Decca, p.98
Decca, page 98
POLITICS68 …
The background is that in 1980 I had a furious falling-out with the Clintons and Jerry Brown. It concerned the extradition to Arkansas of an escaped convict who had lived for 4 ¼ blameless years in California….
When I was researching the articles [on Walker], I went to Little Rock & had lunch with Gov. Clinton & Hillary via an intro. from Bob. All to no avail. The interesting thing is the Bob/Hillary connection.
Hillary Rodham, as she then was, came to work for Bob as a student intern when she was a Yale law student, in the 1960’s. Top students like Hillary were much sought after by huge prestigious Wall Street type law firms—some, like Hillary, were far more interested in left-wing firms like Charles Garry’s69 in SF & Bob’s.
Fast-forward to 1992, & the election campaign. There was a v. long article in Vanity Fair by Gail Sheehy, an interview with Hillary in which every detail of her life from childhood on was explored—no mention of the internship in Bob’s law office. Quite right, I thought, as obviously if that came out it wld be prime meat for the Bush70 campaign.
Last act in this mini-drama: Bob & I were having dinner with Diane Johnson (a v. good writer, neighbor of ours) & she said, “I hear that Hillary Clinton once worked for you when she was a Yale law student.” How did you know that, we asked? Turns out her son-in-law works in the White House dirty-tricks division … whose job is to dig up dirt on all the Bush opposition. So the son-in-law mentioned to Diane that “your friend Treuhaft” once employed Hillary. Presumably, the Bush campaign is hoarding this bit of non-news for later springing on the public.
From all I know about her, Hillary seems to be an excellent person—president of Children’s Defense Fund etc…. Viv. Cadden spent some days with Hillary (can’t remember the context) and thought she was smashing, which is also our impression….
Much love, Decca
To Maya Angelou
Oakland
July 8, 1992
Dearest Maya,
Thanks a trill. for yr adorable letter of 27 June (rec’d yesterday—postmarked 1 July). I can’t say how v.v. delighted I am to have it.
As to our one real row: It did arise out of a real disagreement on a v. important subject. I’m sure that my failure was to write letters that were abrasive, and what my children used to pronounce as “sour-castic.” That was pretty stupid of me, & I v. much regret an offensive tone that may have crept in. However, for me, true friendship does include being able to discuss differences of opinion on substantive matters. That is, I don’t relish the idea of taboo subjects on which one may deeply disagree, but which have to be swept under the rug as too sensitive for airing—or slugging out. Your views? Maybe one day we can have a rational discussion—which, no doubt, will not actually change the views of you or me but at least get this knotty question out of the way….
Your comment about loved ones dropping off like flies. … [N]owadays much YOUNGER people keep dropping, such as J. Baldwin,71 Peter Jenkins,72 Tony Richardson. That stupid Grim Reaper has no concept of suitable times to be reaping. What a drag.
Longing to C U as soon as poss. Do give a shout when you get home….
Your DEVOTED & ever-loving Decca
To James Forman Jr.
Oakland
July 20, 1992
Dearest Oy #1,
What a smashing account of yr adventures! After reading yr description, I yearn to see the Montg’y memorial and the Memphis museum.
A couple of comments:
Montgomery state capitol has been under construction for years, I’m amazed it still is. My favorite recollection of said capitol is circa 1961, when I was there. Within the cupola is a huge mural titled “The Happy Years,” depicting jolly slaves grinning with pleasure as they tote bales of things. I’ve always wanted a photo of the mural—or a series of photos, as it goes all round the inside of the cupola; but there aren’t any. No picture postcards, and by the time I got round to asking friends to go & take photos, the bloody thing was offlimits to the public as undergoing repairs.
Money, Mississippi: I can still see in memory a Life mag. spread showing laughing murderers of Emmett Till73 & their companions after they were freed by an all-white jury…. There was a most ghastly book called “Against Our Will” by a then super-Feminist, Susan Brownmiller.74 It’s more or less a history of the world told in terms of rape. S. Brownmiller wrote that when she first heard about the Till murder she was horrified; but on second thoughts, she decided that a wolf-whistle is after all a form of verbal rape, so perhaps he had it coming to him. I’ve always hoped to meet her one day to give her a piece of my mind—or better yet, now I’ve got my stout walking stick, a bit of a clobbering….
