George got a degree in International Relations from Dartmouth, then came to Wisconsin, where he eventually got a PhD in French literature, doing his dissertation with Germaine Brée. I can't remember exactly how it came to pass that he moved into our flat, although it must have been through the agency of some intermediary who was a friend to both him and us. He got a Fulbright fellowship for a year in Paris. That led to a vast series of letters from him to me, detailing everything he did, including illnesses, tricks, libraries, bars, vacations, concerts, books, people, food and drink. The detail was on the Proustian scale.
He was an indelible Romantic, much given to unrequited love affairs in the period before Madison. On the other hand, he frequently chided me for being a social butterfly, which in that period was probably an apt criticism. It wasn't that he didn't love a good time himself, however. Not many people enjoyed good food or good drink more than George did. His mother was a terrific cook, and she sent regular care packages stuffed with Armenian delicacies from the family manse in Bridgeport, CT.
After finishing his PhD he went off to Wellesley Collegeto teach. He also took up with his long-time boyfriend Michael, who had a place on Long Island, so George essentially commuted to Boston from New York for most of his professional career. He ended up becoming rather famous in LGB circles. He wrote regularly for the magazine Christopher Street, in which a lovely eulogy by Andrew Holleran appeared after George's death. He also edited the first four (three?) volumes of the Men on Men series, an ongoing collection of gay writing.
[more to come]