{"product_id":"selected-letters-of-norman-mailer-isbn-9780812986105","title":"Selected Letters of Norman Mailer","description":"\u003cb\u003eA genuine literary event—an illuminating collection of correspondence from one of the most acclaimed American writers of all time\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eOver the course of a nearly sixty-year career, Norman Mailer wrote more than 30 novels, essay collections, and nonfiction books. Yet nowhere was he more prolific—or more exposed—than in his letters. All told, Mailer crafted more than 45,000 pieces of correspondence (approximately 20 million words), many of them deeply personal, keeping a copy of almost every one. Now the best of these are published—most for the first time—in one remarkable volume that spans seven decades and, it seems, several lifetimes. Together they form a stunning autobiographical portrait of one of the most original, provocative, and outspoken public intellectuals of the twentieth century.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Compiled by Mailer’s authorized biographer, J. Michael Lennon, and organized by decade, \u003ci\u003eSelected Letters of Norman Mailer\u003c\/i\u003e features the most fascinating of Mailer’s missives from 1940 to 2007—letters to his family and friends, to fans and fellow writers (including Truman Capote, James Baldwin, and Philip Roth), to political figures from Henry Kissinger to Bill and Hillary Clinton, and to such cultural icons as John Lennon, Marlon Brando, and even Monica Lewinsky.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Here is Mailer the precocious Harvard undergraduate, writing home to his parents for the first time and worrying that his acceptances by literary magazines were “all happening too easy.” Here, too, is Mailer the soldier, confronting the violence of war in the Pacific, which would become the subject of his masterly debut novel, \u003ci\u003eThe Naked and the Dead\u003c\/i\u003e: “[I’m] amazed how casually it fits into . . . daily life, how very unhorrible it all is.” Mailer the international celebrity pledges to William Styron, “I’m going to write every day, and like Lot’s Wife I’m consigning myself to a pillar of salt if I dare to look back,” while the 1980s Mailer agonizes over the fallout from his ill-fated friendship with Jack Henry Abbott, the murderer who became his literary protégé. (“The continuation of our relationship was depressing for both of us,” he confesses to Joyce Carol Oates.) At last, he finds domestic—and erotic—bliss in the arms of his sixth wife, Norris Church (“We bounce into each other like sunlight”).\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Whether he is reflecting on the Kennedy assassination, assessing the merits of authors from Fitzgerald to Proust, or threatening to pummel William Styron, the brilliant, pugnacious Norman Mailer comes alive again in these letters. The myriad faces of this artist and activist, lover and fighter, public figure and private man, are laid bare in this collection as never before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eSelected Letters of Norman Mailer\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Extraordinary.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eVanity Fair\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“As massive as the life they document . . . the autobiography [Mailer] never wrote . . . a kind of map, from the hills and rice paddies of the Philippines through every victory and defeat for the rest of the century and beyond.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEsquire\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The shards and winks at Mailer’s own past that are scattered throughout the letters . . . are so tantalizing. They glitter throughout like unrefined jewels that Mailer took to the grave.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New Yorker\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Indispensable . . . a subtle document of an unsubtle man’s wit and erudition, even (or especially) when it’s wielded as a weapon.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Umpteen pleasures to pluck out and roll between your teeth, like seeds from a pomegranate.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Extraordinary.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eVanity Fair\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“As massive as the life they document . . . In reading Mailer’s correspondence as the autobiography he never wrote, these [letters] provide a kind of map, from the hills and rice paddies of the Philippines through every victory and defeat for the rest of the century and beyond.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEsquire\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “The shards and winks at Mailer’s own past that are scattered throughout the letters—the stories of friendships and of family, of his identity-forming relationship with his mother and his ‘Victorian childhood’ surrounded by loving women, of his street-corner adolescence and his erotic and literary awakening . . . are so tantalizing. They glitter throughout like unrefined jewels that Mailer took to the grave.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New Yorker\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “[\u003ci\u003eSelected Letters of Norman Mailer\u003c\/i\u003e has] umpteen pleasures to pluck out and roll between your teeth, like seeds from a pomegranate.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Indispensable . . . a subtle document of an unsubtle man’s wit and erudition, even (or especially) when it’s wielded as a weapon.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eNew York\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e“A thrilling and revealing collection of correspondence . . . With their unguarded directness, the letters allow us access to [Mailer’s] naked thought. . . . providing the asides and stage whispers that shape the life and career into a compelling theatre of the creative self.