Gordon Lish - Collected Fictions

The paste?

If the paste, then not Tarski?

If Tarski, then not then Kripke?

All to say Giorgio, to say Agamben, to say hip hip hooray — which is not to have said hurray.

YES. GOOD. YES. RIGHT. All right. The record. To make the record. To create the record. To record it. To record the record of it. All right. The final record of it. An exacting record of it. An exactitudinous record. Exactly. The conclusive record. A conclusive record. Account! The concessive, a concessive account. Consecutive account. To make the consecutive, to give the consecutive, to give a consecutive account. To make the record of the consecutive account. A sort of recordation of it — yes, yes. Consecutively and concessively. Concedingly. To concede to it. To concede to do it. Giving in to it. A sort of, a kind of giving in to it. A sort of summing up of it. A sort of summing it up. Offering to, conceding to sum it up. Consenting to sum it all up. Being willing to do it. Being willing to consent to do it. Fine. Good. Right. Yes. All right. I say yes to it. One says yes to it. One says an emphatic yes to it — yes, yes, all right to it! Very well to it — all right to it. Very good. High time, too. High time I did it, too. About time one did it, too. It's about time one did it, summed it up — all of it up. One's ready at last to make one's last summing up of it up. One has prepared oneself for a last summing up of it. One has made one's peace with it, with doing it, with saying it. One most emphatically has! So. One is ready to say one's piece. So. One is at peace with the occasion now upon one, now thrust upon one, now pressed upon one — to say one's piece. At last. So. Good. We shall be about it, then. Shall we not be about it, then? And say it? Let us be about it, then, and say it! In summary. In sum. Fully and amply but exactly. With exactitude. With unassailable, with unimpeachable exacting exactitude. Very good. Exactitudinously — but humanly and truly. Gordonly. As Gordon, then. As, then, oneself! As, shall we say, oneself! In the manner of one's very self. Without adornment. Without ornament. Plainly but plenteously. Plainly but with plenitude. Good. To be plentiful, to be bountiful, but to be plain — though bounteous. After a fashion. In a fashion. I was, one was — after a fashion. One was in pursuit of a fashion. One pursued a fashion. The thing was fashion. The very thing was fashion. Fashion was the thing of it. One was glad to be in fashion. My father, Father, was a hatter and therefore, and thus, emphatically, as a man, in fashion. As was Mother, my mother — a millinery model herself. A model of millinery herself. A model — it goes without saying — of ladies' millinery, of millinery worn by ladies. Of headwear worn by women. Of women's headwear, then. So. Mother, my mother, modeled — for the trade — women's headwear, whereas Father made it. Made women's headwear. Well, he is gone. Father is gone. So also, so too — well — so also, then, is Mother. Mother and Father — are gone. Leaving — leaving me, then, only I, then, myself, then, therefore naught but oneself, then, to make the record of it, to give the account of it — to furnish it, to be the furnisher of it, of the history of it — of their burden, of our burden, of — well — of myself. But as to Henry first. But first as to Henry, as to Mickey, as to Jackson, as to Fred. Henry, then. So. Henry first! Henry was acquired largely, principally, it seemed to me, for the cage, because of the cage. The motive, the motive force was — the cage. The family fancied — for a certain site, for a certain station on the premises — a certain cage. So. The bird — it was given the name Henry. A cage for Henry — and a Henry for the cage. A triller, a warbler, a roller — bird. Nicely named. Not an unpretty name for a bird. Trilling, warbling, etc. — this sort of thing. Song. It sang. A songster of sorts. Henry, the songstering bird. Now quite song-less, of course. Gone quite completely silent, of course. Quite dead, quite dead. Dead Henry. Gone. A goner. Deceased by reason of bathwater collecting excessively where he, Henry, stood. Where stood Henry impressively — for that matter. Where stood Henry quite stolidly, actually — quite impressive in the stolidity of his standing, actually — bathwater meanwhile collecting itself into a portion enough, bathwater meanwhile pooling at the ankles — pooling, you understand — mounting, ever mounting — waterously deepening the moral depth taken when Henry took his stance. So. Henry had taken his stance. Henry had positioned himself, had taken, or had taken up, a position so as to position himself. So as to be in position for come what may. Well, Henry was in position. Had composed himself thus. Steady on — on unsteady ankles. Unlike Fred. Not anything like unto the manner of Fred. Henry passed, passed away, drowned, was drowned, etc. Bird lung, etc. Some sort of balloonish affair adequate to the purpose, one supposes, but compromised not with great impediment. Whereas Fred, for his part, disappeared. Fred. So. Appearance, disappearance — and so forth. Actually, a sort of philosophical thing. Well, mail-ordered to the premises. In accordance with instrument, one imagines, not uncommon among approaches broached to situate hermit crabs in domestic circumstances. But enough of Fred. Fred — disappeared. Was lifted from habitat, was snatched up from the habitual bowl — oh, the bowl! — for a walk. For an evening's turn about the premises. A stroll for Fred! This sort of thing. So. Not even the dainty ankle for good old Fred. But enough of Fred. Fred's gone. Fred went. What about Jackson? What about Mickey? This is the thing — Jackson and Mickey. Because concerning Jackson, Jackson barked. Concerning Mickey, Mickey scratched. Now I ask you, speaking strictly as their victim, I ask you — did one not have ears? One had, most emphatically, ears. And until one were in longies, until one were within reach of the dispensation of wearing longies, was one not — wasn't one not in short pants? All right. Good. Point, yes? Points, actually. And concessive even. Even with a certain conceding quality in evidence even. The recordation of it, I mean. This summary, I mean. But meant, of course, no more than Gordonly. Yet what — in the whole wide world of the behatted and of the unbehatted — isn't?

So.

Good.

All souls accounted for.

Plentifully enough.

Even, ah, plentitudinously.

Runaway and otherwise.

In under, in less than, in fewer than — not unbitterly, either — thirty cruel minutes.

Why don't you believe me?

Whose vengeance is it that keeps cursing me for my making an ever more extravagant investment in what's to be made over to me from my more and more telling all? No, I am neither liked nor believed — or did I just lay down a plank of past-participializing wrong-way-wise from left to right? No matter, Gordo's busted — left behind by wife and child, naught left for him to do for himself but rattle around in search of gash and/or gash and romance. And so it was that I was able to form a yeasty introduction to a woman who made plain that she was Susan.

Or had said Susanne.

No matter — the matter was settled with dispatch — the practiced considerations ensuing at all modest speed — a brief tea at a tearoom excessively dainty enough, a not unmodulated vehemence of ardors passing from one to the other by telephone — and, with charming promptitude, the whole of it, concluded — to wit, that Susan or Susanne would come with herself to my place to a small supper that I would serve to her, and, if all appeared to go acceptably, not remove herself therefrom until an hour usefully deep into the morning.