September 12th, 2019
In Philosophy
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Roulhac Toledano and my mom
(written by lawrence krubner, however indented passages are often quotes). You can contact lawrence at: lawrence@krubner.com, or follow me on Twitter.
My mom did not get credit for co-writing the Coty book, but ask Roulhac nowadays and she tells everyone that my mom co-wrote the Coty book.
This type of relationship, between the charming impresario and the quiet writer type apparently repeats generation after generation. I feel like I saw this scene with my own eyes. In some ways, I did. In particular, the way Roulhac would be feeling low and defeated, but then cheer up when my mom arrived to save the day.
When I walked into Caroline’s room in Cambridge, I saw a trash can full of daffodils beside a trash can full of prosecco corks. She had ripped up the wall-to-wall carpet and shoved the squares into her closet because she had always wanted exposed wood floors, but you couldn’t even step out of bed without getting splinters. I spent my first couple of days adjusting from jet lag and pulling shards of wood from my feet with nail clippers. But Caroline was so happy to see me I was almost taken aback. She had been so down, like everything was falling apart, she told me, but now that I was here, she felt rejuvenated and she wanted to show me everything.
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