Truman Capote, the celebrated author of classics like Breakfast at Tiffany’s and In Cold Blood, was as known for his distinctive high-pitched voice and flamboyant persona as he was for his literary talent. However, one particular speaking engagement at Towson State University in 1977 cemented a different kind of notoriety. Why did Truman Capote talk like that on that night? The answer goes beyond just his characteristic mannerisms and dives into a chaotic event that involved student organizers, dropped glasses, and an unexpected physical interaction.
The scene was set for a potentially enlightening evening at Towson State. Students had paid Truman Capote a substantial $3,500 fee to speak. However, as John Ruark, a student government member at the time, observed, there were immediate concerns. Capote appeared to be inebriated, leading to doubts about his ability to deliver a coherent speech. Another student, Nevins, recalls an associate of Capote’s assuring them he would be fine. The dilemma was clear: stop Capote and potentially face a contract breach, or let him proceed and risk a disastrous event. Financially, letting Capote attempt to speak seemed the less risky option, as failure to deliver would be on Capote, not the student government.
Things quickly devolved as Capote made his way to the podium. He tripped, dropping his reading glasses – an early sign of disorientation. Ruark, in a gesture of assistance, picked them up, only to be met with a vulgar insult from Capote. The speech itself was even more erratic. Accounts vary slightly, but the consensus paints a picture of disruptive and offensive behavior. Nevins remembers Capote throwing a book into the audience and launching personal attacks, calling attendees “fat” and “slovenly.” The Towerlight, the student newspaper, reported Capote’s confrontational announcement: “I’m going to read you something I like and if you don’t like it, to hell with you.” Ruark recalls a similar sentiment, emphasizing the use of profanity, something considered deeply inappropriate in public at that time. The student organizers decided to intervene. “We took him from both sides,” Ruark explains, indicating they physically escorted him away from the podium. Capote’s reaction was surprisingly passive, described by Nevins as “sort of childlike,” with an “oddly smiled” expression.
The immediate aftermath involved Nevins apologizing to the audience, which ironically garnered him the “most applause” he had ever received. Meanwhile, Ruark and Capote’s young friend faced the challenge of getting the inebriated author out of the car and into his hotel room. Capote was immobile and uncooperative. Ruark, despite Capote’s small stature, resorted to carrying him over his shoulder.
This is where a particularly memorable, and previously untold, detail emerges. As Ruark carried Capote through the hotel lobby, Capote squeezed Ruark’s buttock and complimented him with, “You have a nice ass.” This detail was omitted from initial accounts due to Ruark’s personal context. As a 20-year-old man from a conservative background, Ruark was grappling with his own identity and sexuality in a less accepting era. Capote’s unexpected advance added another layer of complexity to an already bizarre encounter. Ruark, reflecting on the incident years later, found the humor in it, stating, “I just literally thought it was funny,” and never perceived it as harassment.
So, Why Did Truman Capote Talk Like That? The events at Towson State were clearly fueled by intoxication. Capote was known to struggle with alcohol and substance abuse throughout his life, a battle that undoubtedly contributed to his erratic behavior on that night. Beyond the immediate influence of alcohol, Capote’s personality also played a role. He was known for his provocative nature, his sharp wit often bordering on cutting, and a certain disregard for social conventions, especially when under the influence. This Towson State incident, while extreme, was not entirely out of character for someone who cultivated a persona of both literary genius and social provocateur.
In conclusion, Truman Capote’s speech at Towson State in 1977 was a spectacle of public misbehavior driven by intoxication and perhaps exacerbated by his complex personality. The event became a memorable anecdote, not just for the students present, but also for understanding a less polished, more troubled side of a literary icon. It serves as a stark reminder that even the most eloquent writers can have moments where their words, and actions, go spectacularly awry. And sometimes, amidst the chaos, unexpected and even humorous moments, like an ass-grabbing punchline, can emerge.
