I didn't expect this story to be so sad. I already knew he died a pauper, before I started reading. I didn't know he died so young, with a life so unfulfilled.
There's a joke, nowadays, that gay men go through a second adolescence in their twenties, because all the teen romance and drama, vital experiences that serve as passages into adulthood, has been deferred. With Pat, it went on and on all his life. It's ironic a great novelist lost to history was never really meant to be a novelist. He was a theater man, loving the attention and laughter, like a child. Now that I think of it, his novels are a lot like comedic stage plays, with lots of background characters to keep the audience's eyes on stage. He wrote his novels, essentially, to keep his ideal party going. But all parties must come to an end. Pat kept trying to start new parties, either with a new social scene or a new book, but they didn't help him escape his demons.
The man was clearly not very emotionally developed, a quality his wife and kids seem to have forgiven, because of the fun he loved to give. I'd forgive him, too. I think he wanted to stay a high schooler doing plays with his friends, but saw New York as a way to never have to really grow up. It's a city that does certainly keep people young. He fell into writing by working in the publishing industry, and used the bohemian writing industry that could only work in New York to his advantage. The product was Auntie Mame, and subsequent books. But he didn't really like being a novelist. I was shocked to read his editors finished two of them. How could he let that happen? Well...the novels were only one side of his creativity, and he didn't like it dominating his life. It's too bad, in the adult world, our lives don't have room to be everything at once. I feel you, Pat. I feel you. Eventually, he was tired of upholding a status as a novelist, society figure, or whatever else, and chose to be a butler. It seems like a nonsensical move. Getting to know Pat, it makes perfect sense. He could live in a fancy house, have no real pressing responsibilities, work with lots of people in a fast-paced environment, and be a part of lavish parties. All with a steady paycheck. A butler was a way to go back to being a child, while having all the fun adults get to have. It's sad that was the only way he could be at peace with himself and the world. But, at least he died able to be his full self.