This very short piece was a delightful, autobiographical story by Truman Capote. This is the first thing I've ever read by him. Perfect to read on this Christmas Eve while I'm dealing with some wonderful, yet sad, memories of my own during this holiday season. I also love the beautiful illustrations in this book. 5 stars all the way!

It's Fruitcake Weather!
Review of the Alfred A. Knopf hardcover edition (2006) of the original Mademoiselle magazine article (1956)

A Christmas Memory is Truman Capote's (1924-1984) short story memoir of his childhood self and the rituals surrounding Christmases spent with his elderly female cousin and their dog Queenie in Depression era rural Alabama. It covers their leadup to Christmas with the preparation of fruitcakes in November (one of which is sent to the Roosevelts in the White House), the making of simple handcrafted Christmas presents and the joy of kite flying. This 2006 Knopf edition is considerably enhanced by the lovely detailed illustrations of Beth Peck which are a complete delight. The illustrations were first included in a 1989 printing.

This edition includes an audiobook version narrated by Celeste Holm on CD as a bonus. It seemed as if Holm reads it a bit too fast at 26 minutes. I think that impression comes from it being too much of a contrast to your own leisurely reading of the print version, where you will linger over the details of the charming illustrations.

My thanks to Karan for this delightful gift!

Trivia and Links
A Christmas Memory has had many adaptations for TV, stage and recordings. The 1966 version for television with actress Geraldine Page as Cousin Sook and voiceover narration by Truman Capote can be seen on YouTube here.

Truman Capote gave his own reading on a 1959 LP for United Artists which you can also hear on YouTube here. Capote's reading is about 33.5' minutes (there is music at the beginning and end of the 37' album).

This was the sweetest story. I loved the premise which is actually a reflection of the author’s own life and is set in the time of the Great Depression. A grown man is reminiscing on a childhood Christmas memory with his best friend. What makes their friendship so special is that “Buddy” is only 7 and his best friend is his elderly female, childlike cousin whom he had lived with as a child. They are on a search for the ingredients to make fruitcakes as Christmas gifts for thirty people- but they have no funds. Their innocence is charming and their love for each other is sweet. There are so many wonderful details packed into this story that make it funny and beautiful and sad, but the ending is so touching. I loved how it captured the essence of Christmas with themes of love and giving when times were much simpler. It makes one want to create special traditions/memories to be passed down through the generations. (And it reminded me of how my mom who, for as long as I can remember, has made fruitcakes at Christmas for everyone and their brother, taking pride in proclaiming that her recipe is unlike the rest!) 5 stars

3.75|5

"It's fruitcake weather!"

When I started reading this, I was so sure it was nonfiction, I had to double check just to be sure Goodreads didn’t make a mistake in shelving this as fiction. Truman’s voice is so original and it rings so true, it was a delight to read it, even if the undertones were so bleak.
The friendship was truly endearing and the descriptions so beautiful, I had no problem in emerging myself completely in this small book.
I recommend it wholeheartedly for this time of year.

One of the most beautiful stories I have every read. Wonderful writing and it brought happiness & then tears to my eyes. My copy also has the most wonderful illustrations. A new favorite Christmas Story.

Re-read and added a star.

Truman Capote’s childhood memory of his adored cousin, the “sixty-something” yet childlike best friend of his youth, is brimming with richly evoked country seasonal preparations to immerse you in the holiday spirit.

“Scented acres of holiday trees, prickly-leafed holly. Red berries shiny as Chinese bells: black crows swoop upon them screaming. Having stuffed our burlap sacks with enough greenery and crimson to garland a dozen windows, we set about choosing a tree. ‘It should be,’ muses my friend, ‘twice as tall as a boy. So a boy can’t steal the star.’ The one we pick is twice as tall as me.”

They struggle hauling the heavy thing home, and a car carrying a rich mill owner’s wife stops and the wife offers to buy the tree off of them for “twobits.” The cousin refuses.

“'We wouldn’t take a dollar.’

“The mill owner’s wife persists. ‘A dollar, my foot! Fifty cents. That’s my last offer. Goodness, woman, you can get another one.’

“In answer my friend gently reflects : ‘I doubt it. There’s never two of anything.’”

This is what simple people understand that the rich often do not: appreciation for the uniqueness of what we have.

This is the perfect holiday story. It reminds you that your life, your cherished memories, your odd traditions … whatever they are, they are one of a kind. Don’t waste your time wishing for what someone else has. What you have is perfect for you. Cherish it, as Truman Capote cherished his memories in this story.

