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| George Hodgeman | |
George Hodgman, a longtime editor and author of the memoir Bettyville, died on Saturday, July 20, in New York City, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reported. He was 60.
Hodgman worked for many years as an editor at Simon & Schuster, Houghton Mifflin and Vanity Fair. In recent years, he returned to Paris, Mo., to care for his mother, Betty, who suffered from dementia and other ailments. In Bettyville (Penguin), he chronicled "their loving and humorous, yet sometimes testy, relationship. [The] memoir also reveals his difficulties growing up as a gay boy in small-town Missouri and his fear of coming out to his mother." The book, published in 2015, was a finalist for a National Book Critics Circle prize in the autobiography category.
In an interview with the Post-Dispatch, Hodgman said: "You have to be really honest, and you have to treat the reader like a friend. If you're not willing to confide in the reader, you can't do a memoir."
Kris Kleindienst, co-owner of Left Bank Books, St. Louis, Mo., offered this tribute yesterday:
"I met George Hodgman in 2015, shortly before his outstanding memoir, Bettyville, was to be published. We agreed to meet at the Scottish Arms one Sunday for brunch and, among the various wide-ranging topics, that between us included a discussion of who's who of the publishing world, we hatched plans for Left Bank Books to host the St. Louis launch party for his book. I had already read an advanced copy of Bettyville and was more than a little starstruck. The book, like George, is tender, funny with a special flourish towards the absurd, and more than a bit profound without the slightest hint of pretension or self-consciousness. Bettyville, as did George, radiates a great love of family, friends, and neighbors. George is one of the most genuinely kind people I have ever met, even when he has been treated badly. And that was a higher than average experience for a gay man growing up an only child in a tiny rural Missouri town.
"We became immediate friends, something I realized later would be true of nearly everyone who met George. When you met him, or even just read his book, you wanted to be his friend so badly, you nearly imagined it so. And he didn't seem to mind, in fact, he treated nearly everyone as if they were his best friend. He was unfailingly generous with his time. He supported writers and independent bookstores alike. He was a reader at our first annual Bookfest St. Louis. Recently, I asked him if he would consider being in conversation at this year's Bookfest St. Louis with Ruth Reichl, another former editor of a Conde Nast publication. 'I don't know if I can persuade her to come, she has a busy schedule, too,' I wrote in an e-mail. Sure, he replied, he'd do anything he could to be of help, including talking to Ruth. Alas, it is not to be.
"George could tell you about an encounter with Jackie O. or his next-door neighbor in Paris, Mo., in nearly the same breath and give equal weight to both. George was an immensely talented writer and thinker, and after his book came out, he took to Facebook where thousands followed as he opined about his wide-ranging passions: from rescue dogs to historic preservation to the outrages perpetrated by the current administration, he was astute, knowledgeable and full of conviction. He was far better than any cable news magazine.
"It is physically painful to think of this world without him, to realize there will be no more readings in the bookstore or at Bookfest St. Louis, no more dinners filled with laughter, no more posts on social media. Even though we spent relatively little time in each other's actual company, I always knew he was an e-mail or text away and would, as he has said to countless lucky people, do anything for me if he could. Goodbye, dear friend! I would say may you rest in peace, but that feels wrong. What I wish for you is joy and laughter and rescue dogs in rambling old mansions full of people who love you. What I wish for the rest of us is that we are worthy of your memory, and that we may practice in our lives the kindness and unconditional love you have shown us."