Larry L. King, Harper's Magazine, March 1967.
Excerpt:
We sized each other up like two fighters in mid-ring, Buckley hooking me with a couple of jokes and scoring with an anecdotal right-cross: “When I sent Norman Mailer a copy of my latest book I turned over to the index in the back and wrote ‘Hi!’ by his name. Knowing Mailer, he’ll immediately go to the index to evaluate his own role, and that ‘Hi !’ will just kill him!” We sipped our coffee and laughed at Norman Mailer. Buckley chuckled at a couple of my stories, didn’t counterpunch when I jabbed him lightly with a couple of my Leftist wisdoms, and was such an eager host that he plopped two ersatz sweet pills into my coffee over protests that I never use sugar. He used all his equipment: the deep, rolling voice; flourishing, theatrical gestures with the cigar; the leaping eyebrows, popping eyes, and the smile that bursts suddenly to display a great sea of teeth.
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