The Living Theatre: Art, Exile, and Outrage by John Tytell Page 13

"For the most part, Julian felt constrained, smothered by the decorous propriety of Yale and the stuffy weight of its past. Julian wrote a drama column for the Yale Daily News in the spring of 1943. He was reading voraciously, less to satisfy course requirements than his own curiosity. Wallace Fowlie, one of the few professors he admired, had once shared a flat with the poet W.H. Auden and told Julian that Auden only read what would assist him in writing his poetry, a fact that if emulated could not have helped Julian very much as a student."

From the Book "The Living Theatre: Art, Exile, and Outrage" by John Tytell Page 13


As I noted that I just completed page 12 and was a little more than half way down 13 and I already counted the use of "every day" three times --- sitting in the leather Manhattan chair in the office reading this book I felt this uncanny notion that this was exactly what I was supposed to be doing at this time and place and that allot of my reading, thinking, writing, conversations of "my path" led me and prepared me for this.

Consequently, when I read the name "Wallace Fowlie" it truly and sincerely made me organically smile both inside and out with an ethereal glow.

I recalled a precise part of the conversation I had with Wallace Fowlie the first time I visited with him in Chapel Hill, N.C. while he was enjoying his status of James B. Duke Professor Emeritus of French and Italian Literature and also used by Duke University as an expert psychoanalyst --- Wallace Fowlie emphatically stated to me that there were no coincidences --- That's why I was there --- That's why we became friends.

Wallace Fowlie was working on a book up until the time of his death on this very thing he had asserted to me and was quietly preparing for the world of serious literature: "no coincidences." During our first conversation and while he conveyed this notion to me he used a story to demonstrate his point about his first meeting with John F. Kennedy when they were boys by a pond in Massachusetts.

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