Someone Left the Cake out in the Rain, and it wasn’t Norman Mailer
In the name of research, I came across the literary hits of 1970 and 1971. Many of you already suspect that my ‘research’ was nothing more than tomfoolery, something Sister Philomena cautioned against before applying God’s justice to your correspondent’s beleagured knuckles. To stand in classroom corners beneath a portrait of His Holiness left an indelible impression. I still believe that on Judgment Day flights of angels will descend from atop the Chrysler Building, armed with wooden rulers. God will emerge from a cloud of chalk dust, bearing a strong resemblance to President Eisenhower. Fortunately I know how to duck and cover.
Back to the subject. Some big hitters rolled out books in 1970. The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison, Deliverance by James Dickey, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. by Maya Angelou. Almost singlehandedly Eric Segal tips the scales with Love Story, a book that paved the way for the movie of the same name. Al Camus’ A Happy Death never made it to the silver screen, possibly because Ryan O’Neal was busy. Bertrand Russell, John Dos Passos, John O’Hara and EM Forster died that year, and Robert Heinlein suffered a stroke. Maybe they’d all read Love Story.
Ursula Le Guin captured the Hugo for Left Hand of Darkness, and Jim Bouton, a righthander, published Ball Four.. The films MASH and Catch-22 were released. Why did I bring all of this up? I’m just tracing the collapse of our culture. Sure, Love Story undermines my case for cultural chartism, but the movie was the real culprit as it left many viewers wondering if Ali McGraw had a pulse. That she dies at the end of the movie, her character dies, is a tribute to Ryan O’Neal’s remarkable ability to raise his eyebrows when the emotional shit approaches the Pavlovian fan.
Next class we’ll examine the meaning of Jonathan Livingston Seagull. Little Norman will punch Gore Vidal and have to stand in the corner. Fireworks!