THE RYAN AND FARRAH SHOW

Fawcett stirs, O'Neal agitates; thanks for the memories; Tom Wolfe delights; giving Ruth a pass; the allure of Larry king; and more

I was greatly disappointed in Leslie Bennetts’s “Beautiful People, Ugly Choices” [September], as it was far less a profile of Farrah Fawcett than it was a lurid peek into the life of Ryan O’Neal. Fawcett’s journey through the entertainment industry epitomized the struggle her generation of women fought as they strove to be recognized as more than pretty faces without sacrificing their beauty or femininity. The focus of Bennetts’s piece not only allowed O’Neal’s questionable character to overshadow Fawcett’s passing but also underplayed her significance to the culture that adored her. It’s a terrible shame that Vanity Fair gave in to sensationalism and lost the opportunity to pay tribute to a woman who was remarkably simple and simply remarkable.

SLOAN GRENZ San Diego, California

THANK YOU for putting Farrah Fawcett on the cover of your September issue. Her death has largely been overshadowed, so it was nice to see her front and center. Having lost both of my grandmothers to cancer, I admire Fawcett for her courage and for documenting her tough battle. It’s heartbreaking that the world lost such a good person. I want Fawcett to be remembered for the lovely, beautiful, honest, courageous woman she was. It’s a shame that her legacy has to be marred by the dysfunctional Ryan O’Neal.

LAUREN McCLOSKEY Emmitsburg, Maryland

I THINK THE WORD “dysfunctional” is too mild to describe these two people. Ryan O’Neal is just reprehensible. He screwed up not only his life but also the lives of his children—and he has no remorse. As for Farrah Fawcett, she could have done better. She chose to be with this stupid man to the ruin of her only son.

STEPHANIE RICHMOND San Antonio, Texas

THERE IS GOING to be a lot of criticism of Ryan O’Neal’s behavior before and after the death of Farrah Fawcett—which has, at times, seemed to have been birthed directly in the pages of The National Enquirer. (I mean, I think we can each count on one hand the number of fathers who have hit on their daughter at their lover’s funeral.) However, I love the portrayal of O’Neal. He has no qualms about who he is, his flaws, and the countless family disasters he has either contributed to or directly caused. Celebrities so often try to mask their misgivings through carefully crafted sentences and “loving family” photo ops—not Ryan! Thank you, Vanity Fair, for the honest portrayal of a broken man and a broken family.

LAUREN GEMSKE Meriden, Connecticut

FAITHFUL TO THE KING

I HAVE READ more than a few tribute articles on Michael Jackson since his untimely death, but Lisa Robinson’s will be the last [“The Boy Who Would Be King,” September]. In the end all we are is a collection of our memories, and the memories Robinson shared from her taped recordings of her long-ago interviews with Jackson are the ones I will choose to remember when I think of the singer.

SYLVIA V. HILLMAN Los Angeles, California

THE SMILE-HIGH CLUB

TOM WOLFE’S ARTICLE “The Rich Have Feelings, Too” [September] was the best of the best. The illustrations by Paul Cox were also first-class. With all the pathetic efforts at humor that we are subjected to these days, it’s unusual to find humor that merits referring to it as that.

ALMA BYINGTON Bogota, Colombia

TOM WOLFE RESPONDS: I hereby tip my biggest hat—a white homburg 6 1/2-inch crown, 3 1/4-inch brim (deeply furled), dark-blue I f-inch hatband (including a fine, barely noticeable wraparound same-color thread sewn into the hat on one end and a same-color button on the other that buttons into the buttonhole on the jacket lapel as a tether in case of strong winds), and a f-inch same-color trim around the brim—toward Bogota!

“THE RICH HAVE FEELINGS, TOO” was hilarious and largely spot-on in its description of the conditions under which we little people must endure air travel, with one exception. The narrator of Wolfe’s piece is horrified by the amount of denim clothing he sees in the airport. But any self-respecting member of today’s elite would also be wearing denim, albeit denim that costs the equivalent of a few car payments. Perhaps Wolfe’s beauti- fully tailored white suits mean that, deep down, he really is one of the great unwashed?

DYANANEAL Baltimore, Maryland

WHY RUTH IS STRANGER THAN FICTION

YOUR STORY about Ruth Madoff was spellbinding [“Ruth’s World,” by Mark Seal, September]. I enjoyed her distress and troubles a little too much, frankly, and didn’t quite like that about myself. The story reminded me that we are all human beings—and therefore imperfect.

ROBIN GORNEAU Malvern, Pennsylvania

WITHOUT QUESTION THE PEOPLE who lost their life’s savings with Bernie Madoff are justifiably enraged. We can understand their thirst for retribution. But why are these other folks—presumably some are friends, co-workers, and neighbors—having a virtual feeding frenzy to get their opinions of Ruth Madoff in print? Some of their remarks in Mark Seal’s otherwise riveting article come off as jealous, catty, and downright nasty.

