vol5-no1

BEGINNING

TRI-QUARTERLY

VOLUME

5

NUMBER

ONE

70¢

NORTHWESTERN UNIVERSITY

FALL

Alvina Krause Forever

3

Beginning

William Thomas

Page

A Primer for The New Student

13

Richard W. Ralston No Time of Day

16

David W. Minar

Democracy in the Suburbs

22

Ray Ripton Poems

28

Shirley (Stuckert) Zoeger Incident on the Czech

Border

29

Carolyn Burrows Nobler in the Mind Mark THE TRI-QUARTERLY is a magazine de­ and articles of voted to fiction, poetry, general interest, published in the fall, winter, and spring quarters at Northwestern Univer­

$2.25,

foreign.

Single

copies

Reinsberg

Notes

on

39

Mobility

Emily (Singer) Kaplan Poems

sity, Evanston, Illinois. Subscription rates: $2.00 yearly within the United States; $2.15, Canada;

34

will

42

Charles-Gene McDaniel

be sold locally for $.70. Contributions, cor­ respondence, and subscriptions should be

Portrait Gown

44

addressed to THE

TRI-QUARTERLY, care of the Northwestern University Press, 1840 Sheridan Road, Evanston, Illinois. Contribu­ tions unaccompanied by a self-addressed en­ velope and return postage will not be re­ turned. Except by invitation, contributors

Tri-Quarterly

limited to persons who have some con­ nection with the University. Copyright, 1962,

by Northwestern University. All rights re­ are

NORTHWESTERN Volume 5

served.

UNIVERSITY Number One

FALL

Views expressed in the articles published are those of the authors and are not necessarily those of the editors.

EDITORIAL BOARD, The editor is EDWARD B. HUNGERFORD. Senior members of the advisory board are Professors RAY A. BILLINGTON and MELVIIJLE HERSKOVITS of the College of Liberal

Arts, Dean J A.MES

H.

WILLIAM B. WARTMAN

M.

BARKER

of the School of

Speech, Dr.

of the Board of Trustees.

UNDERGRADUATE G.

MC BURNEY

of the School of Medicine, and Mr. JAMES

ROBERTSON,

HERBERT

EDITORS, M.

SUSAN

ATHERTON, and

F.

MC ILVAINE,

CAROLYN

FORREST

BURROWS.

THE TRI-QUARTERLY is distributed by Northwestern Uni­ versity Press, and is under the business management of the Press.

BY ALVINA

FOREVER

KRAUSE

BEGINNING For

a

school

teacher,

variably disturbing.

interviews

Theatrical

with

stars

the

have

press

are

in­

learned

all

the

to a reporter's questions; at tongue's tip they have right words: the colorful words, the sparkling words, the intimate words, the words revealing such tantalizing glimpses of personal lives, the words selling acting as the most care­ free, fascinating of all careers. The teacher, however, is not conditioned to this process of enlightening the public. Truth has been her rule concise, frank, unadorned truth. And so it is that when a reporter asks, "What, in your estimation, is the secret of this actor's success?" she can only tell the truth. "Hard work. An actor is a human being who has the capacity through hard work to master the techniques of his profession." Silence. The interview is abruptly terminated.

Her life in theatre is no longer news. This drab statement answers

the

-

will never make a headline. If she could divulge secret stories of

Fall, 1962

psychological traumas

as

the

source

of

an

actor's success,

3

It ;s characteristic of Alvina Krause that,

although two years ago she

joined the list of professors emeriti, she is teaching and directing, full time as usual.

Born in New Lisbon, Wisconsin, she began her collegiate education at

Northwestern's School of Speech,

later she joined the

faculty

as

graduating in

1928. Two years

Instructor in Voice and

Interpretation,

and, as Associate Professor and presently Lecturer in Dramatic Pro­ duction, has been a member of the Theatre Department ever since.

She received

an

M.S. at Northwestern in

1933. Since 1945, at The

appeared as Isabelle in a production of

Playhouse, Eagles Mere, Pennsylvania, she has been director, mana­ ger, and producer of her own summer company, composed chiefly of undergraduate and graduate students theatre majors from North­ western. Many of her distinguished students have begun their careers there. This year was the eighteenth season for the company.

The article below was written for The Tri-Quarterly at the invitation

Lean Anouilh's Ring Around the Moon.

of the editor.

-

On the stage of the University Theatre, Inga Swenson

Annie May Sun]: Hall,

....".

"

,.

•

•

1. • • I ,

.

t..

,;

•• •

•

•

" • •

•

..

.. ..

or

talk in rapturous terms of the mystical process

have

been

-

this might be news. True: miracles known

happen. In the course of many a student-actor's training they happen; in every successful production, they must happen at least once. But always it is hard work which has to

cleared the way. The time is right for inspiration's

techniques have been mastered forgotten. That the actor as an exotic phe­ nomenon without virtue, or a complex of neuroses, Freudian or otherwise, may be a myth created by press agents whose advertising plays upon the release when the

and

4

•

,.

,.

.

.

•

•

.

.

of creation

-

.

.­ 't,

imagination of adolescent minds, is inconceivable in

an

age when

living realities like work are no

longer admirable, believable, and certainly not glamorous. That an actor is a human being like other human beings with this special exception that he has a particular talent for mastering the arts of a particular profession as another indi­ vidual has the talent for mastering the arts of -

that he pursues the medicine, law or finance of these arts with the same thoroughness, study the same concentration, the same dedication, as does any human being preparing to earn a living -

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

with his

talents, whatever they may be: this is a

concept of actors which is too contrary to the

popular image to be tolerated or even understood.

There

are

in theatre schools show-off's and dilet­

engaged in self dramatizations, who are inevitably by their antics the focus of public at­ tention; but do we not meet similar specimens, for instance, in the schools of medicine, law, journalism? Strange: it seems now that I have forgotten these sad seekers of theatrical identi­ ties, and their names are too seldom in lights to remind me of their brief, flamboyant moments in the University Theatre Green Room.

I do, however, remember Inga Swenson. As a student she was too interested in too many things to have time to linger in the lounge dissecting the performances of the latest University Theatre leads. She played no spectacular roles in this same University Theatre. Yet when she was on stage in a supporting role, other, more colorful actresses, faded out; attention always went to a tall, quietly beautiful girl seemingly doing nothing tantes

to achieve focus. How .she acted

tricks of

was

a

mystery:

incom­ characterization, parable vocal eccentricities: there was nothing in her work to label "theatrical," no moments of bravura acting; yet she invariably wove her spell.

From the innocence and purity of Isabelle in Anouilh's Ring Round the Moon to a pointedly

she used

no

no

satiric Charles Adams comic moment in Waa Mu,

Inga. She found in a character an idea; was most significant, most essential to that idea; she discovered the drama­ tic force of this idea and she brought to it a radi­ ance and, sometimes, a devastating light. The frame of reference for her acting was that of a a perceptive human being, intelligent, well read in not a life, passive observer. As a participant director you had only to say to her, "This young girl is French," and a spring was tapped. From a store of knowledge gained from books, music, living, her imagination took off to endow a role with qualities unmistakably Gallic. Or say to her: "This is the period of the Italian Renaissance"; and without long involved searching within or without herself, she was the embodiment of the she

was

she discovered what

-

culture of that brilliant age. Within her was a rich store of

images, ideas, sounds, responses to life waiting to be touched off by a playwright's word, a director's suggestion.

Furthermore, most rare in actors, she possessed innately a sense of form.

There was music in her acting: a rhythm, a tone, a melody, that gave continuity to a role: a di­ rect line to the ultimate goal. Her sense of style pervaded all her work. A director, or the mood of a situation, had only to touch it off. I remember one night: at curtain time in our summer theatre the lights went off, a power failure on the moun­ tain. We held the curtain twenty minutes, the audience getting restless. Announcements were not going to hold it. This was a crisis. The silence

Fall, 1962

disapproval fell upon the audience, the at­ mosphere was pregnant with it, when suddenly

of

back

the

from

of

the

auditorium:

music.

Ing a

softly walked down the aisle singing an old English song; just a girl singing absently, no more. She hesitated for

a

moment

near

the stage and then

sat down on the apron, still

singing, remembering She seemed not to see the audience,

old tunes.

not to know that listeners

were

there, yet some­

how you knew that she knew that you were there.

She sang to you individually, all three hundred of you

artist in command of herself, the situ­

an

-

ation, the audience. Fifteen minutes passed, thirty who knew

-

art of

ing,

cared? When I try to teach the good showmanship I think of a girl sing­ or

unaccompanied,

"Cockles,

mussels,

alive,

alive-o." I wish I knew how to teach that art!

One

September Dean Dennis asked me to hear new students applying for theatre scholarships. Among them was one ex­ ceptionally grave young man who read from Max­ well Anderson a natural selection for one aspir­ ing to theatre honors. Anderson was the new hope of the American theatre with his stirring espousal of the theatre as a temple, a cathedral. My present and it may be false, for imagination impression tricks with memory is that this strange plays serious contestant read from Valley Forge. Cer­ tainly the image that sticks in my mind is that of Washington: a most somber, tragic figure at the with him auditions of

-

-

-

Delaware.

I

know

there

were

no

costumes

at

these tryouts, yet I have a mental vision, not only of

aquiline profile, but

of cocked

hat, great fine, resonant voice­ oh, so resonant! speaking every word yes, word with deep, vibrating significance. every an

coat and all. I still hear

a

-

-

-

Fisk Hall became indeed

a

cathedral!

When the

last contestant had finished the Dean raised

an

eyebrow.

"Well?

Anybody you'd care to gamble on?"

"One potential. The tall, lank chap with the tight jaw and the heroic mask."

"What kind of potential?"

"Histrionic. Not fake. Takes himself too serious­

ly, but theatre is where he belongs. Who is he?"

"Chap from Wilmette. Heston. Charlton Hes­ ton."

For two years, until he was called into service, was the epitome of the serious acting-student.

he

He

was

truth."

dedicated to his To

discover

search for the

"inner

the

playwright's implicit endless. (It still is. The

truth, his research was depth and breadth of his private research on The Ten Commandments merits a University degree.)

So deep was his concentration during a perform­ that he spoke to no one backstage. The ance realistic world of technicians, stage hands, gossip­ ing actresses did not exist for him. He was the world of the character he played. Played? No, he was. He doggedly aimed at mastery of the inner experience which motivated behaviour. He sought 5

develop the biography of each character he

to

studied. He was determined to create on stage the effect of life as it would go on if there were a fourth wall between actors and audience. He stopped at nothing in achieving that goal. At one time he was playing in a Workshop production of Riders to the Sea, thoroughly immersed in the life of these Irish fisher folk. He came on stage carrying a rope. I remember thinking: "That's no stage prop, no 'illusion' of a rope. That's the real thing." It

day a note came from the head of the department: "Tell your actors they can't cut down was! Next

the backstage lines. I don't give

a

damn how dedi­

cated they are to truth!"

Charlton's

last performance in University Judge Brack, man of the world, in Hedda Gabler. His performance may have lacked some of the polish requisite to a complete realiza­ tion of that cock-of-the-walk character, but it was surprisingly good. Charlton had a natural, innate gift he may have been unaware of at that time, or if he was aware of it, he fought it as a threat to truth. The gift was a histrionic sense which gave theatricality to his work, lifting his creation of Judge Brack above mere realism. It was the actor's sense that acting is communication: the awareness that out front are people wanting to Theatre

was

be entertained. I could not discuss this with him from me might have acting is truth, not the illusion of truth. He was called into military serv­ ice before we could progress to acting is art, not life. He has done very well since, on his own. that time:

at

destroyed

In was

an

such words

ideal that

one of Patricia Neal's press releases she asked: "Just what did you do in your acting

classes at Northwestern?"

"I had to be a pistol- an army pistol."

It makes

laugh

a

good

press

release.

they

do not understand. The

at that which

People like

to

story is true, but it is not all the truth. Patricia was told to go on stage to be an army pistol. All sophomore actresses aspire to play Hedda Gabler, and Patricia

exception. Her attempts on particular day displayed an awkward girl struggling to act "mortally bored." The torment of defeat was in Patricia's eyes as she slumped into her seat, crawling into herself for protection from classmates in whose eyes she always feared she might read: "Pat Neal? An actress? Did you was

no

this

see

her Hedda Gabler?" Fear of failure distorts

the vision of many a young actor. Patricia be­ lieved with every muscle and fibre of her being that she could be

an

actress.

which she received little

It

was

a

belief in

support on campus. She

honest, so honest that she called the score straight on all her failures. She had no capacity

was

Charlton Heston appeared in the role of the

cock-of-the-walk character, Judge Brack, in Henrik Ibsen's Hedda Gabler.

6

to rationalize her

defeats, to bolster her ego. The

image of the actress she wanted to be was bril­ liantly clear to her; the step-by-step slow progress to that goal was agonizing. Passionately she want­ ed to be the ultimate in greatness at once, in one gigantic leap. To play Hedda was not a wishful ac­ tress dream for

Patricia, as it is for most would­

be actresses. She did not mentally transform Hed­

da into Pat Neal;

rather, she sensed in herself a capacity Hedda, to assimilate Hedda's to live as Hedda: to turn Patricia traits, think, feel, to become

Neal into Hedda Gabler. This is the

mark of

an

sense

individual who

of character can

be

more

than a personality actress; it is the mark of crea­ tive talent. Following Patricia's stage appearance on

this

particular day, there was

cussion of character traits.

the usual dis­

First the

trite, gen­ "fascinating," "danger­ ous"; they were rejected. The actor must have the poet's gift of conceiving in images, of thinking in metaphors. "Fascinating," "dangerous" are la­ bels which sum up appearances. Acting that il­ luminates the script springs from an imagination which, like the author's, creates from images that are clear, unmistakable like "pistol," Ibsen's metaphor for Hedda. To stir the actor's imagina­ tion into creativity, he is asked to dramatize metaphors. When Patricia walked on stage to be eral cliches

came

like

In the role

of Olivia, Patricia

Neat (center, seated) appeared in one of the U nioersity

Theatre's Shakespearian Twelfth

offerings,

Hedda

whelmed her.

was

She

release.

people on campus believed in Pa­ ability. When she was cast to play Olivia in Twelfth Night it seemed her great opportunity Only

a

few

tricia's

to prove to all her detractors what she believed so

firmly: that she was an actress. To me it seemed the role was made for Patricia: she

was

vital in

Elizabethan sort of way; in a moment could change from melancholy to laughter; an

she she

innately patrician. ing night has the proportions of a nightmare too grotesque for reality. If Patricia ever plays Pi­ randello she can use the memory of this night as

detached

observer;

I had

for what I

only the'

can

1. I

was

seen

no

rehearsals to

her frame of reference. So

Olivia

gawky, ugly shapeless a square, ungainly frame with no waistline. All her scenes were played in profile; her chin jutted out in a sharp angular line empha­ sized by a collar that intensified the angle. As a nightmare distorts all realities, so this perform­ prepare

me

awkward girl lines exhibited

in

saw:

was

a

costume whose

a

ance heightened every fault that Patricia pos­ sessed. There is something about the theatre, some

strange code operative

among theatre

folk, that

makes the backstage dramas as inevitable in their course

by

as

actors

are on

Fall, 1962

the

tragedies and comedies played

the stage. The curtain

comes

down

the stage a

could say anything in word or act.

"I shall never act again. Never."

In my memory her open­

was

on

As

play, the offstage action continues. figure in a Pirandello play manipulated by an. unseen director, I was compelled to go back­ stage after the performance. No alternative choice was open to me; offstage entrances and exits are also made on cue. In other instances it might have been possible to breeze through the dressing rooms improvising gaily "Loved the show," with many repetitions, but not with Pat. She was alone in her dressing room. As usual she mustered no defenses.

For her no hysterical release of emotion was pos­ sible. She looked straight at me, spoke before I

a pistol, the concept over­ froze; nothing happened; the pistol metaphor misfired. It makes a good press a

who

Night.

.

"Never again? You dare call what you did to­ night acting? See me tomorrow at nine."

An actor acts with all that he is: mind, memo­ ries, imagination" perceptions, voice and body.

Acting is total. A body that does not communicate is a defective instrument. As a violinist is proud of his Stradivarius, an actor must be proud of his body. Not vain: proud. Next day I learned what I should have sensed all along.

'''I'm too tail, Of are

too broad.

.

course

I

slump. My shoulders

I'm too BIG

.

.

.

All my life

I've hated being tall."

You have to convince the mind before you

can

change the body, yet as you change the body, the mind changes too. Where do you begin? It was Saint Joan, not I, who accomplished the miracle.

As she studied Joan, Patricia acquired the phys7

ical coordination that is Joan's, the joy in move­ ment that was the Maid's. When the following autumn

she

opened

Broadway

on

as

the

hand, may run his gamut, ironically and illogically untouched by the actualities which mo­ tivate his tears, his manifestations of physical anguish. The result may be "exciting" but un­ illuminating. The actress with a tragic sense of life, and of drama, has the capacity to realize in every fibre of her being the consequence of her tragic decisions. With sensibilities fully vibrant as Antigone, loving life, she chooses death be­ cause obedience to eternal laws is more impor­ tant than life. With her complete being, this ac­ the tress realizes totally head, heart, body loneliness of the road to her living death. Not only on the personal level does she realize: hers is a world view the dramatist's view of the tragic waste of human potentialities. The actress with a tragic sense has the vision and power to speak for all people, of all times, who have known the suffering we call "tragic." Patricia had this pow­ other

vital,

beautiful Regina of Another Part of the Forest she was hailed by critics as the season's most

promising

actress.

And beauty

played

no

small

part in the decision.

Patricia had a quality that is rare in actors: a quality that cannot be taught: a sense of tragedy.

Like the sense of comedy, it must be innate. It can be discovered, trained, developed, intensified, but it cannot be given to any student of acting.

A teacher can

can

learn about

not to

sense

it.

lecture

on

the

subject; the head

but to know about it is

tragedy; Acting which has depth springs

-

-

something which is part of the fibre of be­ ing, from a grasp, an awareness, a capacity to experience indignation indignation above the level of personal emotions. It is this grasp which gives to acting the imperative plus so difficult to define. Intellectually an actress may grasp the concept of tragic action. If her knowledge goes no deeper, she will act, as we say, "from the neck up." The result may be art, but art that is intelli­ gent but unmoving. The emotional actor, on the from

-

er;

I

create

duction one.

Rebecca

a

strength,

Ibsen's

of

sure

she

wanted to be

that

West

She

could

would

today

have

the

Ros,mersholm

a

memorable

was

a

different piece of goods.

Neal, she was

an

was

actress,

never, or

or

even

seldom

that she

Everyone else was certain the (Emotional are outpourings commonly supposed to be the mark of theatrical talent.) Each of her perform­ ances might be riddled to shreds by shafts of barbed criticism from the jury of her peers, who nevertheless stood in awe of, her fireworks; but stage

,

it.

These thoughts make me a little sad.

ever,

n

has

passion that would make a pro­

power,

Paula Prentiss

Paula Ragusa (whose stage name is Paula Prentiss)

still

she

believe

Unlike Patricia

played Cleopatra in George Bernard Shaw's Caesar and Cleopatra in University Theatre production.

-

-

was

friends

one.

to be her turbulent home.

and

alike

adversaries

the

agreed

that

the

for her.

Paula always only place catapulted into the very vortex of storms. Studying music, art, and science in quiet obscurity in a girls' school, she suddenly had an impulse to spend a summer at Northwestern, maybe even to find out what this thing called theatre was all about. That summer idyll came to its climax precipitately three years later when upon my luke-warm but threatening persuasion, she appeared in my office in sullen mood, clad in an incredibly bulky, all-enveloping ugly grey sweater, sneakers and bobby sox, to tryout for M G M. She played her tryout scene to the back wall with M G M gyrating in his chair trying to her face. The scene completed, without a see glance in our direction she started for the door.

Disgruntled and irked by her appearance and be­ haviour, I was tempted to let her walk through

stage

was

seemed to be

the door into deserved oblivion when remnants of my better nature

prevailed. I stopped her with a

controversial question; "You're from Texas, are­ n't you, Paula?" She whirled on me: "No. Okla­ homa!" At last M G M heard was

the

thus

saw

the animated face,

Paula Ragusa who thrilling for life into the role of precipitated voice

of

Paula Prentiss.

8

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

Last

night's performance would be permanently recorded; you could never, never tamper with it

The road to that moment had been tumultuous

all

the

for

way

involved

everyone

in

Paula's

life. I remember Caesar and Cleopatra. One night,

last, the opening scene clicked. Weeks of im­ provise-run-the-scene-, discuss-run-the-scene, im­ provise-again procedures at last paid off: the scene crystallized; it was ready for performance.

"That's it! Excellent. Keep it just like that,

At least once in rehearsal or performance Paula

at

Paula. Understand?"

A grunt and an affirmative nod.

played together brilliantly. It was witty; even had style. Keep it just like that.

Understand, Paula?"

Another indeterminate sound and nod, not so positive.

"No changes after tonight." I was pleading now. "Understand, Paula?"

She found a stick of gum, meditatively unwrapped it, gave it full concentration.

"Want to run it again? To set it permanently?"

A negative response.

You reiterate with Paula because, for all her deep concentration you can never really be sure that her concentration is with you,

or

whether she

for that little world of her

already departed her private, creative world. My palpitating on this occasion was short lived; the next hope rehearsal sent it spinning into limbo; despair took its place. If I was baffled by the tenor of the own:

scene, Caesar was dumbfounded. He was too hu­ mane

to strangle

demonic actress; he could only

a

with

blank, uncomprehending eyes, and senseless, unmotivated words. This was a Cleopatra created neither by Shaw, nor by any one else in all history. stare

mutter

"Paula, what in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Hm? one

in

me

with

nocent

the

What's

lifetime of

a

so

simple

matter, Miss Krause?" No

teaching could so confound question, asked in so in­

a

tone.

a

were

going

to

keep

this scene as it was last night, remember?" .

