Woody Allen has done a pretty good job writing films, books, plays, and jokes but they’re nothing compared to his letter. OK, those works are great but read some of these letters he writes Diane Keaton:
From 1969, around when they performed together in Play it Again, Sam:
Beet Head,Humans are clean slates. There are no qualities indigenous to men or women. True, there is a different biology, but all defining choices in life affect both sexes & a woman, any woman is capable of defining herself with total FREEDOM. Therefore women are anything they choose to be & frequently have chosen & defined themselves greater than men. Don’t be fooled by THE ARTS! They’re no big deal; certainly no excuse for people acting like jerks & by that I mean, so what if up till now there were very few women artists. There may have been women far deeper than, say, Mozart or Da Vinci but contributing their genius in a different socially circumscribed context. Note how I switched from pen to pencil at this moment because in Lelouch’s film, A MAN & A WOMAN, he switches from color to black & White—So I underline my point using the same symbolism—Very clever? OK, then, very stupid.Woody
From 1974/5 around when they worked together on Love and Death:
Greetings Worm,I am jettisoning some old socks in my travel bag to make room for some idiot’s sunflower seeds. Guess who? You, my pal, are my cross to bear.So they’re saying I’m a genius—but you know better, you little hellgrammite. Are you sure they’re not calling me “White Thing?” “And he changes his underwear to sleep in.” And all the things you call me rather than genius? I am tortured by the most incredible dreams of sexuality that revolve around you and a large 2E BRA that speaks RussianThat genial pal and good egg, Woody
(Dear future girlfriend, get ready to be called “Beet Head,” you beet head). They are both from Keaton’s memoir, Then Again, and you can read a couple more over at Letter of Note.
