So I can’t post about the genius of Richard Yates fiction without recognizing that he is immortalized in a Seinfeld episode: “The Jacket,” Season 2, Episode 3. I stumbled upon this in a Wikipedia post no less. The story goes that Seinfeld co-creator and writer Larry David once dated Richard Yates’ daughter Monica and had a similar dinner experience as the one in “The Jacket,” in which infamous tough-guy actor Lawrence Tierney played Elaine Benes’ father.
Why was Richard Yates so grouchy? He was a terrific writer but his books did not sell. (It happens to the best of us.) There’s a figure quoted that none of his books sold more than 12,000 copies. And what’s worse, his novels were out of print late in his career! That’s adding insult to injury. While the two other writers I compare him to—J.D. Salinger and John Cheever—each had their bestsellers and popular acclaim, Yates languished in the publishing doldrums. I’d be pissed too. It makes Larry David seem a bit like a Forrest Gump character, the naif who stumbles his way through history.