.

.

Cleopatra

well.

.

.

I

.

I

got to thinking

about

how

fell in

...

men

just got to wondering

.

.

.

" ...

always rises softly into the

Paula's voice known

.

you know

...

love with her you know

and

dies

away

on

an

unresolved

un­

chord.

You feel you must follow her into infinity, into the mysteries of the creative state; but produc­ tion dates

are

set and

immovable, awaiting the

inspiration of no artist. Once more you start back with the careful underscor­

at the very

beginning, ing of quiet desperation.

"You see, Paula, you have to play the author's idea Not Paula's idea of Cleopatra. This little, housewifely creature you are creating tonight does not fit in Shaw's framework. She is lovely, fasci­ nating, adorable; but that isn't Shaw's idea of this malicious little queen. You must act the play­ I wish we were doing a movie! wright's idea ...

...

Fall, 1962

a

How often

scene.

repeat. Praise works with many actors; Paula deaf to it. Not through wilfullness nor tem­ perament, nor temper, did she deviate. She simply could not turn off the creative

spring. In Paula's shows we never had to worry each night about creating the illusion of the first time. With her, every night, whether it was rehearsal or perform­ ance, was the first time

sometimes chaos. Care­

-

fully, on performance nights, I used to plan what I might, casually, say to her or should I write a little note? that would keep the stream flow­ ing in the direction of the drama's objective. I would watch her brown eyes light up with agree­ ment as I spoke. Then having made my point by subtle implication, I thought, I would retire to -

-

watch from

distance until she

a

started

the

to

stage, praying that on the way no one else would let fall a chance remark that might turn loose

again that fantastic, creative imagination.

Paula evolved a theory for her acting: every character, everyone, young, old, sad or comic, fat or lean "has a little secret." (Be­ everyone and aware of ing tall- five feet nine inches her height, Paula describes everything in wishful diminutives.) The "little secret" may be labelled by psychologists as the subconscious, and by -

-

-

erudite actors

but in Paula's world as subtext; prosaic terms are not stimulants of the dramatic imagination. In solo performances in class she was always at the peak of her form.

There was the time when for twenty minutes or

these

more

You

"What's the matter!

"Oh

perfect interpretation of each individual we thought: "If only an audi­ ence were here tonight!" Paula, however, could never do the same thing twice; she could never ga vo

was

"You and Caesar

has

"

agHin.

we

watched

room,

while

woman

with

a

with

delight

in

rare

a

class

commonplace "little" "little" secret humming its tune

on

stage

a

her, removed items of food from an im­ aginary refrigerator. Not a word was spoken, al­ though inarticulate, indescribable sounds commu­ nicated a world of meaning. There before us on inside

a

bare stage

was

the bread and butter world of

gadgets and things; there, too, was an inner world in which quite a different woman was sweetly singing, I imagined, something like "I think I'll a red put a spider in Mrs. Applebaum's tea.. spider, or a green spider or a striped spider .

I'll

watch

Mrs.

Applebaum

swallow

the

.

.

black

spider and I will say, 'Do you like sugar in your Of course, dear?

China tea, Mrs. Applebaum I don't know what the little secret was exactly; but it was believable and entertaining, and I could not call time on the assignment. "

...

With most actors, I wish devoutly for power to

ignite inadequate, dormant, or lazy imaginations. only pray for the patience I

With Paula I could

9

A

large-scale production 0/ Coriolanus by Shakespeare included James Olson (center) in the title role.

together we might find the way channel, direct, and discipline the superabund­ ance of her creative energy before it exploded, sending us both to see it through in whatever is the next world for the passionate of heartJ ames Olson could not pass his required public speaking courses. The ability to speak extempore is a gift possessed by few actors. When called upon to deliver a speech, Jim's mind froze, his tongue stuttered, his vocabulary was reduced to: haven't got that to

"Well

...

but.

moment of

scene:

theatrical theme:

ah

" ...

Yet once he had his

eloquence. A performance of Dark of

the Moon in our

revival

.

summer

theatre had reached the

the climax of the drama

terms,

crystallized

the

which, in

playwright's

religion can be distorted to appeal to the

baser passions of men. We were playing it with

the

stern

a

action.

discipline governing Suddenly, dramatically that it seemed on cue, there came from the audience a ringing, ministerial voice drowning out the evangelist on stage: "Ladies and gentlemen, this is blasphemy!"

The stage froze for an unquestionably true dra­ matic pause of several beats. Then Nancy picked and

so

up

her

more

cue

and

the

action

was

resumed.

the stentorian, solo voice cried out: "

"Blasphemy!

A sobbing woman joined in: "Sacrilege.

Once

The

making

"Sacrilege! Sacrilege!"

10

on

stage,

and

in the

house,

was

my

way

toward

the

disturbance, when

from the stage I heard words unrehearsed, not from a play. An authoritative but strangely quiet voice said: "Ladies and

gentlmen, this is

a

theatre."

I

stopped frozen, not daring to think what might come next. Down stage right a tall figure was the focus of attention. Jim Olson, stepping out from the wings where he had been waiting for his witch-boy cue, was talking to us. He spoke about the theatre: a free theatre, where playwrights could speak their thoughts, through actors, to people free to listen. I wish I had a recording of that speech; I can recall only the effect it had, the thoughts it stirred in me. Did he speak for one minute? Two? No more, certainly. With a con­ viction so deep it had no need for histrionics he spoke straight to us. The agitators too were, ap­ parently, spellbound. Reason prevailed; actors re­ sumed their roles; the play went on. Jim had touched in us a sense of fundamental rights; be­ liefs we scarcely knew we possessed we heard articulated for the first time. I think I fore realized

never

be­

fully the lucidity of the English language. By college standards, Jim was a sopho­ more; in this crisis he spoke wisdom which added

"

Then both together chanted:

silence

vibrant. In the darkness of the auditorium I was

up

to

a

credo of

miracles do

pared

so

the

theatre.

I

have

said that

happen when the way has been pre­

for them. The Dark

of the Moon incident

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

supports

my

belief. An

actor

can

speak

extem­

pore when he has discovered for himself that drama is more than individual roles in a play; he can

be eloquent when the theatre is for him

more

than actors strutting on a stage.

James Olson was

an

all-theatre

man:

actor, de­

By his very nature he master each of the theatre arts to compelled

signer, technician, director. was

totally in the one which acting. There was no inde­ cision in his approach: the theatre was. to be his profession, his way of life; excellence was his measuring rod. In summer theatre he designed a set, constructed that set, played the leading role A Herculean accomplishment by any in that set standard. Jim was an actor who, as a designer, in order to function meant

more

most to him:

-

designed for actors. As he designed, he saw char­ acters emerging from backgrounds, saw people in movement. No wonder his sets

rectors!

As

were

a

joy to di­

designer, technician he de­ manded perfection. Jim could not compromise. An actor who professed a love for the theatre and then gave to that theatre less than his best, was guilty of hypocrisy which Jim could not accept nor tolerate. He struck an actor once during a actor,

final dress rehearsal. It when morale will to do:

an

was

one

of those times

low, fatigue had mastered the apathetic rehearsal. Suddenly Jim's was

powerful arm shot out: he struck a fellow actor.

Physical violence is unjustifiable under any cir­ cumstances. What others who condemned him, and rightfully, could not know was that Jim was as horrified by his act as they. Temper was too simple an explanation. Jim was torn by the knowl­ edge that the motivation lay much deeper. He could not understand it, much less formulate it.

Slowly we groped our way to the cause. To Jim, an artist, a play was a work of art, perfect in form, a marvel of unity, balance, rhythm, propor­ tion. Any violation of that form was to him a kind of murder; it produced chaos within him, stirring his indignation to the breaking point. His act of violence itself was unjustifiable; the motivation for that act is something every true artist under­ stands and has experienced when he has witnessed the mutilation of artistic form.

such

desecration

itself in

violence;

does our

not

The

response to

necessarily manifest

culture demands that

even

indif­

the artist conform to passive acceptance ference. How I long to hear from an audience or

someday, one frank, resounding "Boo!" when ac­ on a stage forget the unwritten laws of their profession, when they violate the principles by which we recognize theatre as an art. Such a demonstration might foretell a renaissance in the tors

American theatre.

Sometimes I think that day is near. "A triumph for the American theatre here:

this

was

the finest

...

I must not temporize

production of

a

Shake­

spearean comedy I have ever seen." The reviewer

writing about the 1960 production of Taming Shrew for the New York Shakespearean of Festival in Central Park. He continued," The di­ rector, Gerald Freedman, is new to me: yet, I have no hesitation in saying, from this job alone, that he is one of the most gifted theatre men in was

the

America."

A director is seldom news. He is the

man

in the

usually. When the curtain goes up on opening night he retires into the blackness of the auditorium, silent, invisible, obscure. A few crit­ ics may recognize in a production the creative shadows

Playing Androcles, student actor Gerald Freedman took part in

this tense scene from Shaw's Androcles and the Lion.

FaZZ, 1962

11

mind of the director. The audience, however, sees, hears, applauds the actors and sometimes, astute­ ly, the play. Only the theatre-wise patron looks

spring. I can not endow actors with it; I can only

first of all for the director's

dowed with it. And he had

name on

a

program. as his ac­

was wise to choose directing for Jerry is a man of many tal­ theatre, tivity ents; only directing can use them all. On campus we knew Jerry as an actor. Shakespeare, Shaw, Sophocles, Sartre: he was a master in the inter­ pretation of all. I have seen the greats of the com­ mercial theatre attempt Androcles; but Jerry is the only actor I have ever known who could hold a totally logical, intelligent, Shavian conversation with a lion. Others can't resist the temptation to "play for comedy," to burlesque, distort, or play the scene swiftly as too ridiculous to make sense.

Yet Jerry in

Jerry had the mind to grasp the Shavian intent; he had the

capacity

to understand both man and

beast. Not only that, he understood all eras. When

played Shakespeare, he was the Elizabethan Renaissance personified. With sufficient pressure, and much kinetic participation on my part, I can induce actors, perhaps in self-defence, into a state of Elizabethan total activity. Knocked about enough, they can be forced out of their contem­ porary torpor, their physical passivity, so that a he

stage can come alive with some semblance of the

physical joy of living, the mark of the Elizabe­ thans. But the Renaissance mind, that stimulat­ ing, many-faceted, creative mind that motivated the activity of the age how do you endow actors with that? Jerry possessed it: a word, suggestion, a scrap of pantomime, and he could toss off an Elizabethan sonnet, sing a madrigal, fight a duel, bait a bear. So it was with all eras. I might say to actors, "In this play you must be continental; you must discover how the European mind works, how it activates behaviour." They stare at me helpless­ ly. I talk to them at great length, I send them to books, to art, to living people: French, German, Italian. Eventually, with great effort we arrive at some degree of understanding. Not so with a word, a description, a stage direction, Jerry and he walks on, for instance, as an Austrian­ -

...

not

American

make

them

aware

of this creative

source

of the

need. a

Jerry

was

en­

greater gift: the gift

communicating, of sharing his experience. Un­ accompanied, sitting in a chilly living room after

of

a

is

later rehearsal, Jerry sang Hebrew chants. He another of his talents: he writes a musician -

music, has it

tenor voice of unusual

a

not the

was

beauty or,

beauty. But at least, not the beauty

alone, that moved us. As we listened we were one with him; we knew, we understood, deep within us, the

which

origin

of those laments. The tribulations

their source were our tribulations. As

were

artist-actor Jerry could, always, for least, change the tenor of our lives. an

a

time at

Jerry is a designer too. When he entered the university he had to choose between an art schol­ arship and his theatre interest. Theatre won, but during his stay here we had many private show­ ings of his paintings. In the theatre this talent was released in scene designs.

His set for Mid­ summer Night's Dream was visual music. It is obvious, then, why Jerry was wise to choose di­ recting as his career, for only in this capacity could he use all of his arts. As a director, he plays not one role in a drama, but all roles. As an artist, he fills his stage with pictures which inter­ pret the play with visual connotations in fluid pat­ terns of color, movement, design. As a musician, he balances voices in harmonies and dissonances; as a symphony conductor produces musical form out of many instruments, so a stage director cre­ ates

dramatic structure which is not unlike

a

symphony

a

when that director is a Gerald Freed­

-

man.

I

often asked by actors,

am

men,

"What

makes

an

columnists, and lay­

actor

makes him great?" may mutter:

think I

am:

an

artist?

What

upon my mood I

Depending "Bloody hard work," or "Who do you

God?" The truth is: I do not know the

answer.

Sometimes in the class

hearsal

it

room

or

in

a

re­

happens: that electric moment when

student-actor

is

transformed

into

actor-artist.

of

Why? How? For an instant I think I know: all our

this is no Austrian, his voice and behaviour imitation: Jerry is what he imagined. He had the ability to conceive what eternities had produced, the historical insight to give substance to his thought, the flexibility of mind and body to trans­ form himself into the role imagined. Other actors, with difficulty, draw upon their memories of per­ sonal experience as frames of reference for their

work has added up to this inevitable achievement.

characterizations. "With difficulty," I say advised­

teaching?

an

an

imitating the outer vestures

do not know the

I

ory ?

-

ly, for how limited they are in their store of signi­ ficant experience; and in their passive state, how unreceptive to the stimuli of life about them! Ac­ tors today must be taught to hear, to see, to ex­ perience before they possess a memory vivid enough to draw upon. No so with Jerry. His mem­ ories went deeper than the personal. Racial mem12

But that moment of

rationality is instantly fol­ by a deepened sense of the mystery of the metamorphosis. I leave the question now to the researchers: let them find the answer if they can.

I think, perhaps, I do not want to solve the riddle, for if I did might I not lose what is the most dy­ lowed

namic reward of all: the eternal astonishment of

I am indebted to Professor Lee Mitchell for finding early photographs, from plays produced at The Univer­ sity Theatre, of the actors mentioned by Miss Krause.

E.B.H.

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

Developing

an

adequate vocabulary is the first

step in gaining acceptance. Every day, practice using several significant terms, and you will have flO

difficulty comrnunicating exactly

mean.

what

you

If you want to praise someone or something,

say it is

"tough," "cool,"

or

"sharp."

You

can

always make these words more emphatic by pre­

fixing them with "really." The phrase, "got the hots," also indicates something desirable. A boy may say he's "got the hots" for a girl, but a girl may apply the expression to almost anything, even to professors. If you wish to malign someone, you can say he is

By William Thomas Page

T he

new

student at Northwestern will often find

himself in a

quandary, not knowing what to do in

or he may think he knows the proper choice to make when he actually does not, and thus his decision may be incorrect. In either

situations;

many

case

the results will be unfortunate. I

I

establish

can

some

hope that

rules that will help new stu­

dents to avoid incorrect decisions. Adherence to set of maxims should

my

simple

cess

to anyone.

As

guarantee

suc­

student, you must always remember that your most important goal (at least at this time) is to win acceptance. Everything must be sacrificed for this one goal if you are to have a happy, successful college career. a

new

a

"kook" or a "loser." If a per­

is

extremely undesirable, "neatsie" is a powerful term which has as many connotations as anyone cares to give it. But the strongest appellation (and consequently one which must be saved for special occasions) is "nurd," a term which can be applied to anyone who is thoroughly disgusting. "Spastic" can also be used to describe someone you don't like. When anything bad hap­ pens, you can say you "took gas." This is par­ ticularly good when you think you failed an exam.

"Lunch" is also popular. A woman will say, "She is lunch," to describe some one who is "out-of­ it," while a man may say he "caught his lunch," which means he "took gas" on a test or broke son

his ankle in an I.M. basketball game. Don't worry if you don't know the meanings of all these no­ -

sure of what they mean anyway. If you them, you will reveal what you want to re­ veal, which is not that you know the meanings of the words, but that you are "cool" enough to

body is use

use

them.

You must also be if you want to make sure

able to talk about fine arts a

good impression. Making

that you are familiar with Ray Charles, Josh

White, Miles Davis, and the Kingston Trio, will establish you as an authority on music. In the field of literature, a working knowledge of Catcher in the Rye and "Peanuts" is absolutely indispens­ able. However, any indication that you are sin­ cerely interested in theatre, painting, serious mu­ sic, or literature will lead people to assume that you are too cultured, too much a part of the avant-garde to be socially acceptable. Neverthe­ less, you should drop names such as Albee, Web­ ern, Ives, and Chagall into your conversation, but be careful not to reflect any understanding of their

William

Thomas Page is Born in

a

senior

in

the

School of

Farmington, Illinois, he went to school

Speech. there, spending his vacations in northern Minnesota, and sometimes helping in his father's clothing store. Re­ cently he has worked in the strip mines of the southern lJIinois coal fields. He has not yet decided what he will do after graduation.

Fall, 1962

13

works. Cover Time every week and you will have

enough cultural information.

To be accepted, you must also speak deroga­ torily of the University administration. This is one of the easiest requirements to fulfill since you only need to learn a few simple phrases. Both, "The University is too paternalistic," and, 1'1 aren't don't see why we have women's hours -

we

old enough to

useful.

own

our

manage

lives?"

are

Malign the Health Service every time you chance, and ask why they take your tem­

get a perature every time you go in.

McLeod

Refer to

Dean

"The Great White Father." The

as

All-American

ex­

Girl

"Patsy Thrash, pression, Scout," is essential for every coed. Be sure to even if you don't believe in use these phrases, them. (It follows from this that you will be ad­ mired for breaking as many University regula­ tions as you can without getting caught.)

Having a number of psychological terms ready for instant use is also essential. The only import­ ant psychologist is Freud, and fortunately you can talk about his writings without understanding them.

Just

havior

to

terms

such

remember and

sex,

behavior

he

memorize

suppression,

as

libidinal energy, own

that

fixation,

course

if you

really

want

does not

an

to

be

lowed to work so

need

to

really here to learn, since this establishes one

ego,

and

accepted,

intellectual. This

that you aren't allowed to earn it only means that you aren't al­

you

think

on

can

clearly;

you

only need to make

rational," and, "You're not being very objective," and be sure to drop one of them into every lengthy conversation. Try to utter something se­ rious occasionally, but don't dwell on it.

You will lessen your chances of being accepted appear to try hard in class. The person who does this is easy to spot. He usually sits in if you

row and answers more questions than else, although many of his answers are obviously wrong. If you need to "brown-up" a pro­ fessor, go see him in his office, and don't tell any­ body that you went. Or if you mention it, be sure to add that you were only trying to make a good impression.

Although I have said that diligent study is

front

anyone

frowned

14

Another good trick is to tell your teachers that as

others believe that you do. For this purpose, re­ member the phrases, "I don't think that's very

the

paper after you have covered the material and know what you have said.

are

Friday nights or to sacrifice a study at the library. "Study dates," on the other hand, are highly desirable, so long as you don't try to study too hard.

(If you're actually working for a graduate fellowship or to get into a professional school, you may be exempted from this rule in some instances.)

But on the other hand, you must not appear to think irrationally. I am not trying to say that you date

upon,

you

should

remember

Practice using the

phrase, "in a sense." When you use it, you cannot possibly be wrong; you are always right "in a sense." Say you are not certain even when you are sure you are right. The best way to close a paper is to list all the intervening variables which you have neglected to consider and which will completely invalidate everything you have said.

(If you don't know any authentic points you have overlooked, make some up. It shows you're think­ ing.) Finally, write the introductory page to your

that

it

is

who shares their values.

grow tired of

dealing

dents who

out to make

are

with

Professors

pre-professional a

stu­

"fast buck." There­

fore, the best way to gain an instructor's respect is to tell him that you want to teach in college.

Ask for a list of books that will help to broaden your interests.

Remember that engineers

mean

high grades;

instances.

many

you

use

you should not appear to be

in

Freudian

knowledge of the Oedipus Rex story is imperative.

Of

criticism

you

all

them to describe your everyone else's. A sketchy

and

and

few

a rguments that coincide with their own. The pass-word on papers is "intellectual restraint."

Professors love it. Understate absolutely every­ thing. The word, "perhaps," will save you from

with

be­

reduced a

important to keep off the probation lists. A few simple rules for writing papers will nearly always guarantee a "C" or better. Be sure to support the same position the teacher holds. In­ structors have a most difficult time finding fault very

and

intellectual

outcasts,

group are social

as a

commonly known

as

"Tech Wienies." The best way to jeopardize your

grade in Freshman English is to let the professor know you're in Tech. If he asks you about it, tell him you're transferring into Liberal Arts.

Hide your slide rule never hang it on your belt.

Being seen in acceptable places is important.

Plan now to spend at least an hour every day in the Grill. Arrange to frequent Lou's and the Or­ rington's sidewalk cafe. Going to the Hut is an­ other matter. Often the people who go there are -

known

as

the "Hut set" and

are

looked upon

as a

group of pseudo-intellectuals who don't bathe over once a week. But you can go there after midnight, so

long as no other place is open.

Whether you

are

expected

to drink

or

not de­

the group you happen to be in. In some pends cases a person will be rejected if he doesn't drink on

-

regarded

turbed with men

are

"out-of-it."

as

women

Women

dis­

are

not

as

much

who don't drink

annoyed by teetotaling males.

Many

as

men

will not date a woman who doesn't drink, and there are women

even

of

A

who are not happy to date a

man

who

always buy for his date, if he doesn't drink. Although some groups

doesn't.

women

man

must

frown

on

drunkenness

at

any

time,

getting drunk often is always bad. If you come in smashed once in a while, be careful where yOU barf. Under-age men who intend to drink should NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

have fake I.D.'s. Blank draft cards

plentiful

are

and can be obtained for a reasonable price. These also provide a certain satisfaction associated with

violating the law. Subsequently, the best pol ic-y is to go along with whatever crowd you happen to fall into. Never brag that you abstain.

