Patricia Hampl at The American Scholar:
She too was a link, though a precious one, the only living connection to the ghost I stalked. Katherine Mansﬁeld. The romantic renegade writer, older by five years at her death at 34 in January 1923 than I was/am on this June day in 1975.
My ﬁrst “trip abroad” (a phrase then still common, oddly antique now). The journey from home in St. Paul had been made for this encounter, to interview Mansﬁeld’s best friend, possibly a one-time lover, it was said—would the girl burdened with ﬂowers and tape recorder nerve up to inquire about that ?
LM was the ancient leftover not only of their relationship, but of their world. She, Leslie Moore, had been coaxed into writing a memoir—Katherine Mansfield: The Memories of LM—by the man wearing the stiff boater. And now she had agreed to let “a young American” who had read her book meet its author for an interview.