
In the summer of 1947, Leo and his friend, Richard Hunter and Harry Rothschild, rented a house in Quidnet, Massachusetts. Christopher Isherwood popped out for an end-of-July visit.
On August 1, 1947, Leo penned a letter to novelist Ruth Yorke, who was in Paris at the time. In this missive, Lerman described Christopher Isherwood thus: “I found him quite delightful, with strange eyes and delight in malice and in hurting himselfâ€.
Photo credit: (c) Harold Halma.
This book is terrific!
Thanks for that…and yes, read the book.
I loved the current pictures too!
STB
What’s pretty extraordinary about Lerman’s journals — aside from the thoughtful writing and personal honesty — is his first-person candid commentary about still-fascinating cultural figures such as his buddy Marlene Dietrich (who tells LL that she doesn’t like sex, but since men seem to expect it from a sex symbol, however old she’s getting, Dietrich just gives in to get it over with) and Maria Callas (who spills the beans about Ari Onassis’s preference for anal sex and how Jackie O refused to go that far). It’s like an insider’s guide to the realities behind 20th-century culture.