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Guardian \u003c\/i\u003e(U.K.)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mailer’s correspondence offers an intimate look at the author in all his variety: filial, pugnacious, collegial, spiteful, affectionate, defiant and generous by turn.”\u003cb\u003e—BBC\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “[A] meticulously edited collection of letters . . . It’s hard to imagine any American novelist today living as large, varied, and morally complex a life as Mailer’s. And among the emotions these letters may evoke in readers is nostalgia for a time when an American writer could imagine—somewhat innocently perhaps—that his words were an essential part of the national conversation.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Daily Beast\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “[Norman Mailer] contained multitudes. . . . The preponderant majority of letters here are by the private Mailer who could be remarkably tender, courtly, generous, sensitive, eloquent and brilliant and, for good measure, equally block-headed, arrogant, naive and blinded by self-delusion. . . . It’s what makes this, far and away, the most important and compelling book by or about Norman Mailer in decades.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Buffalo News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Norman Mailer lived large. So it’s no surprise his correspondents included just about everyone who was anyone in twentieth-century America, and why \u003ci\u003eSelected Letters of Norman Mailer\u003c\/i\u003e is such a scintillating read.”\u003cb\u003e—WBUR\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mailer’s ambition to be the greatest writer of his generation is made clear in his stylish, sophisticated letters. . . . A list of Mailer’s correspondents reads like a guide to twentieth-century history and literature. . . . [Michael J.] Lennon proves an ideal guide, expertly assembling a tidal wave of letters into a tidy, chronological selection. In the end, Mailer’s letters stand as the best autobiography available for such a complicated and extraordinary life.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e (starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Offers the fascinating complexities of a deeply intelligent individual.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An intriguing look at a particularly influential life of letters and a treat for Mailer fans.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Mailer’s letters reinforce the idea that Mailer \u003ci\u003ehimself\u003c\/i\u003e was his most complex creation: the blithely gargantuan demands of his imagination shaped his life was well as his fiction and journalism.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Arts Fuse\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003eBorn in 1923 in Long Branch, New Jersey, and raised in Brooklyn, New York, \u003cb\u003eNorman Mailer\u003c\/b\u003e was one of the most influential writers of the second half of the twentieth century and a leading public intellectual for nearly sixty years. He is the author of more than thirty books. \u003ci\u003eThe Castle in the Forest,\u003c\/i\u003e his last novel, was his eleventh \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestseller. His first novel, \u003ci\u003eThe Naked and the Dead, \u003c\/i\u003ehas never gone out of print. His 1968 nonfiction narrative, \u003ci\u003eThe Armies of the Night,\u003c\/i\u003e won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. He won a second Pulitzer for \u003ci\u003eThe Executioner’s Song\u003c\/i\u003e and is the only person to date to have won Pulitzers in both fiction and nonfiction. Five of his books were nominated for National Book Awards, and he won a lifetime achievement award from the National Book Foundation in 2005. Norman Mailer died in 2007 in New York City.\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003eJ. Michael Lennon\u003c\/b\u003e is Norman Mailer’s archivist and authorized biographer, and Emeritus Vice President for Academic Affairs and Emeritus Professor of English at Wilkes University, in Pennsylvania. In addition to being chair of the editorial board of \u003ci\u003eThe Mailer Review, \u003c\/i\u003ehe has written or edited several books about and with Mailer, including \u003ci\u003eNorman Mailer: A Double Life, Norman Mailer: Works and Days, \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e On God: An Uncommon Conversation\u003c\/i\u003e. His work has appeared in \u003ci\u003eThe New Yorker, The Paris Review, \u003c\/i\u003eand\u003ci\u003e New York, \u003c\/i\u003eamong others. He lives in Westport, Massachusetts.1940s\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman Kingsley Mailer, born in 1923 to immigrant parents, had written a fair amount of juvenilia, mainly adventure stories, from the ages of eight to twelve, then nothing more until he arrived at Harvard in September 1939. In each of his four college years, he signed up for elective writing courses, and he wrote, all told, approximately thirty short stories. He published three of these in the Harvard Advocate, and one of them, “The Greatest Thing in the World,” won a national college contest sponsored by Story Magazine, where it appeared in November 1941. A few months earlier, he had completed the manuscript of his first novel, “No Percentage.” Set in two places he knew well, Brooklyn and the Jersey Shore, the novel (still unpublished) ends with a hitchhiking trip to North Carolina, one that Mailer made in the summer of 1941. Just after the Pearl Harbor attack, he met Beatrice Silverman, a student at Boston University, who later became his first wife. In the summer of 1942, he worked for a week as an orderly at Boston Mental Hospital and wrote a play, titled “The Naked and the Dead,” about the sadistic treatment of the inmates. It has never been performed, but it created a lifelong interest in drama. In his senior year, he began another novel, A Transit to Narcissus (published in 1978), also inspired by his experience as an orderly, which he finished shortly before his March 1944 induction into the army. While he was in the service, a combat novella he wrote at Harvard, “A Calculus at Heaven,” was published in an anthology, but his most important work of the 1940s was The Naked and the Dead, which he wrote after his discharge in May 1946. Based on his experience during the Luzon campaign of early 1945, in the Philippines, the novel was critically acclaimed and became an immediate bestseller after its publication in May 1948. Slabs of it were taken wholesale from the hundreds of letters he wrote to Beatrice while overseas.