[A hilarious impersonation of an American dowager followed, his voice taking on a sporadic, contrived “English” inflection] “By the time Neal was with the Pranksters, he just wanted to die. The trouble was, he no longer believed in suicide. His religion was against it. So he rolled busses, he kept ‘rolling’ busses. I told Kesey it was terrible what was going on but he didn’t want to hear it — Kesey stopped talking to me. They all stopped talking to me, heaven knows why. One day Neal showed up at my house without shoes, looking dreadful. I said, ‘Why are you still with Kesey?’ and Neal said, ‘Honey, people look at me and expect me to perform.’
“Allen was very close to my son. And Allen was lovely — for a time. But around 10 years before he died, he decided he wanted nothing to do with me. We named my son John Allen, after Jack and Allen. When John was a boy, he loved playing with Allen. When Allen was dying, John asked me what he should do because it’d been quite some time since they’d spoken. I said, ‘Call him!’ So John did and the person on the other end said, ‘You know, Allen would have loved to talk to you but he’s in a coma now.’ I’d go see Allen before he decided not to talk to me, he was in London all the time. He’d come for a reading or to do this or that, see one person or the other, and I’d go see him whenever he needed a pair of hands—he loved applause. He even went to Venice on a stretcher because they were giving him some kind of an award. As long as Allen was being honored, he’d show up! I told him years ago, if you can’t learn to accept the plaudits for what they are, it’ll never be enough, you’ll never be able to get enough praise. Right up to the end he thought he was worthless. He thought he was worthless when he was young, and he thought as much right before he died.
“Ferlinghetti decided to dislike me because I said his manager was ripping him off. He didn’t want to hear that. I was owed a lot of money and they finally paid something, like $500—they wrote me a check. I told him the fellow was stealing from him, but he liked the fellow and didn’t want to hear it. He’s got a different manager now. [He pretended I’d asked him a question] What do I think of whom? Joyce Johnson? Oh, her.3 She’s, well—ugh—I won’t get into that. They’re all whores and hangers-on. They slept with Jack once and all of them want to write about it. [Again, he pretended to be engaged by an invisible interlocutor] Who? Oh! That one always liked Burroughs — which probably explained why he stopped talking to me, and why I stayed away.”
They all seemed to stay away from Dame Fag Hag Iron Lady! I’m really channeling that cunt… What else did we talk about? Allen Ginsberg’s visit to Ezra Pound in Italy — Ginsberg and Pound must have been hungry for a pair of hands, no doubt! And Peter Ackroyd. I’m not sure how Mr. Ackroyd came up, but dear Carolyn had an opinion!
“Oh yes, he’s a wonderful biographer. I used to stay in his house in London whenever I was in the city. He’s written some marvelous books — the big one about Dickens — that’s the one he’s known for — I haven’t read the last few — he stopped drinking and now he’s so fat. We don’t talk anymore, I used to know why, but I can’t remember just now. Don’t care, really…
“Joyce Johnson and I do not speak. She’s jealous! My God, how those women lived! Sleeping around — with anyone. I never did that—
“The fact is, I never liked most of their writing much — the Beats—none of them—never did. Jack wrote a few good ones. But you see, I went to Bennington. I was a discerning reader. I was disciplined, I had a classical education. Do you know that’s what Neal was seeking? Classicism and a traditional life. He wanted respectability. That was how he wanted to live and we did that. Neal was able to get along with people of all classes. And I had respectable friends. That was all Neal really wanted. Neal never had a mother. That’s what he was looking for in me.
“I make good money now, they come and pick my house clean as a bone! I call them the ‘Archive People.’ The Archive People come and comb. And wow, do they know what they’re looking for. In one of my memoirs, I wrote about a book Jack liked, by Sri Au — Sri Audi-something — like the car — no, hold on, let me look… I’ve got one of his over here somewhere—Sri Aurobindo. I don’t know what the ‘Sri’ is all about, maybe it’s supposed to be ‘sir’ but someone got dyslexic. He was a sage, from India, one of those holy men who appealed to Jack. I wrote somewhere that Jack made notes in the margins of books — even I forgot, but the Archive People didn’t! They asked me if I still had it and I said I didn’t know so they came over and we looked, and they found it. O there’s quite a market! I sold a sticker, and this was a tiny ‘Can You Pass the Acid Test?’ signed by Neal, I think I got 75,000 after commission. You know, that was the little diploma they used to give… or maybe I got the 75 before commission. Gave it all to my son, told him to use it, because he was destitute. Don’t wait till I’m dead, I told him. See, he’s out there selling cars and no one’s buying.
“My money manager invests everything and my account is getting fat. There’s a Swedish rock star, the Elvis of his country. A friend told me she’d been to one of his concerts. She said that, behind him, right onstage, was an enormous picture of yours truly. Because this Swedish Elvis was influenced by Jack and everybody and even wrote some books, about ten, that became bestsellers over there. My friend saw that picture and said, ‘Carolyn, you should be making money off that.’ So I rang up the singer and said, ‘You need to pay me NOW.’ So we made a deal where he printed up a few hundred of these things and we both signed them and I’d get the money. But he was dragging his feet. I looked at his schedule and said, ‘Well I see you’re going to be in Stockholm. Wouldn’t that be a good place to meet up?’ So we did. And while we’re signing the posters, he asked if I wanted to go to his concert — they’re booked for years in advance — and I said, ‘Sure, can I bring a few friends?’ I wound up bringing a whole crowd! He announced me from the stage. There I was in the VIP section and 25,000 people roared and turned their heads to look at me. I asked my friend if she got a picture of all those people’s heads turning and she said, ‘No, Carolyn, I was taking a picture of you.’ The next day I was told that when it was announced that I was in the stadium, it was like some kind of religious experience for the audience. I said, ‘Well, if it was a religious experience for them, what do you think it was like for me?’ Anyway, we signed the posters but I started to think those things were probably going to take a long time to sell. I mentioned that to the Swedish Elvis and he told me to ring up his man, to settle the accounts. When I got the fellow on the line, he said, ‘Would you like it all in one? Or in two?’ One lump or two. I said, ‘Let me have it all in one.’ They cut me a check right there, for 18,000 pounds. O, the world is having a tough time, but not me!