Some people will snub you if you don't smoke, but this attitude is not typical. No man should ever smoke Kents; if he does, women will think he is effeminate, and other men will warn him that he

may

become

sterile.

notion that

The

should smoke non-filter

a

is

cigarettes popular circles, but he must be absolutely sure that he doesn't hold his cigarette as a wom­ an does (or, for that matter, do anything that might lead others to think he has homosexual tendencies, for this will immediately label him as unacceptable). No woman should ever smoke man

in

only

few

a

anything

than

stronger

MarLboros

Winstons

-

for this tends to distort permitted her image of femininity. Spring cigarettes are definitely forbidden. Whether women prefer men who smoke pipes has never really been decided.

Admitting you're from a small town (under 50,000) leads to certain rejection. Among those with city and suburban backgrounds, this just doesn't set well. Telling people about a childhood sometimes

-

in the country makes you vulnerable to attacks people might not have considered ordi­

which

narily. If you have a problem with this, name the largest city within a hundred mile radius of your home and say you live in a suburb of it.

What you do about

sex

is

unimportant,

you have at least one date every

as

what

you

about

say

your

so

long

quarter; but

experiences is vital.

Opinions on this matter vary from group to group.

Find out the

for your

norm

group before you

start to talk. A woman may fall into

which it is desirable to

telling

rave

a

situation in

about her

chastity,

everyone how she has resisted the attacks

of many

men.

In this

case

backlog of stories to

use on

The group may take

a

she should

develop

a

the proper occasions.

different

attitude, and talk freely experiences, especially if the women happen to be pinned or engaged. Still about such

more

a

third group never discusses the matter at all.

The norms for

the

men are

somewhat different, but

pattern still varies from group to group, and

even

ular

from individual to individual. If you are pop­ otherwise, you can claim ten or more se­

ductions

and at least

some

of your friends

believe you and look up to you But if you

are

as

a

will

"cocksman."

not well-liked, you will be resented

for

describing even one conquest. N ever talk wait girl you are dating at the time till you've given her up. Never brag about being chaste, or someone will say you are self-righteous. about the

Just

be

sure

tolerant of his

-

that

feels that you are that and you believe his

everyone

position

stories. Remember that this is losing proposi­ tion, because someone will call you a liar no mata

Fall,

1962

But

what you say.

ter

a

as

general rule, when

somebody asks you if you "got any" last night, say, "yeah, a little," and in most instances every­ one

will be satisfied.

Just how much profanity to use is another prob­

lem you face. Both

and

men

women

swear

more

freely among members of the same sex. A man can often use profanity to establish a more virile

image with women, provided he doesn't say any­ thing coarser than "son of a bitch," and saves this for special occasions. Some girls, however, will tolerate swearing only on rare occasions. A must

woman

of

some

"damn"

restraint.

more

use

her

"hell" before

or

She

femininity when she a

man,

sacrifices

goes

and

beyond

some

men

object to this. No one should act surprised at any­ thing he hears.

The

emphasis on blasphemous jokes tapered off, but you are still ex­ pected to laugh when you hear one. You will be entirely correct if you refer to the Holy Spirit as the "Big Spook," but to refer to God as the "man upstairs" is taboo. Speak against conven­ tional religion occasionally, remembering that some people think it is contrary to human intelli­ gence. Trying to start a prayer and Bible-study group will most certainly lead to total rejection. great

to have

seems

The importance of Greek affiliation is also vari­ able.

The

affiliated

woman

assumes,

in

many

cases, that the

independent woman must be com­ pletely undesirable, although exceptions to this rule do exist.

As freshmen

and

sophomores,

af­

filiated women will have nothing to do with a male

independent ;

juniors and seniors, they

as

admire

the

mained

independent;

man

who

about it. Affiliated

has or

men

de-activated

they

are

may

more

may

or

re­

just forget

apt to view in­

equals, except when the former group is composed of freshmen. As far as most men are concerned, there are so few independent girls on campus that whether to date them is rarely a problem. The important thing, then, is simply to be "sharp" and to associate with "sharp" people. dependent men

as

their

Knowing how to dress is another significant part of your fight for acceptance. Survival with­ trenchcoat is

impossible. No man can get along without an Ivy League suit. Loafers and white socks are essential for everyday wear.

Pleated pants are out of the question. Almost all shirts should have button-down collars, although tab collars can be worn for dress. A large supply of sweaters is helpful, so long as the sweaters reflect a recent style, not one that disappeared out

a

The

commandment

is

two

years

this:

everything must be subdued; nothing gaudy

ago.

supreme

is permitted.

For no

women

the traditional camel's hair coat is

longer as popular as it once was. Consequently style of the coat are not important,

the color and

15

so long as it has a fur collar. White socks are equally important for women, and white tennis shoes are the generally-accepted everyday fash­ ion. Aside from these things, the most important consideration is skirt length. Even if short skirts look terrible on a girl, she will be "uri-cool" if she fails to follow the present trend. The best way to dress is the way everybody else does.

In the

of

area

verified that

a

politics,

rather

elections have

campus

conservative outlook

pre­

vails, but no strong stereotype can be developed.

The safest political position is somewhere between the views of Everett Dirksen and those of Nelson

Rockefeller. Never attach yourself to group

on

either side. The John Birch

Americans

the

for

extreme

an

Society and

Democratic Action

both

are

condemned. Selecting an acceptable political posi­ tion is not

difficult

as

as

I have made it

seem­

just don't have any strong convictions, and you will have no difficulty, since most students have a

currently the Director of Develop­ Roosevelt University, has appeared in this

Richard W. Ralston, of

ment

magazine twice before. He was once an official of In­ land Steel, and his article, "The Dialogue of the Deaf,"

published in The Reporter magazine last year, was one of the first

well

as

an

major critiques on the 1959 steel strike as assessment of the effects of the Common

pricing behavior. Ralston's articles have also appeared in the Chicago Tribune magazine, and other journals. He was graduated from Northwest­ ern University in 1943, in absentia, as an English major Market

on

steel's

while serving as a Marine officer in the Pacific.

very limited knowledge of this field anyway.

When you first

expects that

to

come

you will be

of the student body. As football

to

games

and

But after the football come

apathetic, as

a

Northwestern, everyone appalled by the apathy freshman you should go

ask

NO TIME

why nobody cheers.

is over, try to be­ almost everyone else is. Don't season

get excited about student government,

even

if you

OF DAY

dabble in it. Remember to say, "The Senate nev­ er does anything," and "Student government is

just a rubber stamp for the administration."

As some

you have

probably expected,

you will find

beatniks at Northwestern. You must either

become one of them

or

avoid them entirely. There

ground. The true individualist is somewhat respected; but if he fails to meet the standards, he will be classed as a "pseudo-" or a the worst possible categories. No "phony" "beat" ever enjoys widespread acceptance; he is fully accepted only by those who are like him.

As a result, any indication that you are different will interfere with your popularity. is

no

middle

-

A few

should be

miscellaneous rules

covered.

bag, you will be Take pseudo-intellectual. aspirin tab­ and Dexidrine occasionally so peo­ lets, No-Doz, will realize that ple you, too, are under strain.

N ever take an examination confidently tell ev­ eryone you're clutched. Take fashionable courses.

Physical Geography, Nationalism, and BIO Liter­ ature are valuable to the accepted person. Men should scan Playboy every month and remember the Playmate's measurements. Don't be happy all the time. Cynicism and stoicism are more popular attitudes. This is imperative: If your Don't

carry

classed

as

a

green

book

or

a

-

mother

had

to

go

to

work

so

you

could

come

here, don't let anybody know it.

Summarizing these rules is simple: Remember nothing to gain by having strong convictions. Try hard to be like everyone else. that you have

16

He

wore

a

watch whose face

was

divided into

night and day. No numbers were printed on it and only one hand, instead of two, moved slowly around the circumference of the dial three times every twenty-four hours.

"All I give a damn about is when it's night and when it's day. I won't be a slave to minutes and hours like the rest of you time-bound creeps," said Lord Ellingsworth Jones, an Englishman turned American, who was the world's greatest authority on the liquid position of the reserve banks and who was employed by our company because of his British "style" and commanding two

sections:

manner.

Furtively I concealed my conventional wrist plunging my hand more deeply into the of pocket my trousers.

Time to do many things, I reflected, the illusion you get when you watch the face of the clock, is watch by

not

the

measure

of your progress,

but the way

you handle the intervals between

night and day, not counting the minutes and hours, not even being aware of the movement of the hands of the clock. Tiempo para gastar, as the Spanish say.

Passing the display gymnasium

on

our

window

way

of

back

NORTHWESTERN

the

from

corporate lunch, we

TRI-QUARTERLY

in our balance of payments problem, and the out­ "

flow of gold. Yet

..

he paused, "the young lady

about and well, g('nerally being sculptured like that. Live sculp­

is

quite fetching jiggling

.

.

.

ture, that's what it is."

caught the girl's eye and she smiled at me, bravely attempting to convey a look of dignity and aplomb, which I considered impossible for I

her to achieve under the circumstances.

"I should like very much to ask her about her

experiences," Ellingsworth said

as

took the

we

automatic elevators up to our offices. spend a little more time in the

"Perhaps

I'll

corporate

gymnasium this afternoon, loosening up a bit, trying to reduce the old waistline, what?" he said.

I decided to accompany

Ellingsworth. Our firm

enjoying good business at the moment, what with the financially unsound high discount not

was

and

rate

precipitous drop

a

reserve

our

There

accounts.

in

the

was

fluidity of little for

very

to do

except to man the telephones and keep the secretaries busy. It seemed to be an ap­ propriate time to look into body-conditioning. I had been short-winded lately, running to and from the train. A few nights before I had de­ veloped heart palpitations. Exercise, well-timed, not too severe, performed in moderation might be just the toning up I needed. us

By Richard W. Ralston

explained my intentions and my apprehen­ to Ellingsworth and he agreed that exer­ cise seemed indicated by my predicament. How­ I

sions I..

ever,

stopped for a moment to watch a voluptuous mod­ subject herself to the kneading and rolling of a body-conditioning machine. It was equipped with a set of rollers that firmly embraced her buttocks and hips and moved up and down, vi­ el

her entire

brating

body

from the forelock of her

tinted hair to the points of her breasts indifferent­

ly supported beneath her tight transparent blouse.

She was

executive secretary on detached duty

an

to demonstrate the

organization's voluntary body­ conditioning program.

Lord Ellingsworth didn't even look at his watch, so intent was he on the functioning of the a contraption, when you phenomenal machine studied it, that seemed to work on the model's body with an almost human intelligence. I felt a -

little jealous of it. "that such

machine would put the human body almost insupportable ordeal, that the

a

through

an

process

might, indeed,

be

theless the girl does have

quite painful.

an

Never­

enraptured look that

probably stems as much from of sacrifice

an

atavistic

sense

from the sensation she gets from the machine. In any case, it's all very odd, and as

I don't know whether such

body-conditioning is worth trouble, particularly in view of the urgency

Fall,

1962

I

tell

could

completely

that

his

mind

fixed

was

so

the body-conditioning machine that

on

decided to

at

once

for

swimming pool, freeing

him

to

set

out

the go

corporate

to

the

ma­

chine.

I splashed around in the pool for a while, con­ scientiously avoiding over-fatigue and the bulbous

body of the vice president in charge of sales rolled, heaved, puffed and panted like a sounding whale. As he listed over, a leviathan of modern merchandising, his rosy arms and shoulders awash, I could read the locker number, a high status single digit, stamped on one of his buttocks. I reflected on how delightful it who

would be to in

attain

the

vice president's

stature

(my blood

running

business.

After

fast),

"One would think," observed Lord Ellingsworth,

I

I

I

had

finished

clapped

my hands

of the corporate towel

and

was

summoned

one

attendants, young employed, whose classification tests qualified her for development and training leading eventually to our mail room or to some other more lofty position.

The small-breasted no in wore nymph clothes, keeping with the of company policy compulsory exposure to the healthful ultraviolet rays emanating from the floors and ceiling of the corporate athletic plant.

Self-consciously, ·1 tried to hold myself more virgin,

room

a

recently

17

erect to minimize the obtrusiveness of my swell­

perhaps, but now I think you should take a little

ing abdomen.

rest while I

me,

but

My "obesity" was embarrassing evidently not to the girl, for she

smiled

and

extended

to

to

those

me

delicate

but

important attentions usually reserved for direc­ tors and officers of the company. Although they induced

some

relaxing

and

coronary

palpitations, they

thoroughly delightful

and I

were

attend

make

to

ment

conferences,

restricted

to

of

one

more

my

secretarial

training

a

mature

develop­

usually fully developed

program

and

women.

She

thanked

me

and

danced

away,

twirling

towel with which I had dried myself, as though it were the diaphanous veil of some Attic

the

bacchante.

I then the

sought Ellingsworth and found him in

body-conditioning

room.

ultraviolet lights and the

Here there

mandatory

were

no

rule about

total

bodily exposure was not enforced, although most of the devotees of this kind of conditioning wore brief costumes covering only those parts of their anatomy they were modest about. Curi­ ously, there was little conformity in the par­ ticipants' anatomical sensitivity, some covering their fingers, others their feet, some their eyes, but most their ears. Our psychologists referred to this phenomenon as tactile regressivism.

I found Ellingsworth talking with great ani­ mation to the secretary whom we had just ob­ served demonstrating the body-conditioning ma­ chine. She was reclining on a floor mat, resting from her exertions, dressed in a skin-tight leo­ tard.

Ellingsworth was in shorts, T-shirt, and tennis shoes.

Even

carriage the

in

this

costume

he

had

an

air

of

elegance that radiated more from his and nobility of expression than from

sartorial

clothes he

wore.

"Ah, then, painful, but really pleasur­ I first imagined," he was saying. "And able, as it is not

I must confess

that it has either helped you to delightfully healthy body for yourself or else you came to the conditioning process already so generously endowed. How thankful you should be for such an incomparable gift, and how grateful I am for the pleasure of your companonship and the contemplation of your

fashion

a

form."

"Oh, sir," she managed Ellingsworth rise

caught

my

that I too

to

respond, blushing.

eye

and

asked

the

how

might appreciate had body-development worked for her. She complied readily, indeed quite proudly, I thought, and even offered to remove all her clothing in order to present more convincing evidence of the state of her health and the efficacy of the system.

Ellingsworth demurred at her offer and said, "Another time

girl

to

effectively

18

so

corporate

girl stood by and told him how to brace was performing its

the

his body while the machine good works on him.

"You must hold yourself firmly," she

patted

the young girl on the forehead and told her that I would look favorably on any request she might

tryout the machine."

With that, Ellingsworth mounted the platform and adjusted himself into the contraption while

advised,

"but you must also be in a receptive frame of mind. You can achieve that by watching me. Oh, and you simply must take off your watch.

The motion might disturb its accuracy, and you yes,

know

" ...

Ellingsworth refused this advice. "It is now daytime. I shall not worry unless it says night­ time in the daytime and I can still observe the sun. Well, start it up, my dear, and let's have a bloody go at body-conditioning, eh?"

The girl pressed the button and the machine started, or I should say, it literally sprang into action like some automated panther, seizing El­ lingsworth's hips and thighs and rapidly, but with rhythmic precision and also with a certain relentlessness, beginning to reform his body, ac­ cording to some specifications that were punched on a card which the girl inserted into the ma­ chine. The card contained precise measurements, medically approved and laboratory tested, for the

soon-to-be-reconditioned

Ellingsworth.

The power and intensity of the machine seemed

frighten him

to

first,

at

and

he uttered

a

few

gasps of apprehension, which brought smiles to the girl's lips. But as soon as it began to hum

"cruising speed," and he grew used to and touch, he settled back, smiling with godlike indifference at the world beyond the contraption. "May it never stop," he sighed, closing his eyes in ecstasy.

At that point I became conscious that I was at

its

its

motion

undressed

and

stamp

visible

was

in

the

that on

locker

the

ludicrous

locker-room

me,

but the

girl, like the

oblivious of virgin room, focused her on and attention my inelegant body While she observed the machine, Ellingsworth.

I studied her, speculating about her probable efficiency at classifying delinquent accounts and her competence in the arts of nonvocational, ex­ ecutive attentiveness a technique closely related to love and that many progressive corporations had incorporated into their body-conditioning programs, but which ours had not yet adopted because of our uncertainty over its effect on our insurance liability.

I knew it would be only a matter of time seemed

-

we became committed to a "love" pro­ since its to a power produce consistently gram, high state of euphoria in executives had been

before

thoroughly demonstrated in the laboratories of the

in

social

scientists.

"Night and day, you are the one," was played the company gymnasium where my wife NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

and

worked

where the

amatory arts had been

grateful I was, the Synthetic Fiber Company fOI'

for several years. How

practiced I reflected, to nurturing those natural talents of my wife, re­ fining them, so to speak, and what is more, bringing out latent possibilities of whose exist­ ence I had been totally ignorant when we first began living together.

But

the

present

demanded

moment

that

I

discover more about the girl in the leotard while Ellingsworth languished in technological bliss.

She wasn't angry when I touched her, oh, so deferentially; she merely smiled and came closer to

that I

so

me

of her

body

might participate in the warmth

in the lower-than-office temperatures

of the athletic plant. are very generous," I told her.

"But I for the life how of understand can't, me, they pre­

"You

want to know

might

about it

and, of

should like to get your reaction to it pect of its being done here at Ajax

"Well, love, I guess

...

Well, I mean everyone

really likes it, but if it's

I suppose everyone

yet

to be

mandatory,

as

work? I mean, how

you say, how will everyone

it all be worked out? It

can

sounds so terribly complicated."

Meanwhile, Ellingsworth was humming and coo­ ing with motion-induced contentment.

Suddenly, a bell rang indicating the change in classes

for

body-conditioning, and the machine

automatically stopped. "I guess it's time to go," she said sighing. She smiled provocatively at me and

suggested that we

meet

a

little later to go

into the love program more thoroughly. *

*

*

tion ?"

expanse of lawn where the festivities

"Oh, yes, I

excused from my duties for

am

a

certain time every day, and I am really improving

from my experience on the machine, so I don't consider it work as much as a planned program to develop my character and body in an integrated

fashion. It's the Greek ideal, after it to the

all, and lowe organization to remain in good physical

condition.

these

clothes?

They're really just worn to protect me from the machine, and I shouldnt be wearing them in the plant."

What could I say? She stepped out of her clothes and I had to admit that her body was a tribute to any machine.

"Splendid development," I told her. "Yet I won­ You

realize, don't you, that

as

you should

soon

the

love

program will become mandatory for everyone ex­

cept the towel room virgins,

as

soon

as

the ques­

tion of insurance liability is cleared up?"

euphoric," she answered.

"The

coffee in the cafeteria is bad and the cloak

I'm

room

"No, is

not

small

too

for

my

Oh, I'd better Ellingsworth seems

umbrella.

slow down the machine. Mr. to be falling asleep."

pressed a button and the machine deceler­ Ellingsworth opened his eyes and gazed about the room as though he had never seen it before. "By George, that was an experience! Let me have one more go at it, will you? Or were you waiting to use it?"

The secretary pressed the starting button and the machine had another "go" at Ellingsworth, while the girl and I resumed our discussion.

She

ated.

"Bad

Well,

coffee, eh? Highly destructive of morale.

I'll have

a

look into it tomorrow with the

Director of Participation and Leisure. But getting I thought you back to the love program .,

Fall,

Ellingsworth's patio and wide were taking place were ablaze with the dancing flames of mosquito lanterns and the glowing coals of the barbecue pits. Now and then the outline of one of the naked lawn gods was revealed by the flames. A fat little boy was offering grapes to a round-bodied young man who was playing a flute.

I heard Ellingsworth describe the pair as the cook-out

1962

away

and

sadly murmuring, "We have become cyni­

cal. We no longer believe in the old gods." Images of

the

traditional

deities

were

in

the

rose

beds

placed

sacred grottoes half hidden behind the near the barbecue pits.

a tall desiccated harpie, body partially covered by a length of brass­

E,llingsworth's wife, her

der if you are completely euphoric,

be?

It was time for the corporation's annual noctur­

deities of crab grass, and one of his guests walked

"Would you like to see me as I really am, with­ out

I

seems to need it and some like it more than others,

to

you

Refining,

"

nal

on

course, I the pros­

rnean.

spend your lunch hours and coffee breaks demonstrating the body-condition­ ing machine. Are you receiving extra compensa­

vailed

-

studded calfskin thrown

over

shoulder

one

and

wound around her hips, stood at the wrought-iron

gate and frightened away the starving youngsters their parents who were begging for food.

Ellingsworth was at the opposite end of the lawn greeting the guests and seeing to it that they were supplied with drinks and condiments.

Soon the yard was full of the hubbub of talking and laughing people and, as the evening pro­ and

gressed, the steady droning of the group became more strident, with the women speaking shrilly and the men talking and joking hoarsely.

I had come with my wife, but we soon separated in the dark, promising informality, she retiring to one of the holy grottoes with Ellingsworth's assistant and I explaining our body-conditioning program to one of my banker acquaintances whose friendship I had been cultivating in order to ob­ tain a low interest personal loan. "Too many dollars chasing too few goods. Overproduction and underconsumption with bad payment balance overtones and overextended credit hmmm," .

.

.

he said.

The

night breezes, clear and

warm,

made the

19

lights flicker and lent a weird perspective to the yard, accentuating the soft lines of the statues in the flowered grottoes and shimmering on the bod­ ies of the women. Silver and gold snowflakes, the fashion representing the latest in epidermal haute couture in our suburb, adorned them.

