What do you think?
Rate this book
One Christmas
One unforgettable Christmas, young Truman Capote is sent from his childhood home and his beloved cousin Miss Sook to New Orleans, to a father he's never met. Far from the warmth and familiarity of small town dreams and family traditions, Truman learns the painful truths about his father, about Santa Claus, and about love lost and found.
41 pages, Hardcover
Published October 12, 1983
2 people are currently reading
365 people want to read
About the author
Truman Capote
345 books7,249 followersLibrarian Note: There is more than one author by this name in the Goodreads database.
Truman Capote was an American writer whose non-fiction, stories, novels and plays are recognised literary classics, including the novella Breakfast at Tiffany's (1958) and In Cold Blood (1965), which he labeled a "non-fiction novel." At least 20 films and TV dramas have been produced from Capote novels, stories and screenplays.
He was born as Truman Streckfus Persons to a salesman Archulus Persons and young Lillie Mae. His parents divorced when he was four and he went to live with his mother's relatives in Monroeville, Alabama. He was a lonely child who learned to read and write by himself before entering school. In 1933, he moved to New York City to live with his mother and her new husband, Joseph Capote, a Cuban-born businessman. Mr. Capote adopted Truman, legally changing his last name to Capote and enrolling him in private school. After graduating from high school in 1942, Truman Capote began his regular job as a copy boy at The New Yorker. During this time, he also began his career as a writer, publishing many short stories which introduced him into a circle of literary critics. His first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms, published in 1948, stayed on The New York Times bestseller list for nine weeks and became controversial because of the photograph of Capote used to promote the novel, posing seductively and gazing into the camera.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Capote remained prolific producing both fiction and non-fiction. His masterpiece, In Cold Blood, a story about the murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, was published in 1966 in book form by Random House, became a worldwide success and brought Capote much praise from the literary community. After this success he published rarely and suffered from alcohol addiction. He died in 1984 at age 59.
Truman Capote was an American writer whose non-fiction, stories, novels and plays are recognised literary classics, including the novella Breakfast at Tiffany's (1958) and In Cold Blood (1965), which he labeled a "non-fiction novel." At least 20 films and TV dramas have been produced from Capote novels, stories and screenplays.
He was born as Truman Streckfus Persons to a salesman Archulus Persons and young Lillie Mae. His parents divorced when he was four and he went to live with his mother's relatives in Monroeville, Alabama. He was a lonely child who learned to read and write by himself before entering school. In 1933, he moved to New York City to live with his mother and her new husband, Joseph Capote, a Cuban-born businessman. Mr. Capote adopted Truman, legally changing his last name to Capote and enrolling him in private school. After graduating from high school in 1942, Truman Capote began his regular job as a copy boy at The New Yorker. During this time, he also began his career as a writer, publishing many short stories which introduced him into a circle of literary critics. His first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms, published in 1948, stayed on The New York Times bestseller list for nine weeks and became controversial because of the photograph of Capote used to promote the novel, posing seductively and gazing into the camera.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Capote remained prolific producing both fiction and non-fiction. His masterpiece, In Cold Blood, a story about the murder of the Clutter family in Holcomb, Kansas, was published in 1966 in book form by Random House, became a worldwide success and brought Capote much praise from the literary community. After this success he published rarely and suffered from alcohol addiction. He died in 1984 at age 59.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 82 reviews
December 1, 2023
One Christmas away from his familiar home teaches young Buddy some hard truths he wasn't prepared to learn. A few bright moments offer hope for peace in this often comfortless short story based on Truman Capote's childhood.
November 29, 2020
A powerful memory of a childhood spent torn between parents and family members. Very eloquently written yet perfectly expressed the fears and confusion that a young child experiences in an adult world.
December 26, 2024
I began to wonder what Santa Claus would bring me. I wanted a pearl-handled knife. (…) And a B.B. rifle to shoot sparrows. (Years later, when I did have a B.B. gun, I shot a mockingbird and a bobwhite, and I can never forget the regret I felt, the grief; I never killed another thing, and every fish I caught I threw back in to the water.)
Este conto natalício de Truman Capote, dedicado à irmã do seu parceiro, apesar de também ser protagonizada pelo pequeno Buddy e de ter alguns momentos emotivos, não é tão ternurento como “A Christmas Memory”, que é a melhor história de Natal de sempre. O que lhe falta é a interacção fofinha com a prima Sook, que aqui aparece somente de fugida.
