Lover, Beloved

My advice to all young writers is this (bright upbeat music) If you want to be a writer like me First of all, you must be fated Why don't you start with your pen and your heart And the need to know how they're related You must begin with your story within When you long to feel somehow connected Major funding for this program was provided by the Society for the Preservation of Texas Music.

My advice to all young writers is... Additional funding was provided by Lonnie Cooper, RF Entertainment Inc, and Sheila Newsom.

Come and take what is mine To share with you and if youre... - Hi, I'm Suzanne Vega, the writer and performer of the film you are about to watch.

I'm speaking to you from the actual dressing room of the 92nd Street Y here in New York City.

Though we shot "Lover, Beloved" on a sound stage in Austin, Texas, it takes place on the main hall stage of the 92nd Street Y. I have a longstanding love for the great southern writer, Carson McCullers.

While I was studying English literature and theater as an undergrad at Barnard College, I was given an assignment by my teacher, Shirley Kaplan, of choosing a person who was no longer alive from the world of the arts.

And coming in the next day dressed as that person, ready to answer questions as though I were on TV.

I worked many jobs back then, and one was as an assistant librarian, where I put books back on the shelves after they had been borrowed if I wasn't sitting on the floor reading them.

This was in the 1970's and the wonderful biography of Carson McCullers by Virginia Spencer Carr had just been released.

I was struck by the portrait on the cover.

It was a tall, boyish girl with blunt cut bangs, a little jacket, a Brooks Brothers shirt, and with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.

I remembered this image and sought out that book.

I had only read one piece of writing by Carson McCullers at that time.

It was called "Sucker".

It was a short story about two boys.

One seeks the love and friendship of the other, who treats him badly, calls him sucker.

Over the course of the story, the tide turns the other way.

I thought it was a great story and I couldn't wait to read more of this guy, Carson McCullers, whoever he was, but he or she was on the cover of the 700 page biography.

I took the book out of the library and read as much as I could overnight.

I picked out a little jacket and then bought a pack of cigarettes and swaggered into class the next morning, ready to field questions.

Her gin drinking, smoking, bisexual persona was heady stuff for a 19-year-old.

And I ended up writing a half hour, one woman show with songs based on her life and her work as my senior thesis in 1981.

This was way before my first record deal.

I revisited this project throughout the decades.

The play, "Carson McCullers Talks About Love", came out in 2011 and ran off Broadway.

I then rewrote the whole thing and the final version of the play was called "Lover, Beloved", which had its premier in 2018 in Houston, Texas.

It was then made into the film you're about to watch, which was directed by Michael Tully and world premiered at the 2022 South by Southwest Film Festival.

I have always found Carson McCullers to be a singularly modern sensibility, regardless of whatever era I was working in.

I love her for her compassion, her empathy, her eye for detail, especially regarding children.

And I love her for her unsentimentality.

I love her for her prescient vision of the Civil Rights era back in 1940.

And the "Heart Is a Lonely Hunter," published when she was only 23 years-old.

I love her because she tough and yet so fragile and needy and sometimes cruel in her private life.

And we need her work today more than ever.

I really hope you enjoy the film Thanks for watching.

- [Crew Member] Pictures up.

Let's make a movie again.

Lock it up all around please.

- [Suzanne] Carson is a southerner, through and through.

- [McCullers] Sources of creation are very mysterious.

And I don't think one can find them.

by just, looking for them.

- Not that I care what wit... [trails off].

- [Suzanne] I just felt a lot of soul from her.

I grew up in the poorer neighborhoods in New York City and I just felt a lot of her in my neighbors and people that I knew, the people I lived with.

My stepfather is Puerto Rican, a man of color.

Our neighbors were Puerto Rican, which are all races, so I didn't feel that oh, she's from the south and I'm from the north.

And so we have this big thing.

Take that please.

I just went there.

I just went there as far as I could go.

- [Film worker] Scene seven A, take seven.

(wind whistling) (upbeat music) (upbeat music) (gentle music) (audience applauding) - Is this water?

They said there would be a pitcher of martinis.

There.

More like it.

So this is the Y, the 92nd Street Y. I'm here for the, what's it called, the Successful Young Author Lecture Series of 1941 or some such thing.

They asked me to come and speak about my techniques, about my writing because I'm quite successful, you know?

I'm a quite successful author.

My first novel, "The Heart of the Lonely Hunter", came out just, just last year, 1940.