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e1. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGrays Hall 11-­12, Harvard College\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFebruary 18, 1940\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m quite the busy boy now with tryouts for the Advocate \u0026amp; Red Book. I’ve dropped the Lampoon because 1) I can’t write humorously, 2) there is a $100 initiation fee. All of which brings me to the Advocate. I tried out last Friday and had a nice time, you know free beer, etc. For the Advocate you have to submit 3 pieces worthy of publication although not necessarily published for lack of space. You also have to sell 10 subscriptions and pay an initiation fee of $40.00. Now the Advocate is like a club, and has many fellows worth meeting. (One of them is Bruce Barton Jr., representative’s son.) If you think I should or should not go on with it let me know. It means spending at least $50—­subscriptions bought personally—­of which $40 would only be spent after getting in so the money would not be risked. If you feel it is not worth it from a money standpoint let me know immediately. (Let me know immediately, too if you think it is worth it.) Naturally it is up to you, and do as you see right. Of course it’s not a matter of buying your way in since you have to be good to be accepted \u0026amp; it is quite an honor. However if I know I can’t make it because the initiation fee is too high, I don’t want to put in any work on it. If you don’t understand fully what I’m talking about write your answer anyway with the necessary reservations. I’ll know what to do since of course I know just what the odds are.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNothing much else right now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLots of love,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.S. I’m sorry. The Advocate is the literary magazine.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.P.S. Tell Babby to keep up the good work.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.P.P.S. Hope the cold spell helps the [heating oil] business.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.P.P.P.S. Was happy to hear about your anniversary party. Cake hasn’t come yet, but I’ll thank Aunt Nan for it anyway. Don’t undeceive her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.P.P.P.P.S. Fill in the financial blanks for the scholarship soon. I don’t want to delay forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.P.P.P.P.P.S. If it means a sacrifice to you to pay the Advocate fee, you can tell me right now. Promise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.8. Might send the enclosed picture to S[outh] A[frica] as a twin to Uncle Alex. Fellow’s name is Waterous.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e2. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eClaverly Hall, Harvard College\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMarch 16, 1941\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSorry you thought I felt depressed about Physics. Futile is a better word. I studied a lot, for the test, and knew my stuff. I just can’t understand it. The rest is good news ↓.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI got a 100 in a Statics test last Tuesday. I handed in both scholarship \u0026amp; T.S.E. (job) blanks. (You have nothing to fill out for the Temporary Student Employment stuff.) I just finished a 3500 word story yesterday. Everybody has been enthusiastic about the long thing. The Advocate liked it immensely and said the “suspense was terrific.” I’ve got two stories accepted, and should get a third one too. (They won’t be published, you realize.) I happen to know, though, that they’re a bunch of snobs, and Brooklyn may go against me. Before I take out a subscription for you, I’m going to have a show-­down with them. Don’t worry, I won’t jeopardize my chances.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI haven’t heard whether Aunt Nan is coming up yet. At present I’ll leave somewhere between Wednesday and Friday of week after next. I’m anxious to get home already.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[postscript on envelope] Mom: Will you try and get me two $1.10 tickets to Fantasia. Any night during vacation will do. But try early; understand it’s difficult to get seats.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e3. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epostcard, April 9, 1941\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAdvocate initiation tonight. My play.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDefinitely are going to print my story [“The Greatest Thing in the World”]. Magazine supposed to come out next week, but this is uncertain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWill be unable to write again until Sunday. Have Physics exam Tues. so may not be able to make it a letter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorm\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e4. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eApril 13, 1941\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAm writing a letter to enclose the term bill.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rest is good news.