In 1965, Andy Warhol made a film in which the 82-year-old dancer and gay camp idol Paul Swan, once called "The Most Beautiful Man in the World," is shown trying to recreate one of his youthful performances, unintentionally making a mockery of his past grace. The authors (Dear Yeats, Dear Pound, Dear Ford
) of this insightful and compassionate biography take account of this and other pathetic aspects of Swan's old age, but for the most part they emphasize the positive side of his life. Raised on a Midwestern farm in a family dominated by a rigidly Methodist mother, Swan left home at 15, adopted a bohemian life style based on Oscar Wilde's dictum of art for art's sake, and became a successful portrait painter and sculptor as well as an actor, a poet and a leading exponent of classical dance. Bisexual, married and the father of two children, he was the quintessential eccentric, especially in his later years when he wore quantities of makeup, bathed in olive oil and stuffed his pants with socks to make himself appear better endowed. The Londravilles don't focus on these oddities. Their book succeeds because they concentrate on Swan's considerable artistic achievements, especially his accomplished portraits. (Mar.)
