posted on 19 Mar 2023

Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote

Truman Capote’s beautifully crafted novella, Breakfast at Tiffany’s is likely to be the work that most people would associate him with – and I suspect that’s largely because of the fame of the movie adaptation and the casting of Audrey Hepburn as the story’s central character, Holly Golightly. Having reread Breakfast after probably thirty years or so, I’m struck again by what an egregious piece of casting that was. Whatever the qualities of the film, effectively capturing the nuance and subtlety of the novella was not one of them.

Breakfast can be read in a single afternoon or evening but it feels like a much bigger book than that. The story of Holly is told by an unnamed narrator – a would-be writer – who is totally infatuated by this mysterious force of nature who seems able to manipulate and fascinate any man she comes into contact with. The roots of her power remain mysterious – she’s not a great beauty, she’s desperately self-centred, indiscreet and has a past that comes back to cast a terrible shadow.

What plot-lines there are come across as pretty perfunctory – Holly’s mysterious prison visits to Mr Sally Tomato and the subsequent drug-running accusations; her flirtation with a handsome Brazilian and her typically impulsive decision to decamp to Brazil despite being dumped by said romantic interest; the cruel abandonment of her rescue cat. Despite the seeming exoticism of these plot-threads, it soon becomes clear that these are simply here to do one job - cast light and shade on Holly herself.

The more infuriated the narrator gets with Holly’s seeming fecklessness and thoughtlessness, the more we start to see that she’s not a two-dimensional flirt but a character with complex emotions, a difficult back-story that suggests child abuse and someone whose seeming self-assurance masks a sense of deeply felt insecurity and a desire to find that something special she thinks life should be and which she knows is out there. It is this desire to find her own version of the promised land that gives the book its title: the perfect life, Holly imagines, is the ability to take breakfast in an establishment like Tiffany’s whenever she desires it.

Holly’s search for her personal Nirvana means she will never find peace – she will always have to be a free spirit and anyone trying to get too close or too attached is likely to suffer:

"Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell,[…] If you let yourself love a wild thing, you'll end up looking at the sky." 

The narrator, while never having a conventional romantic relationship with Holly moves in and out of love with her – or maybe it’s more accurate to say that the temperature of his infatuation heats and cools across the time the story covers. In the end, he’s not surprised when Holly disappears from New York and he’s come to terms with her need to stay on the move, always seeking what probably can never be found.

The strength of the novella – the remarkable multi-faceted portrait of Holly Golightly -  is also it’s potential weakness. The book requires you to be fascinated by the hero, even when she’s much more of an anti-hero, and if you’re not then the whole confection is in danger of deflating. There were times when I came very close to thinking that Holly was simply infuriating and such a pain-in-the-bum that I’d rather spend my time hitting my knee-caps with a hammer than spend time with her. But, just as you want to snap the book shut, Capote comes up with a bit of writing or a new angle that draws you back in. But I can easily see how it could go the other way and you’d end up hurling the book across the room.

Anyway, find out for yourself. Paperback copies are readily available in a number of different editions and you’ll pay well under £10 for a copy.

 

Terry Potter

March 2023