What will follow is a series of celebratory announcements. But as I write these notes we have received the unhappy news of George Plimpton’s death. And so it seems fitting to pause, to interject a salute in his memory. Urbane, self-deprecating, fun, and very, very funny, George Plimpton was a marvelous writer and, as editor of the Paris Review, one of the most influential figures in American literature for the last generation. George was a most welcome guest at last autumn’s Kenyon Review Award for Literary Achievement. He enjoyed the food and drink, enjoyed the company—and the rest of us enjoyed the wit of his remarks. Preparations for a fiftieth anniversary gala for Paris were well advanced at the time of his death. The event must now be bittersweet, but there is all the more to celebrate in his personal achievements and those of his magazine.
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