The Plimpton Bashing Can Begin... Now

Whatever happened to not speaking ill of the dead? Quill & Quire’s blog points out that, four years after his death at age 76, people have started unashamedly bashing the formerly (apparently) revered author-slash-actor-slash-editor, George Plimpton.

And because into all this meanness, a little sun must fall, this Web site takes the opposite stance: it’s like a valentine to the writer who is gone but clearly not forgotten. (And also one of the most elegant uses of new media this writer has seen. Evah. Aside, maybe from that of the design company that created it.)

At least part of this Plimpton brouhaha has erupted from Philip Roth’s inclusion of Nathan Zuckerman’s thoughts about Plimpton in Roth’s latest novel (and Zuckerman’s last) Exit Ghost (Houghton Mifflin). As Timothy Noah whines in Slate:

What’s with Nathan Zuckerman’s crush on George Plimpton? Readers of Exit Ghost will recognize that I’m referring to the extended critical reassessment of the late sportswriter and fireworks enthusiast that Philip Roth weaves into the climax of his novel....

Plimpton, with his antique upper-class accent and his penchant for name-dropping, might have made an ideal goyische target for Roth had he been the pompous sort, which apparently he wasn't. But neither was Plimpton anybody’s beau ideal of a writer of nonfiction. If one were to compile a list of the 20th century's finest journalists, it's doubtful he'd make the top 50.

Personally, we think it’s a bit dorky, not to mention ill-mannered and sad to start trashing on Plimpton at this late date. Plimpton was, during his lifetime, known as an honest sportsman, talented in many arenas. And now, in case you haven’t noticed, he’s quite, quite dead and unable to spit back. Though we are talking about Plimpton. It seems unlikely he would actually have spit.