected books, all “classics,” and I’m happy to be a member of the club.

I’m also pleased to hear about your book, both mine and yours. The U.S. odyssey sounds like it could be enormously entertaining. As for the one on yrs. truly, I hope the tone is properly obsequious and you will treat me with the fawning deference I deserve. Incidentally, are you dealing with
Darkness Visible
? It’s astounding, the ripples that little book continues to create. Enclosed is a recent spin-off. I’ll be here in Rox. until June 1, then the Vineyard. Let me hear from you sometime.

As ever,

Bill

P.S. How is your offspring faring? Robust, I hope.

T
O
E
DWARD
B
UNKER

August 18, 1994 Vineyard Haven, MA

Dear Eddie,

I called you the other day to tell you that (among other things) I looked at
Reservoir Dogs
and I thank you for digging it up for me.
^†qqq
The summer has been so filled with weird social events that I wasn’t able to get to it until now, but I do appreciate you sending it. I agree with you that it isn’t terribly good but it has some remarkable stuff in it and represents, I guess,
a mode of filmmaking in which violence is pretty much taken to the limit. Rose got up and left at the point where the cop was about to be burned up and didn’t come back even when I told her he was saved. I found the whole thing pretty gut-turning, too, but it was worth seeing and I thought you turned in a delightfully Bunkeresque (whatever that means) performance.

It looks as if the Clintons are on their way, which will make the social whirl even more horrendous. Fuentes and Gabriel García Márquez are going to be here and a dinner is planned wherein, I suspect, García Márquez will be pushing Clinton for making peace with Castro. At least, that seems to be the idea at the moment. I look forward to the Clintons’ arrival with mixed fascination and dread. But I will probably take Hillary for a walk on the beach again—she is a good ole woman, as they say down South, and deserves compassion for having taken so much ill-deserved abuse.

The enclosed Modern Library edition of
Nat Turner
proves that I’m some sort of classic. I think it’s a beautiful edition. I can’t remember whether you may have read the introduction or not. Anyway, stay in touch.