این کتاب شامل سه داستان خاطره گونه هست از کودکی نویسنده در حدود هفت هشت سالگی که جدای از پدر و مادرش و در شهر دیگری پیش اقوامی (که یک برادر و سه خواهر بودن که هرگز ازدواج نکردن) زندگی میکنه. یکی از این خواهرها که حدود شصت ساله هست نزدیکترین دوست بچه هست و این دو نفر پای ثابت هر سه داستان هستند
توی هر سه داستان رگه هایی از پندهای اخلاقی به چشم میاد ولی اونقدر شدید نیست که دل رو بزنه

I am always looking for books to read in the upcoming Christmas season. I saw this book in a catalog, and thought I would read it first from the library. I'm glad I saved my money and did not buy it.

While beautifully written it is a terribly sad and tragic book, not one that I would want to bring out from year to year and read over again. Perhaps a better title would have been "A Christmas memory -- some sweet but alot bitter and unhappy". It is largely autobiographical, which explains much as Truman Capote had a wretched childhood. The book relates the story of a little 7 year old boy and his elderly woman cousin whom he calls "my friend". Both of them are unloved and unwanted. The other relatives in the house are portrayed only through anger and shrillness. Buddy, as the boy is called, and his friend escape the unhappiness of the house by withdrawing to themselves.

The sweet memories include making fruitcakes to send to strangers who have entered their lives, searching for the perfect Christmas tree, and enjoying belonging to each other and loving each other. However, the book ends when Buddy is sent away to school and his cousin eventually dies. After this Christmas memory, he never sees her again.

There is no real understanding of Christmas, and no hope... only the numbing sorrow of a child who found someone to love him and someone he could love, and in the end is separated from that person forever.

A beautiful little Christmas tale, based on Capote’s memories of being brought up by his mother’s family in 1930s Alabama. The 7-year-old narrator has an unlikely close friendship with a 60-something cousin, who despite her age is herself “still a child”.

Capote’s memories of this time in his life were probably made sweeter because he was subsequently sent to a military school where he was very unhappy. Indeed the story is tinged with sadness as the years move on, but that adds to rather than detracts from the beauty of the story. It’s superbly written as you would expect from Capote, and is touching without ever being maudlin.

A beautiful, soulful collection of memories from the southern states of USA. A young person’s recollection where children are to the forefront and who are the best ambassadors for this holiday season.
It made me reflect on the stories of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn and the wonderful characters writers can fashion out of kids, their turn of speech and idiosyncratic ways.
A sense of hard times abounds amount these communities but nothing gets in the way of tradition, neighbourliness and sense of belonging.
Each story is well crafted you feel transported to another world, see the barrenness and the hick towns. Sense the harsh weather and dusty roads while being enveloped in the spirit of struggle and perseverance.

Christmas is a wonderful time, regardless of embracing its spiritual roots. As this book of stories demonstrates it is about one’s responsibility to others, a generous heart and an united bond across family and community.

At a time of great upheaval and restrictions on our own way of life and celebrations this gem of a book by a renowned author warmed my heart.

I can remember first hearing this story read to me when I was in 5th grade. The reader broke down crying, which even at a young age, struck me how emotionally powerful this story remains. It's my favorite Christmas tradition - every Christmas Eve, when I finally retire, I take my worn copy of Capote's A Christmas Memory, snuggle into bed, and transport to a different time. I have an old video of A Christmas Memory narrated by Capote, so I continue to hear his distinct high-pitched voice speak the story as I read. Capote's words are patiently and precisely picked to paint a beautiful memory of his beloved best friend. Every time I read, I discover something new. My favorite scene - where the lazy Miller's wife tries to buy Buddy and Sook's tree, after they spent hours finding it, is summed up nicely by Sook: "There's never two of anything in this world." It's those moments that I love to revisit every Christmas.

I came to A Christmas Memory searching for another classic I could add to my holiday traditions. The holiday season is a time of comforting rituals. I reread A Christmas Carol every December, often O Henry’s Gift of the Magi as well. Would this tale be ritual worthy?

That answer was an emphatic Yes! Capote, apparently creating an autobiographical story, displays genius in this tale. I mean, he wrote a powerful Christmas tale about a lonely child in the Depression Era South that is completely devoid of schmaltzy sentimentality. With a wonderful economy of language he lines the bond between the narrator, a seven year old boy, and his only friend, a gray haired lady in tennis shoes who “is still a child.” Both of them are dependents living together in less than benign neglect with an unspecified number of unnamed relatives. And when late November brings “fruitcake weather,” the adventures of their seasonal rituals began. This tale is a small wonder, worthy of ritual yearly readings.