Before dinner, one of the men was elected Eros and given a bow and an arrow whose tip was saturated with a flammable liquid. At the stroke of ten, he dipped the arrow into a hot coal, where­ upon it burst into flame, and shot it toward the moon while the guests stood nearby chanting the lunar anthem of thanksgiving. It was a touching moment and many of the women wiped tears from the edges of their eyes.

1 approached one of the barbecue pits to inspect the food and to escape the dreary financial anal­ yses of the banker. 1

indifferent to the pros­

was

pect of offending him, since other bankers, more laconic, were at the party searching for custom­ ers and 1 could always make a proposal to one of them.

A small animal

turned

impaled

on

the barbecue

spit

the

slowly coals, dripping grease which sputtered in the flames. Its flesh was white over

like that of

but 1 could

delicate

fowl, looking, it, and decided that it was some kind of rare fowl which Ellingsworth had obtained from Europe especially for this occasion. As 1 adjusted my eyes to the brightness of the flames, 1 became conscious of another presence close by, a

not identify

and ,I turned and encountered the secretary who had been demonstrating the body-conditioning ma­ chine earlier in the day.

She had been dipped in a fragrant mosquito

re­

Ellingsworth kept at the front gate for those of his guests whose bodily con­

pellent,

tub of which

a

dition entitled them to frolic unadorned. She

was

carrying a toy poodle cradled in her arm, a strata­ gem that enabled her to assume a statuesque po­ sition whenever she stopped to converse.

"I'm not euphoric again tonight, surprisingly," she said.

"Not even after the machine?" 1 asked.

it helped, but 1 need

more

than

name." how

important

French.

for

How

an

interesting and yet understanding of Anglo­

Saxon belles-lettres."

"Yes, but 1 return always to my spiritual deso­ lation, and 1 feel utterly without fulfillment. Ac­ 1 said to Lord

tually, ribly utterly," she said. as

"I

know

Ellingsworth,

1 feel ter­

exactly. Yet you shouldn't feel that

program down

at

an

entire human rela­

Ajax, just

to

eliminate

spiritual desolation. Our gymnasium, the forth­ coming program in amatory arts during coffee 20

sensitivity

-

the entire "

range of

1 took her arm

human relations program and guided her away from the barbecue pit to­ ward one of the grottoes with a small fountain our

...

whose waters

splashed over mermaids and water

holding tridents. "I will admit that we haven't devoted enough time to the purely spiritual, but here at Ellingsworth's you see be­ babies

fore you,

in

grottoes like this, evidence of the

tastes of a contemplative man,

of the

the

a

person for whom

naiads

is as important worship holy speculation about the nature of man."

We stopped and looked into the pool, amusing ourselves by watching the shifting configurations of our reflections on the rippling water. I was a hydra-headed man, hovering over a maiden with tiers of copper-pointed breasts. It was diverting and absorbing and we shifted our positions from time to time to create new and unexpected re­ flections of ourselves. I reached out and clasped her waist to prevent her from falling into the as

pool,

a

disaster which

appeared imminent as she

leaned over too far. Her poodle growled and snap­

ped at me.

She apologized for the dog's behavior and put it on the ground, slapping it lightly but affection­ ately so it would run away. "Be sure and come back now, Simone," she admonished it. Then she turned to me.

"I would rather you didn't try to embrace

me

just now. I can feel your affection spiritually. It is palpable and I need no physical demonstration of it, at least not for the moment."

We began to stroll slowly through the darkness while she expressed to me profound longings which she told me she revealed only to those­ whose sensitivity was attuned to her own. Beyond the flicker of the mosquito torches we heard ex­ cited laughter. Some of the guests had divided themselves into teams, the men on one side and the women on the other. They were blindfolded and were observed

pursue

by a referee who enforced the

of the game

object apprehend the

and

was

for the

women

and

men

to

identify

them by touch. Each correct identification counted

single point. As soon as a team had scored points, the other side assumed the offensive.

The referee gravely pursuing each play or "scrim­ mage" was accompanied by the secretary's poo­ dle, which darted and barked at the sportive cou­ ples who were dueling and moving in a flame illumined spectacle that resembled some recon­ as

a

six

dite and primitive ballet.

"Body-contact sports are even yet the most character-development activities. It's too bad that our younger people, so full of energy, are not permitted to indulge in such games freely and without restraint," 1 observed.

My companion, whose arm by this time was entwined in mine, pulled me gently away from effective

way. We have structured

tions

ment of tactile

rules. The

"Oh, something that, valuable as it is. There is desolation in my spirit, a certain emptiness. Ii pleut dans mon coeur, as the French poet said. I've forgotten his "You know

breaks, the sensuous isolation cell for the refine­

NORTH WESTERN

TRI -QU ARTERL Y

the contest to

a

less populous section of the yard

toward the main grotto in which the patron god and goddess of fiscal probity reposed, their lim bs intertwined and forever fixed in marble.

"I suspect that the games also relieve tension;"

don't they?"

"Indeed they do," I answered. "As I

fact,

was

line backer on the

team three years ago when en

in the

play-offs

we

a

country

matter of

club men's

defeated the wom­

twelve to six. We

were

simply

exhausted after that contest. I have the trophy in my office. You must

drop in and see it sometime.

quite proud of it, you know. It reminds me of

I'm

the days when I was young and vigorous and before

destiny inflicted this marsupial protuberance on me But I digress. Suffice to say that the games are extremely effective in relieving ten­ sions and also teach the highest standards of sportsmanship.

"I, too, have tensions to release," she said.

"Perhaps I should play the game, but better an­ other time, when I'm not so made up. I did want .

.

.

"

My companion gasped and brought her hand to lips in horror. I looked and was repelled by tho sight of one of the ugly stunted children rend­

her

ing apart the carcass of a dog and munching on tearing

its leg while the others crowded about, pieces of flesh from the still live animal.

"My poodle!" she screamed. She flew furiously urchins, but Lady Ellingsworth restrained her, saying, "After all, the loathsome little crea­ tures are hungry."

I guided my companion away from the re­ volting spectacle. She regained her composure as she realized that her hot tears were streaking the artificial shadows she had painted beneath at the

her eyes. "Let's hide in one of the grottoes until I can restore my make-up," she said.

I led her

carefully

over

some

fountain-washed

rocks and around a bed of Ellingsworth's precious and fragrant blue-veined poppies which surround­

changing the

carving of two copulating seals pre­ on a rock beside the pool. cariously In real life, I reflected, they must frequently tumble from some insular precipice locked to­ gether, splashing into the heaving, fathomless

tle

water.

to

ask you

about the

amatory arts," she said,

subject. "Actually I've had very lit­ experience in loving. Oh, I have been the ob­ ject of generous and uncontrollable passions, and I must admit that the sensations were interesting, I really know very little but love and loving about it. That is, I really cannot say I have pene­ trated its recesses deeply. I have read the phi­ losophers, especially the works of the supermar­ ket heiress whom they call the underprivileged rich girl, and she says that there are latent and manifest aspects of love one involving self-abne­ gation and the other dedication to its physical pos­ sibilities. The truly loving person, according to the underprivileged rich girl, is the one complete­ .

.

.

-

ly oriented to the maternal approach to living­ passive, forgiving, non-philosophical, and physi­ cal.

"

"Does the self-abnegation aspect of it exist apart from the physical side of love or are the two

so

interrelated

that

the

cultivation

of

the

produces the manifest aspects of it or vice versa? What does your philosopher say of this? By the way, what is her latent characteristics of it

name? Perhaps I shall read her."

"Prudence Wadsworth. As you know, she is an expatriate who has dedicated her life to the Quartz King of Crete. Her permanent residence is on his yacht, from which she refuses to go ashore, preferring the life of the sea with its proximity to the elements or eternal things."

We were close to the wrought-iron gate and the a dark sen­ solitary figure of Lady Ellingsworth when we heard a se­ tinel, poised, motionless ries of subhuman growls. Among these sounds, which seemed to be coming from beggars grouped at the gate, we could hear the thin, agonized cries of a small animal. We rushed to the gate to see what had happened.

-

-

Fall, 1962

ed

an

onyx

balanced

An overhead lattice covered with grapes a small bench where she sat and

concealed

remade her

eyes

with the

blue-veined

As

I

subtle pollen of the waited, I knelt and

poppies. dipped my hand in the pool, tracing it idly back and

forth

to

my hand and arm. heard my wife's voice

cool

I

from a 'Suddenly the bed of was hedge beyond poppies. She speak­ ing but I could not distinguish her words. When she stopped talking, I heard male laughter, long sighs and a slight commotion in the underbrush, and I knew that my wife had not been lonely or bored in my absence. I hoped that the man's voice belonged to the banker and that he would recall his experience with my wife with a certain zest when I approached him later for a personal

loan.

When my companion and I emerged from the she with her make-up completely re­ stored and I with my curiosity somewhat piqued

grotto,

by the provocative noises I had heard from the bushes, we found the lawn completely devoid of people. The games had ceased and the guests, half hidden in the grottoes, were feasting on and salads and drinking from pools which, I later discovered, had been ingeniously flavored with wine. The torchlights burning low cast dark frightening shadows.

barbecued meats the

"My do

for

little

poor

walked

across

dog," she murmured

the

cool

grass.

"What

as

we

shall

I

companionship now?"

Before

I

could

Ellingsworth,

who

answer

stepped

we

were

out

of

startled the

by

shadows

and put his hand

on her arm.

"Oh," she cried, pressed against me. "You could have warned me," she reprimanded him.

Ellingsworth accompanied us. "I'm awfully

and

21

about your dog," he said. "But perhaps get you another. These children don't get

sorry I

can

enough to eat and they make routine inspections of our garbage, and when we have parties, they come in herds to wait for the leavings. Why don't with

me

and I'll get you another

mean

you

have

come

you

"You

here?"

one

she

give

can

more

us,

I

assured him that

and

him

watched

and out of

her

guide sight.

my

into

in

one

and

arm

bow

his

excuse

dark

attested to that. Even wives

and

festive

collaborations of

such

this

one.

were

con­

as

mankind

abstract ideas to unique tactile ex­ periences in the magic grottoes of Ellingsworth's verted from

estate.

Even my companion, that superbly proportioned

darkness

the

another. the

in

unnecessary

in

one

from

highest aspirations

As I hesitated about where I should go, Eros stepped out of the darkness with a laughing woman

yard

gasps

The

one

the

of the

and

kind

than the

were

excuses

recesses

sounds

dog."

one

along.. my dear. You will won't you?" he asked me.

satisfied

asked

you

you lost. Come

The

husbands, refusing to hoard their exclusive affection for one another, or their possessiveness, readily projected a universal love for all man­

suspiciously.

"Of course, and I fancy I that you will appreciate even

venienced themselves to be kind to

other.

I

recognized her as the wife of one of my neighbors. She was president of the woman's board of the local family service settlement house, a generous and accommodating woman.

Her body was scarcely covered by a net of blue cloth. Eros told me he had caught her in one of the pools as easily as an overfed trout.

While he was talking to me, she slipped away and ran off into the night while he pursued her.

Finding nothing better to divert me, I set off in search of my wife, hardly expecting to find her in a night which was rapidly becoming cre­ puscular, as the sun marched toward the eastern

goddess of bodily conditioning, found another dog in Ellingsworth's house, a suitable companion for her loving and trusting nature. Much later I discovered that she chose to live with Ellings­ worth, sacrificing her privacy so that she might reform him physically in order that his form might match his wit.

My wife, a woman as selfless as the blessed had sacrificed herself in the grottoes might readily obtain the collateral-free I had sought.

martyrs, so

that I

loan

horizon. I wandered from grotto to grotto, stop­ ping occasionally to respond to the blandishments of

women

who concealed themselves in the

bowers and the

to

men

At the

rose

hedges and granted unique rewards who

discovered

gate,

rear

a

them.

group of guests

was

teasing

hungry urchins outside by extending pieces of barbecued flesh to them on silver fishing poles. the

DEMOCRACY

children would jump toward the bait, and they succeeded in leaping high enough, the

The if

bait

was

would

lowered into their

seize

it

•

In

hungry mouths. They

ravenously,

then

shriek

the

as

th�

tender membranes of their mouths would be torn

by the jagged fishhooks.

Becoming bored with this, of the anointed

women

two

men

lifted

one

and held her vulnerable

body over the fence while the urchins leaped hungrily attempting to tear at her. She screamed and writhed, imprisoned in the arms of the men, while the other guests laughed and shouted di­ rections at her captors. "Lower! Lower!" they shouted.

But

"Let them touch her."

the

men,

after

frightening her almost

to

unconsciousness, brought her back. Her breast heaved with the breathing induced by her terror and one of the bystanders, another neighbor,

I

respects the suburbs

likely to be­ come, if they have not already, the key spots in the American political system. Population move­ ments in the United States, for example, are en­ hancing and will continue to enhance the sheer n

many

are

numerical importance and influence of the suburbs

politics. Furthermore, because of the nature, status, and aspirations of suburban residents, it

in

took her into the darkness to comfort her.

I

could

not

help but reflect

on

the

kindness

and humanitarianism of these and

22

co-workers,

all

of

people; neighbors whom willingly inconNORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

wonder the

liquid position of the reserve improved, lifting our noble land from an incipiently debased coinage to a fiscally sound economy. Later, as I experienced the delights of the body conditioner in the corporate gym­ No

banks had

nasium, I reflected on these and other Parnas­ sian delights still awaiting me. How efficacious, after all, was the admonition, "Love one an­ other, not forgetting thyself."

For he

Ellingsworth the in

end

blissfully

as

conditioner.

An

secretary

in­

came

the

vibrating body embolism, said the doctors. The was

herited his watch and

with her,

several hours the time.

She

gently

I

so

horrified

at

one

was

asleep

wouldn't the

I

night,

spending

looked at it to learn and

awaken

luminous

after

dial.

I lifted

her, The

her

and

arm

stared

hand

was

moving rapidly around the face of the dial from night to day and night to day again and again, while the light outside seemed to blink on and off. Time to do many things, I reflected, the illu­ sion you get when but there was, suddenly,

David W. Minar is Assistant Professor of Political Sci­ ence

and Research Associate in the Center for Metro­

politan Studies at Northwestern. Born in Portland, Ore­ gon, he received his undergraduate education at Reed Col/ege and his M.A. and Ph.D. at the University of California (Berkeley). Before joining the Northwestern faculty in 1958 he worked as administrative analyst for the President of the University of California and taught at Columbia University. He has previously published in scholarly journals and has contributed chapters to forth­ coming books on education in urban society and on the politics of state reapportionment. At present Mr. Minar is conducting research on the government and politics of school systems in suburban areas.

...

no

more

time.

By David W. Minar

UBURBS likely that suburban communities will sup­ ply much of the leadership and tone of American life, political and otherwise, in the coming gen­ eration.

Given its importance for the entire American political picture, it is interesting to ask questions about the political situation of suburbia seems

democracy requires,

and

sideration

the

of

what

on

the other hand social

con­

peculiar permit. In the discussion will ease from the first problem

circum­

stances of the suburbs to

follow,

we

into the second.

Democracy

means

many

things in the modern

itself. What kind of ethos and what kind of train­

world,

ing ground does the typical suburban area offer American democracy?

There are two sides to the question, "What is the condition of democracy in the suburbs?" It involves, on the one hand, consideration of what

impermissible exercise in pretentious­ ness. symbolic uses, important in themselves, tend to make it cover all truth and beauty. But reflection on the operating meaning of democracy

Fall,

1962

seem

and to say what lies at the heart of it may an

Its

in Western culture suggests that the crucial ele-

23

ment of the democratic

political system lies in a mechanism for providing the great body of the people with meaningful choices between mean­ ingful alternatives. In a modern society, particu­ larly a complex, large-scale society where num­ bers create isolation and man is separated from an intimate understanding of his environment, meaningful choice requires structure political

presumably disappear in the interim periods. Such appearances and disappear­ ances are in fact ordinarily changes in name and other external trappings of a persistent but in­ visible local political group. From the point of view of democratic standards the problem with

structure to mediate between the individual and

tunity for the assertion of responsibility or the assurance of continuity as grounds for popular judgment and choice.

-

the

The

mechanisms decision-making process. provide this structure are of the genus poli­ tical party, although many mechanisms that fill the mediating function are not ordinarily labeled parties. Whatever name they are given, these mechanisms ideally do for the voter what the concept of structure implies, namely, give order to a body of confusedly related phenomena, and in this role they seem to be essential to the mass­ that

choice process. Without them the voter confronts frustration and misunderstanding. With them he mayor may not establish

some

control

over

the

choice-process, depending on the way the medi­ ating mechanisms work. In the simplest terms, the mechanisms are to be judged on two counts, whether they offer alternatives for choice, and whether they help give the choice-process mean­ ing through clarification. Thus the "democratic­ ness" of a political system may be evaluated by examination of the operation of its intervening party structure.

On these tests local government in the United

States does not in general come off well. While it has developed structures to fulfill the party func­

tion, these structures have not often been suc­ cessful in assisting the citizen in meaningful se­ lection between meaningful alternatives. Consider the variety of party systems commonly found in American municipalities. For convenience, though at the risk of considerable

oversimplification, we

will classify these into five types, 1.

as

follows:

No-party non-partisanship. In this category

fall those systems which, because of formal legal inhibitions or otherwise, make no use of identifi­ able

parties in selecting candidates or clarifying

issues in local elections. In such systems there is visible party structure; candidates presumably

no

select themselves with the assistance and

urging

'mle operating result of such systems usually be described as "crypto-caucus" or

of friends. can

"crypto-party" control. That is to say, party func­ tions are fulfilled by self-selected groups acting below the level of public visibility. The difficulty with such a system, by democratic standards, is that it provides neither continuity nor responsi­ bility except on a strictly personal basis. Person­ ality and personal performance are obscure grounds for judgment in a community of any size or complexity.

2. The ad hoc party system. In this category we

include those systems in which

24

parties bob up at

election times

and

this system, like that with the system discussed immediately above, is that it offers little oppor­

3. The

By

we mean a system formally recognized group in the community arrogates to itself the function of selecting candidates for public office and, on occasion, the function of developing positions on

in which

public hoc"

caucus.

caucus

small and

a

issues.

The

caucus

differs

from

system in its permanence,

party

the

"ad

and from

the

"no-party non-partisanship" system in its formality and public visibility. In most kinds of

communities where the

caucus

is

an

established

mediating institution, its choices are in effect final.

There is little social

political capital in oppos­ ing the caucus slate. Such opposition is seldom offered and even more seldom successful, leaving the caucus with a monopoly over the leadership recruitment process. The difficulty with the caucus system is that it is not, under these circumstances, a mechanism for popular choice. Choice is made before the balloting process, and the role of the citizen becomes merely that of validator of the or

decisions of the controlling group.

Major party partisanship. In many communi­ ties, particularly larger cities, local elections are fought along Republican-Democratic lines, with local parties seeking, by use of party labels, the support of those whose general political position is oriented toward one major national party or the other. This arrangement, historically a prime target of municipal reformers, is attacked on the ground that it confuses issues. The attack pro­ ceeds along two lines, 1) that there is "no Re­ publican or Democratic way to build a sewer," and 2) that even if local issues do excite differ­ ences and conflict, these differences are irrelevant to whatever it is that divides the two major parties on the state or national level. Thus whether one favors John Kennedy or Richard Nixon for 4.

President

has

little

to

with

do

his

choice

for

village trustee. It may be noted at this point, however, that the major party partisanship does provide structure where there is a reason­ able basis for the existence of two and not just one of the major parties in the attachments of the local citizenry. In two-party communities, in other words, and particularly in larger towns where. friendships are unlikely to provide the basis for a mayor or

party

structure,

chotomy

as

the

the basis

Republican-Democratic for

a

structure

di­

of choice

may have a good deal to be said for it.

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

5. Local party partisanship. Under this label we refer to situations where two parties, strictly lo­ cal in nature and without ties to the national po­ litical groups, contest for political office visibly and

persistently. In respect to the democratic criteria of meaningful choice between real alternatives, this arrangement might appear to be ideal. It affords structure for the political situation with­ out the confusion introduced by the major party system. It must be said, however, that there is serious question whether local parties can sus­ tain themselves in many and perhaps most com­ munities, whether they can elicit the enthusiasm and find the acceptable grounds for conflict which will make them persistent forces on the com­ munity scene. Though perhaps this suggestion is unduly pessimistic, in the typical suburban setting the ideal of two local groups fighting it out over local issues for the voters' approval may be little more than a reformer's dream.

These would

seem

mechanisms in swer

use

to

be the

principal choice

in American towns. The

to the problem of democracy in the

however, is

an­

suburbs,

simple as picking the best imposing that form on the local community. Such a procedure smacks a good deal of old-style municipal reform by recipe, but contemporary social science has come to ap­ preciate, as indeed Aristotle appreciated centuries ago, that some things work some times in some places and others don't, that the system that may be congenial to one situation may utterly fail in another. Politics, in other words, is an outgrowth of the society in which it is set, and the nature of the society imposes limits on what can be ex­ pected of the political system. What, we might now ask, does the culture of the suburbs permit?

We will treat this question in two parts, first dealing with some general similarities that seem to tie the suburban social structure together as a from

a

not

as

list of models and

genus, and then with some differences among sub­

urbs, differences that are perhaps even more im­ portant than the similarities. There is, indeed, something rather deceptive in talking about "the suburbs" at all. A passing acquaintance with sub­ urban communities reveals variety as much as it does likeness.

