A BATTLE TO WRITE HISTORY

LETTERS

Clouds of hatred; assessing Levi; a short form for big bucks; stupid in America; flawless Wallis; and more

1 found Sam Kashner’s article “A Clash of Camelots” [October] fascinating, but also chilling. I had forgotten the blind hatred many had for J.F.K. until I read William Manchester’s notes about the “wanted” posters with the president’s face that circulated in Dallas. Many tend to look at recent screaming seniors disrupting town-hall meetings and the outburst of a congressman during Obama’s address as excessive responses to specific issues. But history shows that their anger is not issue-related. It is an inbred sickness that can be stirred into a frenzy by the H. L. Hunts and John Birchers of the 1960s or the unconscionable Glenn Becks and Rush Limbaughs of today. In both eras, these radicals wear the cloak of patriotism to conceal their irrational rage and justify their violence. I truly fear for our president and our nation.

STEVE METZGER

Barnstead, New Hampshire

I WAS A TODDLER when my father wrote The Death of a President, so I declined to be interviewed for Sam Kashner’s discerning article. However, I can attest to the fact that my father did not remain bitter about his controversy with the Kennedys over the book’s publication. Besides his writing, the deepest core of his identity was his lifelong membership in the Democratic Party. He staunchly supported the progressive politics the late senator Teddy Kennedy championed during his career in the Senate, and would have been extremely moved by the letter the senator wrote to my family after my father’s death, in 2004, in which he stated, “Your father’s comprehensive book about the death of my brother helped our nation deal with that unspeakable tragedy.”

LAURIE MANCHESTER

Tempe, Arizona

I HAD HOPED that the death of Ted Kennedy would present an opportunity to stop putting members of his family on the cover of Vanity Fair. Alas, imagine my disappointment when once again my eyes met the grainy image of Jackie O. How many more never-before-seen photos can there be? Or sordid tales, rumors, and fantasies left untold? V.F.’s fascination with the myth of Camelot is approaching the pathetic. Whilst dreaming of an apparently more hopeful time seemed understandable during the Bush era, given the new administration, it is time to look for hope in the future rather than in the past. On behalf of your international audience and those born after the 1960s, I ask you to please end this obsession and find new stories to tell.

NATALIE MAST

Canberra, Australia

FROM THE TIME he published The Death of a President, William Manchester struck me as naive to the point of being a fool. Sam Kashner’s article does nothing to change my mind. I find Manchester’s portrayal of Mrs. Kennedy as an actress in her grief offensive. I interviewed her by phone nearly 30 years ago for my study of John F. Kennedy’s thinking on strategy and national security. Even then—after being widowed a second time—she choked up when she spoke of “my husband” Jack Kennedy. She was deeply touched to learn that he had preserved an aide-memoire she had written in the early 50s on a discussion at Hyannis Port among Kennedy, the future Lord Harlech, and her.

I’m sorry Manchester suffered at the hands of the Kennedys, but he kidded himself about them and his relationship with them. Manchester somehow didn’t notice that he was an employee writing an authorized text and doing it for chump change. He found out, to his dismay. At least it made him famous.

DEVALLON BOLLES

Winchester, Massachusetts

AS MRS. KENNEDY’S history continues to be written, more and more comes to light about her obsessive-compulsive, near maniacal attempt to control and augment President Kennedy’s legacy. As a very amateur, modestly read, and self-professed Kennedy buff, I find the politics the brothers stood for and the policies they implemented are more or less agreeable with hindsight. Jackie’s desire to control aspects of J.F.K.’s place in history, however, was unfortunate.

ED FLYNN

Quispamsis, New Brunswick

I WANTED TO EXPRESS my disappointment in your cover story on Jackie Kennedy. To promote this long, boring rehash of well-known events as Jackie’s “loneliest battle” is a new low for a usually entertaining magazine.

