Lipton’s Journal/Correspondence of Robert Lindner and Norman Mailer/February 16, 1954

::::::::::::::::::::To Robert Lindner
::::::::::::::::::::February 16, 1954
Dear Bob,
I’ve been pushing hard into the book, mainly by an act of will, because now that I’m near the end, time just seems to drift. I guess what it comes down to is that I just don’t want to finish it because then what will I do next? The problems of the unemployed man. In a way I almost wish you hadn’t liked it so much because now I feel less drive to improve it—my feeling is pretty much one that it has good structure and just needs a new coat of paint. Telling Amussen did no harm except for the tender vanities involved over there—when I see you I’ll tell you how funny the whole thing was, because before you spoke to Ted the situation there was very complicated, and now it’s probably even more complicated. Anyway, we’ll have a laugh over it. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to write to you about for a long time, and I’ve let it rest to see if I would cool down in my feeling about the matter. But since I still feel the same enthusiasm, I guess it’s safe to broach it now. Going to that prison, Bob, was truly a central experience for me. I had the feeling that for the first time in years I’d found something which excited me basically. I believe I mentioned in passing something about doing such work to you, and I know I mentioned it to Johnnie, but anyway, thinking about it at length, the following set-up has occurred to me. I want very much to work on some sort of interviewing level in prisons for six months say after I finish this book. Not necessarily to write a prison novel, but the feeling I have is that I’m running dry of personal experience and life experience, and that it’s time to fill the well again. (Fill the pen again!) And the women fascinated me even more than the men because I know so little about women from lower income levels. What a way to describe them! But you know what I mean. So I suggest this as something which might be of interest to you, and possibly of mutual benefit—I know it’ll be of benefit to me. That is, that I work as your assistant over at that prison on a full-week basis, possibly doing some sort of research for you that you don’t have the time to do personally but would like to see followed up. As far as pay goes, I don’t care about that particularly because I’m still relatively solvent, and I’d rather do the sort of work I want to do rather than take pay for something which interests me less. Possibly a sort of social counseling job to the girls or whatever would be feasible. I can see any number of aspects to this which are impractical or worse for you, and there probably are difficulties I don’t even know about, but I thought I would throw it out to you, and when we get together next time we can go into it at length. Also, you’ll know how you feel about it at that time.
Incidentally, I met an actor named Neville Brand who’s quite a fantastic character. He was one of the five or ten most decorated soldiers in the last war, and he’s a big oaf of a man in appearance, but with it all is surprisingly intelligent, sensitive, and articulate. On top of it all he’s been analyzed for years now and has that tender somewhat muddled surface personality that people in analysis often have. Anyway he worked in a picture called Riot in Cell Block 11 which he says is the best (if not the first) prison picture ever made. It’s coming out this week in New York, and I aim to see it early. Neville put in about two weeks in Folsom Prison before the picture, and spent something like eighty hours with a homicidal psychopath who he says was just brilliant—a cell-block leader. He talked all night about prisons, and he apparently had an experience something like mine. He said that the moment he walked into Folsom he thought to himself, “I’m home.” Brand, by the way, read all your books in boning up for the role, and would love to meet you. I took the liberty of telling him that if he’s ever in Baltimore he should look you up cause I think you’ll find him very interesting indeed. He’s the only man I ever met who’s not only a hero, but has imagination as well. We talked about Rebel Without A Cause and he thinks Walter Wanger might be interested because Wanger since his four months in jail has been completely hipped on the subject of prison. If you have an agent, it might be well for him to contact Wanger, or if you wish, I could get you a Hollywood agent easily enough. I’ve been trying to remember if the Rebel screenplay belongs to you now or is still in Jerry Wald’s hands.
Adele and I are having a tremendous party this Saturday, and if there’s any chance of you and Johnnie being in town, we’d love to have you. Actually, it would be a waste. I’d be greedy for your collective company and have to share the two of you with seventy others. But, still I throw this out in case you might be in town.
I’ll be seeing Ted Amussen tomorrow and will be giving him your regards. Do give my warmest to Johnnie, and say hello to Marged, Jean, and the boys.
::::::::::::::::::::As ever,
:::::::::::::::::::::Norman