Dancing to Prince

A surprise appearance by Prince, a month ago, for a memoir announcement at a Manhattan night club, had the satisfying elements you might imagine: brilliance, humor, otherworldliness, tardiness, costume changes, funkiness, eccentricity. He stood on a glass balcony above us, as if he’d descended to earth as an act of generosity. And, in fact, he had. “I literally just got off the plane,” he told us. “I’m going to go home and change and put some dancing clothes on.” He was already wearing what I’d consider dancing clothes: a purple-and-gold striped pajama suit. He put a huge pair of sunglasses on. “Now I can see,” he said.