Passado no início dos anos 30, numa altura em que era normal pôr uma criança de sete anos sozinha num autocarro, apenas com um papel com o destino preso à roupa com um alfinete, Buddy viaja contrariado desde o Alabama, onde vive com a família da mãe, para passar o Natal com o pai em Nova Orleães.
I cried. I didn’t want to go. I’d never left this small, isolated Alabama town surrounded by forests and farms and rivers. I’d never gone to sleep without Sook combing her fingers through my hair and kissing me good-night. Then, too, I was afraid of strangers, and my father was a stranger.
Partindo de um fundo autobiográfico, “One Christmas” relata aquele momento em que uma criança percebe que o Pai Natal não existe e que os próprios progenitores são pessoas imperfeitas, com atitudes ainda incompreensíveis.
Once I was in the bus, I crouched in a seat and shut my eyes. I felt the strangest pain. A crushing pain that hurt everywhere. I thought if I took off my heavy city shoes, those crucifying monsters, the agony would ease. I took them off, but the mysterious pain did not leave me. In a way it never has; never will.
Este conto natalício de Truman Capote, dedicado à irmã do seu parceiro, apesar de também ser protagonizada pelo pequeno Buddy e de ter alguns momentos emotivos, não é tão ternurento como “A Christmas Memory”, que é a melhor história de Natal de sempre. O que lhe falta é a interacção fofinha com a prima Sook, que aqui aparece somente de fugida.
Passado no início dos anos 30, numa altura em que era normal pôr uma criança de sete anos sozinha num autocarro, apenas com um papel com o destino preso à roupa com um alfinete, Buddy viaja contrariado desde o Alabama, onde vive com a família da mãe, para passar o Natal com o pai em Nova Orleães.
I cried. I didn’t want to go. I’d never left this small, isolated Alabama town surrounded by forests and farms and rivers. I’d never gone to sleep without Sook combing her fingers through my hair and kissing me good-night. Then, too, I was afraid of strangers, and my father was a stranger.
Partindo de um fundo autobiográfico, “One Christmas” relata aquele momento em que uma criança percebe que o Pai Natal não existe e que os próprios progenitores são pessoas imperfeitas, com atitudes ainda incompreensíveis.
Once I was in the bus, I crouched in a seat and shut my eyes. I felt the strangest pain. A crushing pain that hurt everywhere. I thought if I took off my heavy city shoes, those crucifying monsters, the agony would ease. I took them off, but the mysterious pain did not leave me. In a way it never has; never will.
December 17, 2018
Not all Christmases can be wonderful, and this Christmas for Buddy (Truman Capote) was a bitter-sweet one because he didn't get to spend it with his cousin Miss Sook but was sent to visit his father whom he hardly knew.
Miss Sook told him that perhapse there would be snow in New Orleans. Neither of them had ever seen snow, but Miss Sook loved it as Buddy had said, “Sook read me many stories, and it seemed a lot of snow was in almost all of them. Drifting, dazzling fairy tale flakes.” Of course there was no snow in New Orleans, which was a disappointment to him.
His father was happy to see him, and when he picked him up at the bus station, he was laughing and crying and then asked him, “Don’t you know me?” But that night Buddy just prayed to be home.
His father had already bought him a Christmas tree, which I felt should have been something that they should have done together, but at least they went into town to buy the ornaments for it.
What an estranged family, I thought. A mother who was not around, who left him in order to go to college and then got a job in New York. A mother who also said that his birth had destroyed her, which comment also destroyed him. Some things, like this, you just never get over. How hard it must have been for him to put this memory down in this Christmas story, that is, unless this story had been all made up. At least, I thought, “A Christmas Memory,” although also bitter-sweet, was mostly sweet. And then there was his dad: a man who drank a lot, and was a charming womanizer who married old women for their money.
Miss Sook had told him about Santa Claus, and so Buddy believed in him. Santa with his “flowing beard, his red suit, his jangling present-filled sled.” He believed in him just as he believed in God, and he prayed to both. He prayed to Santa to bring him a gift that he saw in a store window when he was shopping with his father.
His father had a big party where Buddy ate his
first oyster and said, “It was like a bad dream sliding down my throat.” I can understand this, as I felt that way when I ate my first and only oster. The butter that was on it did not help. Mushrooms are like that too. Both of them are like eating uncooked dead goldfish. His father was like that oyster, at least to me, as Buddy was learned how his dad operated.