And it was, it really was quite successful.

"New York Times" review of my book said, Carson McCullers is a full-fledged novelist, whatever her age she writes with a sweep and certainty that are overwhelming.

"Virginia Quarterly Review" said it was a miracle of compassion, pity, and irony.

You know?

Oh, and my favorite review, the most impressive aspect of "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" is the astonishing humanity that enables a white writer for the first time in southern fiction to handle negro characters with as much ease and justice as those of her own race.

Richard Wright, New Republic, August, 1940.

Take that, William Faulkner.

So these are my tips for success.

Just sit at your desk five hours a day.

Go for a walk for an hour.

Start with a sherry, end with a gin, a toddy for the body for the hours within.

My advice to all young writers is this.

If you want to be a writer like me First of all, you must be fated Why don't you start with your pen and your your heart and the need to know how they're related You must begin with your story within When you long to feel somehow connected Get into the flowers of life as it goes Along on its path unexpected My advice to all young writers is this Writing is discipline Writing is art So even as you seclude You have to write morning and night You have to write even if you're not in the mood My advice to all young writers is this So many things you need to know All these details tell and show The New York Times never shows the deal The daily news always makes it real My advice to all young writers is this Find the divine collusion Seek out God on your team Call it the fantastic illusion Create the flowering dream.

My advice to all young writers is this You must begin with your story within And when you don't feel somehow connected Get into the flows of life as it goes Along on this path unexpected My advice to all young writers is this Just write That said, everybody hates my newest novel, "Reflections in a Golden Eye".

Not that I care one wit about reviews, but lately the critics say that I am a holy terror.

That I am a destroyer, carnivorous, cannibalistic.

That I am an emotional vampire, a viper, a lesbian, corrupting the morals of America's youth.

You know, it's all, it's all true.

I've had many, many, many affairs.

I've had affairs with men and affairs with women and affairs with what's left.

I had a passionate relationship with Greta Garbo.

And it lasted all the way through well, lunchtime, then we realized we had nothing to say to each other.

And Catherine Ann Porter, it's quite a story there and that lovely little ballerina... One time I offered myself to Louis Untermeyer, famous poet, and he declined 'cause he was rather tired.

And I was rather tired too, but I thought it would be nice to ask.

So last year I was a miracle of compassion.

And this year, not so much.

Apparently.

So I, so I wrote a novel, well, two novels now, well, two published, and one newly or nearly finished, which is more of a novella or a novelette.

So Im going to talk about my successful novel "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter", which is about five people who are fundamentally alone.

And each one is connected by and to this one man who is a deaf, a deaf mute named John Singer.

And as I said, it was tremendously successful from the moment it came out, which was only last year, 1940, which seems so long ago now.

And I was 22 when the novel came out.

And now I'm 23 and and a half.

But I was 19 when I began this novel.

And that was the year I married Reeves, Reeves McCullers.

So I am no longer Lula Carson Smith as I was born.

I'm now Carson McCullers, famous author.

Reeves comes from Alabama.

But I come from Columbus, Georgia.

You know, when I first saw Reeves, it was a shock.

The shock of pure beauty because Reeves McCullers was the best looking man I had ever seen.

And I was astonished actually that such a man could, would be attracted to me.

And he brought flowers for Mother, which she loved.

And he brought beer and cigarettes for me, which I loved And he was a liberal, which was important to my mind.

So Reeves and I, we went to the Chattahoochee Fair and we rode our bicycles and we went on long walks through the woods and we made a picnic.

(upbeat piano music) The woods near the wild, wildflowers Little darling Reeves We laughed Playing in the woods by the hours Little darling Reeves We swam Bare in the brown water Little darling Reeves Remember who loves you Oh, my precious Reeves Do you see Oh, my angel Reeves We ran To fair, to the freaks and the stars Oh my angel Reeves, we walked To the jail saw ourselves behind bars Oh my angel Reeves We saw All that there is to see Little darling Reeves Remember who loves you Oh, my precious Reeves Do you see Oh my, angel Reeves Remember who loves you Oh, my precious Reeves Do you see (thoughtful piano music) Sylvia Chatfield Bates, my writing teacher here in New York, write about your own backyard.

That's what Ms.

Bates used to sa which I have certainly done, but I don't always agree.

The idea is always better than the reality.

Parts of this novel were provoked by an incident I read about in the "Columbus Enquirer Sun", where these negro boys were on the chain gang.