WILL JOHNSON

Boston, Massachusetts

ENORMOUS THANKS to Sam Kashner for finally writing the story of author William Manchester and his incredible account The Death of a President. I came upon Manchester’s book in the seventh grade just as I was discovering the life and times of President John F. Kennedy. Even as a 12-year-old girl I found the detailed chronicle of J.F.K.’s assassination riveting, exhaustive, and utterly fantastic. I found myself drawn to Manchester’s narrative style, and the amount of research that he did was awe-inspiring. Today, decades later, I am a published author and historian. I credit William Manchester for stirring in me a passion for history and the written word. I hope readers now have a better appreciation for him and the struggles he endured to get this important work published. The Death of a President has not received the accolades it so rightfully deserves.

AMY GOODPASTER STREBE

San Diego, California

ON NOVEMBER 22, 1963, I was in Ms. Frances Magee’s l0th-grade English class at Woodrow Wilson High School in Dallas. When the principal came on the P.A. to announce that the president had been shot, not one person in that room burst into applause. In fact, there was dead silence, so it seems a little far-fetched that somewhere in a wealthy Dallas suburb a fourth-grade class filled with nine-yearolds not only understood the gravity of the situation but also managed to burst into applause.

T. J. ALLEN

Salt Lake City, Utah

BEYOND THE PALIN

LEVI JOHNSTON has succumbed to the same forces that he indicates Sarah Palin was pulled in by: media attention, money, fame, special treatment, and nice clothes. Johnston wasn’t just telling a story about Sarah Palin [“Me and Mrs. Palin,” October]; he was telling the world about how much more growing up he has to do. Shame on Levi, and shame on Vanity Fair. At least Johnston can blame his poor taste on youth. Vanity Fair is obviously desperate to print any story.

LISA LEMERISE FISCHER

Arlington, Massachusetts

I AM NO FAN of Sarah Palin’s, and I was horrified at the thought of her as America’s vice president, but, having said that, I was sorry to see the article “Me and Mrs. Palin” published in Vanity Fair. It somehow seemed beneath the magazine. There’s no doubt that Levi Johnston has a unique perspective on Sarah Palin, but why should V.F print this young man’s public ax grinding when Palin’s actions speak for themselves? Stooping to this level smacks of reality-show titillation and pandering to the lowest common denominator.

CARDA SWACKHAMER

Bakersfield, California

IT TAKES COURAGE to discuss one’s personal experiences with a powerful individual. I thank Levi Johnston for confirming what many of us have seen in Sarah Palin: narcissism, inexperience, and a lack of wisdom and sophistication. After the dismal eight years of the Bush administration, I recoil when considering how this past election could have turned out. No doubt Johnston’s motives will be dissected and crucified by Team Palin and the rightwing pundits, CONTINUED ON PAGE I 0 ’ but whistleblowers, whatever form they take, always win out in the end. Thanks, Vanity Fair, for continuing to bring to light information all Americans need to be aware of but most other mainstream publications lack the courage to make public.

CONTINUED ON PAGE 102

V.F. CLASSIC

It was one of the craziest ideas V.F. ever had, but also perhaps one of the most inspired: for our September 2000 issue, we sent contributing editor Nick Tosches all over the Far East in search of the mythic pleasures of an opium den. Nearly everyone he encountered. howeverHong Kong gangsters, a Phnom Penh madam, denizens of Bangkok's Chinatown—told him that such places no longer existed. Indeed, simply procuring in its unadulterated form what Thomas De Quineey. author of the classic The Confessions of an English Opium-Eater, called "the celestial drug ... the secret of happiness” turned out to be all but impossible. Opium had long since been supplanted in popularity by the vastly more powerful (and, not incidentally, vastly more profitable) highs of heroin and speed. But Tosches was undeterred. He pursued his quest well beyond the big cities, traveling to a bamboo hut in the swampland of Cambodia and a crumbling, forgotten colonial outpost in northern Thailand. Did he ever find what he was looking for? To read the original article, "Confessions of an Opium-Seeker," visit VANITYFAIR .COM/ARCHIVES.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 96

GEORGANNE BRUMBAUGH

Larkspur, California

SARAH PALIN WAS a disgrace on the political scene, but if she is to be held accountable, let it be for her public performance, not her private life.

