Open-mindedness enriches routine, in Truman Capote's book. In Blake Edwards's insipid film, mindlessness exaggerates luck. Life's complexity disappoints those exhilarated by cinematic short-cuts. Yet, the disappointed rarely blame movies for their condition.
A theatre production or a movie, made and watched collectively, is designed to synchronously evoke shared emotions---typically, uplifting ones, as individuals seek company in joy and seclusion in grief. The requisite commonality degrades the production of an incapable director. A book, received in solitude, welcomes the nuance, which would wane at a séance.
A good book, too, misrepresents, as no intelligent author of good taste can bear late nights of exploring the mind of an unintelligent protagonist of poor taste. Misrepresentation advances art. Truman Capote's misrepresentations are consistent and intelligent.
Capote captures the essence of the traveller's attitude. Keep moving until you feel at home. ("I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together.") Recognise friends in strangers. ("For I was in love with her. Just as I'd once been in love with my mother's elderly coloured cook and a postman who let me follow him on his rounds and a whole family named McKendrick.") Be true to a goal. ("That's how your stories sound. As though you'd written them without knowing the end.")