(1970), as self-destruction and disintegrationrnfollowed hard on the heels of success.rnIt was a good book, well written andrnwell reported. He told a moving storyrnfrom his point of view. His portrait ofrnyou, warts and all, anticipates and mufflesrnat least some of the aftershocks thatrnwill inevitably follow Hart’s more objectivernand thorough biography. Chris’srnbook may help people to understandrnyour story and better appreciate whatrnHart has done.rnThings have been pretty busy sincernyour death (January 19, 1997). Thernprimary texts have been put together inrnJames JDickey: The Selected Poems (Wesleyan,rn1998), edited by Robert Kirschten;rnand in The James Dickey Reader, editedrnby biographer Henry Hart (and dedicatedrnto your literary executor Matthew J.rnBruccoli), including representative selectionsrnof your poetry, fiction, essays, andrncriticism. Also published in 1999 wasrnJames Dickey, the 19th volume of thernDocumentary Series of the Dictionary ofrnLiterary Biography, edited by Judith S.rnBaughman. Matthew J. Bruccoli andrnMiss Baughman are the editors of Crux;rnThe Letters of James Dickey. Usingrnroughly 20 percent of the available letters,rnthe book adheres to the twofold logicrnof Bruccoli’s assembly:rnThe double rationale for selectionrnwas first to document the growth ofrna major writer.. . then, second torndocimient the ways he fulfilled hisrngenius and advanced his career.rnJim was unabashedly a careerist.rnBruccoli is putting it nicely. What comesrnacross in these letters is the portrait of arnhard-driving literary hustler and conrnman, perfectly willing to say or to do almostrnanything to advance himself and tornpromote and enhance his public image.rnThe evidence is right there, even in thisrnmildly sanitized version, Jim, that yournwere willing to bootlick and ass-kiss anyrnother poets, critics and reviewers, agentsrnand editors, whenever deemed necessary,rnto embrace your enemies and betray oldrnfriends, in the constant search for jobs,rnfellowships, prizes, and awards, betterrndeals with better publishers! Book reviewersrnmade a good deal, maybe toornmuch out of this. In the New York Timesrn(“One Poet’s Prosaic Correspondence,”rnDecember 10, 1999) Michiko Kakutanirnopines that “a distressingly large portionrnis devoted to poetic politics; to snide putdownsrnof other poets, insider talk aboutrnprizes and fellowships, and catty remarksrnabout rival cliques and claques.” Similarly,rnpoet and editor J.D. McClatchyrn(New York Times Book Review, Decemberrn19, 1999) assumes, in the trendy contemporaryrnmanner, a stance of highrnmorality: “But most of the book is consumedrnby Dickey’s literary resentmentsrnand intrigues, betrayals and backbiting.rnIt’s a sad and off-putting spectacle.”rnBut negative reviews to the contrary,rnthe letters in Crux, together with otherrnletters quoted in Hart’s biography, don’trnexpose you as a carnival pitchman. Instead,rnthey illustrate a shameful and ongoingrnperiod in our cultural history whenrneven our poets, some of the best of them,rnwere infected with the insidious virus ofrncelebrity, aspiring to be elevated to thatrnnew American nobility of celebrity rockand-rnrollers, slam-dunkers, breakdancers,rnand gangsta-rappers, a time when poets ofrnseveral generations began to behave likernpacks of feral dogs, growling and snarlingrnat each other, or submissively waggingrntheir tails, in savage, unrelenting competifionrnfor crumbs and thin bones on therncultural garbage heap. You played thernsame game, from first to last, and yournwere better at it than most of the poets ofrnyour own generation. (You were a betterrnpoet than most of them, too.) You didrnnot invent the game, but you certainlyrnmastered it. One of the funniest scamsrnyou ran had to do with John Hall Wheelock’srnPoets of Today series (Scribner’s),rnwhich published three first books boundrntogether in a single volume. That is howrnyour first book, Into the Stone, was published.rnBut before that, you spent timernflattering and honoring Wheelock whilernsimultaneously bad-mouthing the series,rnin letters to several young poets, cleverlyrndiscouraging the competition.rnIt’s a pleasure to watch how easily andrndeftly you could handle those guys.rnWhat a bunch of jerks!rnOnce, you and I had a serious talkrnabout careerism and hustling. You saidrnthat, by dint of dedication and hard labor,rnwe were sometimes given the gloriousrngift of maybe half a dozen poems (or storiesrnor novels) that were touched withrngreatness. You said it was our boundenrnduty to be faithful to those gifts; that wernmust not allow what we had been givenrnto disappear; that to be faithful we mustrnbe willing to take any risk, to do anything,rnnot for the sake of ourselves and our largernor small careers, but for the sake of whatrnwe had been given.rnLooking at the younger poets comingrnalong behind you, the young and the restless,rnI think you might be tioubled by thernway things have gone. Even in our deepestrncynical moments of disillusion, Irndon’t think we could (or would) havernimagined a generation of poets whornwould squander their modest gifts, devotingrnthemselves not to the discipline ofrncontemplation or to creative art, butrnrather to crude manipulations and tornshameless, ruthless self-aggrandizement.rnNames? You and I know who they are.rnLet interested readers examine the indexrnand read the letters of Crux. Let themrnread Henry Hart’s excellent biography—rnJames Dickey: The World as a Lie.rnHart’s biography is a long one, 811rnpages, and it is going to bother a lot ofrnpeople. (It may even trouble you, Jim,rnthough I doubt it.) Has bothered somernpeople already, well before publication.rnYour old buddy (and mine) Bill Starr ofrnColumbia’s The State reacted with shockrnand surprise (“Brutal biography may joltrndevotees of Dickey’s work,” February 15,rn2000). Bill doesn’t criticize or quarrelrnwith Hart’s biography. But he is deeplyrntroubled by the revealed content of yourrnlife:rnHart’s biography, subtitled “ThernLife and Lies of a Poet” [sic], chartsrnDickey’s banal self-absorption andrnLIBERAL ARTSrnSTOP ME BEFORErnI SHOP AGAINrn”Compulsive buying is finally comingrnout of the closet. Although thernstudy of this phenomenon is still inrnrelative infancy compared withrnsome of its psychological siblings —rnalcoholism, eating disorders, orrndrug abuse, for example—there isrn. . . evidence that it poses a seriousrnand worsening problem with significantrnemotional, social, occupational,rnand financial consequences.rn. . . This collection [addresses] thernbiological, sociological, psychological,rnand spiritual issues that arernbound up with compulsive buying,”rn—from a press release for I Shop,rnTherefore I Am: CompulsivernBuying and the Search for Selfrnby April Lane Benson, Ph.D.rnJULY 2000/25rnrnrn