Porn: well—you caught me out, in a way. After I’ve advanced my cogent ist Am. arguments against censoring porn, people always say “so what about censoring racist, inflammatory remarks?”; To which I answer, “That’s totally different. Sorry, I’ve got to leave—see you later….” Or if the argument is on the phone: “Sorry, somebody’s at the door, I’ve got to hang up.” By the way—the porn/great lit. debate is a bit abstract. To be absolutely truthful, when I was about 12 I read Lady Chatterley’s Lover (having smuggled a copy in from Paris) but, I regret to say, purely for its prurient aspects as I was longing to know WHAT HAPPENS. (Smuggling was easy for a neatly dressed, polite little girl as Grandec once was.)
Yr. Loving Grandec
To Arthur Lubow
Oakland
August 21, 1992
Arthur—a few thoughts for today’s meeting….
Debo’s notion of me as a sort of dinosaur of the Left—hanging on as an old unreconstructed Stalinist—is, it seems to me, contradicted by my actual life over at least the last 30 yrs. But you’d be a better judge of that, having been obliged in Line of Duty to read all my wretched books!
The point about Debo (aside from the fact I doubt if she’s read any of my bks except for Grace Darling & possibly Faces of Philip) is that while she’s a Tory by nature, she’s essentially a-political, takes no interest in either side as far as noting what’s happening in the world outside Chatsworth. Anyway, by mutual consent we NEVER discuss politics—it wld be quite fruitless by any measure. She did once vouchsafe that she greatly admires Mrs. Thatcher’s hairdo; she was sitting behind her one day & thought it was extremely well done. I think that’s the only political discussion we’ve had for many years—or ever.
When Bob & I joined the CP in 1943, its glory days (CIO organizing, 1934 SF General Strike etc) were long over. However, for us it was the only game in town in terms of civil rights—the liberals, ACLU & NAACP, all fled from onslaught of McCarthyism.75 Enough of that bosh as it’s pretty much all in A Fine Old Conflict.
But that’s what I meant the other day when I said that one’s political outlook is mostly a product of the situation in the country where one is living.
Decca
To Shana Alexander
Oakland
December 4, 1992
Shana—it WORKED, at least I think it did.76 The bit of paper disappeared into a sort of pit like place—the encouraging word SENDING on the screen. Enough of this blather. To explain how I got this amazing thing:
To my extreme delight, BBC are making a documentary of me bk as a part of their BIRTHNIGHT theme program. … So BBC requires FAX for them to be sending bits of script from hither to yon.
(later—Friday a.m., 4 December) YOUR ANSWER arrived! Oh it’s a miracle….
The Maya or rather Dr. Angelou news77 …I’ve been in touch with her (she’s one of my FAX pals) but a day or two before the news…. Catty thoughts: mine dwell on our erstwhile really serious row over the Clarence Thomas business (I’m sure I inflicted all that on you at the time???)—we patched it up, thank goodness as I do cherish her friendship. However, then she went to the Bush Black History event at White House…. However, I never discussed the White House thing with Maya—fearing another onset of non-speakers.78 …
[E]nd of FAX, much love … Decca
To Mary Clemmey
Oakland
December 22, 1992
Dearest Mary,
You are a wicked old soul, & so is Michael Davie,79 for leaving that tantalizing message on my machine about Diana Mosley’s review and NOT SENDING me the review. PLEASE DO SO PRONTO, or tell Michael …
I was away when you (or Michael) phoned here, in thrall to the BBC who are doing a documentary of me birth bk—to my extreme pleasure, needless to say. The two who came out here are Liesel Evans, researcher, and Steve Ruggi, director. I love them, they are incredibly young, dashing, enthusiastic & clever
Needless to say they are entranced by things like the Empathy Belly & the Uterine University80 —I kept having to rein them in to get to the real point of the book. With some success, I hope & believe: they interviewed midwives, Good & Bad doctors etc. But they did make me go all the way to Seattle just for the Emp. Belly which was much fun. Also, you shld SEE the way they got into hospitals. Visualize me in a tiny hosp. room, other occupants being a woman ¼ way through pregnancy & her doctor, who was doing Ultrasound. Plus, however, three TV technicians (camera/sound man/& the bloke who does CUT) and Steve, Director. Why did the doc. & the preg. lady agree? Because people love being on telly, I guess. Worse yet, the others (sans me) filmed a Caesarian, can you beat it. I wasn’t there, so missed the director saying “Cut!” or if it was twins, “Take Two!” at appropriate moments during the operation. And, I wondered, what if something went wrong (as it always did, when I was on film) such as helicopter overhead, or camera man ran out of film? Did they insist on the Dr. putting the baby back for a re-take? I didn’t dare ask….