JANE FERRALL Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

ENOUGH with the Madoffs! Let’s not waste any more talent and ink on this contemptible family.

KRISTIE BRAMWELL Raleigh, North Carolina

WHILE I AM NOT entirely unsympathetic to the victims of Bernie Madoffs Ponzi scheme, I think that the vitriol directed at Ruth Madoff is misplaced. The assertion that she must have known of the scheme because things were too good for too long seems to apply equally to the investors, who enjoyed unrealistic returns for many years apparently without ever questioning Madoff as to how those results were achieved. It would seem that large sums of money must have an anesthetizing effect, numbing the recipients to any sense of potential impropriety. Perhaps those victims who would invoke Dante’s Divine Comedy and condemn the Madoffs to eternal damnation would do well to look into the mirror and take stock of the role their own greed played in their misfortune.

KYLE E. HANRAHAN Slidell, Louisiana

I READ THE PIECE on Ruth Madoff and the profile of Anya Hindmarch [“The Queen of Cozy Cool,” by Kate Reardon] back-to-back. What a contrast of lives! Dare I say these two articles should be required reading for highschool-age girls? How much plainer could we make the lesson that a rich life and a life richly lived are vastly different things, indeed.

Even with her success, I doubt that Hindmarch has had the caliber of experiences that Madoff did in her heyday, but it is plain to me that she is still the wealthier of the two.

KATE DARLING Chicago, Illinois

MOURNING BECOMES LARRY

JAMES WOLCOTT’S September column, “Mourning with Larry,” was the funniest column I have ever read. Tears of laughter were streaming down my face by the time I finished it; Wolcott is a brilliant writer. Please publish more articles like this; it’s a great antidote to today’s troubled times.

MARY ELLEN THOMASON Bardwell, Kentucky

THE REASON LARRY KING gets such good interviews, from entertainment fig-

V.F. CLASSIC

im Dexter was just another aimless I surfer dude in Southern California I with a serious drug problem and a lengthening arrest record. Then he discovered grizzly bears, changed his name to Timothy Treadwell, and devoted his life to filming and trying to protect the animals he loved—until one of them (possibly “The Big Red Machine,” pictured above) tore him and his girlfriend. Amie Huguenard, to pieces. In his May 2004 article examining Treadwell's life and work (which were also the subject of Werner Herzog's 2005 documentary. Grizzly Man). 1 'cmity Fair contributing editor Ned z Zeman pondered where the line between s man and beast lies, and whether Treadwell £ was foolish or brave to have crossed it. To | read "The Man Who Loved Grizzlies,” ^ visit VANITYFAIR.COM/ARCHIVES. x

ures to political subjects, is that he provides a comfortable place for his guests to open up and does not take cheap shots. There is a place for Larry King Live as much as there is a place for Meet the Press.

ANDREA SALINAS Bastrop, Texas

LADIES’ MAN OF THE PEOPLE

MICHAEL WOLFF’S “All Broads Lead to Rome” [September] succeeds more in revealing its author’s obfuscation than in giving an accurate analysis of Silvio Berlusconi’s personality or of the Italian political scene. Had Wolff interviewed or consulted slightly more honest, intelligent people than the flunky, left-wing Italian journalists he seems to be so enthralled by, he could have probably avoided what is likely to be considered by most civilized people an idiotic faux pas—characterizing as he does the Italian prime minister as a braggart, cheap Lothario, dime-store Sinatra, and national joke.

Berlusconi has admitted that he is not a saint. But then, who is? Berlusconi, being almost 73 years old, is nothing short of a human dynamo—flying from one capital to another, visiting the earthquake-stricken regions of central Italy and working to make sure all those left homeless will be sheltered by winter, and ridding Naples and its environs of thousands of tons of garbage. Is it any wonder that, according to the most authoritative polls available, 65 percent of Italians support him? And if, at his age, he still enjoys some sport with the younger set, more power to him. Let the hypocrites, including the commentators and gossipmongers, sizzle in their envy.

ELISEO AMICO Erice, Italy

AFTER READING Michael Wolff’s great article in which he accurately captures the man who is supposed to be our prime minister, I feel pretty ashamed of being an Italian. I love my country, and I want you to know that not all Italians behave in the same manner as Berlusconi, especially young people like myself (I am 15 years old), who want to get rid of him and his “star power.”

