A Book of Ages by Eric Hanson - Excerpt
A Book of Ages by Eric Hanson - Excerpt
A Book of Ages by Eric Hanson - Excerpt
A Book of AGES
a n e c c e n t r ic m i s c e l l a n y of
in t he live s of t he famous
E R I C H A N S O N
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Hanson, Eric.
A book of ages: an eccentric miscellany of great and offbeat moments
in the lives of the famous and infamous, ages 1 to 100 /
Eric Hanson.
1. Celebrities—Biography—Miscellanea.
2. Celebrities—Biography—Anecdotes. I. Title.
CT105.H256 2008
920.02—dc22 2008012631
ISBN 978-0-307-40902-7
1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
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Preface
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viii / Preface
Around the time my own first novel wasn’t being published, this
too-clever gift of Keats and Shelley and Crane gave me an idea. I began
collecting data and writing it down. Who had done what in their tenth,
their eleventh, their twentieth, their thirty-ninth year? I scribbled notes
in the margins of articles I was writing, on the endpapers of books I was
reading. The fragments of other writers’ lives, but not only writers’.
Lives of artists, composers, boxers, and quarterbacks, all the celebrated
dead, accumulated like a kind of poetry. As I assembled the entries year
by year, it seemed as if they were all swimming together in the same
stream. That was the point.
I began by going through the standard literary references. I read
diaries and collected letters. I read biographies. I bought a dictionary of
biographies and books of obituaries. I clipped obits from the papers. I
took notes. My favorite sources of all were the various anthologies of
anecdotes—sports, political, military, literary, royal, theatrical. Often
it isn’t the accomplishments that define a life, but the stories people tell
about their contemporaries, the gossip and the scandal.
Years passed and my collection grew, and as it grew a curious thing
happened: the entries and the people in them developed a conversation
among themselves. Juxtaposed lives began commenting on one
another. What intrigues me is the simple fact of people doing things or
not doing them, succeeding and failing, living forever and dying
young—not along some infinite timeline but simultaneously, as if
everybody who ever lived were a contemporary and lived cheek by
jowl.
In a way, I am there with them, as are we all, in our own years of
life, looking backward, looking forward, not as young as the phenome-
nal Mozart or as old as Noah. This book is the product of more than a
decade of reading and sorting and writing things down. I suggest you
do what everyone else will do—that is, turn to the age that you are
now. After that you are on your own. Leaf through it at random. Look
at the year that you remember most vividly. Or start at the beginning.
Even as crowded and selective a canvas as this one does have a plot to it.
Jot your own story in the margin.
E RIC H ANSON
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One
}
Parents who want a fresh point of view on their furniture are
advised to drop down on all fours and accompany the nine or
ten month old on his rounds. It is probably many years since
you last studied the underside of a dining room chair. The ten
month old will study this marvel with as much concentration
and reverence as a tourist in the Cathedral of Chartres.
—Selma H. Fraiberg, The Magic Years (1959)
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Ten
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I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty,
or that youth would sleep out the rest; for there is nothing in
the between but getting wenches with child, wronging the
ancientry, stealing, fighting.
—William Shakespeare, The Winter’s Tale (1610)
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Twenty
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What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure;
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
—William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night (1600)
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Thirty
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Thirty—the promise of a decade of loneliness, a thinning list
of single men to know, a thinning brief-case of enthusiasm,
thinning hair.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)
Saul of Tarsus has a change of heart on the road to Damascus, a.d. 35.
He sets out from Jerusalem with orders from the high priest to arrest
the Christians living in Damascus, but along the way God speaks to
him out of a thunderstorm. Saul becomes a Christian and changes his
name to Paul.
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f orty
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I am in my prime.
—Muriel Spark, The Prime of
Miss Jean Brodie (1961)
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f if ty
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There is a tide in the affairs of men,
Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
—William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar (1599)
Gustav Mahler has only a year left to live when he consults fellow
Viennese Sigmund Freud about “a little problem,” 1910. Freud deter-
mines that the composer’s impotence is caused by a mother fixation,
which dovetails neatly with Mrs. Mahler’s father complex.
