Butterfly in the Typewriter by Cory MacLauchlin

to know how to dance to it. Cary Laird asked his younger sister, Lynda, to give him some lessons, and Toole joined them to learn the latest moves. They cleared some space in the basement where they had set up a record player. They practiced dances like the Jitterbug and the Cha-Cha. And to Toole’s amusement, they covered the Dirty Bop, a provocative and taboo variation of the Jitterbug that had been banned from many school dance floors, which made it all the more interesting to teenagers.
    By all accounts Toole was a wonderful dancer. Evenings out for the students at Fortier usually included either going to a party, a school dance, a dance hall, or, on special occasions, the Blue Room at the Roosevelt Hotel. Of course, taking those first few steps into the rituals of dating can be awkward, especially as a teenager. But this meant the opportunity for new experiences and new humorous stories, which Toole eagerly shared with Laird. In his senior year, Toole dated a girl everyone called Buzzy, who, according to Lynda Laird, attended the prestigious Holy Name of Jesus School, in Uptown. In January of 1954, “Cat Nips” reported “Ken T. and Buzzy P” as “seen doing the town.” But Toole may have underestimated Buzzy’s level of devotion to the Catholic Church. One evening when Toole went to pick up Buzzy for a night out, she welcomed him into her house so he could offer the customary greeting to
her parents. Her mother, unaware of Toole’s arrival, yelled down from the second floor, “Buzzy, you’d better get some romance before you become a nun!” Buzzy was humiliated. Toole was amused. But perhaps Buzzy’s devotion to clergy life was not as firm as her mother believed. Toole told Laird that he broke up with her when she brought up the topic of marriage.
    Whatever embarrassment Buzzy suffered paled in comparison to Toole’s embarrassment over his own parents. In regard to dating, his father had an unobtrusive piece of advice: “Kenny boy,” he would say, “you need to beware of loose women!” His mother, however, took a different approach. While she maintained that she stayed out of her son’s business when it came to dating, Laird told a different story. According to his account, Thelma would sometimes follow her son on dates. This was not necessarily typical behavior but happened enough times for Laird to retell the story to his sister. Thelma undeniably coveted her relationship with her son. He was everything to her. And while she wanted him to be desired, she also harbored anxiety that he might one day abandon her. She often said that the ladies loved him, but “he only had eyes for her.” And she was convinced that she was his only confidant. This intensity may have stifled Toole’s growth toward independence. What was once heartwarming devotion between a young boy and his mother became somewhat distorted in high school—a crucial time when a young man explores relationships with others, as he envisions what form his life will take once out from under the roof of his parents.
    Regardless of his mother’s intrusions, Toole gained a reputation for being an enjoyable date—a good dancer, polite, always well dressed. It was a reputation he carried into college and beyond. But romantic interests always seemed secondary to his drive to achieve some form of greatness. What that form was still remained unclear. However, in high school, his energetic exploration of writing styles suggested a particular direction.
    Toole’s academic essays show his interest in both popular culture and history. In “Television, Tomorrow’s Entertainment,” he returned to the idea that he muttered to John Geiser on their way to school in kindergarten. Citing historical and statistical evidence, and noting the decline in attendance at cinemas, Toole argues for the growing trend
and popularity of television. He declares at the end of the