Evan Hunter: The Paper Dragon

So here stands the poor skinny slum kid (not so poor, not so skinny, never having come from a slum anyway because it sure as hell wasn't a slum to me, it was the happiest place I've ever known in my life) standing alone in an Anglo-Saxon world being represented by a Jew (Where else but in America can a wop, etc.) and going up against a man named Jonah Willow, who sounds like a Eurasian philosopher, and I'm scared. I'm scared not because there were rats in Harlem, I'm scared not because there were pushers lurking on every street corner, I'm scared not because teenage hoods came at me with tire chains and switch blades, I'm scared because I'm alone.

"I'm scared because I've been making it alone ever since I was eighteen and got drafted into the United States Army, I'm scared and I'm tired, and I would like to rest.

He took a last drag on his cigarette, searched for an ash tray in the corridor, and found four of them fastened to the wall. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Willow and his assistant were coming back — the hell with them, let them be late — and then walked swiftly toward the courtroom. He pulled open one of the bronze-flowered doors and immediately saw Brackman and his partner at one of the long tables, Genitori and his assistant at the other. He saw Driscoll and his wife sitting in the empty jury box, just as before. He saw the court clerk hovering near the door to the judge's chamber, waiting to call, "All rise!" No one seemed to realize that beyond that paneled door the judge might be reading his newspaper or blowing his nose or laughing on the telephone or tying his shoelaces — or perhaps pondering the decision that would mean the difference between a sweet, staggering success and… what?

What you have now, Arthur thought.

Exactly what you have now.

Unnoticed, he took his seat at the plaintiff's table, and waited for the trial to resume.

"Mr. Constantine, would you please continue where you left off before the recess?" Brackman said.

"I was just about to begin with specific character similarities," Arthur said. "I was going to start with the character of Lieutenant Roger Mason in my play Catchpole and the character called Alex Cooper in The Paper Dragon . There are similarities there that go beyond the realm of coincidence, and I'd like to enumerate them."

"Please do."

"To begin with, the hero of my play is twenty-one years old, and fresh out of college. He goes into the Army as a private, is sent to O.C.S., and is shipped to the Pacific to fight the enemy. The man who played him on the New York stage was at least six feet tall, and he had dark hair and blue eyes — did I say he was a second lieutenant?"

"Your Honor, could the clerk—"

"Yes, certainly."

"Witness has referred to him only as 'a new lieutenant,' " the clerk said.

"Would you like to amend that in some way?" McIntyre asked.

"Yes, your Honor, if I may. I'd like to say that he was a second lieutenant. That's very important. Especially since the hero of The Paper Dragon is a second lieutenant, too. He is described in the book, in fact, as being twenty-one years old, fresh out of Pratt Institute, and drafted into the Army. He goes to O.C.S. and then is shipped off to the Pacific to fight the enemy. The enemy is a different one this time, admittedly, and the setting is Korea, not Eniwetok — but the similarity stands. In addition, the hero of the book is described as being six feet tall, and having dark hair and blue eyes. Physically, these two different men in two so-called separate works look exactly alike. You could almost say they were twins.

"Now the second similarity of character is the fact that there is a nurse in my play, and also a nurse in the book. In my play she is called Diane Foster, and in the book she is called Jan Reardon. Both girls are blond, both are young, both are from New York City. In fairness, I must say that the girl in the book is not a native New Yorker, whereas the girl in my play is. But in both the play and the book, there's a romantic attachment formed between the hero and the nurse."

"You're getting into plot again, aren't you?" Brackman asked.

"Only as it illuminates character."

"Go on, please."

"There is in my play a sergeant who is a member of a minority group, his name is Sergeant D'Agostino and he is an Italian. In the book there is also a sergeant who is a member of a minority group. His name is Sergeant Morley, and he is a Negro. Both these men play important parts in plot development, as I explained earlier."

"Yes, let's just stick to character similarities right now."

"There is a man killed in my play, right at the outset. His name is Private Hapsberg. There is also a man killed in The Paper Dragon , even before the hero arrives on the scene. His name is Major Randolph. I don't think the rank makes much difference, it's the idea of a sniper killing each of these men that—"

"Your Honor," Willow said, "it would appear to me that we are simply going over ground already covered. Unless this testimony regarding character similarities can demonstrably add to what we earlier heard, I must object to the witness continuing along these lines."

"It would seem, Mr. Brackman," McIntyre said, "that there is an overlap here."

"May I explain, your Honor?" Arthur asked.

"Yes, please."

"In developing a work of fiction," Arthur said, "the interplay between plot and character—"

"Your Honor," Willow said, "I do not believe this Court is interested in fiction techniques. We are here to determine whether or not an act of plagiarism took place. It is hardly to the point—"

"Please let him finish, Mr. Willow," McIntyre said.

"I was going to say," Arthur said, with a sharp glance at Willow, *"that character and plot are inseparable in a good work of fiction. Character determines plot, and in turn plot shapes character. In other words, it would be practically impossible to discuss either without referring to the other."

"Yes, I understand that," McIntyre said. "But it would seem that the character similarities you are now listing were adequately covered when you testified about plot. In that respect, I would agree with Mr. Willow."

"This is merely an amplification, your Honor," Brackman said.

"Well, I will allow the witness to continue," McIntyre said, "but I think we would all appreciate the elimination of material already covered."

"This is simply backing and filling, your Honor," Willow said.

"Whatever it may be, Mr. Willow, the witness may continue — with the reservation I have already mentioned."

"Well," Arthur said, and hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand, but…"

"We would like you to continue with character similarities," McIntyre said, "but we ask you to limit—"

"I understand that ," Arthur said, "but it seems to me…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed to say this," Arthur said, and looked at Brackman.

"Allowed to say what, Mr. Constantine?" McIntyre asked.

"Well, it seems to me that the only opportunity I'll get to present my case…"

"The Court has asked you to continue with your testimony," Brackman said, a note of warning in his voice. "If you have a question concerning—"

"I will hear the witness," McIntyre said.

"No, nothing," Arthur said, and shook his head.

"We're not trying to give you a fast shuffle here, if that's what you think," McIntyre said, and Arthur turned to look at him, and saw him as a person for the first time. He was close to fifty years of age, Arthur supposed, partially bald, with mild blue eyes and a pink face. He was frowning now, and his hands, delicate and small, were folded on the bench before him as he looked down at Arthur and waited for an answer.