By Stuart Mitchner
Only at the end of the book [Lie Down In Darkness]… in Peyton’s Molly Bloom-like monologue, would I finally enter her mind. And I hoped that this passage would be all the more powerful, because it was suddenly and intensely interior and personal.
—William Styron (1925-2006), from a 2002 talk
The girl, Peyton …would have wound up jumping from a window no matter where she came from.
—from Writers at Work (Viking 1957)
Interviewed at a Parisian cafe in the mid-1950s, William Styron is described as “a young man of good appearance, though not this afternoon; he is a little paler than is healthy in this quiet hour.” A few questions later Styron admits, “I like to stay up late at night and get drunk and sleep. I wish I could break the habit but I can’t.”
Styron was 77 when he delivered the 2002 talk at the Whiting Foundation, some 17 years after the battle with suicidal depression that he recounted in Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness (1990) and not long before the recurrence of the illness that clouded the last years of his life, which ended when he was 81 in 2006. In the memoir, which first appeared as an essay in Vanity Fair, Styron connects the onset of depression with the realization, “almost overnight” that “I could no longer drink.” It was as if “a comforting friend had abandoned me not gradually and reluctantly, as a true friend might do, but like a shot — and I was left high and certainly dry, and unhelmed.” Worse yet, he hadn’t published a book since Sophie’s Choice in 1979 and would live the last 27 years of his life in the shadow of that fact, which may explain why he devoted the Whiting talk to his first book, Lie Down In Darkness (1951).
The word “darkness” and occasional echoings of the novel’s title recur throughout Peyton’s monologue, a 50-page-long un-indented paragraph, which, contrary to Styron’s framing, has little in common with Molly Bloom’s earthy, life-affirming monologue that famously ends with a simple “Yes.” Peyton’s monologue is bookended by a pompous preface (“Strong is your hold O mortal flesh, strong is your hold O love”) and two fragments, one set above the other, as if thought or cried out in mid-fall: “Oh most Powerful …. Oh must.” more