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMagazine with my story comes out next week some time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy story may be the first one, and if it is, it will be the first time in several years that a debut has led off in the Advocate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGot an A in Physics for my April Hour Grade. Only mark I got.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStory magazine runs an annual spring contest for college men’s short stories. Each college selects a story or two \u0026amp; sends it on to Story where the best one is awarded a prize and published. Out of 45 contributors at Harvard my big story was sent on with another fellow’s to the big judging. My chances of winning are of course slight, but I still feel good at winning the Harvard part.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Robert Gorham] Davis liked my negro-­shower room story very much and wants me to send it on to New Yorker.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIt’s all happening too easy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlso, I’ve now written the first 8,000 words of my novelette which has consumed 39 typewriter sheets with hand-­writing. I wrote 2000 Friday night, 5000 Saturday, and 1000 in the last hour. That’s all for a few days though for I’ve got a Physics test Tues.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Advocate initiation was fun. It’s a long story \u0026amp; I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I’m enclosing a playbill. Don’t worry about the bill; they’ll be only too glad to send it to you.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eP.S. My back is o.k. So is my cough.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e5. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[postcard, mid-­May, 1941]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWill borrow a tux.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t worry about my drinking. I was kidding you a little.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNo account of [Advocate] dinner in papers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI got a letter from a Mr. Theodore S. Amussen, assistant editor in the firm of Farrar, Rinehart, Publishers. He said that Roy Larsen who was at [Advocate] dinner “was very much impressed” with my story. Amussen on his suggestion read it “and liked it very much indeed.” He asked me to send him any copy of a novel I may write because he “would be greatly interested in seeing more material” of mine. He can’t use short stories.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWill send the letter next week.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e6. To Fanny Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eScarboro Hotel, West End, New Jersey\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[late July 1941]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Mom,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday, but I think Barbara explained.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve written 14,000 words in the last two nights, and I intend to work through Thursday night till I finish sometime Friday morning. I’ll get a good night’s sleep Friday night, and when you see me Saturday, I’ll be all dimples and crinkles, instead of wrinkles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePlease don’t worry about me overworking, because I love it, and really feel very content and happy. The writing is going great guns, and I think the second part will be at least as good as the first. The third part will be excellent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m getting a hair-­cut this afternoon and I’ll look beautiful of course.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI haven’t heard anything, but I do hope you’re feeling much better. Ask Dad to drop us a line if he can, to tell us how you feel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOh, all my love honey,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e7. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDunster Hall, G-52, Harvard College\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFebruary 8, 1942\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI have a fair amount of news, and hope to make this a little longer than usual.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFirst I got an answer from Story. I’m sending it on to you, but you must send me a copy back immediately. I’m going to write Mr. [Whit] Burnett and ask him if he wants me to see him before Easter. From the letter, I know he won’t want to publish the book, but I’d like to talk to him about some short stories.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThanks for the shirts Mom.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHave you given Osie [Radin] the story? I wish whoever has it would send it on to me (the subway thing) because I want to rewrite it, and I can’t do it unless I have it. If Osie hasn’t read it yet, please show it to her. What’s the story there?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe Phil exam was ferocious. I thought I knew my stuff before, but had to change my mind afterward. This seems to be the reaction with everybody that took the test.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen are [you] sending up my paintings. (prints.)\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf it is possible to send me the license plate by this coming Friday, I would appreciate it as [Martin] Lubin and I have a big date fixed up. If it can’t be done let me know anyway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’m out of postcards, and I don’t have time to write to Aunt Nan, so would you please give her my excuses, and so forth.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDon’t think of myself as nineteen yet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThought Babbie’s stuff was swell. Wrote her a letter about it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat did you think of my long story? You sounded unpleasantly silent on that score.