In 1950, at the age of twenty-four, William Clark Styron, Jr., wrote to his mentor, Professor William Blackburn of Duke University. The young writer was struggling with his first novel, Lie Down in Darkness, and he was nervous about whether his strain and toil would amount to anything. When I mature and broaden, Styron told Blackburn, I expect to use the language on as exalted and elevated a level as I can sustain. I believe that a writer should accommodate language to his own peculiar personality, and mine wants to use great words, evocative words, when the situation demands them.
amp;#160; n 1953, Styron was awarded the Rome Prize of the American Academy in Rome, which crowned him a literary star. In Europe, Styron not only married Rose Burgunder of Baltimore but found himself immersed in a new generation of expatriate writers. His friendship with George Plimpton, Peter Matthiessen, and James Jones culminated in Styron introducing the debut issue of The Paris Review. Surrounded by young, ambitious litterateurs, Styron wrote in conversation and competition with his peers. As he embarked on a long an