Religion distorted late twentieth century New York culture. For instance, I hosted a dinner party, and among the guests were the poet, priest and political activist, Daniel Berrigan, and the literary agent and retired epistemologist, John Brockman. John spoke nary a word. Afterwards I asked him about it, and he confessed: “I can’t help it. Maybe it’s growing up in Boston. But I hate Irish priests.” I didn’t think it would help matters to explain that Dan is more German than Irish; John is Jewish.
Andy Warhol and Allen Ginsberg hated each other. Allen was a windbag; Andy had a rapier wit. I met them both as interview subjects, and had prepared an hour’s worth of questions. Andy answered my questions quickly and wittily in about fifteen minutes; he then interviewed me. Allen somehow spent eight hours answering the same number of questions. It makes me wonder if Whitman, too, was a windbag. Warhol was a non-practicing homosexual and practicing Catholic. Ginsberg was an active pederast. Warhol uttered some hilarious remarks about Allen in my interview; it was only after Andy died that Allen learned Andy was a church-goer. He enlisted Burroughs to co-pronounce this ludicrous judgment: Catholicism invalidated Warhol’s art.
picture from Ishmael Sundarban’s website
No one asked Gregory Corso. Some of Allen’s best friends were Catholics, but they daren’t express it in his presence. I got Allen to sign a limited edition to raise money to pay some of Dan’s legal bills. But Allen would not appear on the same stage as Dan. Hannah Weiner hosted a Christmas Eve party many years ago. Gregory Corso, Erika Rothenberg and I went together. At a quarter to twelve, Erika and I got ready to leave. “I’ll come with you,” Gregory said. “We’re going to midnight mass,” I told him. A look of fear and revulsion passed across Gregory’s face. “I’ll stay here,” he said.