ANNE-MARIE BYRNES

Park Forest, Illinois

WHAT DID SARAH PALIN do that was SO horrible? She doesn’t cook, and she takes hour-long baths. She made Levi get a real haircut, and she didn’t let him go to a party, fearing it could be bad for his image. It sounds as if Sarah and Todd were parents to him, and he didn’t appreciate it.

MARIA ELLIE

Orlando, Florida

I HAVE TO SHAKE my head at Vanity Fair these days. After reading Levi Johnston’s barely literate tattle tale, I rolled my eyes. This is what is interesting these days, the uninspired hangers-on of failed politicians? I cringe when I think of all the great talents in the world deserving recognition and then see such space devoted to a low-class loser.

JIMMI SHRODE

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

I WAS APPALLED at Levi Johnston’s article. The Palins took him into their home, and he turns around and betrays them! He may think Sarah was an idiot and a “phony,” but she was smart enough to try to get her daughter away from him. I bet her daughter wishes now that she had listened.

DARLENE MORONE

Tucson, Arizona

LEVI JOHNSTON has exposed the flaws and inadequacies of a woman so unprepared to be a “heartbeat” away from the presidency. Sarah Palin was the most imperfect choice for the position she coveted. John McCain and the entire Republican Party should be ashamed of their superficial choice, and anyone who voted for this ticket should examine his values. Fortunately, sane minds prevailed.

JEAN BLOCK

Treasure Island, Florida

AFTER READING “Me and Mrs. Palin,” a perspective from a naive 18-year-old, I discovered an enhanced respect for Sarah Palin. I am a professional woman who worked and fought through 20 years of jobs in corporate America. Levi Johnston’s article inspires me to snuggle into my Walmart pajamas and vote for her again!

MARYDAWN MILLER

San Clemente, California

I AM CERTAIN that when Sarah Palin allegedly said, “No, I don’t want the retarded baby,” she was referring to Levi Johnston.

LISA A. ZELEN

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

BAILOUT ACCOUNTABILITY

DONALD L. BARLETT and James B. Steele’s terrific article on the bailout [“Good Billions After Bad,” October] made me furious. I filled out many online forms and Free Application for Federal Student Aid documents with my son to obtain a measly $10,000 in college money. This took countless hours! The ease with which these C.E.O.’s obtained anywhere from $3 billion to $25 billion is ludicrous. And not tracking the money, given the sheer number of employees at the Treasury, should be a crime. I hope President Obama reads this article.

MORE FROM THE V.F. MAILBAG

hat has got to be the longest note I have ever been passed in homeroom,” writes Robyn Thomson from Delta, British Columbia. “That” would be “Me and Mrs. Palin,” by Levi Johnston. Quite a bit of mail regarding that piece, with the words “twit,” “tool,” “deadbeat,” “15,” and “minutes” recurring to a notable degree.

“A note to Mr. Johnston: In your next expose, perhaps you should refrain from casually mentioning in your concluding remarks that you're chasing fame,” writes Teressa Cannata from Los Angeles. “Credibility is important when you are publicly bashing the former vice-presidential candidate.” Kassi Novello of East Lansing, Michigan, writes, “I’m no Sarah Palin fan, but Levi lost me at 'mullet.’”

Chad Briese of Salt Lake City says, “Is there nothing else you have to print than the 'opinion' of a kid who got famous by making a baby? I have a kid—can you do a piece about me?”

(No.) “I have a lot of opinions about a lot of things.” (No!)

