The Woman Who Wouldn't

I got to meet Gene Wilder tonight (briefly) signing his new book, “The Woman Who Wouldn’t”.

I told him “thank you”, and, “it was wonderful”, and he looked surprised, so I said “I read it in line”.

He looked at me surprised and a bit sad, and said, “The whole book?”

So I smiled and said, “Yes!” and “Thanks for everything”, and shook his hand and he squeezed mine. It was awesome.

My favorite passage from the book, the one that made me cry:

“I brushed away a fly that looked like it was about to land on Clara’s eyelid. What an angel face she has. I don’t want her to die. And I don’t want her to fall in love with me on the rebound from that asshole she was married to, or out of vulnerability because of her thoughts of death and cancer. I just want her to be happy, for as many weeks or months or days that she has. The pain is going to come later, Dr. Gross said. Well, watch over her, Jeremy. But I’ll be glad when I’m healthy enough to return to my work and my home, without responsibility for Clara’s happiness.”

That evening I received a note addressed to Mr. Webb, from Mrs. Mulpas. It read:

Dear Jeremy:
Too tired to eat dinner…perhaps because I’m so happy after our lovely picnic. I’ll see you tomorrow. I hope you’re happy, too.

Clara

UPDATE:

This is pretty cool – here’s an interview with Wilder the day after the book signing I was at:

GW: I went to a book signing last night at the Borders book shop in Caramel Mountain. I had never been there before. And there were people who had come at 8 in the morning to get a number. And when I walked in — I’m used to big crowds, but not this big — it was overwhelming. And here’s the answer to your question. When it started, we saw one of the parents carrying a baby. I said , “How old is that baby? It looks so young!” — “Three months.” Then I saw another parent carrying a baby. “How old is that baby?” — “Five weeks.” So there were kids, then there were the parents of the kids, then there were the parents of the parents, and then there were the parents of the parents of the parents. I mean, I had generations! And happened at every book signing! When there were people in their late 70s early 80s, then in the 60s, then in the 40s and then as teenagers or young married couples in their 20s. Age was spread across the board, and that’s a nice thing. But… well, I suppose, I have an ideal. Probably a woman involved, who is reading the book and crying afterwards. My memoir, it used to be called “I Lean Towards Women”, and I thought it was a stupid title because it sounded like a man who had one leg shorter than the other. Then I remembered what Gilda had said 3 weeks before she died “I have a title for you” and it didn’t make any sense to me till 14 years later!

Another Wilder interview here.