Rare Truman Capote Story from Early 1950s Is Being Published for First Time 

Author Truman Capote, shown in his apartment on July, 23, 1980. (AP)
Author Truman Capote, shown in his apartment on July, 23, 1980. (AP)
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Rare Truman Capote Story from Early 1950s Is Being Published for First Time 

Author Truman Capote, shown in his apartment on July, 23, 1980. (AP)
Author Truman Capote, shown in his apartment on July, 23, 1980. (AP)

Along with such classics as “In Cold Blood” and “Breakfast at Tiffany's,” Truman Capote had a history of work left uncompleted and unpublished.

Capote, who died in 1984 shortly before his 60th birthday, spent much of his latter years struggling to write his planned Proustian masterpiece “Answered Prayers,” of which only excerpts were released. As a young man, he wrote a novel about a love affair between a socialite and a parking lot attendant that was published posthumously under the title “Summer Crossing.”

Shorter work, too, was sometimes abandoned, including a piece released this week for the first time.

Capote was in his mid-20s and a rising star when he moved from New York City to Taormina, Sicily, in 1950 and settled in a scenic villa named Fontana Vecchia, once occupied by D.H. Lawrence. Acclaimed for his debut novel, “Other Voices, Other Rooms,” and for his eerie short story “Miriam,” Capote would describe the move to Europe as a needed escape from the American literary scene, which he likened to living inside a light bulb, and an ideal setting to get work done: He wrote the novel “The Grass Harp” in Sicily and worked on numerous short stories.

“I am so happy to be writing stories again — they are my great love,” he wrote to a friend.

One story from Sicily, “Another Day in Paradise,” is an unfinished work that appears in the new issue of The Strand Magazine. Written at a time of relative contentment for Capote, “Another Day” is a narrative of disillusion and entrapment: The middle-aged American heiress Iris Greentree has used her inheritance — a small one because her mother didn't trust her with money — to buy a villa in Sicily. She will end up betrayed by the local man who persuaded to invest her money, Signor Carlo Petruzzi, and too broke to sell the home and return to the US.

“The past had trained her to envision an affair from a futureless angle; at the most, she hoped such episodes would end in friendship. It was so humiliating that Carlo should have turned out not to be a friend. She’d trusted him to the extent of her capital: let him sell her the land, allowed him to build the villa, supply, at pirate prices, the native paraphernalia that furnished it,” Capote wrote.

“He was an emotional crook and, beyond that, a common gangster who’d pocketed at least half the money supposedly spent on Belle Vista. All this she could forgive him — could, but didn’t. The unforgivable aspect of the ghastly man’s behavior was that it had destroyed the meaning of these lines in her journal: `I belong. At last, somewhere.'”

Much of Capote's fiction was set in New York or in the American South, but “Another Day in Paradise” has the easy pace, decorative language and cutting — sometimes cruel — humor of his best known work, and the themes of loneliness, fear and regret. Thomas Fahy, author of “Understanding Truman Capote,” says that the author likely related to Iris Greentree's sense of displacement and alienation.

“He was constantly moving around as a child, from New Orleans to Alabama to New York to Connecticut,” Fahy says. “You could see how his life became very lonely and isolated.”

The Strand has published rare works by Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck and many others. Managing editor Andrew Gulli found the Capote story in the Library of Congress, inside an “old red- and gold-scrolled Florentine notebook,” he writes on the Strand editorial page. The handwritten manuscript, worked in pencil, was at times so hard to make out that Gulli needed a transcriber to help prepare it for publication.

Fahy says that Capote’s time in Sicily, where he remained for just over a year, left him with the kind of feelings many authors have when away from their native countries — a heightened sense of distance from home that likely helped inspire “Another in Paradise,” and a heightened clarity. which he drew upon for “The Grass Harp” and its memories of his years in Monroeville, Alabama.



Japanese Poet Shuntaro Tanikawa, Master of Modern Free Verse, Dies at 92

Shuntaro Tanikawa, a Japanese poet and translator, speaks during an interview with The Associated Press in Tokyo, on May 25, 2022. (AP)
Shuntaro Tanikawa, a Japanese poet and translator, speaks during an interview with The Associated Press in Tokyo, on May 25, 2022. (AP)
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Japanese Poet Shuntaro Tanikawa, Master of Modern Free Verse, Dies at 92

Shuntaro Tanikawa, a Japanese poet and translator, speaks during an interview with The Associated Press in Tokyo, on May 25, 2022. (AP)
Shuntaro Tanikawa, a Japanese poet and translator, speaks during an interview with The Associated Press in Tokyo, on May 25, 2022. (AP)

Shuntaro Tanikawa, who pioneered modern Japanese poetry, poignant but conversational in its divergence from haiku and other traditions, has died. He was 92.