And this one white guard kept taunting them, you know?

And one of the boys finally sat back and then tried to get away.

The guards took them, you see, and put them into an ice cold room.

And... I put it all in my book.

(wind whistling) When I was younger, it was my dream to live in New York City.

At one time, Reeves I were both studying writing here.

But I became very ill, again.

And he very sweetly took me home to Columbus.

He sat by my bed and fed me chicken broth with okra.

And we talked.

And he held my hand when I couldn't talk, when the fever made it hard.

When I felt better, we got married and off we went to Charlotte, North Carolina, where Reeves had rented an apart probably the best eight months of our whole married life.

(birds chirping) We made a deal.

After two years, Reeves would be the writer.

I don't know what happened to that plan, but I, I finished the outline of my novel at, in the first six chapters.

And Ms.

Bates told me about a contest, a writing contest.

And I won second prize, a publishing deal with Houghton Mifflin.

We had no money to move to New York City, but we were desperate to get outta Charlotte.

So we moved to Fayetteville.

Reeves kept house.

I tried cooking, but I'm no good at it.

I made a chicken once and Reeves came home shouting, baby, what is it, that smell?

Burnt feathers.

Well, I knew my novel was coming out, so I started talking about New York City again.

And I, I dreamed that this time we would move to that magic city and stay and be writers.

This was going to be our beautiful future.

This is how I felt every night.

I put my shoes at the foot of my bed and pointed them towards New York City.

(audience applauding) New York is my destination New York is where I will be from New York is made for grander things Just like me I will lunch at the Elgar Queen Swing by the plaza Waltz on in the Three Arts club I'll live there indefinitely Because New York is made for grander things Just like me Little writer, yes They will love me Paparazzi, well could this be Glitterati, they know of me New York's waiting for me All of the tales of seduction Glittering on the horizon Mountains of fame and fortune and snow Finally.

Because New York is made for grander things Just like me Glitterati Yes, they will love me Paparazzi Well, could this be Glitterati, well, they know of me New York's waiting for me Practice Ever Parnassus Cram for All of your classes Ride those 5th Avenue buses Weave some tale about us I lost all my money for Julliard.

I hid in the phone booth at Macy's.

I slept in a brothel All the way to my destiny because New York is made for grander things Just like me Glitterati, yes They will love me Paparazzi Well, could this be Glitterati, well, they know of me New York's waiting for me New York is made for grand new things Just like me (audience applauding) Do you know that I made it here to New York City on the day, "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" was published?

And you would have thought that he would have been here with me.

Reeves that is.

Instead he was off on a boat having drinks with a man named Jack.

When I think of how I loved him and all I learned from him in the beginning, it was Edwin Peacock.

That's how I first met Reeves.

Edwin wrote to me, when I first came to New York City, I was studying piano at Julliard, but I gave all my money to a friend to hold and I never saw it again.

So I took writing classes with Ms.

Bates instead.

And Edwin, who was my first, my first real friend we met over Rachmaninoff.

He wrote me and told me that he had met a man in the library back home.

And that he was a charming man and that I would really like him.

He became friends with my family.

Reeves, that is.

He made friends with Mother, mother's name is Marguerite.

And they all seemed to feel that he was the one for me.

I was dangled in front of him for months before we even met.

And later he proposed to me.

And I didn't know anything about sex.

I was 19 years old and I didn't know anything except from books.

You see, when I asked mother about sex, she took me behind the holly tree.

And she said with her sublime simplicity, sex, my darling takes place where you sit down.

And that was all.

So I told my parents I was not going to marry him until I knew what it was like.

And so we went off on this little trip.

And I must say it was nothing like DH Lawrence.

No, there was no grand explosions or colored lights.

Nothing like DH Lawrence.

But still, we had pink champagne and tomatoes out of Caesar.

And I did learn to really love him.

But honestly, I cannot see what all the fuss is about.

Although I do greatly, greatly admire DH Lawrence.

Oh, but I don't know, perhaps one day I will feel that sublime, sublime experience.

I generally only feel that sense of transcendence when I'm, when I'm, when I'm drunk, which is rare.

Or when I'm listening to Mozart or when I'm listening to Chopin or Bach especially, but especially Mozart and actually Schubert.

That's when I feel that sense of transcendence.

I long to feel what Reeves calls agape love, a transcendent, all embracing love of humanity.

I long to feel that in my life.

I can't believe, I can't believe what I just found out.

