Mailer’s Death: We Called It
The passing of Norman Mailer has elicited tributes, memories, and even a video of Rip Torn trying to hit Mailer in the head with a hammer (in Spanish!), but here at Boston magazine we have something else: his self-written obituary.
In the September, 1979 issue of Boston, Mailer composed his own obit, as did Tip O’Neill (self-deprecating fat jokes), and a few others whose deaths, real or imagined, elicit nary a reaction.
Mailer’s eulogy is, as you would expect, hilarious and contentious, and he manages to get back at his enemies even in the pretend afterlife. The full text is after the jump.
Reprinted from the September, 1979 issue of Boston magazine:
Novelist Shelved
By Norman Mailer
Norman Mailer passed away yesterday after celebrating his fifteenth divorce and sixteenth wedding. “I just don’t feel the old vim,” complained the writer recently. He was renowned in publishing circles for his blend of fictional journalism and factual fiction, termed by literary critic William Buckley: Contemporaneous Ratiocinative Aesthetical Prolegomena. Buckley was consequentially sued by Mailer for malicious construction of invidious acronyms. “Norman does take himself seriously,” was Mr. Buckley’s reply. “Of course he is the last of those who do.”
At the author’s bedside were eleven of his fifteen ex-wives, twenty-two of his twenty-four children, and five of his seven grandchildren, of whom four are older than six of their uncles and aunts.
At present, interest revolves around the estate. Executors have warned that Mailer, although earning an average income of one and a half million dollars a year, has had to meet an annual overhead of two million, three hundred thousand, of which two million, two hundred and fifty thousand went in child support, alimony, and back IRS payments. It is estimated that his liabilities outweigh his assets by eight million, six hundred thousand.
When asked, on occasion why he married so often, the former Pulitzer Prize winner replied, “To get divorced. You don’t know anything about a woman until you meet her in court.”
At the memorial service, passages from his favorite literary works, all penned by himself, were read, as well as passages from prominent Americans.
His old friend, Truman Capote, said, “He was always so butch. I thought he’d outlive us all.”
Gore Vidal, his famous TV and cocktail-party adversary, complained sadly, “Norman did lack the wit that copes. I would add that he had the taste of Snopes, but why advertise William Faulkner, who’s responsible for everything godawful in American penmanship—one can’t call it letters.”
Andy Warhol said, “I always thought Norman kept a low profile. That’s what I liked about him so much.”
Gloria Steinem stated: “A pity. He was getting ready to see the light.”
Jimmy Carter, serving his fifth consecutive term as president, replied in answer to a question at his press conference this morning, “It is my wife’s and I regret that we never did get to invite Norman Miller [sic] to the White House, but we will mourn his passing. He did his best to improve the state of American book-writing and reading, which we all need and applaud.”

November 15th, 2007 at 9:44 am
Damn brilliant. I’m going to embark on a reading of some of his material soon enough and this feels like a fine starting point.
Thanks for finding and posting this!
November 15th, 2007 at 2:27 pm
Classic! Totally hilarious. I had no idea Mailer had that kind of wit. I love the misspelling of his last name at the end by Jimmy Carter. Nice touch. So funny.
November 16th, 2007 at 6:21 pm
The title alone is enough to make this one classic. What a sense of humor!
November 18th, 2007 at 5:15 pm
His novel of a President Kennedy-like, hip candidate is first rate. My favorite English prof. pushed it on me and I loved it. Do people acurately remember a time like this? I read it so long ago I wonder myself. Yes. Guess he was witty.
From Amazon:
This pilgrim’s progress is nothing short of an obscene fantasy, wherein our hero, a decorated war hero, former congressman and talk show host, strangles his maddening estranged wife, buggers the German maid, steals a Mafia don’s girl friend, and proceeds, in 24 hours, to lie and deceive the New York City Police Department, the Mob, with intimations that the FBI and CIA are involved invisibly in the mess he created.
November 24th, 2007 at 7:27 am
I suppose he never imagined that he’d outlive Capote and Warhol. Perhaps he did, and those are ‘afterlife’ quotes. I wonder what is Buckley’s take on this eulogy? More Contemporaneous Ratiocinative Aesthetical Prolegomena? I would truly disagree. Mailer is wittier than a lot of us thought.
December 15th, 2007 at 10:46 pm
It’s so grand to discover that Mailer had beaten his critics to the punch by furnishing his own post humous insults; this is a pure Cyrano moment. Thank you for printing his obscure gem. I am, by the way,the author of that unwieldly sentence above taken from Amazon. I agree, “An American Dream” is first rate.
April 9th, 2008 at 5:55 am
It’s good to see the full text of this. Mailer’s humour and his insights in to mass psychology are the 2 things that stand out about him.