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Havanas in Camelot: Personal Essays
After the great success in 1990 of Darkness Visible, his memoir of depression and recovery, William Styron wrote more frequently in an introspective, autobiographical mode. Havanas in Camelot brings together fourteen of his personal essays, including a reminiscence of his brief friendship with John F. Kennedy; memoirs of Truman Capote, James Baldwin, and Terry Southern; a meditation on Mark Twain; an account of Styron’s daily walks with his dog; and an evocation of his summer home on Martha’s Vineyard. These essays, which reveal a reflective and humorous side of Styron’s nature, make possible a fuller assessment of this enigmatic man of American letters.
About the Author
William Styron (1925-2006) , a native of the Virginia Tidewater, was a graduate of Duke University and a veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps. His books include Lie Down in Darkness, The Long March, Set This House on Fire, The Confessions of Nat Turner, Sophie’s Choice, This Quiet Dust, Darkness Visible, and A Tidewater Morning. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, the Howells Medal, the American Book Award, the Légion d’Honneur, and the Witness to Justice Award from the Auschwitz Jewish Center Foundation. With his wife, the poet and activist Rose Styron, he lived for most of his adult life in Roxbury, Connecticut, and in Vineyard Haven, Massachusetts, where he is buried.
Praise for Havanas in Camelot: Personal Essays…
“Styron exhales in these essays, displaying an ease that conveys even more intensely the fire within.”—Boston Globe
“Each of Styron’s fourteen pieces is a gem.”—Newsweek
“The graceful results of one man’s struggle to describe in the most perfect possible words the geography of the human heart.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer
“A poignant reminder of the power and appeal of a voice now silent.”—Kirkus Reviews, starred review
“The empathetic and keenly observed recollections of a grand old man of letters looking back with fondness on a life rich with incident . . . a gently rolling memory loop from a man who was generous in his praise and exacting in his art.”—Los Angeles Times Book Review