Yonkers and Scarsdale,

Secaucus

and Ho Ho

Kus, are socially poles apart, as are Calumet City and Palatine, Dixmoor and Win­ netka. Among the ninety-five Cook County, Illinois, suburbs of more than 2,500 population, for exam­ ple, there are nine with more than 5 per cent non-white residents. Of these nine, the non-white proportion of the median community is 19.1, but

characteristics, of which we will briefly discuss only the four that seem most vital. One of these is a high degree of what many sociologists call "familism." Familism is reflected in a variety of ways high fertility ratios, large numbers of chil­ dren, living accommodations designed for the com­ mon convenience of the family unit and particu­ larly for the pleasure of children, community ac­ -

tivities that

tendency

child-centered in nature,

are

and

a

for these activities to be in fact woman­

directed.

A second suburban characteristic is

mobility in

geographic

a

settled suburbs

sense.

mobility­

Even

old

and

in the

Chicago area experience yearly mobility indices as high as fifteen per cent and more. This mobility is stimulated both by the nature of the suburbanite's job attachment and by his social aspirations. The job attachment factor may be simply the force of the corporation mov­ ing personnel from plant to plant, from metropoli­ tan area to metropolitan area, or the movement of professional or managerial or sales types to seek greener fields in some new metropolis. So­ cial mobility ties to geographic mobility as those on

the

houses

way

to

move

up

split

levels

from and

cracker box

from

split

ranch

levels

to

residence farther

junior estates, usually finding and farther from the central city in the process.

A third characteristic of suburbs is social homo­

geneity. Suburban communities tend to segregate a variety of social characteristics. Particular­ ly, new suburbs tend to draw together people of similar economic means and standards and aspira­ tions. Perhaps the most striking form of segre­ gation achieved in the suburbs is ethnic, the ex­ tent of which is suggested by the statistics on the Chicago area cited above. But this is only the most dramatic of the variety of social dimen­ sions, including social and economic level, on which suburban populations tend to fall into segr e­ on

gational patterns.

A

fourth

social

characteristic

of

suburbanites

might call divided loyalty. This is a function in part of the mobility of the suburban population of which we spoke above. Few suburban residents have roots in what are presumably their own com­ munities. Many are recent comers to the metro­ politan area, and many even to the state and region. The occupational career and family pat­ tern of the suburbanite may before he is thirty have cut his ties to any community to which he might feel able to belong in a real and traditional The old home town, the college site, the sense. we

wife's home town, the cities of the first and per­ all of these are

than 60 per cent non-whites in their total populations. Nearly all the Cook County

haps the second and third jobs

suburbs except these nine have infinitesimal pro­ portions of non-whites.

part but to which he no longer truly belongs except perhaps in spirit. Small wonder if he feels tenta­ tive the ties with the community in which he There are other dimen­ now happens to reside. sions, too, to the matter of divided loyalty, for

three have

Thus it

more

is

difficult to treat the

suburbs

as

a

"thing" that can be described. Most suburban so­ cieties do, however, display some common social

Fall,

1962

-

communities of which the suburbanite was

once

a

25

in the average case loyalty will be torn between place of residence and workplace in the central

city or in another suburb, as it will also be torn between the community of the home and the "community," i.e., the network of interactions, of the corporation or perhaps the profession to which the suburbanite belongs and with which his ties may be older and more persistent. Even rec­ reational "communities" often reach across city and village limits.

All of these factors and the

more

are

The

manager. of

the

and

formally the employee community, is permitted

manager,

citizens

of the

forced to take upon himself the active

even

functions of the local government. He is expected to handle problems and settle disputes with a minimum of trouble to the the

this

In

form

citizenry of the area. popular control is

of

fashion, preserved while the substance of control is radi­

cally revised.

In sum, the political situation of the suburb is likely to be the victim of the suburban resident's own split personality. High demands on govern­ ment and good intentions for democracy must battle the many forces, physical, social, economic, and personal, that inhibit the suburbanite's full commitment to his community. In part this con­ dition is a particular instance of the contemporary

reflected in

political situation characteristic of the sub­ area.

On the one hand, the political at­

urban

titudes of suburbanites toward the local communi­

ty would seem to be summed up in a demand for high services, a willingness to pay for them, and a desire for a high degree of personal political

American's disinterest in

political affairs. Much apathy is involved, however, for the suburban citizen's expectations of his local gov­ ernment are high and his fundamental ideology tells him he should participate substantially.

participation and control. Part of the suburbanite's impetus to move to the suburban area, it has been suggested, lies in his urge to recreate the small

than

more

town, to restore the frontier situation where poli­ tics could be handled in face-to-face interaction and community consent was an active thing. Some

Circumstances stand between him and fulfillment

of the social characteristics of the suburb would

of

seem

conducive to the realization of these

particularly community homogeneity and to an extent familism provide grounds on which a poli­ tics of popular consensus and personal control might work.

But on the other hand, some aspects of the suburban social situation pull in a contrary di­ rection and probably in the long run have the bet­ ter of it. These pulls away from real local political dis­ control might be described as distractions tractions from adequate commitment to the local community. The factor of geographic mobility, the factor of upward social aspiration, the func­ tional ties to workplace and corporation and pro­ fessional group obscure the importance of local participation and limit its practicability. The oc­ cupational life-style of the commuting suburban male often renders a high rate of local political participation impossible. Furthermore, the politi­ cal basis of the most crucial (and expensive) of all local governmental services, the provision of education for the young, whose importance the familistic culture of the suburbs maximizes, is usually separated from the political basis of local community life. Thus, the school district and its political affairs, legally separated from the local municipality for good or ill reasons, becomes in itself a distraction from municipal politics and perhaps even the basis Of a substitute local polity.

In many localities school affairs provide the only real

occasions

for civic action

and

political

ex­

A

fairly common result of the interaction of this complex of forces would seem to be a high degree of reliance in suburban communities on what might be called "technical authority," usu­ ally embodied in the person of a city or village 26

latter

of

element

his

social

needs

and

result, decision-making in the subur­ ban community is likely to rest with paid em­ ployees and choice to be handled by a mediating a

mechanism with the appearance but not the real qualities of democracy. These are the political time-savers

and

conscience-preservers

of

subur­

ban life.

As

pointed out above, there are substantial and significant variations on the suburban theme.

Even given the fairly common characteristics of suburban political life discussed in preceding par­ agraphs, some attention in our evaluation of dem­ ocracy in the suburbs must be given to differ­

-

citement.

this

drives. As

goals;

we

among suburbs that make

ences

a

difference in

politics. Since it is impossible to treat the in­ finite varieties of suburban political systems in comprehensive fashion, we will attempt here only to describe the central political character­ istics of three mythical but typical suburban .

towns.

first

The

of

these

we

call

will

Status

View.

Status View is a newer suburb, likely to be further from

central

the

below,

set

on

city than the types described

what

was

forest

or

open country

a

few years back, or imposed on a country town it has probably overwhelmed. Socially, its resi­

dents

are

characterized by high mobility, unful­

filled aspirations, and more and younger children.

The community itself has more development prob­ lems, the problems of streets and sidewalks and curbs and sewers, the problems of water supply and overcrowded schools, the problems of zoning and an inadequate-because-non-industrial tax base.

In

Status View there

visible

grounds suburbs and political conflict than probably less general fear of it. Politics may be are

for

seen

more

in

by

some

in

Status

other

View

NORTH WESTERN

as

a

game

and

TRI -QU ARTERL Y

sometimes even

springboard to participation Typical­ ly, Status View will utilize a local-party or major­ party framework for political choice, though in as

a

in politics on other levels of government.

of

some

its

counterparts

a

no-party

or

ad

hoc

likely to loosen and major party partisanship, perhaps even the grasping tentacles of central city machine, may take its place. Or, the political structure of the community may seem to dissolve

is

before the eyes

away

and real control fall into

system will be found in operation. If the town has

the hands of a covert structure operating beneath

"matured" to the point where a manager is em­ ployed, the manager will be allowed less latitude

the social surface. This is the suburban situation

here for decision

authority is

His role will be

and initiative than elsewhere.

more

nearly that of the classical

model- the technical employee. In general terms of Status View is to main­

the

political problem sufficient community continuity

tain

in which the

social situation.

frantic life-style of its residents and the high popu­

are on

their way up. In Higher Station the small

town syndrome has reached its schizophrenic peak.

do not seek the small town, they they have attained it. They dislike con­ flict, fear its implications, and resent its dis­ ruptions. Above all. else they desire to sustain the town in its pristine character. Politics they regard as a duty without social rewards. Higher Station's characteristic political manifestations are the caucus or the crypto-caucus, which keeps

Its

residents

believe

government conflict-free and under control, and a

degree of devolution of functions to the authority, who is as secure in his job as his ability to contain or suppress conflict within the community can make him.

A third suburb we will call Precipitous Heights.

Precipitous Heights is the fringe community, usu­ ally with a glorious past but with a present and future much less certain. Precipitous Heights, an old suburb lying near the borders of the cen­ tral city, is suffering urbanization problems, phy­ sical deterioration, and heterogenization of popu­ lation. In political style it usually looks back to its old situation, to the time when its politics were gentlemanly and without conflict.

Perhaps the shell of the old political structure remains, very high

technical

but its

relevance to the social

community is gone

or

fast

character of the

disappearing.

As the

problems of change press on the community, it must undergo traumatic adjustment to new needs and demands. It experiences conflicts, perhaps

zoning violations or police scandals, per­ social dis adjustments rooted in ethnic haps and religious changes. As a result of its reaching for the past, Precipitous Heights is likely to try to

over

over

sweep its conflicts under the rug and attempt to live life as it has always been lived, even when

such life is clearly obsolete. The grip of the caucus

Fall, 1962

question,

as

the

instability in an already tentative

Beneath this account may

seem

to lie

a

deter­

politics. It may seem describing here an inexorable evolutionary process. But such an interpretation misses the point. Deterioration can be forestalled and democratic political form achieved. The point, however, is that this can be done only in the face of obstacles like those detailed above, of which three merit reemphasis. One of these is the ad­ verse effects on suburban politics of what we might call disinvolvernent. Disinvolvement is oft­ en identified as apathy, but apathy is only a part of the story. The politics of the suburban area suffers disinvolvement not only because citi­ zens are apathetic, but also because they are the subjects of numerous social distractions and real social fears. Secondly, suburban politics often suf­ fers from a deep-rooted fear of conflict. It often seems easy to pretend that disputes cannot exist and to provide structures for their concealment, though such courses of action do nothing to keep the objective situation in repair. But fear of con­ flict does stifle much of what might be done to ministic view of suburban

that

A second type of suburb might be called Higher Station, a community characterized by high in­ tegration and high homogeneity. Higher Station, an older suburb, is the place of residence of those who "have it made" or can afford to pretend they do, and it is often the goal of those who

likely

technical

manager finds it increasingly difficult to play the game of all of them. This fact in itself

creates further

lation turnover of the community.

of the

to be in

the

develop

lems. The difficulty of continuity arises out of the

stability

number of groups in the community increases and

the consensual framework for the solution of prob­

to

and

role

most

we

create

have been

a

system where real alternatives

may be

offered and real choices made. Thirdly, democracy in suburban politics may suffer from over-reliance on

technical authority. There are, to be sure, situ­ authority is effective and

ations where technical even on

situations where it is necessary. But to rely authority to perform the basic func­

technical

tions of government is to abdicate popular con­ trol. Furthermore, it mixes into the local prob­

lem-solving process the needs, personal and pro­ fessional, of the local bureaucracy. These needs are

human and

able,

but

they

some

of their effects

are

unavoid­

do little to rationalize citizen

con­

trol of the political system.

Such factors

social

as

situation,

these, rooted in ideology and development

tend to inhibit the

of democracy in the suburbs. Even where service

levels

are

high

and

satisfaction

is

general, the

democratic condition of

popular choice is stulti­ fied. Thus by the test of abstract standards, demo­ cracy in the suburbs is often to be found

wanting.

In turn, the situation of suburban government

doubtless has

community

an

impact on the readiness of the accept responsi-

and the individual to

27

bilities of various sorts. On

one

level these may

of the local

be the responsibilities political ture itself to respond and adjust to new needs. The

struc­

recognition of growing groups, the institution of new services, the general function of planning may be ignored or put off by an unresponsive polity. On another level they may be responsibili­ ties

in

the

broader

of

arena

the

metropolitan

and support that the solution of these problems requires. While in general metropolitan pluralism has much to be said for

it, the frictions and dis­ adjustments caused by the failure to meet certain specific problems head-on will impose burdens on the entire urban community.

Finally, the suburbs have responsibilities for the development of political interest and talent. Sub­

Though political characteristic of areas is fragmentation, most today's metropolitan

urban residents must offer themselves and prepare

of their social

problems

American

have area-wide

impact. One of the most difficult

the chief

area.

run

for the suburbanite is realization of his

matters

stake

must in the middle

in

the

welfare

of

the

Without the stimulus of local

entire metropolis. political vigor, it is

doubtful that suburban communities will often con­ tribute their

share

of the

initiative, leadership,

their children for

political service

to

the entire

society as well as to the local com­ munity, or they must expect to surrender leader­ ship to more politically vigorous social groups.

A major link in the development of the suburbs' political responsibility to the whole society may well lie in the vitalization of political democracy in the suburban community itself.

POEMS by RAY RIPTON Ray Ripton, L.A. '58, is an ex-Marine, who formerly was Director of Public Relations at Yankton College, Yankton, South Dakota. He has published some of his poems in Pasque Petals, South Dakota state poetry journal, and is now beginning work upon a novel. After his graduation he worked for a year with Northwestern's Office of Information Services. Currently he is studying for his Master's Degree in Journalism at the University of California, Los Angeles.

Compartmental To know the

picture-not the painter, perfume-not its wearer, To hear a ship's horn-not its passengers, This the price we pay for compartments To discern the

LEGACY

of self-concern.

Three

things

I leave to you After my heart is dust:

FOR HOLLY May Holly's world be fresh and bright

Some stocks and bonds, the house in town,

And hold

Much love.

might-have-been.

Mayall her candles last the night, Her hopes stay evergreen. no

JOY Hot, moist forehead, Pain and sudden tears, But then. a child is born.

COLD SPELL Cold is my heart, Cold my brain,

Cold my spirit.

I cannot explain.

WINTER'S TALE

Full blows the wind;

Crisp snow,

My sails do not fly.

Fresh falls the rain; My thoughts are dry.

A wisp of smoke Trails

through a rose-blue sky. me. yet I always get

It moves

.

Wet feet.

SAILING By a frozen lake A boat waits, a tall sail sags.

Summer frees them soon.

28

Colder than

zero

to

a

small child's touch

Is my grasp on life.

Perhaps I ask too much.

Cold is my heart, Cold my brain, Cold my spirit.

I cannot explain.

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

the Czech Border

on

Because she ine

hurried

was

late for the excursion Kather­

the Neuer Markt, circling gently spraying fountain of the Donnerbrun­ nen and thinking in enchantment that Vienna was the glittering jewel on the last finger of freedom pointing into that other world, that Central Eu­ ropean way of life now stretching into surround­ ing Poland and Czechoslovakia and Rumania and Hungary and, beyond, over all the Russias toward the East She was thoroughly enjoying the indulgence of romantic observations, since she was quite young, in Europe for the first time, and only the night before had witnessed a rather overwhelming culmination of the seventh Weltjugendfest in the Rathausplatz.

But there was something in Vienna, something effervescent and buoyant, so different from the heavy Germanic strain she had expected to find, some infusion of Turk and Slav and Magyar that magnetized her. Yet about what it was she hadn't time to ponder, for there were Holden and Rich­ ard standing before the Europa, waiting with martyr-like impatience, leaning their dacron-cov­ ered thighs a bit guiltily against the dusty fender across

the

By Shirley (Stuckert) Zoeger

Shirley Stuckert, now Mrs. John E. loeger, was born in Milwaukee and attended the

transferring

to

Northwestern's

University of Wisconsin, School

of

where she received her B.S. in 1946. She

Journalism,

....

was

a

mem­

ber of Theta Sigma Phi, in journalism.

feature

honorary professional society Variously as society editor, photographer,

writer,

papers in Texas

and reporter,

she

worked

on

news­

City, Mexico City, and Milwaukee. For

time she taught at the Santa Monica

(California) High School, and attended graduate school at the University a

of California at Los Angeles. Her husband is a zoologist.

Their home is presently in Woodland Hills, California.

The incident described in the story below occurred day after the Youth Festival in Vienna ended, in

the

August, 1959. Mrs. loeger writes concerning it, "l was doing free lance photography in Europe at the time and managed to come away with several 'verboten' pictures of the border barricades, despite the chase by the

:Czechy.'"

of

a

Simca.

"Oh,

you

have

it!"

Katherine

cried.

"We're

going?"

"Of course," Holden answered peevishly. "We said we'd leave

at noon."

did

you

get it?" Katherine patted

the hood of the

car.

"We

"But

how

couldn't find

one

for

three days with all this Youth Festival activity going on, and I do want to drive down there to

Fall, 1962

29

see

if it's true, whether there is

You're quite

Iron Curtain.

an

wonder to have done it. And I'm

a

awfully pleased we ran into each other like that the Sacher." She spoke excitedly, still sur­ prised at encountering in Vienna two tablemates from the ocean crossing a month ago.

"It's only for the half-day." Richard's mouth pursed with prim precision. He was a short and compact youth, bespectacled and somewhat pale at

of eye and skin. "There the agency."

was

this cancellation at

we've yet to get the route straight," muttered, shifting long, loosely-jointed limbs. His large blue eyes protruded slightly be­ neath blond eyebrows in a face quite cherubic.

"Where were you, anyway?"

"I told you I'd be on the Kahlenburg tour this morning, and after we came back we grabbed a bite in the Opernpassage. There were three ter­ ribly dark men there, Iraqis it turned out, and one wore a bright red tie with someone's picture "And

Holden

a

fit when I asked who it

was, and it was Kessem.

They were furious when

on

I

it. Aunt Alice had

guessed

Tito

first."

at

"Where is your aunt?"

"Just

freshening up at the Bristol." Katherine "Oh, I rushed so! And we're awfully happy you'll drive us down. Aunt Alice thinks it silly and that there'll be only a fence to see, but I do so want to go." Her tawny hair, clipped closely around a head held high, ruffled almost imperceptibly in a sudden warm wind;

'gave

little gasp.

a

she smoothed it with

while

into

getting

whisk of

a

the

a

freckled hand

car.

Holden drove around the

fountain, passing the

crypt of the Capuchin monks. "Oh, it is a splendid it?"

city,

isn't

view

again

Katherine

insisted, craning to chapel. "It's where all the Hapsburgs are buried, you know.

All of that glory, all gone now!" The boys did not reply; they stared ahead as the crowded Karntnerstr asse came under the wheels. "There, you can see the Bristol to the left, just across from the Staatsoper." To herself she said it again, Staatsoper, a trifle smug at so casually incorporating the German.

She had come to attend the university for a year's study of Germanic language and literature, to be watched over by her father's sister Alice, a

sort

medieval

small

Auntie Mame who

of watered-down

acutely from the defection

suffered

daughter, Travel

the

now

with

who after the

a

novitiate in

mother

-

a

a

of her

still

only

Roman convent.

henna-haired

divorcee

had waited voraciously for the ships to resume an Atlantic run, so eager was she to disperse the generous ali­ mony acquired from a suddenly wealthy manu­ facturer of dried milk products was not what the shy child needed. She missed her father, solidarity, a stable home on a suburban street.

The Dorchester in London or the Grand in Paris, -

30

of the

boulevards

and

the

pilgrimages

to the great

repositories of art were meaningless to the lonely girl. After completing the last year her Swiss

at

school

announced

she

to

Alice in

(where they were sojourning before set­ tling in Austria) that she intended to enter a convent. After months of fruitless pleading with her child, Alice resigned herself to ingratitude.

After all she had done for the girl! Sparing her the middle-class horror of American adolescence, such as had befallen her brother's child, Kather­ ine. Ah, Katherine! A slender, bright imp, as Rome

she recalled, with hair was

and a

a

thick tuft of reddish-brown

almost

eyes

in

cobalt

color.

There

girl who undoubtedly would revel in the

Continental climate.

pleasure to see dear little Kather­ avowed so tremendously," enjoying Aunt Alice to the American boys after introduc­ tions in the hotel lobby. "But it's a terrible pity isn't that your word 'loobed' my car is being for it? Franz simply wouldn't hear of its going another day; he is the most dedicated chauffeur.

Anyway, it's nice of you boys to drive us to the country. I want my niece to do everything she desires and to see all things possible before class­ es start. You know, I really believe she'll work at the university here, since.

The three young people, nodding and assenting with ill-re­ strained eagerness, convoyed the garrulous chap­ eron to the diminutive automobile.

"Oh, dear," grunted Alice, bending almost double and back­ ing herself into the rear seat where she was forced to crush a bouffant green-and-blue floral print into her allotted corner.

"You ought to have the drip-dry things I brought from home," suggested Katherine, un­ comfortably wedged as far as possible from the billowing skirt, thinking that, replete with brooch and earrings, her aunt was dressed as for the approaching opening of the opera.

"Oh, I don't expect this excursion to last long!

My dear, what do you think you'll see down there? You tourists' are so amusing about this thing. When you live with it at your doorstep, well, it's nothing, it's simply nothing." She fin­ gered a disarranged side curl before adding, "I thought you all might like a nice Wiener Schnitzel when we get back, and then I can take you up to Grinzing to one of those dear little Heurige places. You know, where the green boughs dangle over the doors to announce the new wine? Well, I thought "And it is

a

ine

herself

-

-

"

.

.

.

"

...

"Hand

war

first passenger

life

the

at

the

me

wheel.

the

map,

In

some

Rick," ordered Holden, silence they proceeded

southeast through rather grey suburbs until Alice that Schonbrunn Palace was out

remembered

this way. She started to describe the collection of golden state carriages there, but Richard in­

terrupted

to

tour and

no

say

they'd been there

coaches

were

to be

NORTHWESTERN

on

a

city

seen.