My daddy called me and he said, why is it you have no money in your account?

The bank had called him and said that I was seriously overdrawn and he knows how careful I am about these kinds of things.

And he said have you been depositing your checks?

And I said, well, yes I have.

And he said, well, why is it you have no money?

And he said, someone has forged your handwriting and come and taken out all the money.

And at first I did not believe him, but I had received a big fat check for a story in the "New Yorker" magazine.

So I went out drinking at the Heidi Ho and I must have left that check lying on the bar because the bartender called up and he said, this Carson McCullers, he must be a really good writer 'cause it's for a lot of money.

So I gave that check to Reeve to deposit.

And I never saw a penny of it.

And not only that, but beat me and he tore up all my clothes and he threw me naked in the hallway.

Really, it's too much for a body to bear.

That's enough out of you tonight My darling This show is over for now The monkey is dead I detest all this drunken brawling Now let's see if you can make it Into this bed How I love you How I loathe you It's a sharp, quick love I feel My darling But you're not as drunk as you seem So why pretend On your cheek, that sweet shadow falling The pulse in your neck How I'll know it Right to the end How I love you How I loathed you And all you can say is reverberating acuity Lousy simile Vacant majesty In the instant of the hour after Well right now, it's you and me My darling Trapped here inside of this bottle Drowning like flies When the frenzy's over We're crawling Specimens spent and exhausted We press to the sides How I love you How I loathe you I am not here to talk about Reeves.

I am here to talk about writing.

I wanted to write about a Jew.

You see, because we are all concerned about what is going on over there in Europe.

There are some terrible things happening.

So I felt that perhaps Erica Mann who's the daughter of Thomas Mann, you know, who wrote "Death in Venice" and "Magic Mountain", perhaps she could give me some advice because I knew her father had experience with the Nazis.

They just burned all his manuscripts after all.

So I went to her hotel room and there before me I saw the most beautiful face, the golden hair, the haunted eyes of Annemarie Clara Schwarzenbach.

She looked just like a, just like a boy.

She told me of all her wanderings through Egypt, Syria, Afghanistan, and all the far east.

And as fascinated as I was, I was bewildered.

She asked to see me the very next day and she said, you don't know what it means to be cured of this terrible habit.

What terrible habit, I asked.

She said, didn't anybody tell you about me?

I've been taking morphine since I'm 18 years-old, Knowing nothing of morphine or the effects of the habit, you know, I was not as impressed as I should have been.

But she's very dear to me, very dear.

She, she is the love of my life.

I saw your face I knew you'd haunt me For all of my life Rising above me If you could want me I'd be no man's wife Everyone sees you Everyone knows you How can I possibly compare Who could attain you With all of your pain Who could possibly hold one so fair Terror, pity, love Annemarie If I could see God His face would be sacred like yours Annemarie But God's face is hidden And your face is suddenly All I can see Everyone worships you Everyone needs you How can I possibly complain Who could contain you With all of your pain Could I gather up all that you remain Terror pity love Annemarie So I found out that she and Reeves had been meeting and she wrote this little note to Reeves saying, oh, Carson seems to believe that I am her destiny.

And the two of them were now tog and they were talking about me, talking about me behind my back.

It may be my fate to fall in lov again and again.

It may also be my fate to never have that love returned if I live that long.

(wind rustling) - That particular summer I was 15.

I thought I had tuberculosis.

It would have been so romantic.

The doctor said I had pneumonia.

But it turned out to be rheumatic fever, which was never properly diagnosed.

And so it never really goes away.

And I have been very, very sick pretty much on and off since then with influenza and all kinds of fevers.

Really quite altered me, physically.

'Cause if you don't catch it, there have been so many times where they thought I would die.

I find I have to go home when I have my fevers or my fits.

My mother in her sublime simplicity adores me.

I am mother's favorite.

I think I'm coming apart a little.

I'm not sleeping well.

And I think I'm seeing things that don't really exist.

(cup clatters) You know, I was five foot eight and a half at 13 years of age.

So I began smoking to stunt my growth, 'cause if you do the math, I was gonna be over nine feet tall by the time I was 18.

And what is a woman over nine feet tall?

A freak.

Lemme tell you a little story.

Once upon a time there was a tall, freakish woman in love with a little bitty dwarf.

And they were so happy together until one night a stranger arrived.

This is part of the novelette that I'm working on.

This is a theory, a theory of love.

There's the lover and there is the beloved.

