Monday, July 21, 2014

Lighten the Fuck Up, Harper Lee

Today is Harper Lee's 85th birthday, and while she's famous for being a recluse, not having given a public interview in 45 years (even staying away from THIS GUY!), I hope she realizes that at 85 there's not a lot of time left and really needs to get moving if she and John Grisham are ever gonna get together and give us A Time to Kill a Mockingbird. - XMASTIME
Vulture on the decline of Harper Lee:
It wasn’t just infirmity that kept Nelle from basking in those 2010 celebrations; it was disillusion. Allergic to both attention and commerce, she’d always found the Mockingbird-industrial complex tacky and intrusive, but had managed to carve out a separate existence in its shadow. Now, too many “well wishers” were stopping by her new apartment—including her literary agent, whom she eventually barred from the facility. 
I've never read anything other than Lee has always been a needlessly freakishly-reclusive person who greatly resented people for appreciating her (one) work - she reminds me of this about George Harrison:
Finally, the film really never investigates the real mystery of Harrison: What was he so morose about?...Harrison... has always had a sense of the aggrieved about him. I just don't know what the source of it was. In Harrison's mini-autobiography at the front of I Me Mine, the unasked-for collection of his song lyrics, he seems mostly unhappy about … the travel indignities he suffered during the Beatles years.
In other words, lighten the fuck up, Harper.

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