Pol Pot’s army takes power in Cambodia, 1975. Within a year his
government will begin its program of violent reforms, abolishing cur-
rency, religion, and private property. Millions will be forced from the
cities to work in the fields. A Western journalist who has met Pol Pot
describes him as “elegant, with a pleasing smile and delicate, alert eyes.”
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Sixty
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The world is the house of the strong. I shall not know until the
end what I have lost or won in this place, in this vast
gambling den where I have spent more than sixty years, dice-
box in hand, shaking the dice.
—Denis Diderot, Elements of Physiology
(1774–80)
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Seventy
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If you find that you can’t make seventy by any but an uncom-
fortable road, don’t you go. When they take off the Pullman
and retire you to the rancid smoker, put off your things, count
your checks, and get out at the first way station where there’s a
cemetery.
—Mark Twain (1835–1910)
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Eighty
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Can’t you see I’m dreaming?
In a dream you are never eighty.
—Anne Sexton, “Old” (1928–74)
Poet Marianne Moore throws out the first ball at the Yankees
opener, 1968.
Beat novelist William S. Burroughs does a television commercial
for Nike, 1994.
Queen Elizabeth II has outlasted four Archbishops of Canterbury,
2006.
In January 2000 a portrait of author Doris Lessing is hung in the
National Portrait Gallery in London. The government offers to make
her a Dame of the British Empire, but she refuses on the grounds there
isn’t a British Empire anymore. She says being “a dame” is “a bit pan-
tomimey” anyway.
Victor Hugo’s birthday is celebrated as a national holiday in France,
1882.
Count Leo Tolstoy rewrites his will, leaving the copyrights to all of
his books to the public, 1908. His family isn’t happy when they find
out about this. He also says he wants to be buried in the Zakaz Forest.
A lfred, Lord Tennyson writes “Crossing the Bar,” 1889.
Sigmund Freud receives birthday cards from James Joyce, Virginia
Woolf, Pablo Picasso, Albert Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, H. G. Wells,
and others, 1936.
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Ninety
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I advise you to go on living solely to enrage those who are pay-
ing your annuities.
—Voltaire (1694–1778)
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One Hundred
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I am this month one whole year older than I was this time
twelve-month; and having got . . . almost into the middle of
my fourth volume—and no farther than to my first day’s
life—’tis demonstrative that I have three hundred and sixty-
four days more life to write just now, than when I first set
out . . . write as I will . . . I shall never overtake myself . . .
At the worst I shall have one day the start of my pen—and one
day is enough for two volumes—and two volumes will be
enough for one year.
—Laurence Sterne, The Life and Opinions of
Tristram Shandy, Gentleman (1759–67)
Elizabeth, the queen mother, still walks her dogs for twenty minutes
three times a day, 2000.
Comedian Bob Hope dies on July 27, 2003.
Moses is still wandering with the Jewish people in the wilderness,
1425 b.c. He will never arrive in the Promised Land, but he will see it
from a distance.
Ida May Fuller, a classmate of Calvin Coolidge and the first person
to receive Social Security in 1940, is still living in Ludlow, Vermont,
1974. She will die in 1975. In thirty-five years of retirement, her Social
Security benefits will total $22,888.92. A nice return. Miss Fuller paid
in $24.75 during the last three years of her working life. She was a life-
long Republican and never thought much of the New Deal.
Irving Berlin lives very quietly in his New York City apartment,
avoiding the public eye, 1988. He still cannot read or write music and
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can only play in one key, F-sharp. He prefers playing only the black
keys.
George Burns dies on March 9, 1996. He once observed that it was
“too bad that all the people who know how to run the country are busy
driving taxi-cabs and cutting hair.”
In January 1967, thirty-five years after the author’s death, John
Galsworthy’s The Forsyte Saga begins its broadcast run on BBC-TV.
Despite being in black and white, it is the most expensive television
production yet made, inaugurating a whole new television format
called the miniseries. In America it is the initial selection of the pro-
gram Masterpiece Theatre on PBS.
Dr. Albert Hofmann celebrates his one hundredth birthday, 2006.
Seven decades after he invented LSD, he claims to have a remarkable
memory but makes no reference to flashbacks.
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A Book of Ages
visit one of these online retailers:
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