Born in New Orleans in 1924, Truman Capote wrote his first fiction at the age of eight. Or so he claimed. Rarely has a writer so elaborated his own legend; not only could Capote make the wildest nonsense about himself credible, he encouraged others to add to it. Drink was no doubt partly to blame. Close friends have described Capote as a ferocious malcontent, free-wheeling to self-destruction with the help of bourbon and barbiturates. The addictions finally got the better of the novelist in 1984, however, when he died of alcohol-related complications; he was a few weeks short of his 60th birthday.
Oddly, for such a self-publicist, Capote kept quiet about the novel he wrote at the age of 19, Summer Crossing. His decision to disown the book, moreover, is perplexing, as it’s a remarkably assured, often brilliant slice of juvenilia.
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