For these two, they come from different countries.

Now, one night in May, Reeves and myself went to a party out in Brooklyn.

And there I met the young composer, David Diamond.

So shall I tell you what he said about me?

I took it from his diary.

May 22nd, 1941.

I have met Carson McCullers and I shake as I write.

Now I have met this lovable child woman whose loneliness hit me the moment I entered Muriel's apartment, May 26th, 1941.

After Reeves left for work, I crawled into Carson's little bed and held her so great, this so tender artist in my arms and felt her cracking lungs as she coughed miserably.

We were together constantly after that.

David lives in Rochester, but spent many a night with us in the city.

And at dinner I said to Reeves, Reeves darling David is a part of our family.

We love each other.

We are a wonderful threesome.

My squeezed heart divides Into two wide wings The world is a sudden place If you don't belong to anything Noah may have got it wrong There's one more That could belong This must be the irony of fate That I and the world Are always separate All other people Have a we to claim Except for me And my own name I belong to be With the two of you And we make three As a family That is why You're the we of me We of me I belong to be With the two of you And we make three As a family That is why You're the we of me We of me Noah's ark admitted, only two by two We know this isn't always true 'Cause Noah may have got it wrong There's one more that could belong I belong to be With the two of you And we make three As a family That is why You are the we of me The we of me I belong to be With the two of you And we make three As a family That is why You're the we of me We of me That is why You're the we of me We of me That is why You're the we of me The we of me (wind rustling) David and I were very happy.

But Reeves was becoming morose.

I said, Reeves darling, what is troubling you?

I have always told you that you have a puritanical nature.

There's nothing wrong with having a dalliance with a member of the same sex.

It's lovely rounds out your character.

Who is it?

Well, you know, I can't believe, I can't believe what I just found out.

Reeves, my husband, whom I am now divorcing, is in love with David Diamond.

So Reeves wants to be with David and I want to be with Annemarie.

And Reeves is forging my checks.

And this lecture of the successful young author series of 1941 is now over because I am leaving New York City, I'm going home now, to mother.

I am not long for this world.

(wind rustling) (solemn piano music) (audience applauding) You know, they're going to chop off my leg.

No, this is good.

The time has come.

We have even set a date October, 1967, two months from now, 'cause every day I cuss my leg and I cuss the doctors for taking so long to get rid of it.

You know, I have my own team of doctors at the Harkness Pavilion.

I have been incarcerated there four times already.

But I am still here in spite of it all, in spite of everything and I am working on a new book.

And it will be called, "In Spite Of", "In Spite Of".

I'm still here in spite of all I have endured Through hell I've crawled Like Sarah Bernhard in World War I Brave and courageous, she got the job done Cole Porter too afflicted like me At the Harkness Pavilion severed at the knee In spite of all In spite of it all I'm still standing Everyone told me I would die young Fate marked me out as fragile And unstrung Like Freida Color, that wounded soul Lived through her art It made her whole In spite of all In spite of it all I'm still standing I'm still here The last one I persevere Time's moving on In spite of all In spite of it all I'm still standing In spite of the losses My daily crosses that I have to weigh I have hope I have hope And I'm still standing.

I'm still standing Metaphorically speaking of course, I suppose I'll be a bit like, oh I don't know.

a bit like Captain Ahab from "Moby Dick".

One of the great American romantic novels.

You know, in a way you could say that romantic fever has been my great white whale because I have fought so hard to be here, to be alive.

And why would anybody want to, I don't talk about that.

(wind rustling) The character in my work that is most like myself is Frankie Adams.

My sister said that.

And I suppose there's something to it.

You know, the we of me, that is from "The Member of the Wedding", where Frankie wants to join her brother and his bride in the wedding.

And not just the wedding party, but in the marriage.

That part does not quite work out.

So I am like Frankie, but then again I become all the characters I write about.

I am so immersed in them that their motives are my own.

When I write about a thief, become one.

When I write about Captain Pendleton, I become a homosexual man.

When I write about a deaf mute, I am dumb for the time of the story.

And I bless the Latin poet Terrance who said, "Nothing human is alien to me."

And I think the characters that give you the most trouble are the ones you'd love the best.

And I worked so hard on that novel, on "The Member of the Wedding", five years on that novel.

And I like the language of that novel.

I wanted it to have the imagery and the cadence of poetry.

I was glad when I made a play of it.

'Cause it was spoken then.

