Also a Poet: Frank O'Hara, My Father, and Me

“Also A Poet: Frank O’Hara, My Father, And Me” (2022) is a lively and vivid biographical portrayal of the late celebrated poet Frank O’Hara, his artistic and creative works remain interwoven in the current American contemporary art forms and literary expression and culture. Ada Calhoun is a notable NYT bestselling author and ghost writer of numerous non-fiction books. In this original book, Calhoun’s desire to produce an O’Hara authorized biography was evident, as she worked to complete this book with her father, the notable art critic for the New Yorker Peter Schjeldahl (1942-). After Calhoun discovered the forgotten O’Hara tapes, found in the musty basement storage unit of the family home at Saint Marks located in lower Manhattan East Village (2018), Calhoun learned that in the 1970’s her father had been contracted by Harper/Roe to write the first significant O’Hara biography. After his interview with O’Hara’s youngest sister Maureen Granville Smith (the executor of O’Hara’s literary estate) and waiting for promised written materials that were never mailed, his book contract was revoked and cancelled. According to an O’Hara scholar, the interview with Maureen (understandably) had not gone well. Despite the passage of over 40 years, Calhoun was firmly convinced that she could gain Maureen’s approval and consent to continue and complete an O’ Hara biography. There was a noticeable suspense throughout the narrative as readers awaited Maureen’s reply. Calhoun also digitized the brittle tapes to preserve the historical value. Frank O’Hara (1926-66): was a famous openly gay writer/artist of the 1950's-60’s vibrant NYC literary community that centered around abstract expressionism and the New School Poetry scene. After serving in the Navy during WWII, using the GI Bill, O’Hara studied at Harvard University and graduated in 1950. O’Hara was the associate curator at the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), when he was killed in a freak accident involving a water taxi on Fire Island. To Calhoun’s dismay, her father recalled only vague impressions of O’Hara after meeting him a few times. On the tapes, (mainly recorded in 1977) O’Hara was fondly remembered by numerous celebrity friends, lovers, and those lesser known. Schjeldahl introduced Calhoun to O’Hara’s poetry “Lunch Poems” (1964) when she was a child. Considering her parents artistic “bohemian” lifestyle, it was challenging for her to attain any level of notice or validation from her indifferent, pre-occupied, self-absorbed father. As a teen, Calhoun was left at Saint Marks’s for long stretches of time while her parents vacationed in the Catskills, and quickly learned to independently fend for herself. Another time, while having lunch with her father and one of his more lecherous friends, she would cross her arms across her chest to block him from commenting and staring openly at her br...

I had great hopes for a memoir about one of my favorite poets and art critics—but this book is a repetitive slog that covers only the alcoholism and despair of these writers. Ada Calhoun never gets close to an understanding of their creativity and daring. Only their human misery — in her father’s case, his unfitness as a parent— ; and in O’Hara’s case his despair—is described in the same terms again and again. What a wasted opportunity. And never again will I trust reviewers who’ve hyped this book unconscionably.

A beautiful memoir about art and family and what happens when you sacrifice one for the other. More importantly, a truthful telling of what it’s like to be sacrificed for a parent’s art. Deeply, almost painfully honest excavation of her relationship with her father. She’s a luminous writer with a real gift for description. I could not put it down and read straight through. Even though the subject matter can hurt, she’s witty and knows how to keep a reader engaged. I laughed at parts even as I was crying. Highly recommend. To my mind, the best thing she has published, and that’s saying something.