Love—T.
[Collection University of Delaware Library]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[Postcard] [New York]
[28 January 1978]
Dear Jack and Mags—
I [unclear] you a postcard but forgot to put stamps on it. So am sending another. I feel good and am behaving myself perfectly. Off to Martinique tomorrow taking as my only reading a one-volume complete Simone Weil. She better be as good as you say! Hugs to both, I love you—T.
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[In flight] to Martinique
Jan 29 1978
Up in the air
Dearheart—
Couldn’t sleep last night, so reread some of your letters. So sad about Moret. What a story. It’s like Simenon.
Don’t worry: I am taking antabuse40 faithfully, going to Gym, seeing Dr. Potter (I am going to have to either see less of him or get him to reduce his fees: very expensive.) I feel so clear and optimistic. Just keep those candles burning for me.
I had dinner with Gerald Clarke; why don’t you drop him a line—when I asked if he had heard from you, he said, rather wistfully, no.
The new work on the apt. goes slowly—they are taking up all the carpets Feb 15. Once the floors are polished, I will see more clearly how to go.
No news from the coast, except O’Shea now says he has spent all the money and cannot repay any of the money. He is back drinking, and calls friends of mine at four or five in the morning and [unclear] them, saying if only I would suddenly drop dead all his problems would be solved! Oh well, the hell with all that.
P.S. I hope I can get a real rest in Martinique; this has been a high pressure winter. I miss you. Kiss Mags. Darling Jack, you are the great love of my life. You are my life.
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO LEO LERMAN
[Postcard] [Schoelcher, Martinique]
3 Feb 1978
Dearest Myrt—
The piece I am doing is going to be very good. It’s called Music For Chameleons: A Winter Visit to Martinique.41 Am fine and thin and brown and healthy. Love to Gray. You, too
Marge
[Collection Columbia University Library]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[Postcard] [Martinique, West Indies]
3 Feb 1978
Are you interested in a Capote original? This is me writing under a palm tree.42 There is a fabulous non-alcoholic drink here called UN CARESSE. Some people put rum in it. But not me. Love to Mags. A big hug
T
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO MAGGIE
[Postcard] [Martinique, West Indies]
[9 February 1978]
Darling Mags
There are lots of dogs here but you wouldn’t like them—they are poor, scruffy things. Miss you—Love—
T.
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[Postcard] [Center City, Minn.]
2 Aug. 1978
Dearest Jack
Having wonderful time. Wish you were here. No. I wouldn’t wish that on my best friend, which you are.43 Love to Mags. Hugs—
T.
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[The Sea View]
[9909 Collins Avenue]
[Bal Harbour, Miami Beach, Fla. 33154]
20 January 1979
Darling Jack—
Have been here for five days, hoping for a little sun; alas, it has been mostly clouds and rain, and I am returning demain.
Notice the envelope: ‘the Ability to write—a Root of Democracy.’44 I got these stamps just for you. Show them to Camille: Americans are civilized.45
Rain or no, I have done a lot of swimming, am soberer than ever (you will be pleased to hear) and have got some writing done.
Hope you got my cable saying your Rose des Vents check had been covered. I don’t see how we could owe them that much money. What is the maintenance there per month?46 Get to the bottom of this.
I went to the bank and talked to your banker. I liked him—sort of a tough Mr. Milquetoast. And he adores you. Showed me the letter you had written him, chuckling—as though to say: “That Jack what a character!”
Well, I see Social Security is going to give you $199 a month spending money. At least that will keep you in cigarette money, especially since you don’t smoke.
I hope you are okay, and Maggie too. My new dentist broke his leg skiing. I love you and miss you, darling one. Forever.
T.
P.S. The picture is of me jumping on a trampoline here; so you can see I’m in good shape.
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO ALAN ROSS47
[Palace Hotel]
[Madrid, Spain]
as from—
870 U.N. Plaza
New York, N.Y.
29 March 1979
Alan Ross, Esq.
Editor
The London Magazine
Dear Mr. Ross—
Apparrently [sic] a letter I wrote you in late August, 1978, never reached you. It concerned the article by Dotson Rader about the book “Tennessee Williams’ Letters To Donald Windham.” It concerned certain remarks attributed to me by Mr. Rader; remarks I never made, specifically an allegation that Mr. Williams was “furious” because Mr. Windham had published his letters without his consent or knowledge.
