One of my favorite non-fiction pieces so far this year is “The Secret Life of a Society Maven,” an article in the New York Times by Alan Feuer. Last year, Feuer tracked down his doppelganger, a seeming cash-poor society swell of Austrian descent named Alan Z. Feuer, and wrote an article about this eccentric old word figure. But when the elder Feur died recently, his journalistic namesake learned a more complete backstory, a Gatsby-esque tale of deception and reinvention. An excerpt:

“One day, 20 messages appeared in my inbox: notes from Alan’s friends, who had seen my piece last spring and were writing to inform me of ‘his passing.’ There were links to Alan’s Facebook page and to a guest book on Legacy.com. There I found my counterpart passionately praised, in dozens — hundreds — of posts as ‘the last true society gentleman,’ ‘the Grand Patriarch of New York City balls,’ ‘the Oscar Wilde of our time.’

‘Alan,’ someone wrote, ‘your Waltz will be danced forever in the lives of all those you have touched with the love of White Gloves and White Ties. Rest in peace, dear friend, and save a dance.’

At last, there was only one unopened message in my queue. Saddened, I clicked it. This is what it said:

Dear Mr. Feuer,

Ever since reading your article about the other Alan Feuer, I have thought about writing to you. I had no desire to disrupt his life while he was alive, but since he has passed away, I am wondering if you would be interested in learning the truth about his background.

The writer, I was shocked to find, was the other Alan’s stepniece; she told me she had known him since she was 5. Her letter laid out the family’s relationships — I knew that Alan was estranged — and then concluded on a melancholy note.

While the adult life he described to you was certainly true, his background was far from the one he claimed. If you would be interested in further information about this sad and, I think, somewhat troubled man, please feel free to contact me.

Needless to say, I did.”