And his father wanted his love and asked him if he loved him; he wanted him to live with him also. Buddy wouldn’t tell him that he loved him, and he refused to live with him. When Buddy got home he sent his father a post card, and in that card he told him that he loved him. When his father died, Buddy found that post card in his dad’s safety deposit box. When my father died, I had gone to pick up his belongings. All that was left were some clothes and a few other items, but then I found a photograph album with photos of all us kids. Memories are far and few between when there is a divorce in the family. It was nice to know that our father had loved us in his own way, but sad to see that his life had little to show for it.
Update: I edited my review after reading this book again, and actually I didn’t read it, I listened to it, and the narrator, Reynolds Price, was excellent, but what is more, the book sounded different to me this time because Capote’s writing stood out to me more when it was read aloud for some reason. Capote was such a wonderful writer.
Miss Sook told him that perhapse there would be snow in New Orleans. Neither of them had ever seen snow, but Miss Sook loved it as Buddy had said, “Sook read me many stories, and it seemed a lot of snow was in almost all of them. Drifting, dazzling fairy tale flakes.” Of course there was no snow in New Orleans, which was a disappointment to him.
His father was happy to see him, and when he picked him up at the bus station, he was laughing and crying and then asked him, “Don’t you know me?” But that night Buddy just prayed to be home.
His father had already bought him a Christmas tree, which I felt should have been something that they should have done together, but at least they went into town to buy the ornaments for it.
What an estranged family, I thought. A mother who was not around, who left him in order to go to college and then got a job in New York. A mother who also said that his birth had destroyed her, which comment also destroyed him. Some things, like this, you just never get over. How hard it must have been for him to put this memory down in this Christmas story, that is, unless this story had been all made up. At least, I thought, “A Christmas Memory,” although also bitter-sweet, was mostly sweet. And then there was his dad: a man who drank a lot, and was a charming womanizer who married old women for their money.
Miss Sook had told him about Santa Claus, and so Buddy believed in him. Santa with his “flowing beard, his red suit, his jangling present-filled sled.” He believed in him just as he believed in God, and he prayed to both. He prayed to Santa to bring him a gift that he saw in a store window when he was shopping with his father.
His father had a big party where Buddy ate his
first oyster and said, “It was like a bad dream sliding down my throat.” I can understand this, as I felt that way when I ate my first and only oster. The butter that was on it did not help. Mushrooms are like that too. Both of them are like eating uncooked dead goldfish. His father was like that oyster, at least to me, as Buddy was learned how his dad operated.
And his father wanted his love and asked him if he loved him; he wanted him to live with him also. Buddy wouldn’t tell him that he loved him, and he refused to live with him. When Buddy got home he sent his father a post card, and in that card he told him that he loved him. When his father died, Buddy found that post card in his dad’s safety deposit box. When my father died, I had gone to pick up his belongings. All that was left were some clothes and a few other items, but then I found a photograph album with photos of all us kids. Memories are far and few between when there is a divorce in the family. It was nice to know that our father had loved us in his own way, but sad to see that his life had little to show for it.
Update: I edited my review after reading this book again, and actually I didn’t read it, I listened to it, and the narrator, Reynolds Price, was excellent, but what is more, the book sounded different to me this time because Capote’s writing stood out to me more when it was read aloud for some reason. Capote was such a wonderful writer.
December 21, 2019
Truman Capote is at his best when he is telling a story of his childhood. There is a delightful charm about his home in Alabama and Miss Sook, and there is a poignant sadness when he speaks of his father and mother, who sound like two truly lost souls.
In this story, Capote is forced to spend Christmas with his father in New Orleans, separated from Miss Sook and the life he loves. At six, he is grappling already with the possibility that Santa Claus might not be real, as an older cousin is happy to inform him.
Every element of the story is perfect and I could hear the voice of Capote himself spying on the little boy he was.
In this story, Capote is forced to spend Christmas with his father in New Orleans, separated from Miss Sook and the life he loves. At six, he is grappling already with the possibility that Santa Claus might not be real, as an older cousin is happy to inform him.
Every element of the story is perfect and I could hear the voice of Capote himself spying on the little boy he was.
Read
December 16, 2021Quando o tempo escasseia, os contos são uma boa aposta. Mas encontrar bons contistas não é fácil! Normalmente, a saída mais simples é a de admitir: não sou leitora de contos. Mas esta desculpa é um engano comum entre leitores.
Truman Capote aqui está para nos provar isso mesmo.
E é imprescindível salientar a sua subtileza e a capacidade que tem para tratar a autobiografia e o retrato com uma ferocidade e uma melancolia brilhantes.
