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About Alice by Calvin Trillin, Random House 2006 I find myself gravitating to memoir collections of late – prompted no doubt by my own current interest in the genre. But in this case it was Trillin himself, in an interview on the Diane Rehm show, who crooked his writing finger and invited me along with other readers and listeners to fall in love with Alice just as he did when he saw her across a crowded party in 1963. She was wearing a hat Trillin said, “a white hat, cocked a bit to the side. Her cheeks were slightly flushed. And had blond hair, worn straight in those days, and a brow just a shade darker than her hair.”(12) He only spoke briefly with her that night, but pursued her two weeks later at another party. He’s a bit embarrassed to say he thinks once he struck up a conversation with her he “hardly shut up.” Years later Alice would say that he had never again been as funny that night. But Trillin never stopped trying to match that performance. Or as he puts it, never stopped trying to impress her. Trillin is one of the lucky ones – love struck all his married life. Now, five years after Alice’s death, he offers her (and us) his slender, tender tribute to her. When I finished reading the book (it can be read in one sitting), I handed it to my husband who happened to be lying next to me in a lounge chair. (We were on vacation.) I handed it to him in part because About Alice is a fine read. Trillin – long a contributor to the New Yorker – is a silky writer. His words are fluent and flowing with just the right mix of humor and aptness. But I also know I was hoping that one day, should I die before him, he might speak of me as lovingly of me. Two hours later, damp-eyed, he handed the book back and just nodded. I took that to mean he understood. For the interview with Diane Rehm mentioned above see http://wamu.org/programs/dr/07/#Dec - and archives for January 11, 2007. <back to list |
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