ILARIA SMIDERLE Schio, Italy

THE ART OF COUTURE

AS AN ATTORNEY and writer who set aside her Columbia Law School education to dedicate the past five years of her life to being a purveyor of vintage clothes, I can attest to the everlasting allure of couture [“Toujours Couture,” by Amy Fine Col-

lins, September]. I am an avid consumer of contemporary design—which owes nearly everything to vintage—but the pinnacle of my sartorial adventure came last January. Just before I dashed back into another frigid New England night after a house party, the host asked me what I do for a living. Upon hearing that I am a shopgirl, he descended to his basement and returned with a black garbage bag. From that rather unpromising blob of plastic emerged a cocoa-brown Christian Dior New Look ball gown from 1952. Christened “Esther” on her muslin tag and created for Mrs. John Wanamaker of Philadelphia, the masterpiece featured a finely boned corset, intricate beading, and a ballerina-inspired silhouette that must have been blessed by Monsieur Dior himself. It was the most beautiful dress I’d ever touched, I told its then owner, who offered it to me. Eventually, I sold Esther, my flower of all frocks. Today, she preens before me still, as my computer desktop image.

PETRIA MAY Great Barrington, Massachusetts

IYANKA: SHE’S JUST LIKE US!

ALTHOUGH SHE HAS always claimed to be just a regular oP gal, I was highly skeptical that the Ivanka Trump could be a part of the great unwashed. Then I read in “My StufF’

1 OKI: F K O 1 T II i: V. F. 1 A I I. K A (

■Last year I stumbled across Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop Web site,” writes k Soraya Chemaly from Washington, D.C. “The daffy combination of interesting information and privileged ingenuemother commentary was irresistible. It also proved irresistible not to spoof [ppoooggg.blogspot.com].” Craig Brown's satire “Diary: Gwyneth Paltrow” (Vanities, September), Chemaly says, is "even funnier because it was unclear whether or not Paltrow participated.” (She didn't.) Kelly Stagnaro of Ashton, Maryland, also appreciated “Brown's dead-on channeling of Gwyneth Paltrow.” Typically, Brown nailed it too convincingly for some readers, among them Fran Watson Richards of Indianapolis, Indiana:

“Spare us from any additional dimwitted interviews such as the one with Gwyneth Paltrow.

Her attempt at humor and her use of bons mots is embarrassing.”

What would the annual Best-Dressed List (September) be without bleats of outrage from readers whose own personal style remains, it must be said, conveniently out of public view? “When I read that your list included Michelle and President Obama, I wept,” writes Deb Rasmussen from West Des Moines, Iowa. “By naming Michelle Obama to your ‘Best Dressed' list. Vanity Fair has broadcast that its list is more focused on scoring points with our President than acknowledging good fashion,” adds Crystal Swanson of Arizona. Yes, much dismay at the inclusion of the Obamas.

Some reactions to the non-Obamas: "Are you serious? Perhaps Lizzie Tisch.

Chiara Clemente, and some others have some really nice clothes that qualify them, but the ones they are wearing in the issue are ghastly!” (Sherill Cyr, Putnam, Connecticut). “Anne Hathaway? What happened to the women who genuinely have a great sense of personal style ... not someone who merely writes a check to a stylist?” (Carole Jacobs. Los Angeles). "Anyone whose occupation is ‘investment banker' or ‘private investment adviser' should be wearing an orange jumpsuit rather than the latest fashions. It’s like posting a photograph of A1 Capone in a nice double-breasted suit” (Joanna Stelling, Weehawken. New Jersey). “A gentleman in three patterns of plaid that clash more violently than Israel and Hamas! Another in a lipstick-red jacket clearly a size or two too small! A third in a dinner jacket that can best be described as Fire Island camouflage! Lime-green trousers! A bandanna do-rag! These are the world's best-dressed men for 2009? The rich are different from you and me: they have no mirrors” (Ron Roman. Pasadena, California). "This year it seems as if your inspiration for best-dressed comes from bag ladies and men who dress as if prepared for a costume party” (Latchezar Christov, Oceanside, California).

Finally, which piece, according to Miriam Goulson of Southfield. Michigan, is “the funniest, funniest, funniest article ever written in any, any, any magazine"? Why, James, James. James, Wolcott's, Wolcott's, Wolcott's "Mourning with Larry” (September, September, September).

[Fanfair, September] that she uses Crest toothpaste and Maybelline mascara. Well, golly gee whiz! Color me happily surprised.

EM HALL Washington, D.C.

LASTING LETTERS

IN RESPONSE to Bill Culberton’s comments in September’s Letters about Ronald Reagan and wasted time in the fight against AIDS, I would like to describe President Reagan’s concerned reaction to the 1985 revelation that my longtime friend and client Rock Hudson had AIDS. When Mr. Hudson was suddenly hospitalized in Paris, and doctors discovered that he had contracted H.I.V., the hospital insisted that his condition be revealed, which caused an international media furor that lasted for the six months leading up to his death. As his public-relations representative, I was virtually forced to become Rock Hudson in the media because he was too ill to speak for himself. We had decided that he should use his illness to help others afflicted with the disease, which, as we now know, would spread throughout the world.

