Works

Carolyn’s article in Contemporary Authors Autobiography Series, Volume 22 is available for download and printing as a .pdf file. Click here to download. You will need a copy of Acrobat reader.

CAROLYN SEE, TRACER OF LOST PERSONS! If you are any of the following, or if you know the whereabouts of the following, please write to Carolyn by clicking here.

Marliss Angel
Marliss, Joan Wilheim just sent me a photo of us in our twenties under a bridge in Paris. I remember you mostly for your french phrases “a la consigne!” Or, in every town we went through, “Ou est las poste?” because you were writing to that handsome pilot, Sgt Guy Claire. I’ve looked you up in the Cassis and La Ciotat phone books, but you’re gone. Where are you, dear?

Edward Weston Bonney III. 
Oh, Ed, every time I do a signing here in town, someone is bound to come up to me and ask where you are and what you’re doing. And when I’m in Rogue River, Oregon, I dutifully call all the Bonneys in town, but I still draw a blank. I have a picture of you wearing a cool dude beret , playing a flute … I think of you often, remembering Cal State LA and you dolefully singing “Spring can really Hang you up the most…”

RICHARD EVERETT JONES…
Wouldn’t you be about 71 right now? Your memories would include a couple of years at Los Angeles City College, a love of surrealism, a room on the second floor of the Brevoort Hotel in Hollywood. And I can tell you that Gus Tassapolous and I were talking about you the other day. ( I don’t want any old Tom, Dick or Harry Jones to get in touch with me on this. Your dad had a rather unusual occupation, that can be the code word.) I have many happy memories of you, Mr. Jones!

ROBERT JONES…
How can we narrow this down? You’d be about 70 by now. How strange is that? Your memories might include wearing white socks while stationed at Argentia Air Force Base in Newfoundland, and nearly getting shipped to Thule for that insurrection. You went to a mean seminary where they fed you white bread and hot chocolate made with water. What’s the name of the tenor saxaphone player we both used to like?

WINONA LAURENZ…
The way women change names, I don’t know just what your name would be now, Winona. But I think of you so often. We were waitresses together at the old Van de Kamps. You were so kind to a scared little girl who’d been kicked out of her house. You took me shopping, and introduced me to modern jazz (“Have you ever heard of Lee Konitz?”) And showed me it was ok to live alone, and be on my own, and have some fun. You called me by my last name then, “Laws…” Where are you, dear?

Carolyn See’s book reviews appear in The Washington Post’s Friday Style section. Click here to view this week’s article.

Some of Carolyn’s Book Reviews:

New York Times — Review of Angela Carter’s Nights at the Circus
The Press Democrat — Larry King’s Anything Goes