Tanikawa, who translated the "Peanuts" comic strip and penned the lyrics for the theme song of the animation series "Astro Boy," died Nov. 13, his son Kensaku Tanikawa said Tuesday. He said his father died at a Tokyo hospital due to old age.

Shuntaro Tanikawa stunned the literary world with his 1952 debut "Two Billion Light Years of Solitude," a bold look at the cosmic in daily life, sensual, vivid but simple in its use of everyday language. Written before Gabriel García Márquez’ "One Hundred Years of Solitude," it became a bestseller.

Tanikawa’s "Kotoba Asobi Uta," or "Word Play Songs," is a rhythmical experiment in juxtaposing words that sound similar, such as "kappa," a mythical animal and "rappa," a horn, that makes for a joyful singsong compilation, filled with alliterations and onomatopoeia.

"For me, the Japanese language is the ground. Like a plant, I place my roots, drink in the nutrients of the Japanese language, sprouting leaves, flowers and bearing fruit," he said in a 2022 interview with The Associated Press at his Tokyo home.

Tanikawa explored the poetic, not only in the repetitive music of the spoken word but also the magic hidden in little things.

One of his works is titled, "I wanted to talk to you in the kitchen in the middle of the night."

"In the past, there was something about it being a job, being commissioned. Now, I can write as I want," he said.

In every work Tanikawa tackled, including the script for Kon Ichikawa’s "Tokyo Olympiad," a documentary film of the 1964 Tokyo Games, the respectful love for the beauty of the Japanese language resonates.

He also translated Mother Goose, Maurice Sendak and Leo Lionni. Tanikawa has in turn been widely translated, including English, Chinese and various European languages.

Some of his works were made into picture books for children, and they are often featured in Japanese school textbooks. He also incorporated Japanese words derived from foreign origins into his poems like Coca-Cola.

In his prose poem with that title, in which a boy is opening a Coke can, he wrote: "If, for instance, he saw the infinite universe that started or ended at the tip of his can, he was totally unaware of it. One might be able to opine that he named every bit of the unknown about to swallow him with all the vocabulary he could muster, which included his future vocabulary that was yet dormant in his subconscious."

In his debut poem that catapulted him to stardom, he is more sparse:

"Because the universe goes on expanding, we are all uneasy. With the chill of two billion light-years of solitude, I suddenly sneezed," is the way the poem ends, as translated by William I. Elliott and Kazuo Kawamura.

When asked about it, Tanikawa acknowledged it felt as though someone else had written it, but noted he still thought it was a good poem.

"Tanikawa’s poetry reflects a metaphysical and quasi-religious attitude toward experience. In simple, spare language, he sketches profound ideas and emotional truths," according to the Poetry Foundation, a US literary organization.

Tanikawa was born in 1931, a son of philosopher Tetsuzo Tanikawa, and began writing poetry in his teens, circulating with the famous poets of that era, like Makoto Ooka and Shuji Terayama.

He said he used to think poems descended like an inspiration from the heavens. But, as he grew older, he felt the poems welling up from the ground.

In person, Tanikawa was friendly and unassuming, often reading in public with other poets. He never seemed to take himself too seriously but used to confess his one regret in life was never finishing his education, having dropped out amid stardom at a young age.

His relative isolation from the bleakly serious scholarly poetry scene of postwar Japan likely helped him take his free-verse approach that went on to innovate and define Japanese contemporary poetics.

Tanikawa said he wasn’t afraid of death, implying he perhaps meant to write a poem about that experience, too.

"I am more curious about where I will go when I die. It’s a different world, right? Of course, I don’t want pain. I don’t want to die after major surgery or anything. I just want to die, all of a sudden," he said.

He is survived by his son, musician Kensaku Tanikawa and daughter Shino and several grandchildren. Funeral services were held privately with family and friends. A farewell event in his honor is being planned, Kensaku Tanikawa said.

"As they did with all of you, Shuntaro’s poems stunned and moved me, making me chuckle or shed a tear. Wasn’t it all so fun?" he said. "His poems are with you forever."