I received a telephone call in the midst of this highly visible campaign from then president Reagan, who had been a colleague of both of ours in the entertainment industry and who admitted he knew “very little about this disease, but if it is causing the death of someone like Rock I know it can affect everyone and I want to know more about it.” The president asked me what he could do, and I explained that he and Congress needed to support research and the development of a cure, because the virus was going to affect thousands of people. I told him that, contrary to what many at the time thought, it was not a “gay disease” but could strike anybody. President Reagan was so moved that a few weeks later he telephoned me again, this time to report that he had been able to get through Congress a request for $40 million, which was the first money devoted by our government to battle this disease. Rock Hudson died on October 2,1985, but his legacy was that he became “the hero of AIDS awareness,” and President Reagan personally helped that happen.

DALE OLSON Los Angeles, California

I STRONGLY DISAGREE WITH Joyce Beattie’s assertion in her letter that it was O.K. for Lord Elgin to pilfer the friezes from the Parthenon because “he gained Turkish consent to transport them, at his own expense, to London.” I wish to point out that Greece was under the harsh rule of the Ottoman Turks for 400 years, including the period when Elgin was in Greece. Does anyone believe that if the Greeks had ruled their own country during this time they would have allowed Elgin to carry off these treasures? I hardly think so. For many years the Brits have argued that Greece did not have an appropriate venue to display the friezes, which are currently in the British Museum. Since the beautiful new Acropolis Museum is now open, that assertion is no longer the case, and it is high time these priceless works of art were returned to Greece.

GEORGE MISTHOS

San Diego, California

CHEST EXAMINATION

IT IS USUALLY a treat for us girls to see barechested men gracing the pages of any publication. But your choices for September’s Vanity Fair can only be filed under these categories:

The good: Jon Hamm, a treasure chest [“Don and Betty’s Paradise Lost,” by Bruce Handy].

The “bad”: Michael Jackson, a boyish, toy chest.

The ugly: Ryan O’Neal, who should keep his barrel chest covered up, please!!

DEE N. HUNTER Beverly Hills, California

CORRECTION: On page274 of the September issue (“Don and Betty’s Paradise Lost," by Bruce Handy), we misspelled composer David Carbonara’s name.

Letters to the editor should be sent electronically with the writer’s name, address, and daytime phone number to letters@vf.com. Letters to the editor will also be accepted via fax at 212-2864324. All requests for back issues should be sent to subscriptions@vf.com. All other queries should be sent to vfmail@vf.com. The magazine reserves the right to edit submissions, which may be published or otherwise used in any medium. All submissions become the property of Vanity Fair.

POSTSCRIPT

■In his November 2005 article, “The I Man Who Ate Hollywood,” Mark Seal I reported on the nasty legal battle between the heirs of the larger-than-life wildcatter turned Hollywood mogul Marvin Davis. Davis’s eldest daughter, Patricia Davis Raynes, was suing her four siblings, her mother, and several of the family's advisers, alleging that they had all helped her father to systematically loot her trust fund before his death, in September 2004. It was a lawsuit filled with shocking allegations, including that Marvin had entrapped and beaten Patricia in an effort to get her to sign documents giving him control over her finances. As Seal noted in his conclusion, “The story is not over by a long shot. On the front page of Patricia’s lawsuit, in capital letters, are the words JURY TRIAL DEMANDED.”

As it happened, she never got her jury trial. Patricia wound up settling with all 14 parties named in her complaint, and the case was closed in January 2008. By then, however, another of Davis’s daughters had decided to take her family to court.

At issue this time is the sale of the bankrupt family business, Davis Petro-

leum, in March 2006. Nancy Davis has alleged that her brother Gregg Davis and his partners vastly undervalued the company and thereby robbed her (and her mother and siblings, who also held significant shares) of as much as $50 million in proceeds. It’s a serious charge, but so far Nancy has had a hard time getting a judge to take it seriously. And lawyers for Gregg deny the allegations, saying, "We believe she's completely wrong.” The Texas bankruptcy court that had originally approved the deal to sell Davis Petroleum ruled in favor of Gregg and his partners, then a district-court judge dismissed Nancy’s appeal. Now the case has bounced back to the bankruptcy court. Nevertheless, one of Nancy’s attorneys tells V.F. that they still hope to pursue the claim in civil court. For his part, Gregg has accused his sister of “forum shopping.”

As $eal reported in riveting detail, Marvin Davis’s life was a study in feuding, dealmaking, and legal maneuvering—so why should his legacy be any different? -MATT PRESSMAN

To read the original story, visit VANITYFAIR .COM/ARCHIVES.