Cotton Club

New York-- Toni Morrison makes you believe in the story, and the power of the story, but most of all you believe in her story. You can feel it right away in the way she talks. She has a low voice that can sound downright seductive as it sweeps along a sentence. She has the cadences down just right, the inflections. Just as in her writings, she strings along thoughts and words, one after the other -- building on them to an often unexpected but powerful conclusion. All you need is a campfire and a group of listeners reduced to ineffectual silence.

It's getting on toward midnight in Toronto and Lena Horne has her slacks on and her feet stretched out in boots and she's wearing a blousy man's jacket and she still looks as eerily glamorous as the star-struck Canadian night. She looks as good up-close as she did on stage, and she looks very good indeed on stage. Her luminous eyes and her high cheekbones and the rich curve of her flawless neck defined beauty for a couple of generations of American women, and men too. She's just finished her two-hour show, freshened up a bit and entertained a dozen admirers in her dressing room.