And They Called It Camelot: A Novel of Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis

by Stephanie Marie Thornton

Voltaire had once written that illusion is the first of all pleasures.

Is politics all these Kennedy men think about? I wondered to myself. I’d soon discover the answer was yes, with very few exceptions.

Every president I’ve ever met—and this old fossil has known them all back to McKinley—is already full of himself as it is.”

Was there any crueler fate than being imprisoned in one’s own body,

We all had our own tragedies to live. And, in the end, death would claim us all.

I leaned down to whisper in my son’s ear. “John, you can salute Daddy now and say good-bye to him.” My sweet little boy who had turned three years old that morning relinquished my hand, then stepped forward and stood at attention in his blue suit before lifting his tiny hand in a perfect salute. Click. I didn’t have to hear the cameras to know that unlike all of us, that brutal, precious image would withstand the cruel ravages of time.

it’s a Greek custom that there should be a few tears at every wedding and a little laughter at every funeral,” he said. “So if you find anything funny tonight, don’t be afraid to laugh. I suspect your father would love to hear the sound.”

keep thinking of are these lyrics from the Camelot musical. At night, I’d get out of bed and play Camelot on a ten-year-old Victrola. Jack especially liked that last bit of the last song: ‘For one brief shining moment there was Camelot.’”

“I’m glad she takes solace in religion, but frankly, right now, I don’t know where the hell God is in all of this.”