And I liked the lines and the novel and the play were both very, very successful.

And I wrote the play with Tennessee Williams.

He invited me to spend the summer in Nantucket.

He said he was very sick.

He thought he might die.

How could I refuse?

(people chattering) That summer of 1946 was magnificent and the house was a mess.

Storm had blown in and broken all the windows.

Stray cat had just had kittens on my bed.

Tenn was giving the kitty whiskey see, try and relieve the pains.

And he said, now you need to make a play "A Member of the Wedding".

And I said, I don't know anything about plays.

Tenn just smiled.

So he worked at one part of the table writing "Summer and Smoke".

And I wrote at the other part of the table writing, "Member of the Wedding".

We worked all day, swam at four.

And then I made my special dish, Spuds Carson.

You take a potato and cook it, then you pound it up, throw in some onions and butter.

Spuds Carson Open a can of pea soup.

And then you put it in the pot and liven in it with wieners.

Soup.

Carson.

Do you know the writer Henry Miller?

He wrote me a note, a congratulatory note back in 1940.

He referred to me back then as a prophetess.

Yes back then, because I foresaw that march in Washington DC, that Civil Rights March a couple years ago.

It was all right there in my first book, way before she, you know, I try, I try to be generous.

And there's some of these younger up and coming authors who recently have achieved greater acclaim.

And if you must know, I am particularly thinking of Harper Lee who wrote a novel.

There's nothing wrong with the novel.

It's a good novel.

It's perfectly fine novel.

Not a particularly profound or groundbreaking novel, mind you, not like my "Heart is a Lonely Hunter".

And of course I am speaking of "To Kill a Mockingbird", which has won all kinds of it's won all kinds of, it won all kinds of things.

But I must tell you that she was well schooled.

Well schooled.

She knows from whence she came.

Oh, writers.

(audience laughing) (audience applauding) Virginia Woolf She leaves me cold I recognize the genius But I'm twice as bold I have more to say Than Hemingway Lord knows, compared to Faulker I say it in a better way Graham Greene He loves me He loves my poetic sensibility Katherine Anne Porter Might be the best one now But in about a year I'm gonna show her how Yes I will Said to Reeves the other day Proust really is the man Who comforts me in a way No other writer can The timeless quality of the work The length is very long Believe me Marcel Proust goes on And on and on and on Seven volumes Oh, Harper Harper Lee Lee Lee She only wrote that one book I've written more than three Darling Tennessee Williams It's anybody's guess Why "Streetcar" made millions And "Wedding" so much less I will forever be pondering that one Harper Harper Harper Lee Lee Lee Why do they always compare her to me To me Won't even talk about Eudora Welty As for F. Scott, my "Sad Cafe" Is greater than his "Gatsby" I'm just telling you What someone told me they read 'Cause I never look at my reviews They might give me the big head Now Truman Capote was hypnotized Mesmerized 'cause he realized That I knew that he knew That he had plagiarized my cadences Imagine his surprise You'll see it in his eyes When I win that Nobel Prize (audience applauding) Oh thank you.

Thank you so very much I shall be humble and gracious Harper Harper Harper Lee Lee Lee Why do they always compare her to me To me She always seems to be receiving More than she deserves Honey, she's poaching on my literary preserves Yes from Harper Lee We have seen and we've heard And I'd like to kill more than just That mocking bird You know, sometimes I really would So you just wait until next year (audience applauding) (wind rustling) I was writing about his social situation 20 years before her.

But that is not, that is, I am quite generous in my appraisals.

And I have my 25 years of writing to look back on, oh yes.

This event is called Carson McCullers celebrates 25 years of writing and that is what I'm going to do.

Or is it 30, which I have behind me now.

They said, can you come back to the 92nd Street Y and talk about love Mrs.

McCullers?

And I said, no.

I said, darling, what on earth am I going to say for posterity?

I don't have any more of it left.

Everyone I've loved is gone.

Mother's gone.

My darling Annemarie is gone.

And Reeves, we divorced.

But you know, we did, we did remarry.

He stowed himself away on a ship.

I was going to England on the Queen Elizabeth to visit my dear friend, Dame Edith Sitwell.

And I could have sworn that I had seen his face here and there.

And I thought, he really has driven me crazy this time.

I really will have to see a psychoanalyst when I land.

And it turned out it actually was him.

He made himself known to me.

So on the second day, I wrote him a note and I said, are you available for lunch by chance?

