Postby mido505 » Fri Jan 15, 2010 12:19 pm
Thanks for the post, Roger, I read that Hitchens piece the other day, without pleasure, but nodding all the way through. We all have our pantheon of individuals who have helped form our personalities, for good or for ill, and Vidal is number 2 or three in my hierarchy. As an isolated gay man starved for intellectual stimulation during my boring college years, Vidal was a revelation. I read him for pleasure and for self-education; I would read a Vidal essay, then go to the works of the person he was writing about. As a young conservative (individualist, libertarian, Randian wing) appalled at the hypocrisy and failure of the Reagan Revolution, I appreciated Vidal's biting, idiosyncratic political commentary, which helped push me towards the left at that time. Like Hitchens, I was annoyed by Vidal's occasional pokes at Israel and the Jews, but it was not enough to get me riled up. And if Vidal's fiction had shown a general slackening off after the publication of EMPIRE in 1987, HOLLYWOOD and THE GOLDEN AGE were still entertaining if lesser works, and PALIMPSEST, his stunning memoir published in 1995 showed that the testy, biting old genius was still capable of being fired up. Then came 9-11, and Vidal unraveled. He's written almost nothing of interest since, and much that is less than interesting, except for the sections in POINT BY POINT NAVIGATION, Vidal's follow-up to PALIMPSEST, dealing with companion Howard Austens's illness and death, which are beautiful, moving, and emotional in a way that I've never seen before in Vidal's writing, except where he deals with boyhood love Jimmy Trimble.
Since 9-11, my politics have moved back to the right, and Vidal has moved...somewhere unclassifiable and unseemly. But it is not the politics that have turned me off my esteemed virtual mentor - it's the mean-spiritedness, and the lack of insight, and the hysteria, and the bitterness. He's like a left-wing Bircher now, if that's possible, and that is not a good place to be. I don't expect an aging Vidal to turn all warm and fuzzy, but can't he be a little more grateful for a life lived exactly as he wished it to be? Vidal always described himself as a cynic, but a true cynic would be placid in his dotage, secure in his knowledge that a debased humanity can never disappoint. But as the touching story of Vidal and Jimmy Trimble shows, Vidal was always a closet romantic. He created that biting, cold-as-ice persona, as a protective armor, but the armor has ended up smothering and killing what was best in him, the source of his huge talent. Orson Welles may have had problems with his self-created persona, but thank God that never happened...