海角大神

In the summer of 2013, at age 78, Joan Didion was a recipient of a National Humanities Medal. The setting was the White House, and in his remarks about the author of 鈥淧lay It As It Lays鈥� and 鈥淭he Year of Magical Thinking,鈥� President Obama emphasized that it was past time for her to receive the honor. 鈥淚鈥檓 surprised,鈥� he said, 鈥渟he hasn鈥檛 already gotten this award.鈥�

Yet one wonders whether Didion let herself be swept up in the occasion 鈥� and, after reading Tracy Daugherty鈥檚 magisterial, extraordinarily sympathetic new biography, The Last Love Song, one suspects not.

As Daugherty notes, Didion expressed skepticism about the president 鈥� as she had about his predecessors, including Ronald Reagan and George W. Bush. In a sharp essay, published shortly after the 2008 election, Didion complained of 鈥渢he spirit of a cargo cult鈥� that had accompanied Obama鈥檚 ascent. 鈥淐lose to the heart of the problem was the way in which only the very young were decreed capable of truly appreciating the candidate,鈥� she wrote, clearly rankled by the peer pressure to get on board.

Never was there a writer more constitutionally incapable of being a team player than Joan Didion. The perspectives she proffers, whether on feminism or John Wayne, are usually askance, rendering her 鈥� in the astute words of New York Review of Books editor Robert Silvers 鈥� 鈥渂y no means predictable, by no means an easily classifiable liberal or conservative.鈥�

Of course, Didion has very real leanings. Early in the book, the Sacramento native is quoted as writing that she grew up in the company of (and was thus influenced by) 鈥渃onservative California Republicans,鈥� and she is later said to have journeyed to her home state from New York to cast a vote for 1962 Republican primary contender for governor Joe Shell 鈥� 鈥淣ixon,鈥� Daugherty writes, 鈥渨as too liberal for her.鈥� The big-picture point, however, is that Didion regularly runs afoul of fleeting fashions, especially in the essays gathered in such books as 鈥淪louching Towards Bethlehem鈥� and 鈥淭he White Album.鈥�

While matriculating at University of California, Berkeley, she had no regard for the anti-establishment happenings on campus, as Daugherty writes: 鈥淭he Beats, the avant-gardists, the Berkeley Gothics with their stream-of-consciousness 鈥榩oetry,鈥� their orgies, yoga, and chemical enhancers 鈥� Didion couldn鈥檛 stand them.鈥� And, following a 鈥済uest editor鈥� tour of duty at Mademoiselle, she was already serious about her craft, and immune to guff.

鈥淔or Didion, writing was not a matter of communing with the spirit of the forest, sparking revolution, or buzzing with Eros,鈥� Daugherty writes. 鈥淚t was deadlines, cut-and-paste jobs, pleasing Saks Fifth Avenue.鈥�

A contest led to employment at Vogue, but novel-writing beckoned, as did contributions to National Review. 鈥淚n its pages, mostly in book reviews, she expressed her dismay at the straying of the nation and perfected the tone of lament that would center her first novel,鈥� Daugherty writes, referring to 鈥淩un River.鈥�

She was bewitched by Barry Goldwater, Daugherty writes, because he recognized, as did she, that what ailed the human race resisted being 鈥渟olved by political action鈥�: 鈥淗e never would have tried to regulate the world into a happier place.鈥� And, of course, The Duke was a hero worth worshiping. 鈥淚n John Wayne鈥檚 world, John Wayne was supposed to give the orders,鈥� Didion writes of his authoritative appeal in an appreciative essay for the Saturday Evening Post. 鈥溾�楲et鈥檚 ride,鈥� he said, and 鈥楽addle up.鈥欌��

In her enduring marriage to writer John Gregory Dunne (they joined forces on several brilliant screenplays, including 鈥淭he Panic in Needle Park,鈥� expertly detailed here), followed by the adoption of daughter Quintana, one can see the source of Didion鈥檚 indignation over the rise of the hippies in the title essay in 鈥淪louching Towards Bethlehem鈥�: 鈥淭hese were the children who grew up cut loose from the web of cousins and great-aunts and family doctors and lifelong neighbors who had traditionally suggested and enforced the society鈥檚 values.鈥�

In other words, family matters for Didion 鈥� another unfashionable angle, and one reinforced a hundredfold, decades later in 鈥淭he Year of Magical Thinking鈥� and 鈥淏lue Nights,鈥� concerning the despondency of a family gone missing, when Dunne and Quintana died, respectively, in 2003 and 2005. 鈥淭o announce Dunne鈥檚 death publicly in an obituary would be to officially sanction and ensure his death, thus barring him from returning,鈥� Daugherty writes, summarizing the 鈥渕agical thinking鈥� of the earlier book.

For one who has struck out on her own so often, it is unsurprising that Didion declined to cooperate with Daugherty. Her refusal may have been a blessing in disguise: as if compensating for her lack of participation, Daugherty practically establishes a psychic connection with Didion, as when he offers better than an educated guess about Didion鈥檚 uncredited authorship of a 鈥淧eople Are Talking About鈥� column in Vogue, suggesting 鈥渋t鈥檚 clearly Joan Didion on the streets of Reno observing 鈥榬anchers鈥� sons in Brooks Brothers suits and Stetsons.... everyone speaking in the Oklahoma drawl, now the accent of the far West.鈥欌�� Every aspect of Didion鈥檚 life and work is pondered thoughtfully.

Indeed, this doorstop of a book 鈥� telling not only of Didion, but of Dunne and Quintana, and the East and West coasts on which they made their homes 鈥� is made manageable because, as a reviewer in Publishers Weekly noted, Daugherty tends to 鈥渕imic Didion鈥檚 own famously cool and elliptical style.鈥�

Imitation it may be, but the book is fleeter for it, and so persuasive is Daugherty鈥檚 argument on behalf of his subject that one laments the likelihood that 鈥淏lue Nights鈥� may be among her final works (included is a litany of recent, never-realized projects). The atypical analyses of Joan Didion will forever be welcome.

Peter Tonguette has written for The Wall Street Journal, The Weekly Standard, National Review, and many other publications.

# # #