“Although the Palin episode was at times a thrilling ride, I will forever hold John McCain responsible for infecting the media with these backward, uninteresting, opportunistic, trashy, and, above all, unworthy, boring, baby-popping hicks. Yes, they're attractive, and, yes, they're wholesome in a frontiersy sort of way, but please stop fixating on them.” (Don’t be shy, Ryan Hurley of Eureka, California—tell us what you really think.)

“I was disappointed to see repeated references to ‘the tranny’ in Maureen Orth’s 'Killer@Craigslist' [October],” writes Russ Clampitt from Los Angeles. Joe Mackey of Denver agrees: "I realize that the fellow did not want his name used in order to protect his identity, but in this situation don't journalists generally make up a fake name?”

Now, we have a complaint, directed at the reader who informed us that “I will no longer be purchasing Vanity Fair any longer.” The Mailbag is afflicted with a free-associative mind occupational hazard—and that sentence, needless to say, instantly made us think of Spinal Tap's “Tonight I’m Gonna Rock You Tonight,” with the result that the song lodged in our head for the better part of a day. (Or we should say: All day it stayed in our head for the whole day.)

Thanks to all the readers who misread—well, “misread” might be too strong, but “misinterpreted” is certainly fair—a passage in Sam Kashner's “A Clash of Camelots” (“Kennedy's family had wanted the president to be buried in Brookline. Massachusetts, next to his father”). The comments ranged from the polite (“one small error,” “a mistake,” “an error,” “error found”) to the harrumph ingly sarcastic (“A glaring factual error. Now I'll be dubious of the reliability of the rest of the article.... Good job, VF.!"). Only Scott Baker of Chagrin Falls, Ohio, hits the nail on the head: “Perhaps you meant his father had purchased a plot there?” That is exactly right. Good job. S.B.! (Without sarcasm, by the way.)

"On page 111, I see that my old friend 'eponymous' is back,” observes Christina Neumeyer of Carlsbad. California. (Yes, this has come up before.) On the other side of the country, in Decatur, Georgia, Sarah Beth Gehl wonders, “Is there a concerted effort among Vanity Fair writers to make 'eponymous’ the word of the month? Or is there some contest surrounding that word that I'm not sure about? (I recently counted it at least five times in your magazine, if that qualifies me for a prize.)” Finally, this from Eponymous B. Spoke in Bayville, New Jersey: “Please find another means of describing self-named companies and custommade clothes.” And, while we're at it, new readers in Bayville.

DEBORAH JOHNSON

Midlothian, Virginia

I HAD A DIFFERENT TAKE on “Good Billions After Bad,” I’m sure, from what was intended by the authors: how refreshing it was to learn that the Bush administration was willing to act so quickly and with so little bureaucracy to shore up the world financial system. The two-page application for bailout money was exactly the right prescription to solve this crisis.

MARK JACKSON

Scottsdale, Arizona

DUMBING DOWN AND LOVING IT

OCTOBER’S “More from the V.F. Mailbag,” which used angry responses to Todd S. Purdum’s August article, “It Came from Wasilla,” to create a poem, provides an opportunity to frame a picture of an empire in demise: America is dumbing down and loving it. The kernel of promise in free speech is discourse, but Americans have absolutely no interest in discourse. They react to perceived attacks on their deep-rooted prejudices with vitriolic stupidity, and this, to them, defines free speech. Many of the readers quoted proclaimed, with much chest beating, that they will never read Vanity Fair again, assuring us all that they have no intention of learning anything. Their G-spot is the embrace of ignorance and the pure joy they get from reacting violently to truth, familiar or not.