E se o tom de A Christmas Memory é todo ele pensado para levar o leitor ao cúmulo da saudade e da recordação dos tempos felizes da infância, One Christmas usa de um tom completamente diferente - transições de narrador (criança/adulto), mudanças de ambiente, elementos e reflexões de teor mais negro (como a confissão de Buddy: "I tried not to listen, because by telling me my birth had destroyed her, she was destroying me"), e a sujeição à incerteza resultam numa leitura muito diferente entre os dois contos.
E se do anterior me recordava muito bem, este tinha-me passado de memória.
Estou decididamente interessada em ler mais de Capote.
Truman Capote aqui está para nos provar isso mesmo.
E é imprescindível salientar a sua subtileza e a capacidade que tem para tratar a autobiografia e o retrato com uma ferocidade e uma melancolia brilhantes.
E se o tom de A Christmas Memory é todo ele pensado para levar o leitor ao cúmulo da saudade e da recordação dos tempos felizes da infância, One Christmas usa de um tom completamente diferente - transições de narrador (criança/adulto), mudanças de ambiente, elementos e reflexões de teor mais negro (como a confissão de Buddy: "I tried not to listen, because by telling me my birth had destroyed her, she was destroying me"), e a sujeição à incerteza resultam numa leitura muito diferente entre os dois contos.
E se do anterior me recordava muito bem, este tinha-me passado de memória.
Estou decididamente interessada em ler mais de Capote.
August 16, 2015
There should have been a whole novel or a collection of short stories about Miss Sook.
The room was dark. Sook was sitting beside me, rocking in a rocking chair, a sound as soothing as ocean waves. I had tried to tell her everything that had happened, and only stopped when I was hoarse as a howling dog. She stroked her fingers through my hair, and said: "Of course there is a Santa Claus..."
The room was dark. Sook was sitting beside me, rocking in a rocking chair, a sound as soothing as ocean waves. I had tried to tell her everything that had happened, and only stopped when I was hoarse as a howling dog. She stroked her fingers through my hair, and said: "Of course there is a Santa Claus..."
December 12, 2014
Read with my 10 year old. She felt sorry for Buddy's dad and was glad when Buddy returned to Alabama to Miss Sook. Great story!
December 10, 2017
This is a very short story written by Truman Capote about one Christmas when he went to spend the holidays with his father, who lived in New Orleans, leaving behind his beloved Miss Sook – his much older, white-haired cousin, as well as his best friend - if only temporarily.
Having just read Truman Capote’s The Thanksgiving Visitor last month, I was familiar with the setting, and the people, and I was more than happy to return.
This was published originally in a 1982 issue of Ladies Home Journal, and later published by Random House in 1983 – making this the final published work of Capote before his death in 1984.
I have a copy of this book, but you can read this several places online for free. Here’s a link to one:
http://shortstorymasterpieces.altervi...
Having just read Truman Capote’s The Thanksgiving Visitor last month, I was familiar with the setting, and the people, and I was more than happy to return.
This was published originally in a 1982 issue of Ladies Home Journal, and later published by Random House in 1983 – making this the final published work of Capote before his death in 1984.
I have a copy of this book, but you can read this several places online for free. Here’s a link to one:
http://shortstorymasterpieces.altervi...
September 17, 2017
This was a well-written short story that was truly heartbreaking. I agree with another reviewer, I wish there were a whole collection of stories about Ms. Sook and his Alabama family. Highly recommended to fans of Truman.
November 13, 2013
My first (but not last) Capote:
http://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpres...
http://alittleteaalittlechat.wordpres...
December 12, 2025
I always wanted to read Capote, and I’m really glad I finally did. December felt like the right moment to pick up One Christmas. It reads like a memory being gently opened, not explained. Almost like when a child tells you something important without realizing how important it actually is.
I felt for Buddy the whole time. For the broken family, for the awkward silences, and even for his father. Adults can be so clumsy with feelings, sometimes more than children. And Buddy, in his innocence, just absorbs everything. You can feel how fragile a child’s heart is when it’s caught in the middle of adult messes.
And then there’s Santa Claus. The version Buddy learns from his mother’s side of the family. Not magic, not fantasy. Something quieter. Something about kindness, belief, and doing good even when things are hard. That part stayed with me.
It’s a small book, but it feels personal. Like a memory you didn’t live, but somehow recognize.
