A very short memory of Cormac McCarthy

I did not know him  well, but  I respected him,  as a writer and a human . I had met his his brother,   Denis Michael, through the surreal gun dealer Mike Evans, before I ever met Cormac.

My visits were mundane and probably boring to a literary bystander- drinks at his favorite table in  Sant fe. We mostly talked high falconry- he had a real, intelligent curioisity about the subject and more knowledge than most . He could be brusque, but not to me. I was diving into a rather baroque interpretation of Shakespeare’s ‘Hawk for a handsaw’ trope, that involved everything from the angle of light to the age of the birds, and Dennis said ” Dont you think thats unnecessarily elaborate?

Meaning  of course, total bullshit , which it more or less was, though I could defend it- I mean, how often do you get to talk about   haut volerie with Cormac  McCarthy?

But Denns- who is  no fool, and a  a biologist AND a lawyer, as is his wife!-  would not back down until Cormac said    “:Shut up Dennis- Steve knows what he is talking about!” Dennis subisided, but not without a complicit  grin.

Another time he gave  me status in a good bookstore.  W were both browsing in the dark stacks when Nick called me me over to meet him, and he said no need for introductions-we had lunch together last week”

As we Boston Irish say, a gentleman and a scholar

1 comment

  1. Glad to see your writing again even if its an obit of another great author. Cormac so wonderful grime.

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