The rest of the letter concerned Mr. Rader’s general estimate of Mr. Windham’s rating, both as a writer and as a man, which he set at a low level—when, in fact, the opposite is true.48 Mr. Windham is exceedingly well regarded as a writer and, generally speaking, is well known as a man of integrity.
Sincerely
Truman Capote
[Collection Beinecke Library, Yale University]
TO SANDY CAMPBELL
29 March 1979
Palace Hotel
Madrid, Spain
Dear Sandy—
You say that I have “lost two ‘more’ friends,” namely you and Don. If true, I am more sad than I can say. However, in Don’s case, I think Don’s [sic] should speak for himself. If he chooses to relinquish a friendship of thirty years, one which I have cherished (as, indeed, I have yours), then I think I at least deserve to be told so directly.
After recovering from the initial astonishment, and subsequent anger, inspired by your telephone call (the injustice of it, at any rate what I felt, rightly or otherwise, to be the unjustness of it), I have recovered enough to try and understand it from your point of view. Lawsuits are an expensive and claustrophobic experience (as I well know, having gone through four of them, two still pending); one does lose perspective, become myopic. Still, I am puzzled; I cannot imagine what I have done to disturb you. I did write a letter to The London Magazine—whether you accept that or not (and did so when I was in treatment at Hazleden [Hazelden], and not in a condition to write a dying grandmother). As for Alan Schwartz,49 neither you or Alan have asked me to write any kind of letter or provide any sort of affadavit [sic].
During our conversation, you threatened, among several threats, to “brand” me as “a liar”. At the time, my first thought was: “Well, you’ve already done that, and in the most public manner possible, in the comments attributed to you in The New York Times Magazine articles last July.” I did not comment to you about this, nor did I do so to anyone else (though God knows everyone else mentioned it—I’m referring to the story about Oliver Smith’s house etc.).50 Indeed, I should refrain from mentioning it now; still, some human need provokes me to do so.
The same sort of need, I suspect, that provoked you to call and reprimand me. Gerald Clarke casually remarked to me that Don was under the impression that I was talking to and seeing a great deal of [Dotson] Rader and T. Williams. It is true that I have spoken four or five times with Rader on the phone, but the lawsuit was mentioned on only one of those occasions, and then only in the most peripheral manner. Williams I have seen just once—at a small dinner party where we spoke very briefly, and not at all about you.
Sandy, I very much hope that we will again be the friends we were; if not, I want to thank you for your past generosity—I will never forget the great kindness of you and Don, especially during my long illness.
And this is sent to you both with love, an affection enduringly real and true, from
Truman
P.S. I do not have a typewriter with me, or the address of The London Magazine—so will you please see that the enclosed reaches Mr. Ross?
[Collection Beinecke Library, Yale University]
TO JACK DUNPHY
[New York]
15 Feb 1980
Dearest Jack
I will not bore you with the agonies of the voyage. No matter—it was pure joy to see you and Maggie. You are both so beautiful!
I love you, Jack. Hurry home, and bring me a big hug—
T
[Collection Gerald Clarke]
TO READERS OF INTERVIEW MAGAZINE51
[April 1980]
Dear Friends,
I hope you enjoyed my December contribution (“Handcarved Coffins”), and will be pleased to hear that it was bought by the movies for a lot of money. Otherwise, all has been a disaster. I went to Switzerland and was run over by a drunken skier weighing more than 250 pounds. It’s a wonder that I escaped with only a sprained wrist, sprained back, and a head concussion. So off I flew to California to recuperate, only to arrive during the infamous storms and floods of February. The house of my hostess was in danger of sliding off a cliff.52 Several rooms were filled with mud. Still, the house survived—and so did I, more or less.
Actually, what I wanted to say is that my appearances in Interview will be irregular for a while because I am at long last finishing “Answered Prayers.” However, I am preparing a surprise for the September issue: a very long piece, very: a sort of homemade bomb.53 Meanwhile, all the best,
T.C.
P.S. In September I am publishing a book that contains many of my Interview pieces. The book is called “Music for Chameleons.”
P.P.S. One thing more. Do any of you remember “A Day’s Work”?—It was about Mary Sanchez, my cleaning lady, and the day I spent accompanying her while she cleaned various apartments.54 Anyway, that too is going to be a movie.55 But we are having a hard time finding the right person to play Mary. Ethel Waters, when she was fifty,