POST SCRIPT

As the flamboyant founder of Penthouse, Bob Guccione pushed the boundaries of the sexual revolution and (less famously) published some of the finest magazine journalism of the 1970s. He also happened to be, for a few years, the boss of V.F. contributing editor Patricia Bosworth, who, in 1974. accepted his offer to become the executive editor of Viva, the fledgling magazine Guccione had dreamed up as a kind of Penthouse for women. When Bosworth reconnected with Guccione for her February 2005 article,

“The X-Rated Emperor.” however, she found him far removed from his heyday. By then Penthouse s circulation was less than a tenth of what it had been at its height, and in any event Guccione, once one of the richest men in the world, had lost the company in a bankruptcy sale. Of his five children, all of whom had worked for their dad during the years Bosworth was at the company. Guccione was estranged from three. He was still living in perhaps the grandest home in New York—an Upper East Side mansion he built from two adjacent town houses but he was in imminent danger of losing the place to creditors.

Nearly five years later. Guccione hasn't recaptured his former glory, but he is utterly content with his new life. He has long since moved out of the mansion—it was purchased in 2007 by the hedge-fund mogul Philip Falcone and his wife, Lisa Maria. for $49 million and into a more modest house in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, just across the Hudson River from upper Manhattan. He shares the property with his fourth wife. April Warren (she was his girlfriend at the time of Bosworth's article, and they married in December 2007). their five Rhodesian Ridgebacks, and a live-in housekeeper. Most important for Guccione, he has patched things up with all of his children. “He’s surrounded by his kids, and he likes nothing better than to have dinner with his family,” says Bob Guccione Jr., who had not spoken to his father for 18 years when Bob senior reached out to him around Christmas 2005. "It was an effortless reconciliation." the younger Guccione says.

According to his son, Guccione spends much of his time painting (he started Penthouse as a way to subsidize his art career) and working on his memoir. But he hasn't entirely lost the combativeness that characterized him in the 70s—he's still embroiled in a lawsuit with Marc Bell, the private-equity investor who bought Penthouse in 2004 and who Guccione claims reneged on an agreement to keep him on as a $500,000-a-year consultant (a charge Bell denies). "My father has always been a very tough guy,” says Guccione Jr. “He’s been to the top. he's been to the bottom. He’s a resilient man with a real sense of perspective, and in many ways he's exactly where a 79-year-old grandfather wants to be and should be.” -MATT PRESSMAN

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

MICHAEL L. ALDRIDGE

Laguna Beach, California

MODEL CITIZEN

AS A PHILADELPHIAN turned Californian, I absolutely loved the article about Wallis Annenberg [“Her Own Kind of Annenberg,” by Bob Colacello, October]. Not only is she elegant and extremely bright, she is continuing the generous tradition of her father in funding worthy causes all over the world. She is a marvelous example of a very wealthy woman using her money to benefit others.

MARJORIE C. LAWRENCE

Nipomo, California

I DRIVE BY the pink-walled estate in Rancho Mirage several times a day and often wonder, What is going on behind the gates now that both Walter and Lee Annenberg are gone? It is heartening to read that Wallis has taken over the philanthropic mission of the family and that she is carrying on with projects that will continue to help communities and entertain the masses long after she’s gone.

CORINA NORIEGA

Rancho Mirage, California

THE WAY THEY WERE

MATT WEINER shares my fetishism for the look, sound, and feel of the early 1960s, but Mad Men’s real genius lies in the luxury of hindsight [“Don and Betty’s Paradise Lost,” by Bruce Handy, September]. Mouths agape, we marvel at the now discredited social codes: excessive smoking and drinking (even while pregnant), casually tolerated sexism, the virtual invisibility of gays and blacks, and so forth. But how much more advanced are we really as a society today? I’m sure in 40 years our grandchildren will look back at the turn of this century with disbelief at our excessive consumption of gasoline, prescription drugs, and junk food; our passive acceptance of corporate fascism and useless technological gadgetry; our appalling waste of water and blind eye to climate change; our intolerance of shifts in cultural and racial diversity; and so forth. It’s easy to scoff at the sins of past generations, but while we have “come a long way, baby,” no one can seriously claim we’re in an age of enlightenment. At least the early 1960s looked and sounded fabulous.

