Howard Hawks and William Faulkner were good friends. They liked to go hunting and fishing together. One day they were planning a hunting trip, leaving from Hawks’ amazing house up in the mountains – and Clark Gable called. Howard Hawks and Clark Gable were good friends as well. Gable said, “What you doin’?” Hawks said, “Going hunting – want to join?” Gable said sure, he would be right over.
The three of them set off.
During the journey, the talk turned to literature.
Gable said (and he was not a literature guy, as will become obvious, shortly), “So Bill – who do you think are the best writers today?”
Faulkner replied, “Hemingway. Willa Cather. John Dos Passos.” Then he added, jokingly, “And myself, of course.”
Gable said, lit up with interest and excitement, “Mr. Faulkner, you write?”
There was a long pause.
Faulkner said, “Yes. And what do you do, Mr. Gable?”
Heh. I’m curious to know what Gable thought Faulkner did.
that’s awesome.
Awesome
I’m stealing this from Sheila–Howard Hawks and William Faulkner were good friends. They liked to go hunting and fishing together. One day they were planning a hunting trip, leaving from Hawks’ amazing house up in the mountains – and Clark
Hawks, unlike lots of people in movies, had friends from all walks of life. Pilots, musicians, soldiers, fashion designers, racecar drivers … hahahaha
Faulkner, also, despite the famous name – was not a famous face, like other writers. He preferred obscurity. He was in Hollywood against ALL of his inclinations. He was a very private man.
Gable probably thought he was just one of Hawks’ hunting buddies, and didn’t question it.
Amazing. I can see Gable’s face right now, asking that question with an utter lack of guile.
Ken –
“lack of guile” – a beautiful way to put it.
This comment might not be funny to people who don’t keep up obsessively with the modern classical music world, but that story reminds me of the following incident.
When I was a teenager, my parents pressured me to take piano lessons, and my teacher was an extremely talented musician named Bill Girard. Dr. Girard, despite his skills as a pianist, was primarily interested in directing opera, and when I was in my late teens, he left the States for Germany to pursue his ambition. On a fairly regular basis he would bring his family back here for visits, and on one such occasion he and I were talking about his recent work. He told me that he had been working under Giuseppi Sinopoli, and my jaw fell to the floor. Sinopoli, for those who don’t know, is an extremely important conductor, and he also is a composer. So anyway, I was star-struck by proxy and asked in an astonished voice, “You worked with Sinopoli?!!?” Dr. Girard replied affably, “Yeah, he’s great.” I asked, “What do you think about his own music?” Dr. Girard replied, “Oh, he composes?”
bryan – hahahahaha
These are great. Another great one of these types of stories (although this is fictional) is from Notting Hill when poor Hugh Grant somehow finds himself pretending to be a reporter and he is tossed into a press junket where he is forced to pretend he knows what he’s talking about.
He finds himself interviewing a young actress, about 11 years old. He is very condescending towards her: “Is this your first movie?”
She says extremely haughtily, “No. My 22nd.”
He says, “Oh! And … uh … what has been the best experience you’ve had so far in this business?”
She says smugly, “Working with Leo.”
Hugh’s face is blank. He takes a wild guess: “Da … vinci?”
She gives him a look like he’s crazy. She says, “No. DiCaprio.”
Hugh smiles, relieved that he knows the name, and then asks, “So. Is he your favorite Italian director?”
HAHAHAHA!
I actually haven’t seen that movie.
Love it. I can recite it be heart.
Uhm. Obviously.
I did see “Stripes” recently, though. Just to let you know the influence you have over me :)
YAY!!!!!!!!!
And incidentally, I was shocked too by the brief boob flash at the beginning, and that despite the fact that 1) you had prepared me for it and 2) I was in fact actively looking forward to it. There’s something about it that just seems so ad hoc and unexpected.
bryan – yup. that boob-flash is the true meaning of “gratuituous nudity”. No need to be there.
So feckin’ funny, though, that I had “prepared” you for the flash of boob at the beginning of Stripes, for God’s sake. I need to be hospitalized. I am insane.
I love insane people. They remind me so much of myself.