TRI-QU ARTERLY

"Oh," replied Alice. "Of course, you don't have long and you have to do things the tourist way.

It's too bad. We could have driven to Mayerling today instead, but this child, this adventuresome is determined that

child

"Have

the

at

"

border.

.

.

.

Communists, Mrs. Canfield?" asked Richard, turning his neat little met

ever

you

any

head to peer with intense innocence at the older woman.

Momentarily, she

arrested.

was

Then, "Do I

nodded politely. "I have no idea. Why, I mayor I may not. Vienna is full of them, so's all Europe. We don't fuss know

mean?"

you

He

them here the way you Americans do. Right brimming with 17,000 young ones,

over now

any,

the city is

I hear. I don't

that it matters.

They're going they don't give much trouble that I can see. And if you're expecting anything at the border, well you might see some sleepy sentries or bored boys, that's' all." She took a moist cleansing pad from her handbag, dabbing on nose and forehead, although the group had been en route only a few minutes and the day see

their way, and

...

was

without dust

A

warm

oppressive heat. sky through which the

and hesitant

white

made brief sorties arched

sun

over

unspectacular countryside. Little wonder the Dan­ ube wasn't blue, Katherine thought, if it reflected

only a leaden dullness. She turned from the con­ versation of her companions to watch a peasant load his wooden wagon with dry yellow straw.

Entire families were out working huge bundles into

homemade

placent

oxen.

carts In

the

rumbled

that

villages

after

large flocks of geese waddled and honked passage of the

car

disturbed their

com­

the

along

way

as

the

foraging. Old

sat fat and immobile, like kerchiefed mushrooms, in the stone-surrounded Platz at Hainburg. The quiet fields and dun-colored clusters of human habitation, drab now even in the fullness of summer what must they be like in winter, Katherine wondered, when the

women

grey

.

snow

.

.

swept out of the Arctic

"But I

....

thought it was terrible," insisted Rich­

ard, with as much vehemence as he had yet dis­ played about anything, "the way the Americans fought at the festival, with the Chicago anti­ Commies and the New York pros actually beat­ ing each other in the streets. We should have shown

a

Holden

united front."

coughed, nodding;

his

Adam's

apple

slipped up and down rather fascinatingly as he drawled, with slow-blinking eyes meeting Kath­ mirror, "The program last night at the Rathausplatz was disgusting, we thought.

Did you go?"

erine's

in

the rear-view

"She did," a

grumbled Alice, "thereby missing perfectly delightful organ recital at St. Ste­

phen's.

"

Defensively Katherine exclaimed, "Oh, but thought it rather amazing. After all,

Fall, 1962

it

was

I

the

on

I'(>(>J ing

the free side, and they were all so it, that tremendous

Didn't you feel

=cohesive.

them

sweeping through

all?"

rope," Holden only said, settling it.

"Yes, it was awful where we were," agreed Richard, "with the Austrians sweating and shov­ ing and old women fainting. They'd all just come to watch a curiosity, we thought."

But Katherine, who had been atop the wob­ bly West German press platform with a Radio­ Free-Europe friend of Alice's, could not agree.

Swaying aboard the frail wooden structure in the ocean of youth, she imagined what the Pope felt when he appeared in the Piazza San Pietro. What an evening it had been, against a flag-of-all­ nations backdrop with the World Youth Banner a blue globe surrounded by five petals in five "It was

colors

on

on

their side of the

field of white!

a

Rumanians capered in

as

Czechs swirled in

a

a

And the exuberance,

twirling scarf dance; polka; the Viet­

vast circular

delegation marched in with coolie-hat­

Namese

ted heads lowered and flowering held aloft;

or

grey

first time

cherry branches

husky East German tumblers in baggy

blue sweat suits leapt around the very base the

of

black, yellow, platform. Everywhere brown, white faces, Senegalese and Siamese, Aus­ trian and American, Italian and Iranian, mingling, ...

kissing, sporting, singing, laughing. Hundreds

of

balloons in great grapelike bunches were loosed into the warm air, floating over the old towers

Rathaus, and gigantic sparklers like cork­ screws burned slowly in the hands of the crowd.

On stage the Chinese darted nimbly in a fantastic fire dance, waving serpentine red scarves; and then the speeches, the bands playing, the flags furling "I thought it was rather a spectacle to see," Katherine said aloud. "It's something we ought to see and recognize, I mean."

"Too bad you arrived so recently," smirked Holden. "You'd have seen something, all right."

"Yes, you'd have seen something," parroted of the

..

Richard.

"Well, what? What?" demanded Alice.

"We

mean

the Austrian anti-Communist group.

They fought the festival all the way."

"Oh, they would," snapped Alice, still smarting over her daughter's decision. "They're mainly Catholic, aren't they?"

"I've

"

idea," drawled Holden, "but.

no

He swerved to avoid four geese at the roadside.

"You tell

them, Rick."

"They simply ran free busses down to the Iron Curtain for anyone to see. Every hour, free rides forty miles east, because the barbed wire had been torn down for one kilometre, and they the brought all their young Communists, I mean people through from the East and said, 'See, -

-

there

is

no

Iron

Curtain.'''

Richard

licked

lips, breathing audibly. "So the Austrians

his

drove

31

down anyone who wanted to ricades began again."

see

border.

children," Alice advised. "Coun­ tries must have borders, and what they do with "Well,

she

.

.

" ....

"1 think we're coming to the end of the trail," interrupted Holden in a monotone. "If it's Kitt­ see, this is it. Check the upcoming sign, Rick."

"Kittsee," nodded Richard as the little car scooted around a curve past low, dirty-white dwellings. All the town's geese appeared to be enclosed in a sort of cooperative wallow in one of the settlement.

A corner single railroad a

spur into nowhere ended

on

the far

side of the village. Two other small cars, a Volkswagen and a Renault, had stopped along­

side, with what apparently were Americans hov­ ering nearby, pointing cameras at a sign which announced in red and white lettering, "Achtung!

Staatsgrenze.

"Someone else wants to see, too," whispered

fields

Alice

settled

back

to

become

immobile

when Holden turned off the ignition. "The Depart­ ment of Tourism

obviously is missing a bonanza really ought to be luxury hotels and souvenir shops and observation towers," she chided, raising one speculative eyebrow. She re­ fused to budge, and her niece had to crawl over her rigid legs as Holden opened the door.

The three young people approached the other visitors, and one of them, a blue-jacketed fellow who might have sold insurance in Oklahoma, grinned amiably. "Looking for adventure, aye?

It's dull here, boys, but go on south there to

here. There

They pulled guns on us at Andau just few hours. ago."

He ducked to look into the

Renault, "Didn't they, honey?"

Katherine glanced past the warning sign. On each side of the road six dusty little red and white Austrian flags fluttered at intervals up to cement

a

post marked with

frost-broken

a

zero.

Far

down

and

grass-grown thoroughfare into no-man's-land there arose a yellow wooden barricade, a staunch blockade behind which great black logs were piled. A youth on a bicycle suddenly braked beside the tourists and panted in German that the "Czechy" had shot some British and American persons the day before.

"Oh, surely not shot them!" cried Katherine.

"1

in

32

think he meant held

a

gun

to

them.

Stick

up?" Holden questioned, posturing his hand a cops-and-robbers gesture.

'em

simultaneously,

Holden hoisted

or

...

is it actually

" ....

small slate-covered movie

a

cam­

era.

"Ja, ja!" cried the Austrian boy, vindicated.

"From which they light the fields at night?" whispered Katherine.

"Probably," answered Richard. "A lot still try crossing over, they say."

Aunt Alice's trim head bobbed through a car window. "Whatever is keeping you so long in this sepulchral place? The country is always so deadly dull."

"Damn," muttered Holden, bending his long thin neck to peer at the tripper of his camera.

'It's jammed, 1 think, just when 1 want it most."

"Let's go," said Richard, beginning to move.

"It's quiet, but you can't tell, down by the clump of trees near the fence there might "You drive, then," Holden ordered his friend," while 1 fiddle with this blasted thing." "

....

"Where

Vienna?"

to?

"Oh, we're

not

going yet?" Katherine

whim­

that tower," decided Holden. "I'd close-up, now that we're this far, if this thing gets to working."

"Let's go," called Alice. "I'll be permanently jack-knifed.

Richard drove left along a narrow dirt road leading to the northern edge of the village. "Up to the border sign," urged Holden. "Just this side of the flags."

"Toward

like

a

"

"What's this?" demanded Alice. "What's this?"

She delved

pad.

"Oh,

Andau.

the

almost

eyes,

distant watchtower.

a

pered.

Katherine.

a

their

until

sighted

"

Aunt

soul visible." Richard stared

"Is that a water tank

"No, we still lived in Lausanne then, where in school, but I can tell my daughter was

track like

a

frowning at the uncomprehending child who with the foreigners gazed across quiet

accusingly,

wanted.

"Were you in Vienna after the Hungarian up­ rising, Mrs. Canfield?" Richard asked.

you

"But there isn't

now,

them well!" She flipped her slender hand lightly, seeming to imply that boundaries didn't matter unless they separated her from something .

"Ja, ja!" nodded the boy, pointing toward the

where the bar­

"I'll

her

into

bag for another cleansing

do get out this have

to

stretch

time," begged Katherine. if

I'm

ever

to

function

normally again." Alice crawled out slowly, braced herself on plastic-heeled shoes, slender legs slight­ ly astride in the dust, toes pointed out as though she

were

rated at

ship

about

to

Off to the

right

a

aboard

a

enter

a

sea

hefty peasant woman left her raking to view the startling blue and green apparition. The object of local scrutiny, head lowered as she flicked some foreign ele­ ments

seven.

from

her

shoulders

and

fluffed

out

her

skirt, asked Katherine, "Did you know we're both part Czechoslovakian? 1 expect quite a royal welcome

here!

Long

ago

my

grandmother­

your great-grandmother, of course this very border, for all we know, -

came across on

her way

America, and even had her first baby in Vi­ although they say it was stillborn She raised her head to survey the area and abruptto

"

enna,

....

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

ly stopped speaking. Katherine turned to look at her, waiting to hear further family history. Alice's lips had parted slightly, her head shook slowly from side to side. She was uncommonly silont so long that Katherine asked whether or not she

were

but

quite incredible," the last. "Quite unbelievable."

answered at

it's

aunt

"What is?"

"Why, the way it looks,

as

if

" ....

turned

from

unusual

the

the road before them ended in

running

half

a

up

to

a

yellow

sight

of

gully of muddy perhaps

a

barricade

metre distant. Thick-branched trees lined

peasants worked in small groups, scattered across the surround­ ing grain fields, stacking their wagons. Far what one knew must be the Danube there

loomed in the summer haze

a

castle-like

building

in old Bratislava. A somnolent stillness hummed

in

the

ears

Richard

like

lifted

heat-hungry a

still

watchtower

slatted

wooden

that

gnats.

camera

photograph

to

nearby, a metallic­ roofed wooden cylinder on four high, connected stilts. Curious Holden, giving up on his movie film, began to amble down the road toward the

the

arose

fence.

A

.

sudden

drone

muted

curved into earshot, and Katherine, still puzzled by the soft reverie overspreading her aunt's fea­

tures, mored

empty

now

lane.

A

wagon

glad patrol!"

was

to

lips with one finger, pointed down into the ditch with his rein-holding hand. Protected from view by the wagonload, he warned of the hiding Czechs.

Holden turned back

joke,

"Here

comes

the

ar­

for your

ready him, starting the

told

that

see

each side of the abandoned lane;

across

back, the others watching his search in the

car,

surprisingly quiet,

about

her aunt's somewhat astounded face to

ruts

the

loaded high with straw turned into the old road toward him. The stocky farmer on the front

But how

it looked she did not say.

Katherine

in

silent

seat covered his sunburned

ill.

"No, no,

check." Out he went to wander

"But did they

seat,

her

ard.

"I

car.

arms

on

the top of the front

head almost between Holden and Rich­ what

mean,

if

" ....

"They meant it all right."

"They were waiting there in that ditch for me, just waiting." Holden couldn't get over it. "Wait­ ing.

"Boy, I'd like to send one of those gullible kids from the festival last night, you know? One of those, send him down that lane, unknowing and unknown," Richard nodded, "send him down "

that lane."

"They didn't

a

say

word," Holden brooded.

"Not a bit of warning, not a sign." croaked a weeping voice. "Why they run at us like that? What are they breeding behind that fence?" Aunt Alice huddled in her corner, one earring gone, her cheeks stained

"But why?"

would

with little rivulets of mascara-laden tears. Kath­ erine noticed that

Up ahead Holden stopped, pointing. Behind the closely-boarded barricade there was murky move­ ment. Then through a narrow aperture in the fence, like the lunging bull breaking from black­ ness into a blinding arena, there sped six brown­ uniformed soldiers, sprinting in silence, one of them waving a tommy-gun and two others hold­ ing huge straining hounds as they bore down upon the Americans momentarily immobilized by incredulity. With heads bent and knees pumping, the Czechs rapidly approached the zero marker.

"My God!" gasped Richard, his head wagging jerkily as Holden, now tearing toward the geta­ way vehicle, shouted, "Start the car!" Katherine had to tug at a stupefied aunt who teetered side­ ways into a low ditch before clutching for the door. Within seconds the Simca, dragging weeds and grass from its hastily-slammed doors, found refuge for its four flustered occupants well across

once.

it?" Katherine asked nerv­

mean

ously, leaning her

"I'd say you're Richard service," military at

pale blue hose. older

woman

burrs still stuck to her

some

"It

whined

so lovely there," the dreamily, "it was just like

was

home, like the lane in Wisconsin where Frank

at

used

to

drive

herd

the

and Janie used to

run

when

to

meet

we

were

him

at

young,

milking

"

time.

spoke. Katherine looked away, silent. to say something, to touch Alice's hand, but it was an invasion of privacy, almost, No

one

She wanted

interruption of a confessional, and instead she rolling fields stretching ahead to Vienna, to music and freedom of life as she knew it, wondering about the waiting presence behind her, crouching like an immense intensity an

looked out at the

over

half the

earth.

Waiting.

the Austrian line.

"But wait," panted Katherine, her heart thump­

ing and her limbs quite flabby, "but stop a mo­ They might have only wanted to scare us, they may only be bored boys "I'm going on," said Richard tightly. ment!

"

....

"No,

stop."

Holden's

face

for

the

first

time

held high color, animation glinted in his formerly sleepy eyes. "We're safe this side, let's have a

Fall,

1962

33

were first painted over with a color, either pale pink or a deep, almost brown buff. He painted ten light heads and then ten dark ones. By the time the last dark head was painted, the first light one was ready for features. He breathed heavily, leaning over the bulb, working hard at making his bent and cal­ loused fingers remain steady enough for the deli­ cate work. He painted red hair over the top and around two thirds of the head, red hair ending in two large turned-up curls covering the ears that this puppet didn't have, then side bangs over the round forehead and a straight bob in back. The hair style was pasted down, without fluff or any hairs out of place, like a flapper hair-do. The

heads. The heads flesh

NOBLER in the

MIND

idea

line

a

him

he

so

light bulb and smear it with wall­

eyebrows, kewpie-doll blue

Carolyn

shaping, you can make a puppet. That's what Farley had been doing every night for about three weeks now. He had each puppet head resting in an empty barley soup can. The cans filled both win­ dow sills in the kitchen, the top of the stove back, and the latest ones were lined up in big semi­

College of Liberal Arts, majoring in English. She plans to continue her stud­ ies in graduate school.

the other half of the round oak ta ble

where he worked.

Farley worked carefully over

hundred watt bulb, building up a large nose with an exaggerated crook, and then he added a

one

cauliflower ear. That head was formed on the

last

light bulb,

so

when it

he

finished, gath­ pile, put them

was

is

nois,

Summers she

has had

phony

the table. Farley stood looking shadows, and when they stopped growing and shrinking, he gave the bulb another quick tap so the chain rattled more, and the shadows grew even longer before they grew

long

onto

elastic

shorter.

The paints were lined up on the crusty linoleum counter

top.

Farley transferred several bottles

of the tempera to the table and got the brushes out of the silverware drawer. He took all the heads

from

the

window

enough to paint now rows

34

-

sills

-

they

were

dry

and placed them in straight

in front of the half-circle ranks of younger

a

Park, Colorado. At Nort�­ western man

she

is

Co-Chair­

of the Committee

Speakers

the

curled-up

orchestra at Estes

season's Symposium.

shadows of the puppet heads on the round table stretched out long onto the floor, then short, then

eyes,

diversity of jobs, including playing the Rute in a sym­

sink, washed the left-over paste down the drain, and put the coffee can on top of the cupboard.

It was then about midnight. It was always about that time when the best part of the eve­ ning finally started. His head had grazed the lone light bulb over the sink when he put the paste can up, and the light was swinging back and forth, the metal chain clanking against the bulb. The under the

at

tur­

the

in

senior

a

ered the newspaper strips into one

back

narrow

Warren, Illi­

comes

on

a

who

Burrows,

from

paper paste and then wrap strips of newspaper around it and keep wrapping and pasting and

circles

painted

quoise headband on the forehead, connecting the bangs with the side hair. He added black hair­

By Carolyn Burrows

If you take

struck

for the

on

coming

and curled-down

eyelashes,

a

beauty mark,

and

faint rouge. She only needed a mouth. Far­ didn't paint the mouth next, that would come

some

ley

later. Instead he rinsed the small

eyebrow brush

in

and dipped it the bottle of green and then quickly in the brown. Starting up near the eye without the beauty spot he painted a brown-green scar, jagged and uneven, running through the flushed cheek down across the delicately built-up chin and stopping at last at the metal threads of the bulb. He rinsed the brush again, dipped it into the black, and painted black stitch marks of unremoved stitches crossing the scar crookedly, spread now close now far. He put some flecks of bright red between a few of the narrow stitches, then he held the bulb by the base at arm's length

and looked at it. The suture thread needed a knot at

the end.

When

that

was

painted in, he put

the now hideous flapper girl, still without a mouth. back in the soup can.

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

The rest of the heads

done with the

were

same

tireless care and precision. One had no nose,

only grey-red shape of color between the eyes. One dark-flesh puppet had no hair at ali, and snake a

tattoos snarled

the baldness. Another had

on

one

deep brown with a fleck of white attempting be a twinkle and the other eye larger, pale

eye to

blue with crooked red lines in the white around

the

Some

blue.

of

the

heads

been

had

shaped

two's, marching

walking

or

just standing in

or

couples, they weren't in soup cans now but resting in wire frames, the kind you use for dying Easter eggs, with the end of the wire jabbed into a thick piece of dry sponge, the foundation for each head stand

to

All

on.

of

these

had

heads

rearranged a few of the heads on the table, putting an old woman with one eye next to a man with

eyes at all. That left

no

an

old

man

with large moles and warts, bulbous noses, knots

misshapen head and

on foreheads; one had a huge goiter almost as large as the head itself. The last head of the twenty was a light one, with proportioned sym­

tache. He looked at the two left-overs

metrical features. It became the head of

girl,

probably high

smart

green

blonde hair.

school

hair-bow She

was

pretty.

young

Farley

age.

the

in

a

side

put of

wave

Then

he

a

her

covered

mouths.

He

young girl with

a

a

with

a

mous­

a

moment,

then nodded his head

slightly and placed the two dose together, looking at each other at the be­ ginning of one of the columns of people.

He swallowed the last inch of beer and walked

back

into the

He

the

put

kitchen where bottle

empty

the puppets were. the sink and

under

her face and neck with red and

purple pimples, pimples on her nose and even her ear lobes, only

washed his hands hard with Lava soap. His face smiled, his pink-grey lips not parting but turning

making the wrinkles around them turn up too, sparkle, not just attempt as the

clear skin where the mouth would go. All twenty were still without mouths.

up,

heads

and his eyes did

Farley got up from the table and stretched, giving the light bulb another tap. He rolled down the dirty flannel shirt sleeves over his hairy arms and opened and closed the bent fingers with paint in the cracks of the hard places and under the

puppet

broken

nails.

He

seemed to have

rubbed

joyed their roughness,

the

much

grown

which

whiskers since

and left

supper,

some

wet

en­

paint

from his were

hand among them. A few grey hairs stuck in the sweat on his forehead. As he

brushed them back he left paint there too.

The refrigerator

was

years old

or

it would also

have been covered with canned puppet heads, but the round rumbling electric unit on the top ruined its storage

the handle of

possibilities. He pulled

the roll latch and took

a

bottle of beer from the

top shelf. He opened it and hit the waste basket with the cap. Farley took big swallows of the beer right from the bottle, some

across

of

the

room

foaming through his whiskers, while he into the large room of his apartment.

The rug was mostly threads of old red flowers, not nap. All the pieces of furniture were at the edge of the rug, not treading upon it but resting on the wide, dark-stained floor boards, except for

eyebrow brush was rinsed again and again. He poured again, carefully a mason jar lid half full of the red, then added some white, mixing and adding red or white until the color was a deep rich red-pink, not a barn door red or a toilet paper pink. He tested the color on the newspaper covering the oilcloth.

It was right.

Farley flexed his fingers and picked up the flapper girl. He rested the little finger of his brush hand on the table for steadiness and began painting the mouth. He painted all the puppet heads with exactly the same mouth until all twen­ ty people were complete, lined up in front of him, waiting to be paired. All twenty people, mis­ shapen, scarred, deformed, freakish, staring at him, some with only one eye, some without any, eyes did.

The

and

but all cate

facing him with the same mouths

it

low table in the center of the rug and of the Farley had made it from a door, a big wide

room.

modern door, parana

pine.

flat without grooves, of fine-grained He had gotten the door and the

*

*

walked

a

deli­

-

smiling happy mouths.

