James Franco, Howl, Allen Ginsberg, Dianne Lane, John Malkovich, Secretariat. Really. Does it get any better?
I have an Allen Ginsberg story. Two actually. One good. One bad.
Good. I found myself standing next to him at a book festival in SF back in the late 80's. We were standing on the curb outside of some conference center and it was the return of Furthur and a prankster trip across the U.S. to donate the bus to the Smithsonian. And there we were next to each other and he glanced at me and smiled.
Or maybe it wasn't him.
Maybe he was the cranky old man I met years later at a bookstore signing. Gosh. I can't remember how many years ago it's been. But I went to his book signing. The very last book signing I went to until last year when I asked Edward Albee to sign my collection of his plays. Because the Ginsberg signing was, oh. So. Compromising. Terrible. Never again.
I bought a book of his poems. And there were very few people who actually turned out for this signing. So he was just sitting at table in the big empty area of one of my favorite book stores (which is no longer). And I went up to get my book signed. And he ignored me. And kept talking to this youngish looking guy, and yeah I get it, I understand. And he kept ignoring me until one of the store clerks pointed me out and then he turned and not once did he look at me or acknowledge me in any way. Signed the book and pushed it towards me. And I said:
You know what? I think I'll pass.
And yes. He looked up then.
And I turned and walked away.
When I think about the authors I've not seen - like David Foster Wallace - because I refused to feel that suck up feeling for an author ever again. Geesh.
But I love Howl and that young, beautiful Ginsberg.
5 comments:
Most authors I've met have been amazingly gracious and even amazed that someone recognizes them, let alone has actually read them and wants their autograph.
True, there are cranks out there. And then there's the arrogant ones
But even the most suspicious were pretty darn happy to be celebrated in even the simplest ways.
Still. Ginsberg was in a class all by himself. A celebrity and a hipster and a poseur.
Bummer he was so ungrateful.
I used to go to readings and signings all the time. But the Ginsberg did it for me.
The best book signing ever though was one for Harlan Ellison. Actually in the same bookstore. There was even a heckler and Ellison responded so beautifully and humorously to him. He was so delightful and exciting to listen to. I've always wanted to do an exercise that he talked about doing.
He used to sit in a storefront and write. Then he'd put what he'd written up on the window fresh out of the typewriter. It would be tricky to do these days, but I think a roomful of playwrights (the proverbial typing monkeys) and a few printers and maybe a few actors to read or something could be pretty exciting. Probably already been done.
I love that. We should try to do that.
Malachy:
Maybe we should meet?
Of maybe we should just plan this event and show up.
It would be a great thing to do in November as part of National Playwrighting Month - NAPLWRIMO. I've recently become the program director/AD of the event and would love it if you would get involved. Write a play with us. You can find us on FB or you can click on the rhino link in the sidebar. At any rate, I tried to find an email address for you and couldn't. Should I go through FB?
We should meet.
It's way past time.
On committing to much else will be tough. I'm over committed as it is and, while I know it sounds cagey, I just have trouble even dragging myself to the computer to work on commissions that are overdue.
But we should meet.
I think you have my email? It's readily available on the net, so here it is again: malachy14@yahoo.com
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