Thomas Wolfe - Death

Death

In 1938, after turning in a large body of manuscript materials, over one million words, to his new editor, Edward Aswell, Wolfe left New York for a tour of the West. On the way, he stopped at Purdue University and gave a lecture, Writing and Living, then spent two weeks traveling through 11 national parks in the West, the only part of the country he had never visited before. Wolfe wrote to Aswell that while he had focused on his family in his previous writing, he would now take a more global perspective. In July, Wolfe became ill with pneumonia while visiting Seattle, spending three weeks in the hospital there. His sister Mabel closed her boardinghouse in Washington, DC and went to Seattle to care for him. Complications arose, and Wolfe was eventually diagnosed with miliary tuberculosis of the brain.

On September 6, he was sent to Baltimore's Johns Hopkins Hospital for treatment under the most famous neurosurgeon in the country, Dr. Walter Dandy, but an attempt at a life-saving operation revealed that the disease had overrun the entire right side of his brain. Without regaining consciousness, he died 18 days before his 38th birthday. His last writing, a journal of his two-week trip through the national parks, was found in his belongings hours after his death.

Despite his disagreements with Perkins and Scribner's, on his deathbed Wolfe wrote a deeply moving letter to Perkins, whom he considered to be his closest friend. He acknowledged that Perkins had helped to realize his work and had made his labors possible. In closing he wrote:

"I shall always think of you and feel about you the way it was that Fourth of July day three years ago when you met me at the boat, and we went out on the cafe on the river and had a drink and later went on top of the tall building, and all the strangeness and the glory and the power of life and of the city was below."

Thomas Wolfe is interred in Riverside Cemetery, Asheville, North Carolina, beside his parents, W.O. and Julia Wolfe, and his siblings.

The next day, The New York Times wrote: "His was one of the most confident young voices in contemporary American literature, a vibrant, full-toned voice which it is hard to believe could be so suddenly stilled. The stamp of genius was upon him, though it was an undisciplined and unpredictable genius.... There was within him an unspent energy, an untiring force, an unappeasable hunger for life and for expression which might have carried him to the heights and might equally have torn him down." Time wrote: "The death last week of Thomas Clayton Wolfe shocked critics with the realization that, of all American novelists of his generation, he was the one from whom most had been expected." Due to his early death, Wolfe spent the shortest amount of time writing of any major novelist during that time, with a career less than half as long as Fitzgerald, Hemingway, or Faulkner.