Merry Xmas, tons of love, Decca
PLEASE FAX BACK as soon as possible.
To Maya Angelou
Oakland
December 31, 1992
Dearest Maya,
I was incredibly pleased to have a word with you the other day
[T]he agonizing over the poem.81 I knew that wld be the case, I mean how cld it be otherwise? …
At one point, you bemoaned the fact that sayings like “Beauty is truth, truth beauty” keep creeping into your mind as you toss & turn—or Langston Hughes-isms, so that all sounds trite or semi-plagiarized. Idea: Spend some solid time re-reading every single one of your own poems. Simply read over each poem as though you were someone who was reading them for the first time—not as the author. Perhaps, if you did this, the unique Maya rhythm—or rather I shld say series of rhythms, as you vary everything depending on subject, and many of yr phrases within the poems may seem v. apt. Not, obviously, that you’ll repeat them, but just be inspired by YOUR work not somebody else’s.
Enough of that blather. That suggestion comes from my own experience as a lowly scribbler of journalism. Often, when I’m totally bogged down & can’t think of how to write the next para, I get a certain solace from re-reading something in a long-ago bk—makes me think Oh! So I can write, after all?
KIT (short for Keep In Touch) dearest Maya. I know you are swamped, but still crave the occasional wave of the hand from you.
Fondest love, Decca
To Judith Martin82 Oakland
January 6, 1993
Dear Miss Manners,
Last April you very kindly agreed to be my etiquette consultant.83
I need your advice rather urgently. To explain: I’ve just got a FAX machine, and have been sending out lots of letters on it. One of my sisters in England also has FAX (much to my amazement) so naturally I sent her one straight away. I was surprised that she didn’t answer by return—hers came the next day. However, she did say that she was in London when mine arrived, hence delay. Which brings me to the point: What is an answer “by return” in the case of FAX?
For a letter, it’s simple; one should answer if possible by return of post. From California, where I live, to England letters take a minimum of 4 days, often much longer, so one is fairly safe in allowing a week or so before answering. One has had it dinned into one since childhood that if you get a letter from somebody, you should answer within a week—or max. two weeks. Anything later requires an apology, or rather an excuse even if untrue (“awfully sorry for late answer—I just got back from Alaska/Timbuctoo/etc,” depending on lateness).
With FAX, should one answer within the hour? Or even 15 minutes, given the speediness of transmittal?
Perhaps every new technology requires some re-thinking of the correct response. For example, telegrams (which you are probably too young to remember) almost always had bad news; as they were jolly expensive, the answer was simple, such as “Desperately sorry. Mitford,” only 3 words. Or if it was just a broken limb, not a death: “Rotten luck. Mitford.” Again, only 3 words; ample, at a shilling a word.
Eagerly awaiting your response. It’s now about 1:30 p.m., Wednesday. I’m sitting by my FAX machine.84
Yours sincerely, Jessica Mitford
To Maya Angelou
Oakland
January 21, 1993
Dearest M.,
I was SO distraught at missing yr phone call day before Inaugural. Dink rang, said you’d been trying to reach me—it was the one day in history when the blasted answering machine was on the blink.
Forward to the Main Event. Of course we knew it wld be magnifique—but hadn’t realized just HOW marvellous, what a peak experience, it wld be.
We’ve taped it (natch) & played it over & over; and today the whole poem was in the SF Chronicle.