And he said, well, yes.

And we had champagne and we had these lovely little sandwiches with watercress and butter.

He leaned over the table and he held my hand.

And I was swept away by my feelings for him.

When he was fighting overseas in what we now called World War II, we wrote the most tender letters to each other.

And when he came home, he marched down the street, all decorated with medals.

And my heart was flooded with this emotion.

Little darling Reeves We ran To the fair, to the freaks and the stars Little darling Reeves We walked To the jail saw ourselves behind bars Little darling Reeves We saw All that there is to see Little darling Reeves Remember who loves you Oh, my precious Reeves The idea of him was better than the reality.

He was back to the alcohol and the womanizing and the dalliances with them.

You know, the real love of my life is truly Annemarie Clara Schwarzenbach with the most beautiful face, the golden hair.

She looked just like her, just like a boy.

In the end, she plunged over the side of a cliff.

She plunged over the side of a ravine on her bicycle.

And she never recovered.

The last time I saw her, she said, thank you, my lippe.

And she pulled me to her and she kissed me.

She kissed me.

It was the first and last time we ever kissed.

Mother never liked her.

Someone asked my brother, Lamar, why there were no mothers in my work.

I never noticed.

I suppose it's true that all the little girls in my books have no mothers.

Frankie, Mick Kelly, I had never noticed, honestly.

He told them it was because I would never reveal to the world how much I needed my mother.

So I made her disappear, when in life she was right there.

Even at the end, we lived in the same house, we slept in the same room.

And I happened to be away when she passed on.

Ida called me and she said, oh darling, you really must come home right away.

Ida said it was best that I wasn't there.

You know, that I didn't see.

Ida is a relatively new person in my life.

She's my lovely housekeeper.

She looks after me and I pay her very well.

And we have a fully, a fully integrated house- -hold.

She makes all these lovely meals and treats.

And I'm always saying, looking at the cookbooks and saying, oh, let's try this and let's try that.

And she is all I have now.

And may I say it's tragic what happened to Reeves and I don't like to talk of it.

Really.

I don't like to talk of it.

It makes me angry.

It's not right.

And in the end, I feel that Reeves was not right.

He was so, so sweet in his letters to me.

And so very sweet during the courtship.

But once we married again, nothing had really changed.

Nothing had changed.

A war does not change a man.

The alcohol, now the womanizing and the dalliances, and the carrying on.

I said, we'll go.

We'll go to France.

We'll go to France.

And a few weeks later, we were in the car and in France and I was going for a checkup at the American hospital.

And I suddenly looked down and there was this mess of rope at my feet.

And I said, Reeves, darling, what, what, what is this?

And it was a noose.

And not just one, two.

Two nooses.

And he invited me to kill myself.

And I did not want to kill myself.

I am ill, but I have hope.

And I still want to, I still want to live.

I saw that mess of rope in the car, and he decided to stop off at a liquor store.

And he said, we're going to buy a bottle of brandy.

We're going to go on a picnic.

We're going to have our final, our final fling is the way he put it.

And I became afraid.

I became afraid for my life.

And I said, Reeves darling, you go on and you get that bottle of brandy and I'll, and you just go on and you do that.

And I got out of the car, I got out and I flagged down the first vehicle that would take me.

And I never went back.

I never went back.

I never went back home to him.

I went home to mother and I never saw him again because just two or three months later, he did, he did, he killed himself.

Do you know, there are those who feel that I drove him to it?

Did I?

Is that possible?

I helped some with the funeral arrangements.

But our friends, our friends arranged a military veterans funeral there in France with the full honors apparently.

I never, I never went.

I heard that Truman Capote was there and Janet Genet Flanner from the New Yorker, he, Reeves had set Janet a bouquet of flowers, the most beautiful bouquet she had ever seen.

That's what she said.

It arrived after his death with a card saying, from the man across the River Styx.

Do you see?

He knew he was going to die.

And he sent her flowers and he was not thinking of me.

Lover beloved Behold each of these Lover pursues The beloved one flees Lover beloved From countries apart Each one alone In the land of the heart Each one alone In the land of the heart Lover beloved Forever stripped bare Turned in the night And it's he who is there Liar and lover And hero and thief Turn in the night And he brings no relief Brother or husband He brings no relief The man across the Styx Will send flowers from beyond the end The man across the Styx Will be her lover for eternity Lover beloved Her brave cavalier All of his love Raising hatred and fear Lover beloved Each craving the touch Each bears the burden Of loving too much Each bears the burden Of loving too much The man across the Styx Will send flowers from beyond the end The man across the Styx Will be her lover for eternity Lover beloved Behold each of these Lover pursues The beloved one flees Lover beloved From countries apart Each one alone In the land of the heart Each one alone In the land of the heart I have loved all of humanity.

