Matecumbe (27 page)

During his fine-tuning of rewrites, Michener peppered me for suggestions such as “give me a good name for a cat” (Puff ) or “what do people do when they visit the Islamorada Hurricane Monument?” (gaze in awe). He also decided to scrap one of his favorite devices—a geological history preface that for
Matecumbe
would have discussed the evolution of topography in the Florida Keys beginning with the Pleistocene epoch. “Too cumbersome for this book,” he concluded.

In 1974, I had introduced Michener to my uncle, Stefan, whom he subsequently used as one of the gamblers (“The Pole”) in
Sports in America
. I suspect that Michener was picturing Stefan while he rewrote an enhanced role for the Solomon-like Uncle Steve character in
Matecumbe
.

Eventually, Michener told me that there was no longer any chance of his convincing Random House to publish
Matecumbe
. He then gave me the manuscript outright, telling me that I could rewrite it if I wanted. Michener had sent me several letters indicating that he had gifted the manuscript to me, including one letter in which he specifically noted that he was giving me the copyright to
Matecumbe
as well as to other short pieces of nonfiction that he had written over the years.

This element of largesse was typical of Michener. To colleges and universities he gave millions of dollars. Friends and acquaintances rarely received money. Instead, he would give them personalized notes; hand-written poems; autographed books; and cooked hams at Christmas. Fellow ghostwriter Uys recalled the holiday goose that Michener gave him one year. It was inedible, though, being full of shot.

I often asked myself why Michener gave me the
Matecumbe
manuscript. It would be flattering to think he considered me the son he never had, but it was probably due more to trust. Most notable, I knew of his extramarital affair with DeMaio. His secretary/travel agent also knew (receipts from a trip to the Isle of Capri), and she received checks from Michener on a regular basis. I asked for nothing.

To the best of my memory, sometime in 1983 or 1984, Michener sent me some final paragraphs that he said should be inserted into the manuscript. From that point through this initial publication of
Matecumbe
, I never changed one word.
*
The more I read
Matecumbe
, the more I was certain it could not be improved—by me or by anyone. To me, reading it was like watching the film
Harold and Maude
. Every time I saw it, I recognized something new.

While Michener was alive, I did nothing with the
Matecumbe
manuscript. After his death, I made a few informal inquiries to publishing houses, but there was only mild interest. One acquisitions editor commented that “few people under fifty years of age have heard of Michener.”

Then, about a decade ago, while I was working for literary agent E. Sidney Porcelain, my curiosity bested me. One of my duties was to circulate sections of manuscripts that Porcelain had received from writers. I would regularly solicit opinions from other writers and editors that I respected, helping Porcelain to decide whether to represent these authors. Occasionally, I would send out copies of pages from
Matecumbe
to these reviewers, not telling them that Michener was the author. About half of my reviewers raved over
Matecumbe
, while the others were indifferent. One reviewer, who missed the point of the character development entirely, wrote a lengthy expansion of two Michener pages, declaring that “the Carlton character needs more depth.”

In the summer of 2005 I was in discussions with the editors at the University Press of Florida concerning a book I proposed on the history of celebrities in the Florida Keys. The editors then approached me about the
Matecumbe
manuscript after reading about it in May’s biography of Michener.

The first thing I explained to them was that this Michener novella may be light on pages, but it is far from a simple book.

In
Matecumbe
, the symbols and allegories that fill this apparently simple dual love story would require a trilogy to explain. Michener himself admitted that most of his loyal readers would like it but would probably fail to appreciate all facets of
Matecumbe
and would assume that it was merely a tale of two love relationships.

Sage advice would be that readers need to think as they read and that they should weigh the possible alternate/hidden meanings in
Matecumbe
. Specifically, they should ponder the recurring mention of the color blue as it concerns both Melissa and Mary Ann; the “why” behind the Reynolds character falling in love with Mary Ann; the old woman in the cemetery;the white cat, Coke; Carlton’s fear of hurricanes;the number of seeds in a watermelon; and especially the dialogue of the Uncle Steve character. If Francis Scott Key Fitzgerald can be commended for his words between the words in
The Great Gatsby
and his sharp social insight through symbolism, so, too, can Michener. As the Roman poet Horace stated, he “built a monument more lasting than bronze.”

Overall,
Matecumbe
is similar in structure and plot coursing to several of Michener’s previous works. Yet, it is also different, having a cutting edge that makes Michener’s characters come off as less straight-laced and less righteous.

Any critic who reads
Matecumbe
and concludes that it is “not exactly Michener” is probably right. It is, in reality, “Michener Plus.” I believe that his relationship with DeMaio caused this change. Prior to meeting DeMaio, Michener had the archetypical aloof Quaker personality. Afterward, he was more open, gregarious, and inquisitive. This alteration in his psyche is also evident in other books he wrote post-1984 and in the characters he created post-DeMaio. If we concede that Melissa (Missy) DeMaio was the real-life inspiration for the Melissa character in
Matecumbe
, then it is obvious that DeMaio was also the inspiration for the “Melissa (Missy) Peckham” in Michener’s 1988 novel,
Alaska
. It is also a given that “Peckham” is unlike any Michener character who appeared prior to his involvement with DeMaio.

It should be noted, for proper context, that Michener’s gift to me of the
Matecumbe
manuscript did not occur in a vacuum. Throughout the years, Michener also gave me a number of short works that he wrote and then decided not to have published—for various reasons.

According to Michener, the ten short features on Russia, based on his visit there in 1974, were “mere reflections on conditions in the Soviet Union at that time.” Michener added that “the Russian stories can’t really be packaged successfully to address a viable target audience of readers.”

The series of twelve connected stories he wrote about life in Florida were not mere reflections but were cultural analyses of the people in that state. Michener worried, though, that these Florida stories would be received as politically incorrect and might infuriate some readers. Criticizing and making enemies of northern Florida rednecks, Cubans, and Haitians doesn’t leave room for many friends. (For example, one story is titled
When the Last Real American Leaves Miami
.) Thus, the mothballs.

Finally, his haiku poems, about historical figures and locations in America, were scrapped in favor of his book of sonnets, which was published shortly before he died.

One other gift from Michener was an apparently innocuous two-page outline.

I had told Michener that I was working on a novel about racism in the United States, set in Florida and New York. To date, I am still engaged in creating this work of fiction, which attempts to define the sensibilities of our age.

When I explained that several of my characters would be neo-Nazis pitched against the Mafia, and that I was debating how to organize and outline my novel, Michener remembered an outline he had written for a book that he never wrote about Austria in World War I.

“Use this if you want,” Michener told me, referring to his outline. “I boosted structure guidelines from Honoré de Balzac and others. This outline will show you one way that you can intersperse events to justify your characters’ acts, whether you write about Austria, China, heaven, or hell. Good luck with it.”

I then promised Michener that I would continue to write my racism novel.

Sometime in the near future, I’ll know whether Michener’s outline works.

If what I produce is as good as
Matecumbe
, I’ll be satisfied.

James A. Michener (1907–1997) won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1948 for his
Tales of the South Pacific
and was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1977. He was the author of nearly forty books including
Centennial
(1974),
Texas
(1985), and
Alaska
(1988). His novels have sold in excess of seventy-five million copies worldwide.

*
The publisher has corrected typographical and compositional errors and errors of fact or meaning.