Editor's Note

Abstract

Editor's Note Ian D. Copestake To conclude this issue's recognition of Linda Wagner-Martin's contribution to Williams scholarship, Linda was happy to share a record of her meeting with Williams, an event which formed the opening to her 1990 book review of Robert F. Gish's work, William Carlos Williams: A Study of the Short Fiction. Boston: Twayne, 1989, which appeared in the William Carlos Williams Review. 16. 2 (Fall 1990): 73–75. In the spirit of Williams's own efforts to humanise history, the review opens with the following account of Linda's meeting with Williams only weeks before his death, which stands out not least because, as Linda remarked, "[e]ven when he could scarcely speak, WCW made himself understood." ________ I have very few corrections to make to Robert F. Gish's graceful and comprehensive study of Williams's short fiction, except for his summary description of the writer's last months. Gish says that after a series of debilitating strokes, Williams was "in his final months unable to write or read or talk." Williams died on March 3, 1963. It was my great good fortune to have been invited to dinner with the Williamses in late January of that year. With the audacity of the naive graduate student, I had sent Mrs. Williams a copy of my dissertation on Williams's short poems. She had read the copy—a fifth carbon—to him and then wrote, asking me to come to see them. So on a January weekend my spouse and I drove from central Ohio to Rutherford and had Saturday dinner with the couple. It was, as could be expected, one of life's high points. Williams was sitting in the living room when we arrived, his smaller than expected figure propped on couch cushions. He looked frail, but even [End Page 45] though his speech was halting, there was no mistaking what he wanted to convey. Sometimes Flossie would complete a sentence for him, but more often he would get the words out himself; sometimes he would use his hands and end his meaning with a gesture; sometimes he would simply laugh. But he made his wishes and thoughts known so well that we never thought of him as incapacitated. He was visibly affectionate toward Stormy, his Sheltie, and toward us, strangers from the midwest; he seemed completely natural, telling jokes, recounting stories, settling back into his seat with the mood of someone who was poised to enjoy the coming hours. Several times during the evening he sat next to me and took my hand, and once said kindly that he would trust me with anything he had. He generously approved of the thesis, generously included my spouse and me in his reminiscence and gossip about such friends as Denise Levertov and Marianne Moore, generously tired himself for the purpose of being in contact with this student who had imposed her work and her ideas onto his last weeks. [End Page 46] Copyright © 2019 The Pennsylvania State University