Reynolds Price Dies At 77

After complications from a heart attack, novelist Reynolds Price died Thursday at 77. The NYT obituary catches the crucial fact that he saw himself as heir to Eudora Welty, and the obit writer just barely manages to mention Price was gay. Better, the paper sought quotes from the two most perfect people to comment:

Allan Gurganus said, “He is the best young writer this country has ever produced,” and “He started out with a voice, a lyric gift and a sense of humor, and an insight about how people lived and what they’ll do to get along.” Gurganus also told the newspaper, “He made this small corner of North Carolina the sovereign territory of his own imagination and showed those of us who went away that the water back home was fine. We could come back; there was plenty of room for all of us.”

When she was sixteen Anne Tyler was a student in Price's first class at Duke. Responding to a request, she emailed the NYT, “I can still picture him sitting tailor-fashion on top of his desk, reading to the class from his own work or from one of his students’ papers," and "He seemed genuinely joyous when we did the slightest thing right.”

Readers new to Price might start with his NBCC winner Kate Vaiden [[no Kindle]]. His most recent work was the third volume of his memoirs, Ardent Spirits: Leaving Home, Coming Back [[Kindle]], which is not entirely degayed, though Price was of the old Southern school of homosexual discretion.

(Photo: Duke News)

Comments

[Bob Smith]

Gracious Southern queens aren't in the closet, they're in the armoire.

[John K.]

Oh, please. He's no closet case. His book "The Promise of Rest" left me in tears.

[geoffrey martin]

Bob that saying/quote is absolutely wonderful. Love it. He will be missed.

[Donald Bruce]

Unfortunately, he was under my radar, until I read his obituary. If i don't have a Kindle, where can I find his work?

[Stephen]

The title links to a physical book. The bracketed [[Kindle]] links to the Kindle version of that book.

[Philip F. Clark]

And may he now too, have his promise of rest. The world was better because of him, and writing had a larger heart.