I really liked this book, until I got to the end, and then I spent a few days struggling with why I was so disappointed. This book is a wonderfully written, juicy romp through the New York City of the post-war years, featuring Truman Capote and all the incredibly rich socialites he made his social circle. In particular, Babe Paley (wife of Bill Paley, head of CBS, whom I recognized from the Paley Center name). There is a lot of great gossip, a lot of scandal, some betrayal, some dark secrets, and the inevitable moment (foreshadowed in the opening) when Truman turns all of this into a book, and his "swans" turn on him.
I really struggled to articulate why I was frustrated that at the end, the author discusses how, while the events are real, all the conversations are fictional. I love historical fiction; my favorite author, Dorothy Dunnett, fictionalizes all the people in the Lymond Chronicles and makes up conversations between them, and I don't feel let down like this. I thought for a while it was because of the weirdness of making up thoughts and feelings for people who were alive in the 70s, but I don't think that's it, either.
I think my frustration with the book comes from the fact that while the events are real (the black and white ball, Babe's will, Ann's death) those aren't the plot of the book. The imagined conversations between Babe and Truman, their emotional connection, their trust in each other, are the main plot of the book, and that's the part that's made up. Everything that makes the characters interesting, unless you have a previous interest in Truman Capote (and I realized that David Sedaris was narrating his parts in my head), is made up. I'm sure it's well-researched, but I came out of it wishing it had just been a non-fiction book. Yes, it's my fault for missing "a novel" in the title. But I would much rather read a super juicy non-fiction version of this story without all the imagined deep dark secrets.
Grade: C
#72 in 2016
No comments:
Post a Comment