Donnerstag, 15. Juni 2006
I always wanted to write about Denham Fouts. Truman Capote called him "the best kept boy in the world"; Gore Vidal, an "Homme fatal"; Christopher Isherwood, "Satan". He was an improbable literary muse ("Sophie" in Maugham's The Razor's Edge), and a male courtesan who bewitched both sexes, had a scorpion tattooed on his groin and body odour so divine that people fought over his handkerchiefs. His benefactors ranged from King Paul of the Hellenes to a multi-millionaire guano importer. Even Dylan Thomas found him "very beautiful" and Aldous Huxley confessed to dreaming about him. He died on a lavatory seat in Rome aged 34. What a story. Except that none of it is true.
(Robin Muir, Curator. "The Book I wish I'd written". Vogue, ca. 2005.)
