Cast a cold eye on death

Short interview with the old sinner Gore Vidal, now 80. Still emitting that charming air of patrician self-righteousness which manages to rankle on occasion (especially if you disagree with him), he seems resigned to his contrariness; having written about history for so long he's now ready to join it. Also: the more aloof he is, the more moving. When asked about the death of Howard Auster, his companion of 40 years, in 2003, he says:

For a year after his death, Vidal barely ate. "I became anorexic." I am so surprised that we sit for a moment in silence. How did he pull out of it? He smiles, witheringly. "I ate something."

Regarding his reputation for never admitting to a mistake, he demurs:

"Yes, I do. I think it's because I speak in complete sentences. That's considered un-American."

Note the beautiful austerity of the photograph; he looks (deliberately?) carved in marble.