"You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."

3.5 stars
Although I wouldn't necessarily consider this Capote's best work (In Cold Blood will always be my favorite), I connected with it differently now than I did the first time, specifically Holly.

She has no boundaries and is carefree, distant, shameless, sensitive, and flighty. Her promises are only temporary, and her mystery draws you in as it draws in the narrator. Where did she come from? Where will she end up? Will she ever find peace and the home she so wants to have? There's something simultaneously false and genuine about her.

There's a strong possibility that fans of the movie may not like her or the barely-there somewhat melancholic story, but I appreciated the meandering mood that would fit a slow Sunday afternoon. Wistful, but never superficial.

PS. David Attie's photographs that accompanied the story in the 1958 issue of Esquire are perfection.