And yet it is so difficult to love just one human in the end.

You know, I have always known myself alone.

There was that day I found myself on the Bowery, and I looked around and I saw people, suddenly, all these people in the shadows on the Bowery.

And I must tell you that the deb of those derelicts sent a shiver through my soul.

I looked into the eyes of those derelicts.

And I had seen those eyes before in the Columbus jails, the basement cells, the criminals, their eyes looked at me and said, we know you.

I saw those eyes again in the faces of the freaks at the Chattahoochee Fair.

Those eyes said to me, you are one of us.

And now I am seeing those same eyes in the faces here.

And you are all looking at me as though to say, we know you, you are one of us.

Reeves shared all of that loneliness with me.

All that.

I loved him.

I loved him like he was my own brother.

Reeves was the only man I ever actually kissed.

I must remember, I must remember, I must remember why we are here.

We are here to celebrate.

And we are here to celebrate that I am here to celebrate.

Because who knows how much time there is.

So we must celebrate what we can.

And, oh, well, why don't we celebrate my 50th birthday, again?

Because, you know, I threw a party for myself at the Plaza Hotel, and it was inspired by Truman Capote's black and white ball, the plaza last year.

And I thought, oh, you know, my party will be even bigger and even better than Truman's old party.

And then I thought, how will I get there in this condition?

So I called myself an ambulance and they came and they took me all the way, all the way from Nyack down to the Plaza Hotel.

They do that, you know, if you call and you ask.

They had to get me around a couple of the corners.

But it all worked out.

And I had the suite that is usually reserved for Marlene Dietrich.

I did an interview with Rex Reed, the sad, happy life of Carson McCullers I told him.

I spoke to members of the press, I lay in state and we, people came and we all sat together at a big table and we all ordered the most succulent things on the menu.

We ordered the lobster Thermidor and the special seafood casserole with grapes.

And we had sherbet laced with Grand Marnier.

It was magnificent.

It was such a realization of... of love, of communion.

It was a marvelous sort of... of moment of agape love.

Really, truly, it is agape love that is what is important in this life.

A transcendent, universal, all embracing love of humanity and not so uch the erotic.

Friendship and love of the feast, that is what endures.

And I wrote those books, those stories, and this vision of agape love was my gift, what I had to give.

And this party at the plaza was an expression of all of that.

All of that, really.

I love the world Sometimes it loves me Love of my life is humanity The rich and the poor The broken and whole all come together Feeding the song Each one belongs at this feast Drink for the pleasure And drink for the pains Drink for the losses And drink to the gains The humble, the twisted The proud, and the grand The sinner, the sinned against This is my stead Each one belongs at this feast Come be at this table Come and take what is mine to share with you And if you're able You must give what is thine to give Thine to give forever Living as one solid body together Drink for the sorrows And drink to the bliss Drink to the rapture of Eros' first kiss One strong, true purpose No thought of return No rest or hope of rest The vision still burns Each one belongs at this feast Come and be at this table.

Come and take what is mine to share with you.

And if you're able You must give what is thine to give Thine to give forever Living as one solid body together Come be at this table Come and take what is mine to share with you And if you're able You must give what is thine to give Thine to give forever Living as one solid body together The fact of it is my darlings, is that I'm a terribly, terribly flawed human being, you know?

Maybe not the miracle of compassion I have wished to be, but I still do love this world so very much.

The love of my life is humanity (wind rustling) (audience applauding) (thoughtful music) You know, now, they film you for posterity.

(lively music) A wounded sparrow timid and shy.

A fallen deer, that's what they call.

But I'm an iron butterfly.

A childish liar.

A devilish (...).

I can be innocent and charming and suddenly switch.

But you've got to understand, understand, understand that I've never belonged - You should know that I, well, I, I break into song from time to time.

I love music.

Always have.

- [Narrator] Major funding for this was program provided by the Society for the Preservation Texas Music.

Additional funding was provided by Lonnie Cooper, RF Entertainment Inc.

And Sheila Newsom.

Come and take what is mine to share with you And if you're able (lively flute music)