IGX

One of the very greatest American writers. I'm proud to say we were friends for over 30 years and read together at several different events.

Agree and agree. RIP

RIP

He came out here to Montana where he had numerous friends: Jim Harrison, Tom McGuane. He fished here most every summer. Even in his early 80s, he could cast a line out about 60 or 70 feet with impeccable form. (Pissed him off that his eyes weren't good enough to see the fly at the distance.) We'd pull over to the bank or an island and he'd wade out to fish the margin between the current and the eddy. It wasn't really safe for him at that age, but no one could stop the guy. A couple of years ago, he was a passenger in a wooden boat in a bad rapid most people avoid or portage. The Beartrap. We asked him about what he was thinking. He said, "I wanted to. People say my best work is behind me." Then he laughed.
He told everyone about the terminal diagnosis, and even through the chemo he worked every day.
He was kind and gentle and just looked right: tall, slender, athletic and aristocratic but with a manner that engaged everyone. Women found him irresistible and I mean up into his 80s. There was a time he took advantage of that. It was easy for him. "Like clubbing baby seals," he said.
Once, I was on a panel with Peter and Isabel Allende was the moderator. She introduced Peter (he was 79) and said, "I think he's sexy, don't you?" The audience burst into sustained applause. She introduced me and said, "when I read him I think perhaps he is not in his right mind." It was not easy being on the same dais with Peter Mathiessen.

And it you haven't read the obit, it may surprise you to know Peter was in the CIA back in the 50s. He started the literary journal, Parisian Review (in Paris, of coarse), to cover his poking around.

And like some espionage movie, he came to regret his time as a spy.