I felt for Buddy the whole time. For the broken family, for the awkward silences, and even for his father. Adults can be so clumsy with feelings, sometimes more than children. And Buddy, in his innocence, just absorbs everything. You can feel how fragile a child’s heart is when it’s caught in the middle of adult messes.
And then there’s Santa Claus. The version Buddy learns from his mother’s side of the family. Not magic, not fantasy. Something quieter. Something about kindness, belief, and doing good even when things are hard. That part stayed with me.
It’s a small book, but it feels personal. Like a memory you didn’t live, but somehow recognize.
January 19, 2022
Wonderfully human and sad--poignant. A need to love parents even when you dislike them is so beautifully expressed. Especially well-told from child's perspective--terrors and comforts.
" 'I'll give you what I learned from all this,' he said. 'Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love.' "
" 'I'll give you what I learned from all this,' he said. 'Accept what people offer. Drink their milkshakes. Take their love.' "
September 28, 2015
"Of course there is a Santa Claus. It’s just that no single somebody could do all he has to do. So the Lord has spread the task among us all. That’s why everybody is Santa Claus. I am. You are."
;___;
;___;
January 6, 2019
"Of course there is a Santa Claus. It’s just that no single somebody could do all he has to do. So the Lord has spread the task among us all. That’s why everybody is Santa Claus. I am. You are. Even your cousin Billy Bob. Now go to sleep. Count stars. Think of the quietest thing. Like snow."
December 8, 2024
3.5⭐️
A Christmas Memory’s follow-up and contextualization. In some ways lacks the heart and love from Memory, but does a wonderful job of exploring what a torn family feels like on the holidays.
A Christmas Memory’s follow-up and contextualization. In some ways lacks the heart and love from Memory, but does a wonderful job of exploring what a torn family feels like on the holidays.
December 1, 2023
This is not a sugar-coated Christmas story. But for all of its insight and realness, I kinda liked it. I don't like sad Christmas stories at all, but not all Christmases are ideal either. I think this walked a good line and was very short.
Own copy from my library
Own copy from my library
January 2, 2016
I don't like sap. I particularly don't like sappy Christmas stories (or songs or tv shows or display windows, added Ms. Scrooge). But I love Truman Capote and his autobiographical stories are some of his best, and if the last line of this incredibly sad memory of the one Christmas he spent with his alcoholic father, a stranger to him, is sappy, then - well, it is that, and it's fine. It's absolutely fine.
Someone here wrote that they wanted to read more of Capote's doting older cousin, here named Cousin Sook (her real name, fantastically, was Nanny Rumbley Faulk). I believe there are a couple of other stories that feature her - I want them too. I also want Miss Sook to sit by my bedside and soothe me until I fall asleep, as she did for "Bud", and I want her to explain to me and to every child disappointed to learn there is no Santa that the truth is everyone is Santa Claus, it had to be that way, because the job is just too big for one person.
Well damn, look there. Sap love, through and through.
Someone here wrote that they wanted to read more of Capote's doting older cousin, here named Cousin Sook (her real name, fantastically, was Nanny Rumbley Faulk). I believe there are a couple of other stories that feature her - I want them too. I also want Miss Sook to sit by my bedside and soothe me until I fall asleep, as she did for "Bud", and I want her to explain to me and to every child disappointed to learn there is no Santa that the truth is everyone is Santa Claus, it had to be that way, because the job is just too big for one person.
Well damn, look there. Sap love, through and through.
December 29, 2021
A heartwarming Christmas story by Truman Capote. It's autobiographical. It is a story about how he left Alabama one year to spend Christmas with his father in New Orleans. His parents had left him as a child to be raised by relatives in Alabama. He did not know his father and was afraid to leave Alabama and all he knew.
It is a touching well written story.
I also read and enjoyed 2 other short stories by Truman Capote, "A Christmas Memory" and "The Thanksgiving Visitor."
It is a touching well written story.
I also read and enjoyed 2 other short stories by Truman Capote, "A Christmas Memory" and "The Thanksgiving Visitor."
April 16, 2020
"Of course there is a Santa Claus. It’s just that no single somebody could do all he has to do. So the Lord has spread the task among us all. That’s why everybody is Santa Claus. I am. You are. Even your cousin Billy Bob. Now go to sleep. Count stars. Think of the quietest thing. Like snow. I'm sorry you didn't get to see any. But now snow is falling through the stars—."
