Gif of swifty lazar dancing11/29/2023 Now the two women look at each other, and there is nothing to do but end the meeting with abashed apologies on both sides. With this in mind, it did not occur to the beautiful lady to tell her husband about this interview. Mary Lazar has also assumed that an article would be incomplete without her. So it would be foolish not to interview his wife of 21 years. What is peculiar is not only that Irving lazar knows that the reporter has come to California on a story about him but that he has met with her twice, has been speaking to her on the phone for weeks, calling her-sounding cheerful, excited-when he thinks of a “distinguished” or “amusing” person for her to talk to about him, giving her scores of celebrities’ home phone numbers and beach-house numbers and hotel phone numbers, reminding her of the many books in which he is mentioned-Olivier’s book, Niven’s book-calling her again to find out if she has called his famous clients (“Did you talk to Henry Kissinger? Did you talk to David Brinkley?”).Īfter some weeks of this, it has begun to seem that Lazar will not rest until the reporter has spoken to every distinguished and amusing person who has ever crossed his path. ![]() ![]() and Teddy White and Ira Gershwin and Comden and Green and Neil Simon and Josh Logan and Betty Bao Lord and Lauren Bacall and Herman Wouk and Richard Nixon and, formerly, Noël Coward and Moss Hart and George Kaufman and Cole Porter, among others. The beautiful lady’s husband is Irving Lazar, at 76 still the most renowned literary agent in the world-the tiny, manic, lone-wolf deal-maker, self-styled dandy, bi-coastal commuter, globe-trotter, connoisseur, agent and friend to Irwin Shaw and Truman Capote and Arthur Schlesinger Jr. So the beautiful lady and the reporter stare at each other for a while. ‘Don’t talk to that girl! Don’t tell her anything!’ Isn’t that strange?” “Irving said the strangest thing just now,” she said. ![]() It was the beautiful lady’s husband, and so she left the room to take the call in another office. ![]() The two of them were chatting for ten or fifteen minutes about movies, screenplays, stars, options, and the lady, who runs her own independent production company, was gracious, animated, opinionated, down-to-earth. They are silent, sheepish, like schoolgirls who have been collared in the hall by a teacher and sent to the principal’s office with no idea of the offense they have committed. The beautiful lady and the reporter sit facing each other on wicker sofas in the lady’s small but elegant Los Angeles office.
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