Unfinished Woman, An: A Memoir.
Hellman, Lillian. An Unfinished Woman: A Memoir. With illustrations. Boston: Little, Brown, (1969).
8vo.; red and black cloth, lightly bumped; spine lightly rubbed; all edges foxed. In a specially made cloth slipcase.
First edition of Hellman’s first volume of memoirs, which garnered her the National Book Award and some of the best reviews of her career. Later autobiographical works include Pentimento (1972), Scoundrel Time (1976), Maybe (1980) and Eating Together: Recollections And Recipes (1984). A presentation copy, inscribed to Leon Edel, who devoted his considerable academic career to the critical study of Henry James and his works: For Roberta and Leon with affection & the hope that they will like the book. Lillian Sept 1969. With Edel’s ownership signature docketed 1969, Martha’s Vineyard, on the half-title. Hellman and Edel both had houses on Martha’s Vineyard, where they socialized often.
When Hellman turned from drama to memoir, she had much to draw upon in her very public life. Her support of Communism brought her in front of the House Un-American Activities Committee, and divided her from many anti-Stalinist liberals. One of these was Mary McCarthy, against whom she brought a legendary libel suit that remained unresolved at the time of Hellman’s death. Hellman also had public feuds with Arthur Miller and Lionel Trilling, among others. Her anti-Zionist politics (she was Jewish), constant search for attention, and competitive character earned her as many enemies as she had friends in her large circle of acquaintances.
In writing An Unfinished Woman, Hellman tried to give the overall feeling for those she particularly loved, such as Hammett and Dorothy Parker. However, in using the twists of her memory to provide structure for the work, rather than writing a strictly chronological autobiography, she opened herself up to charges of untruthfulness in her zeal for a good story. Her unconventional ending comments in advance on this issue: “I do regret that I have spent too much of my life trying to find what I called ‘truth,' trying to find what I called ‘sense.' I never knew what I meant by truth, never made the sense I hoped for. All I mean is that I left too much of me unfinished because I wasted too much time. However.”
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