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI love you all,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[Postscript on envelope] Due to rise in food prices, they are going to give us less food (smaller meals) for the same money. Therefore, don’t feel backward about sending me edibles.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e8. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e[early April 1942]\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAm out of envelopes, so am using this paper to fit into a haphazard envelope.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStories came. Was a marvelous typing job with only 2 mistakes in ten pages. Wonderful, Ma.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe other story is in good shape, \u0026amp; there’d be no reason for you to slave thru another copy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve got bad news now, I’m afraid. The story about the printers was false, and spread by John Crockett. He had gone up to Vermont (where the printers are) during Easter vacation, and made up the magazine there. Since he hates me after a fight we had in [a] meeting, I doubt very much if the Negro story will be in this issue. I don’t know, but I doubt it. [Bruce] Barton was furious, \u0026amp; had taken away most of Crockett’s duties. I don’t know however what can be done about my story now. Almost certainly, it will be printed in the next issue.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTest in English this Friday. Have Barbara write, and you might try reading the Freud, folks. Thanks for the good criticisms, folks, \u0026amp; have Babbie write what she thinks.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e9. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eApril 12, 1942\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere were a few people here during the week. I worked very hard, \u0026amp; only one notable story (rest trash) came out of it, but this story is the best I’ve ever written, I’m convinced. I’ll send it to you for typing as soon as I finish polishing it off.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYour idea, Mother, about a Utopia novel is very good honey, but there have been probably thirty or forty good novels about a Utopia already. Keep pitching, hon; it shows you have good ideas anyway.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePlease send a check for this coming week’s allowance. I’ve worked it out with you on the finance end.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe enclosed letter is not to be shown to Barbara until her books come. As soon as she opens them, slip her the letter. I’m afraid they may not come till Tuesday, because I didn’t get the books till Friday night, \u0026amp; they were being sent parcel-­post.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWent up to the hygiene building. As I told you, it’s nothing. Doctor said it was just fibrous tissue or a benign cyst \u0026amp; would be with me the rest of my life without any danger.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGot a scholarship blank out. Since I am unsure of the blank spaces, I wish Dad would fill it in, in very light pencil. Am sending it separately.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Maybe Next Year” was rejected by the New Yorker. John Mosher, the movie critic, wrote the rejection slip. Here it is: “I don’t think [it’s] just the thing for us—­not entirely clear as it shifts from one mind’s attitude to another—­a complex ‘stream-­of-­consciousness’ effect which isn’t entirely successful—­nor is much clear story or situation given.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTell Osie that John Mosher wrote the rejection slip. That means a lot since most stories only get a printed slip.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLove,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNorman\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDunno what happened with Story magazine yet. Can’t find any of the stories around.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e10. To Fanny and I. B. Mailer\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBoston, Massachusetts\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003epostcard, June 5, 1942\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDear Folks,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHave no envelopes. Hence this. My exams are over, \u0026amp; I got a C for the term in Engineering which is the only mark I know.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI got a job at the Boston State Hosp. for $15 per \u0026amp; room and board. Start work June 12. You mustn’t worry Mother, because the inmates are not dangerous. The whole place looks like a college campus, open \u0026amp; sunny, and the inmates are mainly only shell-­shocked veterans.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI can’t get home because my play needs some rewriting for the Harvard Dramatic Soc. \u0026amp; I have to work hand in glove with the director. When I make the changes there’s a chance the play’ll be put on. Since I need a rough copy, I wish, Mother that you’d send me the second draft that you used to type out the copies from.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlso, Mother, I need about $10. Our board has stopped since the 31st, and it costs a $1.50 a day to eat decently now. I won’t be able to go another week unless you send the $10. You and Aunt Nan will get a big surprise from me soon. It’s unsigned, but you’ll like it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNormTwo-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize; Edited by J. Michael Lennon","brand":"Random House Trade Paperbacks","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300037054693,"sku":"NP9780812986105","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780812986105.jpg?v=1767736316","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/selected-letters-of-norman-mailer-isbn-9780812986105","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}