John Barth - Giles Goat-Boy

so I decided, Why not make a pot

and also save my neck? This moron swore

he'd carry you a long way off before

he retailed you.

MAILMAN: I did, you crook!

SHEPHERD:[TO TALIPED]

But you

came back and made the prophecy come true.

So help me Founder, Dean! I'd rather lose

eight more fingers than be in your shoes!

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN:[TO SHEPHERD]

We call them buskins.

SHEPHERD: Oh.

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: Well, Taliped?

TALIPED: The truth! The truth at last! In my own head

I figured out the Answers to this mess!

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: You had a little bit of help, I guess…

TALIPED: The blinding light! At last I see the light!

And what it shows me is: Gynander's right!

I'm flunked on my ID-card, flunked in bed,

and flunked at Three-Tined Fork — I, Taliped,

the smartest dean that ever deaned, will never

see the light again! I'm flunked forever!

With this final cry he rushed into the Deanery, and while my spine thrilled with the horror of his Answers, the committee reconvened to sing its final plaintive report, the members holding hands and swaying gently from side to side:

Here today and gone tomorrow. [STROPHE 1

What the dickens. What the heck.

Men are whiffenpoofs that pass and get forgot.

Our committee will adjourn now,

But before we say bye-bye

Let us recapitulate this tragic plot:

In the protasis, or prologue, [ANTISTROPHE 1

The protagonist exposed

To the deuteragonist and choragos

Hamartia caused by hubris,

While the background was disclosed;

Then the chorus danced and sang the pàrodos.

After that the anabasic [STROPHE 2

Epeisodions commenced,

With the dithyrambic stasima between;

And ironic stichomyths led

To the anagnorisis:

A peripetal misfortune for the Dean.

Now the climax is upon us. [ANTISTROPHE 2

In the éxodos to come,

The catharsis will catharse us till we're spent;

Till catastrophe has pooped us

And the epilogue is done;

In the meantime here's the kommos, or lament:

Now their voices rose most sweetly in the touchingest words and music I'd ever heard — which, however, did not constitute a true kommos, according to Dr. Sear.

Taliphed had a mind like an iron trap. [STROPHE 3

Boo hoo hoo.

Caught the monster, caught the deanship, caughttheDean'swifeinhislap.

Boo hoo hoo.

Gentleman, scholar, and keen dean! But [ANTISTROPHE 3

Caught himself in his trap, like a nut.

Bet he wishes he'd kept it shut.

Boo hoo hoo.

Why did you murder your daddy, my friend?

Why did you roger your mommy? And

Why must we sing this refrain again?

Boo hoo hoo,

At this point, while my eyes swam still, the hush in which the committee's last notes died was broken by a static rustle and a terse voice from loudspeakers around the margin of the Amphitheater.

" Ladies and gentlemen: we interrupt this catharsis to bring you two special news bulletins …"

There was a general stir; Dr. Sear muttered something impatient about the adverse psychological effects of catharsis interruptus, but after a moment's pause the amplified announcement continued:

"The body of Herman Hermann, former dean of the Bonifacist extermination campuses, has been found in the New Tammany College Forests near Founder's Hill. Hermann, sought since the end of Campus Riot Two for crimes against studentdom, is reported to have been shot. His body was discovered this afternoon by a detachment of Powerhouse guards. Main Detention has begun an investigation of the case at Chancellor Rexford's request…"

The announcement was received with an outburst of cheering from everyone in the Amphitheater except Dr. Sear, who shrugged his shoulders, Max, who shuddered, and myself, too surprised by the novelty of loudspeakers to assimilate the news at once. Even Croaker woke up, grunted, and clapped his hands with the others. I heard people nearby remark that the beast had had it coming; that shooting was too good for the man who had administered the Bonifacist extermination campuses.

"No," Max said. "It was wrong."

" Here is the second bulletin ," the loudspeakers went on. " Late this afternoon WESCAC read out the following tidings of great joy: A true Grand Tutor is about to appear in New Tammany College, to show right-thinking students and staff-members the way to Commencement Gate. I repeat: WESCAC has officially read out that a true Grand Tutor is about to appear …"

One heard no more of the restatement, owing to the great stir in the crowd. People murmured and shouted, hooted and whispered. Some wiped their eyes on their sleeves; some shrilly laughed. A few left the theater; many others seemed to want to, but could not bring themselves quite to it.

"How 'bout that !" Peter Greene exclaimed; he slapped my knee and shook his head admiringly, as though I had played a great amusing trick on him. Dr. Sear regarded me with a look of sharply interested doubt, and Max embraced me — almost fearfully, I thought — and then excused himself mumbling that his bladder was full. I could not decide whether to rise and proclaim myself or hold my peace yet a while; moreover, for all my surge of feeling at the announcement, I had foresight yet to wonder what one did after the proclamation: having said, "I am that same Grand Tutor," did one then sit down again, or commence Tutoring straightway? And what did one say? Where anyhow was Commencement Gate? Better, I decided, to bide a bit more time; the players were assembling again in the orchestra; the lights dimmed that had come on for the announcement; I looked around for Max, but he had gone through the exit behind us; the crowd still hummed and shifted as the committee and its chairman gathered before the Deanery door through which now the Handsome Mailman came and waved his arms for silence.

MAILMAN: You ain't heard nothing yet.

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: We've heard a lot…

MAILMAN: This college is a loser.

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: If you've got

more bad news, don't beat about the bush;

lay it on us.

MAILMAN: Okay. Then I'll push

along for home, since neither snow nor rain,

et cetera.

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: We know.

MAILMAN: I can't complain

about the weather here in Cadmus; it's

your women burn me up. "If the shoe fits,

wear it," so they say, and Mrs. Dean

fit me like a — - you know what I mean.

I went upstairs to check the old girl out

on first-class mail reception — - you no doubt

recall her parting words?

COMMITTEE CHAIRMAN: She meant to go

and hang her dress up, I remember.

MAILMAN: Oh

boy, and did she ever! I near flipped

when I walked in and found the Deaness stripped