VAL PENN ADDAMS

San Francisco, California

THE BALLAD OF EDMOND SAFRA

I WOULD LIKE to draw Vanity Fair’s attention to certain inaccuracies in “Our Man Dominick” (by Michael Hogan, November) relating to Edmond Safra’s death, in his Monaco apartment, in December 1999. The article states: “For some reason Safra’s team of bodyguards had that night off, and Dominick was convinced that the dead man’s prominent wife, Lily, knew more than she was letting on.”

The assertion that security guards were given the night off has been repeated many times and has become yet another urban legend, but it is simply not true. There were never guards regularly stationed at Mr. Safra’s apartment in Monaco—neither that night nor any other night. The only such security was at the Safras’ other residence, in the South of France, a large property that requires close monitoring.

The claim that Mr. Dunne was convinced Mrs. Safra “knew more than she was letting on” somewhat contradicts what he himself wrote in his column “Verdict in Monaco” (February 2003). In that article he admitted he had come to believe that Ted Maher, Mr. Safra’s nurse, was in fact guilty of starting the fire that caused Mr. Safra’s death, and that, whatever Dunne’s beliefs or conjectures may have been, there was no larger plan or conspiracy of any kind.

SETH GOLDSCH LAGER

Adviser, Safra S.A.

Paris, France

THE TROUBLED INSIDER

A MISUNDERSTANDING of the word “economy” underlies Henry Paulson’s admission that “we were late on everything” and his cluelessness regarding the impending recession [“Henry Paulson’s Longest Night,” by Todd S. Purdum, October]. The economy of working-class Americans was never on Paulson’s radar screen. The bubble burst because average American consumers couldn’t continue to pay their mortgage bills. Employment and real income at the middleclass level has been eroding for years. The inability of Paulson and the big-nine C.E.O.’s to connect consumers to their personal definition of the economy, then and now, will continue to suppress sales and profits at all levels of the greater economy.

GEORGE J. PRETNICK

Medina, Ohio

I WAS EXPECTING some hard-hitting reporting from Todd S. Purdum on Henry Paulson, one of the most offensive, self-dealing Treasury secretaries in postmodern America, not some puff piece. I didn’t believe any of Paulson’s testimony before Congress, and I don’t believe a word of Purdum’s interview. Paulson learned at least one thing during his time in government: Never tell the truth.

GARY ROCCO

Carnegie, Pennsylvania

A QUESTION OF TASTE

THANK YOU for the rich belly laugh I enjoyed while reading Stephen King’s criticism of Stephenie Meyer’s writing ability in October’s “New Establishment.” Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! I have stopped reading King’s work because his style is still as annoyingly primitive as it was when he started out, years ago. King has a following because of his prolific ability to generate unlikely plots that hook his readers, but I’ve had to throw more than one of his books at the wall because his endings didn’t deliver. Meyer has tapped into an emotional vein for women of all ages. Her hero fulfills every woman’s inner fantasy, namely, that there is a man out there who will love us unconditionally and ultimately protect us from harm. Whether Stephenie can continue beyond the Twilight series remains to be seen. Neither author is Pat Conroy.

PAM DORRIS

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

FATAL CONNECTION

IT’S A REALLY INTENSE reality check to read “Killer@Craigslist” [by Maureen Orth, October] and discover that I am prey. As a person who has grown up on the Internet, I find myself caught up in the fog of its accessibility and ease. Orth’s statement “Every search, every posting, every text message or Twitter, leaves a cyber footprint” reminded me of how little caution is used by my generation with the never-ending technology we’ve been surrounded by since birth. My eyes are finally open to what the “crazies” out in the world are now capable of. I have to be much more careful.

KATIE O’CONNELL

San Diego, California

CORRECTION: On page 215 of the November issue (“Marc Dreier’s Crime of Destiny,” by Bryan Burrough), we misidentified Marc Dreier’s lawyer. He is Gerald L. Shargel.

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