- published: 01 Apr 2016
- views: 808
Norman Kingsley Mailer (January 31, 1923 - November 10, 2007) was an American novelist, journalist, essayist, poet, playwright, screenwriter, and film director.
Along with Truman Capote, Joan Didion, Hunter S. Thompson, John McPhee, and Tom Wolfe, Mailer is considered an innovator of creative nonfiction, a genre sometimes called New Journalism, which superimposes the style and devices of literary fiction onto fact-based journalism. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize twice and the National Book Award once. In 1955, Mailer, together with John Wilcock, Ed Fancher and Dan Wolf, first published The Village Voice, which began as an arts and politics oriented weekly newspaper distributed in Greenwich Village. In 2005, he received the lifetime Medal for Distinguished Contribution to American Letters from the National Book Foundation.
In 1992, Mailer received the annual Peggy V. Helmerich Distinguished Author Award presented by the Tulsa Library Trust.
Norman Kingsley Mailer was born to a well-known Jewish family in Long Branch. His father, Isaac Barnett Mailer, was a South African-born accountant, and his mother, Fanny Schneider, ran a housekeeping and nursing agency. Mailer's sister, Barbara, was born in 1927. His second sister, Norma, was born in 1930. Raised in Brooklyn, New York, he graduated from Boys' High School and entered Harvard University in 1939, where he studied aeronautical engineering. At Harvard, he became interested in writing and published his first story at the age of 18, winning Story magazine's college contest in 1941. As an undergraduate, he was a member of The Signet Society. After graduating in 1943, he was drafted into the U.S. Army. In World War II, he served in the Philippines with the 112th Cavalry. He was not involved in much combat and completed his service as a cook, but the experience provided enough material for The Naked and the Dead.
(Difford/Tilbrook)
WARNING: These lyrics are unconfirmed and may be inaccurate. They represent the best attempt at deciphering the song we have yet to see.
Supermarket lights burn in the darkness
The chilly winter nights bring the scarves from the drawer
A crowd starts to gather on paving stone squares
Teeth start to chatter as the staff leave the store
And daughters meet mothers and fathers meet sons
It's too dark to walk home without anyone
The shopping precinct's closed, it's like a graveyard
The chain falls through the spokes as I unlock my bike
I cycle to the pub where I meet with my friends
And I know that it's love as she pours me my pint
And strangers meet strangers and friends share their lives
I look at her again and feel butterflies
I pull the pillow to my side
And I imagine it is her
As I slip into the night,
I know what I prefer
But I hope and I pray that one day she will say
That's it's true
I can't live without loving you
Now there's no one around I push the bike home
The rain's a lovely sound as it runs down the path
There's our lights in the road, they amber the night
And there's nobody home, so I soak in the bath
And bubbles meet bubbles as they become one
I think about the world and what I have done
I pull the pillow to my side etc
Supermarket lights burn in the darkness (repeat to fade)