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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