It

was

almost

*

before

noon

Jesse

Farley got

to work the next

day. Since he had started mak­ the he'd been staying up later and ing puppets later so he hardly ever got to work before elev­ en

or

twelve.

Nobody

cared.

If

Farley

didn't

show up at his candy stand in the elevated sta­ tion, about the only person who even noticed Lillian Hawkes.

She sat in the ticket office

modern black iron legs at a lumber yard after a fire sale. After the legs were bolted on and a few

was

coats of shellac

and day. separated but didn't talk much they any­ Farley always, way because if a candy customer didn't interrupt them, Lillian's bell, which rang every time a green transfer popped out of the metal cage, did.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Farley. I'd say good mornin', but already it ain't mornin' no more.

You know that, Jesse? Hell, it's damn near and you're just startin' work?" one o'clock,

it made

applied, large sturdy same time, its too bold shape and size and angular legs overpowered the frayed sagging furniture and made the whole room ludi­

table

a

and at the

crous.

Farley

hadn't made the table to

interior of his apartment. The door one thing. On it, all the finished

improve the was

for

heads

just were

placed; there they remained. Paired off in rows of

Fall, 1962

opposite all

the

The

counter

that

turnstiles

Farley

stood

behind

Lillian

35

"That's right, Lillian. I been workin' late every

"No, I

was

sign painter, a good one too. You

a

night at home. Later and later. And anyhow, the candy business ain't no good in the morning

know the murals in the Marboro? And the gold

anyway."

"Well, I

Well, I painted 'em. Me and Ernie used to always paint on the same rigging. Ernie would never let my work be, he always had to touch up something.

I wouldn't of minded, but he never just touched it up, he usually blotched it up. I put up with a lot, a helluva lot. But one day I got really

but

know,

let

oughta

ya

people

at

least get acquainted to the fact that you're here."

"If

I'm

If

here.

I'm

I'm

not,

difference to

no

not.

nobody hardly.

Authority be gonna take

the

would

else

Why

I'm

here,

It don't make

-

letters

Neeseman's before

on

they got the neon?

away my contract? Huh?'"

mad, and I sorta hit him. So he gave

"Hell, Jesse. They ain't gonna take away your They may close this station, but they ain't gonna just screw you outta here. No, they'll screw us all, all together." The bell clanked twice for two boys in leather jackets. Farley was busy filling up the spaces in the sloping counter with fresh candy bars and gum from the boxes

and I went off the scaffold onto the brick pave­ ment two stories below."

contract.

"Oh, God!" The bell joined in the exclamation.

"Why weren't you killed?"

"I damn -

that's

of the

"Jesse, I worry 'bout you stayin' out so late every night. You're too old already to be trampin'

too

around

that

Emma

if

Why,

way.

driver

to that,

saw

If she was, I wouldn't be

doin' it, and I've told you before, I don't go out, I stay home. I work."

"Okay,

so

work- but

you

"I told you that before too

know,

to

what

earth

on

do

do?"

you

have

you

to

that if you want

-

and

over

come

it.

see

I

can't tell you about it, you have to see it."

"I

can't

Lobo

would

come

Jesse,

over,

strike

dead

me

know

you

and

-

you

that.

too.

Or

else bust you up so bad you couldn't work at all."

"I been busted up before. Do you know work here? Cause I

get

around

got

why

I

stiff knee and I can't

a

scaffolds

on

no

But

more.

do

you

know how I got that stiff knee?"

"No," said Lillian. The bell rang three

more

times.

and

Hershey bars with am­ small boy with metal­ a thickly running nose

his

dime

how much is

"Mister,

A

ods? Is it ten cents?" rimmed

glasses

stretched

to

hold

the

to

up

counter.

"Hershey'S with almonds cost twelve cents," said Farley, not accepting the dime.

"Ya

got any with peanuts

Mister?

I

only got

a

"Yah,

I

got

left.

instead

They

have it for

can

of

amods,

dime." don't

peanuts nomore, but

much with and you

one

a

I

got

make one

'em

here,

dime."

dime, and I like peanuts better than am ods anyhow."

Farley looked hard into that small face, noting the eyes and the freckles as well as the glasses and dripping nose. As soon as the little boy was gone, Lillian, enjoying this rare openness, "Thanks, thanks

returned "How'd Ain't it

36

to

the

ya

a

lot. I

only got

a

your

My head got bashed open

was.

got this

stand

this

over

it

And

scar.

smashed

pieces. By the time I got out job was taken, and my knee

hospital my anyhow. Jobs

"J esse,

were

of

then

scarce

Emma's

old

so

I

man's."

you're lucky to even be alive."

what Emma always told me. Now dead, and I'm about to lose the stand, and I wonder sometimes. There just ain't a damn thing dependable no more except the faces."

knee,

always been like that?"

she's

-

Lillian

anyhow,

Jesse?

missed

the

last

words

the

as

bell

clanged again. A short girl in a dark mouton coat much too large picked up the transfer. Her hair was covered by a maroon knit cap which fitted it almost made her eyes slant. She so tightly had lively blue eyes, long black lashes, and a clear pink complexion, except for her left cheek.

A

red-purple

birthmark

covered

almost

that

cheek, and extended gnarled tentacles up to her temple, down to her chin like a giant scorpion.

The

turned

and stepped up to her mouth turned up in Farley's candy counter; a quiet, sincere smile, an undaunted smile. Far­ woman

young

ley's puppet-making smile flashed across his face, pulling his mouth and eye-wrinkles upward.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Farley. How's the candy business today? You haven't sold all of my brand of licorice, have you?"

"Dorothy! Hello! Hello there, how are you?

I missed you yesterday. Yes sir, I missed my best licorice customer,

fresh carton

you

just

that

eat

Yes, just

it,

whole

a

new

for you. But

keep that fine smile, when black

awful

I don't eat

"Oh,

and I have

for you.

tell me, how do you

Mr.

stuff

Farley.

all

the

time?"

It's not for me.

I take it for the children at the hospital."

"You

at a hospital, Dorothy? I didn't thought you was in school."

work

know that. I

"No, I help out in the physical therapy depart­ hospital. We work mostly with crip­

ment at the

pled children, and I like to reward their progress with "Is

conversation.

hurt

I

"That's

"Emma ain't alive, Lillian. That crazy drunk­ 'en

how

stiff

took

alive,

was

would she think?"

near

my knee cap all to

stored underneath and behind him.

what

shove

a

licorice. that

It's

not

too

right?

You

help cripples,

sweet,

you

know."

Dorothy?

That's, why that's just a damn fine thing. I knew you were

a

fine,

a

nice

girl, I could tell by your

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

smile, but I didn't know you was doing such a fine thing too." They smiled at each other with

quiet, closed mouths, then Farley reached under the counter, got out the box of licorice, and gave it to Dorothy. "Here, you take this you take it -

all.

"

so very "Oh, thank you. Oh thank you so I really appreciate this. much, Mr. Farley. I We appreciate it."

"You run along now and help those kids."

Farley watched the girl push through the dirty doors and run up the dingy cement steps to the wooden platform. She was gone quickly, but the moments Farley had spent looking at her smile, not at her birth mark, were indelible. The first time she had bought licorice, about a month ago, Farley had been hypnotized by that smile. He tried constantly to recall it, to keep remembering that one thing, dependable not messy, but over­ coming ugliness, turning the grotesque into beauty.

He had known he had to preserve it, but drawing -

-

-

it was not enough, and he was not an artist. Then walk past a department store window displaying hand-puppets had given him an idea. He had searched through all the puppets, looking for a Dorothy puppet. There were none. Their smiles weren't right, either toothy or clownish; and of course, none of them had birth marks, only clear enameled skin. He had thought then that the mark a

the

was

the

reason

than other smiles. that hideous

smile

The

bug shape

was

so

much

better

smile's overpowering of made it extra. The clerk

had finally showed him a puppet book. Since then,

Farley had made Dorothy after Dorothy until she just right. But Dorothy was alone. She soon had a boyfriend with an even larger red-purple mark. A whole community had followed, a com­ munity still growing, still smiling, and kept har­ monious yet changing by the Mayor, Jesse Farley.

Lillian brought Farley back from thoughts of his populated table with the ranks of paired was

smiles.

"Damn,

but she's

seen a more

ugly, Jesse. Have

you

ever

awful mark?"

"Yes, Lillian every time I fine girl, you hear- We need -

shave.

She's

a

girls like

more

"But she's so lonely!"

"We need

more

girls like her.

she

No,

isn't

lonely. Not any more. Because I'm working on it."

"What'd you

say? Can't

hear

this damn

over

"

"Nothing, Lillian. Not a damn thing." *

*

*

-

men

with Borsalinos. Fine clear faces and firm

straight bodies always kept their eyes lowered when they bought candy, and they seldom bought twelve cent candy bars. The students who faced Farley behind his counter were in such a continual hurry they tossed change and ran on at once.

This girl, this lovely-faced young woman, was smiling, was actually looking at him and smiling.

She even spoke. do you have any butterscotch tof­ "Hello, do fee? I've been looking all over for this special kind that's made in England. It's wrapped in sil­ ver paper, and I can't find any, anywhere. You have such an assortment, I thought maybe you would carry it. Do you?"

"No. I don't have fancy stuff." Farley leaned -

forward scar

over

stood out

the on

counter

and

frowned

so

the

the folds of his forehead.

"Oh, oh shoot, I guess they don't make it any Well, I'll take six mint patties anyway."

more.

girl smiled again as she handed him the change, and then walked slowly up the smelly cement stairway to get on the northbound train.

He was angry, at her for being Dorothy yet not being Dorothy, angry that she dared to look at him, and that she could possess that smile when The

she didn't deserve to, when she didn't understand

several Farley made more puppets that night of Dorothy with a variety of young distorted -

to exist with her

on

his door. Beads of sweat

filled the hollows of the long, curved forehead and

Fall,

1962

right temple,

ley watched the old woman who was trying to get through the turnstile with two shopping bags. She was a broken woman. Grey hair the color of the dirty door frames was stuffed under a coarse hair net, and the elastic holding it in place looked painful on her forehead. Her mouth was set stiffly over false teeth, not turning up. He wondered if it deserved to. He imagined pleasant it ever had looks were always pulled off her face by rheuma­ -

more

men

ing around the empty beer bottle on the table.

Farley went to bed tired after the night's work, but when he stood above his fiat, neat community he knew the fatigue was of the same fine kind that he had felt when he painted their bedroom just the blue that Emma had wanted.

His first customer late the next morning was another girl. She wasn't Dorothy, but she was al­ most a Dorothy without the birth mark. The same blue eyes always in motion, long eyelashes, dark brown hair, soft fair skin, even the same shape of face, a narrow chin and high cheek bones made her almost a sister. Her coat fitted, a deep green with a velvet collar, and her hat was white fur, not maroon. Farley looked at the girl and squinted. He could not believe that she had that same smile, that she was looking at him, Jesse Farley, with that same smile. The fur-hatted women never smiled at Farley, neither did the

what it meant at all. Lillian's bell rang, and Far­

her."

bell.

return the smiles of the new group of people stand­

and he

scar

was

on

happy

his to

tism

or

bills

due

or

shirts

to

be

ironed

or

a

drinking husband.

But that

girl, she had no right. The bell rang, climbed the stairs, and Far-

another passenger

37

signaled on, they jumped head slowly, and the scar ahead. out he stood further as realized what was going to happen. That poor girl, the sweet innocent thing, the horror of what would no doubt happen unless. He brought his grimy to her, unless fist down on the counter, shaking rolls of Life­ savers from their precarious positions. Yes, he had seen her in time. He could save her, just as he had saved Dorothy and all the rest. He could do it tonight.

ley's thoughts

were

He shook his

...

*

*

*

Lillian usually left work at seven, but an ab­ normal rush kept her about twenty minutes extra

Farley had his candy all locked underneath the counter or covered by the dark roll-top. He and Lillian walked out of the station and down the street together. Lobo was waiting for Lillian in his red Mercury under the tracks. As she said good by to Farley and told him for God's sake to go to bed early for a change, the girl in the green coat and fur hat came out of the station doors. Lillian saw Farley stare at she couldn't leave until

so

heavy feet. The shadows began to grow and shrink, Farley's shadow on the table mixed with those of the blank faces, long faces then short old then young. The old woman with the cutting her forehead came back some­

faces,

hair-net

how, and her face faced his. He knew what he could do

He rinsed the brush and filled it

now.

with grey to age, not to make grotesque. He would add years ahead of time and save the des­ truction of that smile that would have to be, as -

he had saved Dorothy's smile from by loneliness and self-ridicule.

disintegration

Wrinkles

were painted across the firm brow, cheeks, in the smile lines, crows feet at the eyes and around the mouth space, sagging

the

on

skin on the neck and half-circle hollows under the eyes. A touch of the grey took the twinkle from

blue eyes, made the weathered the brown curls. the

nostrils

larger,

and

Farley's face let go as he mixed the paint for the aged girl's mouth. The paint was perhaps half a

shade redder than

usual, but when the mouth

filled the empty, unwrinkled part of the face, it an upturned one. was the same mouth exactly -

the

girl and then

and follow her

turn

Lobo

as

drove off.

Farley walked faster until he was right behind her. Then he passed on the street side and turned

enough to get a quick but close look at her face, the small nose, short upper

lip and pointed chin.

past her and was almost running when he reached the old apartment building. Not

He walked

supper,

he

sat

down

at

the

round

table and began painting. All the dry heads on the window sills were painted the light flesh color, he would have plenty to work with,

so

several

mistakes

until

just

enough for

right face

the

was

painted.

The first two tries he didn't succeed. The third blank head had the small

After he covered

nose.

the top and sides with dark brown curls and care­ fully mixed the blue for the eyes and almost caught their vitality on the paper-covered bulb, he knew this

her.

save

would be the

Brown

faint blush same

high

beautiful

This

one.

one

would

eyebrows, black eyelashes, the on

the cheeks

and she

was

girl- Dorothy without the

the ma­

genta insect.

He rinsed the small brushes and blew lightly on the

half-finished

head

before

he

went

on.

The

mouth would, of course, come last, but much was to be done before that mouth could be worn hon­

estly. He dipped the smallest brush in the brown and the green, ready to begin scarring and dis­ torting. But as he held the brush over the smooth forehead and looked at the girl in his hand, he could not touch the brush's ugly colors to that lovely face. He couldn't maim. But she had to be saved!

The light bulb started to swing slightly as one

38

pulled down an alley by rough hands, raped, beaten, slashed, and murdered. Farley didn't hear her screams. He thought he had succeeded. was

on

for

stopping

Three blocks away, at the instant the light bulb to life, the girl wearing the white fur hat

came

overhead

entered

the

kitchen

above

some­

with

*

*

*

When he got to work in the morning, Lillian, who was

talking in

a

different voice with less

edge

sadness and with eyes more resigned than usual, barely had time to tell him of the and

more

brutal

murder

pretty

girl's

came.

The two uniformed

before

men

the

police

told him he

was

going to be questioned and probably held for twenty-four hours. Their eyes reflected their con­ clusions, but Farley didn't notice. He stared at his candy, muttering, "It does work. I was just too late, too late, too late. I tried. God, I tried. I tried.

"

Lillian

came

out of her cage and locked up the

candy which he had been unlocking. Two boxes of silver-wrapped butterscotch fell to the cement, but she didn't notice. Farley asked the taller policeman for some paper and began writing a note. He left the note and his apartment key with Lillian, who promised again and again to make sure

it reached

Dorothy:

Dorothy, Take this

key and go to my apartment 1128 Mac­ B and get all the people I have made. I made them all. They are for your crippled kids. You may think they are all wrong for kids.

I did for awhile but they are not. No, they are right exactly. The kids will know and you too I think. I will make more when I get back if I do.

Keep the smile.

Yours, J esse Farley Donald

number

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

Mark

Reinsberg is a native Chicagoan who received his schooling in Chicago and graduated from the Uni­ versity of Chicago (Ph.B.) in 1947. In 1949 he received an M.A. from Colorado College, and, as a Fulbright fellow, spent the following year at the University of Amsterdam. He has taught in Chicago in various city divisions of the Universities of Illinois and Chicago, and has served

College year

on

the administrative staffs of Roosevelt

and of WFMT. He

came

Staff Associate at the

as

to

Northwestern last

Transportation

Center.

NOTES ON MOBILITY

By Mark Reinsberg We

probably unaware of many important placed upon our freedom, like fish unable to comprehend the glass walls of an aquar­ ium. Knowing no other medium, we may think. that some of the imposed restraints are inherent limitations. In this respect we are all prisoners to a varying degree. I do not, however, think any­ are

restrictions

one

would consider it normal for

a

person

seek less

or

willingly

population suffer

to

freedom,

or

a

to

of course, that

a would conceivable, rather be jailed, literally, than endure some harsh

condition

in

episode in

a

the outside

world.

I

man

remember

an

Chaplin film of the mid-thirties which

had the Depression as

the

to

street.

As

the

truck

moves

on,

Charlie

jumps to his feet, waving the red flag to attract the driver's attention. Behind Charlie, simulta­ neously, a mob of hungry workers rounds a cor­ in a protest march. The next instant Charlie swept forward by the crowd, its supposed leader waving a Bolshevik emblem, as police ner

is

to quell the riot.

Again and again, over the

arrive

imprisonment.

It is

employed, has fallen off a truck delivering ex­ plosives. The vehicle's red warning flag also drops

a

background. Charlie, un-

called

this

swift

comic

years,

moment

I

with

have

re­

undimin­

ished

admiration, paying, unfortunately, no at­ the next episode in the film. It is a prison scene which suddenly seems very signifi­ cant, now that I stub my toe on its obtruding allegory.

After spending some time in jail Charlie per­ tention to

forms

curious act of courage. He prevents the

a

dangerous criminals. Abruptly reversed. A grateful warden showers favors on the prisoner. We see him next as a privileged, trusted inmate, in a private,

escape

his

of

some

fortunes

unlocked

cell

are

with

all

the

doilied

comforts

of

home. He eats the finest foods, smokes

expensive cigars, enjoys the companionship of prison guards, and all manner of special indulgences.

Fall, 1962

39

He is at the peak of contentment when the warden arrives tude.

make

to

ultimate

the

obtained

He has

a

gesture of grati­ pardon for Charlie. It

has been many years since I watched this scene, and the other details are blurred. But I recall now

how

man

seeks

and

beguilingly decline

to

the

frantically the little honor an eviction -

notice plunging him back into the cold competi­ tive world.

early as 1926. That was the peak passenger year for urban mass transit in the United States. There­ after

passengers, and no one has ever doubted that automobile ownership was the cause. It is possible, had the crash not occurred when it did,

lost

that the

or

Bromfield

might find a million farm boys in the past century who saw the city, all in all, as a place of liberation from plow­ slavery. It seems simple-minded to say it, but what attracted people to cities in the first place was the relative advantage of urban over rural life. Creature comforts, before the era of elec­ tricity and indoor plumbing, may not have weighed very heavily in the city's favor, but people found greater variety in whatever there was. Today we would use the phrase, wider range consumer

we

choice.

In

countless ways, the alternatives offered by city seemed superior. For example, a farm community has only one basic form of employ­ ment, a small town has very few, a city has the

We would find this choice in almost

many.

other

any

comparison of resources, medical, cultural

educational. From this wider range of alterna­ possibility, at least, of greater

or

tives flowed the

personal freedom.

Nevertheless, when the

there

advantages

was

probably

of urban life

no

were

period

not par­

tially offset, in the feelings of many city dwell­ ers, by severe disadvantages. Some chafed at the rented apartment as a way of life. Many resented the dirt and noise and congestion. All, or almost all, recoiled from the incidence of crime.

We

do

not

know

how

many

felt

a

sense

of

aesthetic deprivation or mourned the lost contact with nature.

But in

childhood, on Sundays, the grown-ups would pack picnic baskets and desperately "escape to the country." It seems to me apparent that the stronger the pastoral yearn­ ings of a city people, the more vividly they must feel themselves imprisoned. One best-selling book my

I recall from the thirties

and in

Independence.

those years

we

was

entitled Five Acres

From the trend of see

that

its

population popularity was

largely sentimental. There was no mass exodus from the city in the Depression because the city still offered demonstrable advantages, though it was then possible for people with high incomes to carry most of those advantages with them to the

suburbs.

The actions of the American middle class since

might have

movement

3.

The advent of

I suppose that for every Thoreau

of

great suburban

flowered during Hoover's administration.

2

who returned to the land

(except for the war years) transit steadily

Europe five

in

gunpowder

cen­

turies ago caused a revolution in city planning.

Medieval walled cities became untenable, mili­

tarily. New political, and often new economic, realities shaped municipal life. The ramparts which had not been blasted by siege cannon were eventually torn down voluntarily by the inhab­ itants to make room for warehouses, boulevards and residential plots. Thus emerged the unwalled city, free to grow in size beyond comprehensible limits, and to suffer problems of like magnitude.

4.

Freedom. Consumer choice. Mobility. Rebellion.

Flight. We are in the habit of assigning separate distinct meanings to these words. When grouped together they appear, to me at least, and

as

facets of

There

a

are

common

very

concept.

ancient

and

honorable

even

traditions of flight which we share with Plato's Greece and with a great many other nations of the modern and classical world. I do not mean discuss the

refugee, immigrant or displaced person as though these were new phenomena.

I continue to be disturbed by Socrates' example.

I do believe, however, that a country such as the United States, which has been nourished so uniquely, so repeatedly, and so recently by fugi­ tive populations, must have developed a special attitude towards physical mobility. I think we would be justified in calling it a value. If we ac­ cept mobility as a value we get ra better under­ standing of something in the American character which seemed unstable and irresponsible. We see to

it not

as

an

it fullest

to

The

earlier

World,

such

come

as

of freedom

excess

but

as

a

settlement

in

the

means

exercise.

forms

of

New

the chartered company, have be­ remote to our experience, and as ir­ as

relevant, as the colonial efforts of ancient Greek city-states, but we are still very close to tra­ ditions of our own proper origin. A century after the Civil War we still "follow the drinking gourd."