When you read it over the phone for “shape,” sort of in embryo, I cld see that it was going to be YOUR stride, a total Maya production. Absolutely & unequivocably smashing….
Yr loving Decca
To various friends
Oakland
February 1, 1993
Re: This Side of Glory by David Hilliard85 & Lewis Cole, Little Brown, 1993. Pages 260–261; fundraiser, featuring Jean Genet, home of Robert Treuhaft & Jessica Mitford.
My recollection of this event is very different from David Hilliard’s. As it took place more than 20 years ago, I’m sending my account—and Bob’s—to various people who were there. I should much appreciate your comments on what precisely did happen that evening. Just an effort to reconstruct a minuscule slice of history. Here goes with what Bob & I remember:
To start at the beginning, I got a call from David Hilliard on a Friday. He said “we’ve got this cat Jean Genet here, he’s willing to speak for us, we’d like to have a fundraiser at your house on Sunday.” I said we’d be pleased & honored to put on a bash for Jean Genet to raise money for the Panthers—who should we invite? All the intellectuals in the Bay Area! said Hilliard, expansively. I said this was a rather tall order to organize in two days, but I’d try. So I started phoning around to say that this cat Jean Genet is coming on Sunday etc. etc. We put on lots of food & half-gallons of wine—turn-out was no problem. At its height, the party was wall-to-wall people throughout the house.
David & a few other Panthers arrived early, and stationed themselves in a row on a large sofa in the sitting-room. Cat Genet came—with Charles Garry, I think, and an interpreter furnished by Ramparts for his speech. I said to him in French, “what do you think of this large crowd, M. Genet? Are you pleased?”; To which he replied, “All people are nice—until we start talking politics.” Prophetic words, as it turned out.
Genet is a short man, so Bob got a step-ladder for him to stand on so that his speech could be heard and seen to maximum effect through the sitting/dining room part of the house. He spoke eloquently and passionately about racism in the United States and his reason for coming to speak in support of the Panthers, all excellently translated by the Ramparts interpreter. Contrary to David Hilliard’s account, Tom Hayden never tried to muscle in.86 He was sitting listening, like the rest of us. Question period, after Genet’s talk. Somebody got up from the floor (actually sitting on the floor, with myriad others)… [a] professor or instructor at UC, or SF State?—Anyway, he asked a rather stupid question along the lines of “M. Genet—what do you think we should do?”; So Genet, quite rightly in my view, launched into a furious attack against the questioner. “I’m from France, this is YOUR country, and YOU ask ME how to counteract racism in America? Asinine! That’s YOUR job …” a tirade, well deserved I thought. Tension rose perceptibly.
At this point David Hilliard, in Bob’s view not to be outdone in super-militancy, started baiting Tom Hayden. He was saying to Tom (who had been silent up to this point), “Come on, Tom, tell us how you betrayed comrade Bobby Seale when he was handcuffed etc.”87 Tom Hayden said he didn’t want to speak. David kept at him. Eventually Tom got up on the stepladder & made a short speech about evils of racism, suggested that the subject shld be taught in teach-ins similar to the anti-Vietnam war [protests].
Tensions were up many notches. David kept baiting, Tom Hayden was conciliatory—situation explosive.
Dan Siegel,88 who was also sitting on the floor, got up with hands upraised—saying “Cool it” or some such phrase. Or perhaps he didn’t say anything. In any case, David Hilliard saw his hand-gesture as a threat. He picked up an empty half-gallon jug & tossed it at Dan—or prepared to toss it. Luckily for all, somehow the weapon slipped out of his hand and fell on the head of Michael McClure’s89 little daughter, who ran shrieking to her daddy. Far from the Hilliard account that the bottle “glances a kid’s leg,” it hit her square on the forehead, Bob saw the little girl crying & unfortunately told her to shut up—not having seen what actually happened. As M. McClure said afterwards, “It’s always the children who get hurt in wars” (my paraphrase as I haven’t got a text for this true statement).
Now it was my turn to mount the stepladder to say something along the lines of Thank you all for coming, the party is now over, do come back soon—and similar hostessish sounds. I led them all away, & walked down with J. Genet—who had clearly loved the whole evening, compounded as it was with race & violence, his favorite subjects.