February 10, 2022
This was floating around quite a bit on here in December, but I never got around to reading it and wanted to. It's available online below and worth a read if you're a fan of Capote and don't mind that Christmassy feeling in February. A nice little story that was tinged with sadness.
https://www.alisonpask.de/wp-content/...
https://www.alisonpask.de/wp-content/...
November 16, 2016
This was more of a somber Christmas story and my heart ached for the little guy. I did like what Miss Sook said about how we are all Santa Claus in our own way.
December 31, 2024
Your heart goes out to both the father and the son in this Christmas memory. Truman Capote's parents separated soon after his birth and he was left in the care of his Alabama maternal relatives while the parents went their separate ways. However, when he was 7, his father decided he wanted to have his son spend Christmas with him. As the story unfolds you learn about his parents and witness the strains that can be put on a child when parents divorce. Capote learns the truth about Santa Claus while his father becomes aware that his relationship with his son is imaginary as well.
March 7, 2016
I was hoping for another story like A Christmas Memory but this story just broke my heart. It is well written but it's not happy. I don't know why parents would manage a child in this way but I am grateful that Mr. Capote was able to get it down on paper, I hope that helped. Mr. Capote was special as a child and I desperately wish I could hug young Truman.
Here are a couple of good phrases:
"I will never forget my first oyster, it was like a bad dream sliding down my throat."
"Of course there is a Santa Claus. It's just that no single somebody could do all he has to do. So the Lord has spread the task among us all. That's why everybody is Santa Claus. I am. You are. Even your cousin Billy Bob."
"'Now go to sleep. Count stars. Think of the quietest thing. Like snow. I'm sorry you didn't get to see any. But now snow is falling through the stars.' Stars sparkled, snow swirled inside my head; the last thing I remembered was the peaceful voice of the Lord telling me something I must do. And the next day I did it."
Here are a couple of good phrases:
"I will never forget my first oyster, it was like a bad dream sliding down my throat."
"Of course there is a Santa Claus. It's just that no single somebody could do all he has to do. So the Lord has spread the task among us all. That's why everybody is Santa Claus. I am. You are. Even your cousin Billy Bob."
"'Now go to sleep. Count stars. Think of the quietest thing. Like snow. I'm sorry you didn't get to see any. But now snow is falling through the stars.' Stars sparkled, snow swirled inside my head; the last thing I remembered was the peaceful voice of the Lord telling me something I must do. And the next day I did it."
December 21, 2019
It’s hard to describe, but Capote’s way of telling these stories from his childhood is very... verbal. That’s not the right word, there’s definitely a word for it, but what I mean to say is that it feels much more like you’re being spoken to than reading words on a page. Something about the casual way of the telling and the use of punctuation and sentence structure makes you feel like Truman has pulled you aside and gone “Did I ever tell you about that time...” And it feels natural, like he’s reliving the events right along with you, but not scattered, like he’s told this story a million times and knows exactly where to do an impression or pause dramatically or shake his head.
The effect it produces is powerful: genuine and intimate. It’s a rare gift to be able to spin tales this way without it feeling hokey or like a put-on. And I can’t explain it but it just feels cosy, even among the sadness that lingers at the edges of this story.
The effect it produces is powerful: genuine and intimate. It’s a rare gift to be able to spin tales this way without it feeling hokey or like a put-on. And I can’t explain it but it just feels cosy, even among the sadness that lingers at the edges of this story.
December 14, 2019
I discovered the holiday stories of Truman Capote a few years ago,each has been a lovely,endearing story and this one was no different.These are "short" reads. This story of Truman sent to see his father in New Orleans at Christmas time, ripped away from his Alabama family. Insightful and warm.These are stories I will read every Christmas. If you have not discovered Truman Capote's holiday stories,do yourself a favor and try one. You won't regret it.
Read
August 11, 2016This is really a short story published all by itself. I grabbed it off the Christmas books display at the library. If you find it, check it out. So much said in so little space. It's a story that contains a lot of beginnings -- a lot of "now I realize this was the beginning of something..." I like it.
December 22, 2017
I love Truman Capote’s Christmas shorts. They are sweet, charming, and humorous. A glimpse into a rural southern childhood of another time. These stories let us see why Capote was such a great writer. If you only have a little time for a Christmas read, try these sweet treats!
February 27, 2016
Damn--Truman Capote always brings me to tears! I need to read one of his longer books, but I'm not sure I have enough tissue.
December 23, 2017
A very true story about Christmas and facing the harsh realities that a kid has to face. Such great writing for a classic, and a very enlightening story on Capote life as a young boy.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 82 reviews