It is deeply satisfying to see the Underground Railroad This our

is

transformed

something

into

the

deeply

Freedom

embedded

national consciousness. It

was

less

Ride.

now

in

securely

rooted when Article Four of the Constitution was

composed, tween

with its

movement

implacable contradiction and

fixity.

The

be­

Thirteenth

War

Amendment edited out the contradiction but only

many of its

theoretically did it widen the range of alterna­

II say that city life has now lost advantages. If you look for the subtle indicators you find the scales beginning to tip as

World

40

tives for ex-slaves.

After the Reconstruction its

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

leverage was lost. All that the Thirteenth really

France

decided in the South

States.

The Negro

was

free to

was

the issue of

mobility.

trip over was an irrevocable act. The Cuban refugee is a new experience for this country. the

get out.

5.

The automobile is for

an

a new

with

creature who has

authority for

to draw up

a

come

to successful terms

first time in

the

These

generations.

-

7.

instant-readiness weapon

I sometimes wish the automobile

distrustful of

society. a value on mobility who have People place who its see its curtailment experienced benefits, as a destructive act impairing pursuit of happi­ ness if not life and liberty. The Mobile Man is men

(c.f., White Russians) than in the United great mass of our immigrants,

For the

a

thousand

(if Mobile Man were bill of particulars) would include: terms

choice of residential environment with stead­

ily diminishing regard to place of employment; personal behavior supported by outside al­ ternatives with which to resist neighborhood so­ -

cial pressures;

not such

were

loud and

smelly, dirty machine, voracious, lethal, so quickly decaying, cannibalized without decent burial, polluting the city air with its in­ a

so

cinerated remains. For the car has led the Amer­ ican people in

a

subtle rebellion against a subtle one would rather hold aloft a

and

enslavement, more dignified symbol of liberation.

Seeing the automobile in this light, I begin to wonder why we waste so much energy each on

year

the floor of the Senate

the

flagellating

Deep South. Looking at the entrenched bigotry of a Mississippi local election board, I ask myself whether a Negro's political salvation might not

explosively widened choice of goods, serv­ ices, entertainment, recreation; improved ability to maintain friendly inter­ course and kin relationships at greater physical distances; improved ability to insulate one's self by distance from undesired relationships; freer choice of religious affiliation or non­

come faster through a driver's license than through abolition of the literacy test.

A moment's reflection should provide anyone

affiliation;

franchise

-

-

-

-

wider

selection

of

with

to

regard comparable needs; schools, advantages of anonymity through movement ouside familiar haunts when one's mood, appear­ ance or purpose is better promoted by an im­ personal role; range medical

-

care

and

-

-

without

movement

commitment

as

to

final

destination.

Such

are

the

believe to be

petitive

blessings

of

mobility,

which

essential condition of the

an

I

com­

economy.

6.

The refugee is

man

making use of his ultimate

with

a

list of modern nations whose citizens

en­

joy equal voting privileges that are worthless.

In Europe, especially since World War II, we have

hundreds of thousands of people risk to leave countries where the voting

seen

their lives

universal.

was

a view of society in ownership of an automobile represents a more basic political weapon than the right to vote. The mayor of any large U.S. city would understand this. Watching his population and in­ dustries move to the suburbs and unincorporated areas, the astute political leader must feel in his viscera that some primal form of self-determina­ tion is taking place. Choices are being made

One

can

indeed entertain

which

from a set of alternatives he cannot structure into the yes or no of a ballot, and he is losing the election to a political unknown, the internal com­

bustion engine.

The

middle class has finally

come

to

believe

weapon short of physical opposition. The course of action is anything but cowardly. It is arduous

that political action can no longer significantly im­

and

prove

hazardous, both in its doing and in its con­ sequences. Politically, it is a sterile gesture. The society is rendered more tranquil and often more secure through the departure of malcontents; the objectionable institutions are more easily perpet­ uated. Economically, it can be disastrous at once for the refugee. And if the State should suffer in the long run through loss of a creative segment of the population (as Spain was intellectually impoverished by the flight of the Jews during the Inquisition) that is small consolation to the man attempting to rebuild his life in a foreign land.

There

yet another class of refugees, the hopes to return, perhaps as part of a liberating army, perhaps in a general amnesty.

This man does not make a new start, he does not naturalize.

Fan, 1962

The type is better understood in

central

city's environment. It is

con­

increase the aesthetic appeal of by means of elections. So the middle class is getting out. of violence rental

nor

housing

Before the Berlin

wall, journalists used to de­ refugees as people who

scribe the East German

"voting with their feet." I find that expres­ apt. If there is any freedom more important than the voting franchise, it is that historic remedy for conditions beyond immediate repair by secret ballot: namely, a person's God­ given right to get out. were

sion profoundly

is

exile who

the

fident now that it can neither reduce the incidence

What truer

measure

of

than the

restraints

a

be

the movement

of

Without freedom a

its of

a

despotism

can

there

government places

on

citizens? movement

any

society is

jail.

41

POEMS by EMILY

(SINGER) I(APLAN

Emily (Singer) Kaplan was born in Lincoln, NebrllSka. She was educated in the Chicago Public Schools and at Northwestern (L.A. '41), and now lives in Evanston with her husband and two children.

She recalls that when she was in college, she was II contributor to Neeley Orme', The Student Workshop.

Piano and Cat My child mother And her cat Mozart

Practiced Beaux Arts With one another.

On her word The cat lay under A

Cat-birth

piano chord overhung thunder,

And

Not too much

grieving

For a lost kitten

Or the sad written Work of bereaving.

In the

same

I had

no

a

cat fit to be tied

caring any more, hideous, to hide the suffering from our eyes that focused and

saw

on

birth

it for what it was, for what it was worth.

While in the counteract of pain by toeing

turned and clawed where she had been put in

office

to

cat

Doing caterpillar scales on

saw

not

the sides of the box she seemed knowing;

Under the piano; sat

And read

We

pedal-raised

Lap Poe's tales: ingenious affix To art unpraised.

birth, not caring if seen.

Should have been a snake for the way she twisted, have laid her eggs painlessly, not hoisted herself up in agony and then let out small cats. in muteness. without shout.

An

Belief I have

seen

a

family across the way

Set up several pumpkins for display.

Affections was the theme and they began To organize from smallest to the man.

Ponderous the father pumpkin stood.

Last of all a baby in the wood.

Laughing at the brood mare And her miseries to compare With human, or the male bee Who has his

one rare

Moment in the air:

All had read favorably the text And learned their graduation from the next.

A human child stepped aside to see What recommended faith in trinity.

His father had in carving with

To Maeterlinck

a

knife

Sharpened up the features of his wife, Divested shell of all the natural grace It might have still possessed without a face.

Changing it: changed the model as well.

His wife began accountably to tell.

No sooner said than put up in the air To ride a broomstick. Feathers were her hair.

Beans her pretty eyes and when they went Something else more proven to ornament.

As say the silk of corn to stroke her ear And make a false impairment. She could hear.

And rise above the fact she had no reason

It's bitter of her to delight In his brief

dispensing flight

When he For his sins

Disintegration wins, And to find just The sad outcome of lust.

Still the

venom

stings

And closer

brings Parallels: replacements Mere restatements.

A

century weighs primacy of days, Febrile mounting Dying counting.

The

For raising pumpkins up until the season.

42

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

From

a

News Item

This man who had a twin-headed son And said, 'I've always wanted Certainly made the best of it.

a

son,'

What a freak split

That trunked them into one.

Though he knew in half an egg There usually isn't just a leg Or Siamese nose

The Movies

For mirror pose, He still an answer wouldn't beg.

they used to make when we were young. Now they're all too realized, lose the suspense What wonderful movies

that held

over

He thought his son was foremost fair In symmetry of equal share With features of unusual grace Reproduced on double face

from week to week.

Before, under Tarzan's spell we

Crowned with beautiful human hair.

waited till a chapter fell

and saw each character renew

only when the film was due.

We didn't know if vineyard held the heroine as plot developed: if swinging from the grasp of ape she managed paramount escape.

We didn't know how much the

vineyard

held until the ape moved forward: Imagined several frames ahead because cut off we went to bed.

Classroom

VVedge

Forty pairs of eyes regard from equidistant points and rooted to the floor in seats my

aspect, while my part's to see

theirs, the vantage

one.

Am I forty pairs' reward?

Saturday at two o'clock lined up in the midst of block; held our sister's little hand we

The return is multifarious glance that makes me fail an only son net

casually by parents done;

to make her TERROR understand.

I

Introduced her to a man

Unraised by podium still I stand and face them all, alone; deliver the text, a century's store.

who leaped beyond an ordinary span.

The trees have not a forest withstood.

All the same in Hollywood.

see

I was

many,

a

they see one.

student once, I say,

but they see me and they are more.

I Pulled No Strings I played

Edgar Bergen to my son

brain to the words while he

in the actual eruption

was

Charlie

MacCarthy MacCarthy MacCarthy.

A son is a runaway thing.

Think mother you've got hold of him as a slippery eel.

Then you no longer have feel.

His words ran away with In abject silence I lipped no

sound. It

was un

forthcoming.

Walking down an aisle skipped ahead of me to the point where vanishing in the dim lights there

sight of him out of one's care.

Fall, 1962

Children, Long Ago

replaced two children long ago, With them considered, the only one to grow, To reach the flowering: towering of a growth.

I

I've been the upper branches of them both.

Driven to their

spot and separate beds

Marked to keep the walkers off the heads, Soiled in removes whenever we made the trip And parents over the grave would service lip,

me.

As far as the eye could see.

was no

Two

Mourn the

early harvest of their fruit,

Geraniums

plant in earthenware to root.

If monuments had lived and not

waylaid

Our parents wouldn't have come to the place they prayed

Over the dead bodies of their young.

Gladness songs instead would have sung.

Not taken me with

them, riding to rehearse

And passages sculptured into verse.

43

PORT_RAIT GOWN

By Charles-Gene McDaniel

Charles-Gene McDaniel received his B.S. ('54) and M.S.

('55) in the School of Journalism at Northwestern. As an

undergraduate writer he

won

a

Shuman Award. At York, Pennsylvania, he worked for three years as a reporter for

The Gazette and Daily. In 1958 he returned to Chicago as newsman for the Associated Press. Two essays by him have been published in the Nieman Reports, Harvard University.

Margaret approached

She thought she was the elevator starter half­

confidently and asked politely, "Excuse me, Miss, but could you tell me on what floor do they have evening gowns?"

It

was

not

her first

trip

to

Marshall

Field &

shop, but it was the first time she shop for something so import­ ant and so expensive as a gown. She needed the gown to wear to the photographer's to have her portrait taken. And she knew the best place to go to buy a gown was Field's. Everybody knew that.

Company ever

to

went there to

Field's

was

where

the

debutantes

went

to

buy

their gowns for their coming-out parties.

"Sixth floor, Miss."

Maggie everybody called her singer, a singer who in a short to time would go Hollywood to be in pictures.

She was finished St. Mary's High School two years now and was working as a switchboard operator while she took singing lessons and sang in ama­ teur contests and at parties.

Margaret Daly

-

wanted to be

-

time.

ready to break into the big

least she would start in

a small Well, in and no time she would be Chicago nightclub The producers, "discovered" by a producer. everybody knew, went to those clubs all the time and "discovered" girls and took them to Holly­ wood where they became stars in no time and made lots of money and had their names in lights.

Somebody at work had told her that she had to have an agent to get a job. You just couldn't walk in cold and get yourself hired. She asked her mu­

sic

at

teacher how

to

get

one

and he gave her

a

Maggie took a late lunch hour one day and stopped in at the building on Wabash Avenue in the Loop where the agent most theatrical had his office. agents, in fact name.

-

-

She hesitated at the threshhold of the open door

a

agent's stuffy, cluttered office. Sitting be­ was the agent, Sam, with his feet on the top. He was reading a copy of Billboard. In his mouth was the stub of a cigar, unlighted. Aware of her presence, he looked up.

"Come in, come in, Girlie. No sense wasting of the

hind the wooden desk

time

in

the hall.

What

can

I

do for

you?" He

didn't get out of his chair or remove his feet from the desk.

She crossed the barren floor into the cubicle of Its one window admitted weakened, re­ light and furnished a soot-obscured view of a neighboring building. An incandescent bulb protected by a milk-glass shade provided further illumination for the toppling piles of Variety, Bill­ board and Downbeat magazines, old newspapers and yellowing contracts which covered the desk, the relic of a piano against one wall, and two of a

room.

flected

44

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY

the three

dilapidated wooden chairs. The vacant was not always so, was for callers.

which

chair, dirty walls of a one-time neutral color were covered with framed photographs of singerx, dancers, jugglers, M.C.s, dog acts, and assorted other entertainers with touching inscriptions at­ testing to the agent's greatness.

"Mr. Tom Higgins sent me here. He told me you might be able to book me professionally," The

Maggie told the agent.

"Yeah?

What do you do?"

"I

the

play

piano and sing.

I'm

interested in

going into the movies, but 1 think maybe it would This Sam had heard before

her

to

of dresses recessed in the wall. A matronly clerk, primly dressed, approached her in the traditional more with the bearing of a Field's manner woman executive than with the self-effacing atti­ tude ordinarily displayed by one in that station.

"May I help you?"

"Why, yes," Margaret replied. "I am looking -

for a gown, program at to

be good to start in a club here in Chicago."

-

Margaret for a moment as she bearings and was struck with get paused the elegance of the place.

Somewhat hesitantly she walked toward a rack customers awed

a

formal gown, to wear in a musical church parish house. 1 am going

our

sing and play the piano."

"Oh, yes, I see. And did you have anything par­

about six million

times. He ceased even to think it funny any more.

ticular in mind?"

What the hell. He got them

waved a chubby, dirty-fingernailed hand in the di­

"Well, not definitely."

Seeing that Maggie really had no idea of what she wanted, the clerk said, "Come with me. Per­ haps we have something over here that you will

rection of the

like.

jobs and he got his

percentage.

"OK, Baby, let's

hear what you

can

do."

He

battered, dusty upright piano with a sagging keyboard.

Maggie sat down, cleared her throat, played a few introductory bars of "Embraceable You" in the "style" she had learned from Mr. Tom Hig­ gins, then started to sing.

Sam listened through a few bars, then went back to reading the paper until she had finished.

He knew the song backwards and upside down.

Everybody, but everybody, who auditioned did it.

Maggie was no better and no worse than most.

She turned around

on

the swivel stool and looked

at him. He put his paper down and took his feet

off the desk.

He

opened the

center

drawer, took

out

a

bat­

tered small black notebook and thumbed through

smudged pages until he found one with space re­ maining. He asked her name, address, and tele­ phone numbers at home and at work. eve­ professional shots, Doll to catch low ning gown, cut, ya know, something

"I'll need

some

not snapshots. Portraits, ya understand?"

compensate for her indecisiveness.

Maggie looked over the rack she tried to conceal her awe. And she succeeded, except for the widening of her green eyes but she was looking toward the gowns, so the clerk did not see.

"There's a gown here that I'm sure is just the one for you. It has been waiting for you and I know you'll like it. 1 think the size is just right, too," the clerk cooed in her trilly commission-sale soprano voice, dropping the cool indifference of When

-

Field's clerk.

From the rack of vari-colored wispy

gowns the clerk picked

a

frosted mint

young-girl green-and­

white gown of net. The bodice was of green with a draped bosom, a low-cut neckline and just a

hint of a sleeve. The skirt, with its own hoop, was fashioned in alternating tiers of green and white.

Yes, that was the gown for her, Maggie decided.

The clerk helped her try it

-

get one into the Gardenia Room. Then.

"Six, coming out on six. Going up. Up." Margaret stepped off the elevator onto the beige carpet of the sixth floor. The uncluttered show­ room with its indirect lighting and the hushed voices of the clerks talking with smartly dressed

on

-

and it did

fit.

Maggie took a surreptitious look at the price tag while the clerk fussed around with the skirt. was

He had gone through all this with enough young girls before. From a lot of them he had just got his percentage for a week or two and then they decided nightclub singing was not for them or, most frequently, the owner of the club decided.

Some a little longer. A few old timers had been making the rounds of the small clubs in outlying parts of the city for years and provided a pretty good income for him. Maybe someday he would

1962

Maggie said, brush­ strawberry blonde hair, to try to convey to the clerk a knowledgeable air to ing her hand past her

-

the eye of a club owner. Send me two or three poses. And make sure they're in formal gowns and

Fall,

"I can't wear red or pink,"

a

"OK, Sis, I'll see what 1 can do for you."

"

It

$150.

Maggie looked in the three-view mirror and secretly admired herself.

She must show more sophistication than to take the first gown showed her, though. While assuring the clerk how much she liked it and was

the gown for

was

sure

it

her, she asked to look at some

others.

"Of course," the clerk said. "We want you to be perfectly happy."

The clerk

picked several other gowns one at a

time and showed them to Maggie and looked to get

a

full view.

as

she stood off

She tried

on

one

other, an ice-blue gown, but she told the clerk she did not feel right in it. And the clerk agreed that the gown was not quite the one for her.

45

Again she tried on the first one, just to be sure.

And, while posing in front of the mirror again, she casually remarked to the clerk that only one thing about the gown worried her.

"I'm afraid this neckline

might be

too low to

argued that she at least should have om' or two shots sitting down. But she in­ sisted that she wanted to stand and he acquiesced.

Mr. Andre placed Maggie in the position he most suitable. He

wanted her and got behind his

suit the pastor."

turned

"Oh, but such a nice figure as you have should be shown to best advantage," the clerk told her.

"This gown is just right for you it complements your lovely coloring and its shows your nice figure without being immodest."

"Still, I'm afraid," Maggie replied. "If I buy the gown and show it to the pastor and he does not

would perspire

-

like it, may I return it?"

"Why, yes, of course, Dear."

Maggie paid for the gown with the cash she had taken from her savings account at the bank that morning before going shopping. With the purchase the clerk handed Maggie a card and told her, "Next time you come in, please ask for me again.

"Thanks, I will," Maggie replied, and put the card in her purse with the sales slip. "

She carried the gown with her in the box in which it was packed and stopped at Field's buffet for lunch.

Afterward

she filled the

appointment she had made to have her hair fixed, then to the

photographer's studio where she also had made an appointment.

It

was

one

of those fashionable Avenue.

had

photographers seen samples

Maggie glass case attached to the front of the building while on a window-shopping trip to the elegant shops she was afraid to enter. She had jotted down his name and telephoned for an appointment from work one day.

Maggie unwrapped the gown very carefully, leaving the tissue paper spread open on the floor of the dressing room just as she had unfolded it.

Carefully she removed the tag pinned beneath the sleeve and fixed in her mind the place of the pin holes so she could replace the tag exactly.

She applied all her make-up while sitting in her brassiere and panties and saw to it that it was perfect so she would have to do no retouching and risk soiling the gown. The anxiety of the shopping trip and being photographed and the anticipation of returning the gown caused her body to feel clammy with her nervous perspiration and she worried that this might soil the gown, so she washed carefully and rubbed herself thoroughly on

Michigan

of the work in

a

with a towel.

At last

she

got into the gown. The tag

string attached

a

to the

Then she went out.

photographer, Mr. Andre, looked her over, then asked her requirements. She told him that she was a singer and planned to use the por­ traits for publicity. For that reason, she said, she thought poses of her standing up would be 46

the

lights. Maggie

camera.

was

Then he

fearful that she

under the hot lights and soil

more

her dress. to relax

"Try He

Miss. You're too tense."

more,

flipped a switch and soft music began to play

from hidden speakers.

It did not help Maggie to relax much, however.

During the entire photographing session, Mr. An­ dre repeated in exasperation that Maggie must re­ lax

But she could not. She must be

more.

some

very careful not to soil the dress.

Finally it was over.

Maggie was relieved and went immediately to the dressing room to remove the gown. This she did as carefully as she had put it on. She found the two tiny holes pierced by the pin on the price tag and replaced the tag exactly as it had been.

She checked the gown to on

that no dirt had got

see

it during the photographing and to be sure she

had not perspired in it. Then she folded the gown with

meticulous

care, replaced it in the box tissues, and refolded the tissues along the creases made in packing.

She hurriedly put on her street clothes and left the dressing room, paid a deposit to Mr. Andre, and promised to return in a week to see the proofs and make a final selection for retouching.

among the

During her lunch hour on the following Monday.

Maggie went back to Field's with her package and took the elevator to the sixth floor. She different

clerk

and

was

asked for

approached by Aaronson, the name on the card. The clerk a

Mrs.

went

to

Maggie

fetch came

After

her.

exchanging greetings,

straight to the point.

"I showed the gown to the pastor yesterday and

he was quite upset. He says it is much too daring

the

girl and particularly for a performance in parish house. So I've decided to wear one of

my

street

for

a

dresses.

I'm

so

sorry.

1

wonder if 1

might get a refund."

She said all this

forget

hurriedly yet clearly, lest she

the story she had memorized to tell Mrs.

Aaronson. She affected

a

suitably pained expres­

sion on her face as she said it.

Mrs.

Aaronson

was

properly sympathetic and

felt sorry for the girl. on

zipper catch in the back of the bodice she tucked carefully inside the dress.

The

on

"Of course, 1 understand, Dear."

The clerk took the and took it into tomers.

Soon

an

she

box, unwrapped the gown,

area

was

concealed from the cus­

back with the refund for

Maggie.

"Do ask for

me

again next time you come to

the store."

"I will, Ma'am. And thanks so much."

NORTHWESTERN

TRI-QUARTERLY