but after reading THIS (and THIS and THIS), i’m re-evaluating.

and yes, he may or may not have been married to three women simultaneously and undoubtedly stabbed one. and he did a biographical hatchet job on my dear marilyn. and he justified adultery as “literary research” and on top of that he was a horrible misogynistic bastard. yes, yes, yes. i get all that.

but then there is this: “the night would end on the floor of her living room. he promised to write…”

this makes me kind of love norman mailer. partly because the man knew how to end an evening, but more so because he promised to write. and, really, that’s all a girl needs. the promise of writing. who even cares if it comes true.