PAT CONROY: A SOUTHERN
VOICE FOR THE AGES By Bob Vickrey
When best-selling author
Pat Conroy was once asked by his literary agent why there was not more sex in
his novels, he responded, “Because my grandmother is still alive.”
When he told that story
at book signings and speaking events, there was always an eruption of laughter
and applause in the room. Everyone in attendance fully understood the
precarious minefield a writer navigates when it comes to family matters.
Nevertheless, after more
than four decades of writing about family, there are legions of his loyal fans
who would attest to the boldness of his work. His novels, The Great
Santini and The Prince of Tides, were
bothfictionalized chronicles of the tumultuous Conroy family household that
endured the tyrannical behavior of their Marine Corps fighter-pilot husband and
father.
When news of the
author’s recent death was announced, an incredible outpouring of tributes
ensued in the days afterward. Conroy died March 4th in Beaufort, South Carolina
after having been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer several weeks ago. When the
announcement was placed on Facebook shortly after the diagnosis, two million
responses were posted on his site within the first two days.
Pat Conroy’s interest in
writing started early in life as his mom read stories to him and his siblings
when they were growing up. He inherited his gift naturally as he followed in the
great Southern storytelling tradition of Faulkner, Wolfe, Fitzgerald, and
Welty. He continued that long lineage of storytelling about a region that has
produced writers as one of its most precious exportable commodities.
His
imaginatively evocative passages describing South Carolina’s “low
country” captured the
beauty of its scenic marshlands and fragile estuaries that were an integral
part of his
boyhood.
But his prose was
perhaps even more powerful when he described growing up in his fractured
family. Conroy’s fictional stories could hardly conceal the fact that he was
writing about his own tormented childhood. His candid examination of a tortured
upbringing represented a lifelong quest to heal those seemingly indelible scars
of his past.
When the manuscript
of The Prince of Tides first arrived at my doorstep one
evening in 1986, I read into the early morning hours before reluctantly putting
the rest of the bulking stack of pages aside until the following day. I knew
that my friend had been busy working on the novel that would ultimately
transform him into the publishing star he was destined to become, but I wasn’t
quite ready for the force and power that his new book would deliver on such a
personal level. It
mesmerized me like few other books had, and I knew at once that Pat had written
his definitive work.
Back then, I worked for
Houghton Mifflin, the publisher of Conroy’s earliest books, and was responsible
for bookstore sales and promotion in several Southwestern states.
Pat and I had been introduced in Boston when I first joined the publishing firm. The Water is
Wide had just been published and he was in town visiting his editor
and publicist. We went to dinner that evening and talked about how we both had
landed in our various roles at Houghton—he, as a struggling writer, and I, as a
fledgling publisher’s representative who would be promoting his book in my
Southwestern territory.
Our bond was formed as
we both began our new careers. I made the observation during dinner that this
represented the first time someone had paid him to write—and someone had paid
me to read. He responded, “Yes, but not very much.”
Pat Conroy and Bob Vickrey
New Orleans, 1986, Launch of
THE PRINCE OF TIDES
During the promotion
of The Great Santini in 1976, I picked him up at Houston’s Intercontinental
Airport and we headed off to do newspaper interviews and local afternoon talk shows
throughout the Southwest. The book received extensive review attention and
later became a hit movie. By then, everyone in the company realized that we had
a true star in the making.
A decade later, the
company’s initial launch for The Prince of Tides was planned
for the American Booksellers Association meeting in New Orleans. The weekend
culminated with a huge breakfast gathering that featured Conroy and legendary
newsman Walter Cronkite as speakers.
During Cronkite’s eloquent and adoring introduction of Conroy, he said, “It must be a good feeling to be able
to string together those beautiful lovely words in a necklace of incomparable prose.”
He declared his envy of Conroy’s gift of storytelling, but suggested that Pat
had been born with a distinctive advantage of “having been blessed with an
Irish muse.”
Conroy’s impassioned speech
that day inspired the crowd of booksellers, and eventually became part of publishing
lore. He told of his mother’s infinite influence on his career and how her ongoing
encouragement had led him to become the “Southern writer” she had always wanted
him to be. He said, “It is my mother’s voice that I speak in today. It is the
power of her voice that moves me to write. My mother taught me what we all look
for as writers. It is the moment when language and passion and the beauty of
writing all come together.”
Pat Conroy and Mother, Peggy
Conroy’s appearance had
helped successfully launch his most important book to date, and sent
booksellers home spreading the word about his novel like new-born messengers
who had just discovered religion. The Prince of Tides became
the most talked about American novel later that year and eventually spent 51
weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list.
The book also secured his place among the very best contemporary
American writers, and its success created enormous anticipation for each
succeeding book. Beach Music, My Losing Season, South of Broad, and My
Reading Life each resonated with his fans in succeeding decades.
Conroy best summed up his writing life and career when he related the story of his mother’s
final bout with cancer that would ultimately take her life. He described Peggy
Conroy as the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, but in her last days while
suffering from diarrhea and vomiting, had been reduced to a mere 80 pounds.
He said she looked up
from her bed and said, “When you write about me, don’t make me like
this. Promise to make me beautiful again.”
Conroy said “From that
moment on, I loved being a Southern writer.”
He said, “Momma, I’m
going to make you so beautiful. And because you taught me how to be a writer, I
can lift you off that bed and I can set you singing; I can set you dancing; And
I can make you beautiful again for the entire world to see.”
Just before his mother
slipped into a coma, his brothers and sisters sat around her bedside and read
her poetry throughout the night. They sent her off that evening in what Pat
described as a “wave of language.”
Pat Conroy always
believed it is that “wave of language” which binds us together as writers and
readers. Many of us believe he successfully accomplished his mission.
Bob Vickrey is a native
Houstonian. He is a member of the Board of Contributors for the Waco Tribune-Herald
and a regular contributor to the Boryana Books website. He lives
in Pacific Palisades, California.
