William Gaddis - The Recognitions

"Get Male hormones Science has discovered that domestic and business worries often disappear when male hormone deficiency is overcome… If you do not feel the return of that old-time activity, that keen love and zestful desire for life. ." — Shut up and leave him alone, Hannah repeated, crumpling the paper but she did not drop it.

— Leave who alone? Otto and I are discussing Vaihinger, aren't we Otto? He's an expert on als ob, ich gebe Ihnen mein Wort, Hannah, an expert, ich bin ihm nicht gewachsen, Hannah. .

— Shut up, she said to him, looking him straight in the face as he became more agitated. The spots on his complexion stood out vividly, and his hair was up as though a wind were blowing. He reached up and felt it, took out a dirty pocket comb and made cracking sounds combing his hair.

— Scabs, he said. — I'm sycotic. Do you know who I envy? I envy Tourette. He had a disease named after him, a very God-damned rare one.

— Are you drunk? If you're not why don't you shut up.

— When you have Tourette's disease you go around repeating dirty words all the time. Coprolalia. Everybody below Fourteenth Street has coprolalia. Then he opened his magazine and turned suddenly to Otto. — "Women are funny," he read. — "You never know whether you're making the right move or not. Avoid disappointment, heartbreak! Save yourself lots of tragedy. Don't be a Faux pas!"

— Anselm, Otto began quietly, — why don't you relax and. .

— You're drunk. Why don't you try God? Four three-letter words, Why Not Try God? That's a book by Mary Pickford. Real coprolalia. You'd like that. Then he got breath and said, — You know who I envy? Never mind. The buttons say U.S. .

— What's the matter with you tonight, is it on account of Charles? Hannah cut in, and Anselm stopped singing abruptly, and stared at her.

— I'm not. . singing to you, he said after a moment, faltering, and he looked down at the dirty floor muttering something.

— Well why don't you. .

— Well why don't you leave us alone!. . you, God damn you, you. ,

— I meant to tell you how glad I am about your play, Stanley said to Otto. — I am, honestly.

— Thank you, I… I know you are, Otto said, and put a hand to his shoulder. — You're really good, aren't you Stanley.

— I wish I were. I wish everyone was.

— There'd be a lot of crazy priests out of work. Work! Hahaha. .

— Anselm, you. .

— Damn you Hannah, God damn you, is it any business of yours if I feel this way about Charles? And his mother coming here to get him and take him home to Grand Rapids and when he wouldn't go she left him here, with nothing? with his wrists. . just like she found them, she. . You remind me of her, maybe it's your Goddamned smile. Maybe it's the way you try to get your hooks into Stanley, for his own good, for his own good!

— But what. .

— It's the complacency I can't stand, Anselm burst out. — I can't stand it anywhere, but most of all I can't stand it in religion. Did you see Charles's mother? did you see her smile? that holier-than- thou Christian Science smile, she turns it on like. . They're so complacent about this error of matter they've picked up, "It's nice because it's mine," that's the kind of a look they have, as if the old bag who started them off was the first one to think of the error of matter, didn't they ever hear of Catharism? or the Albigensians? or the Manichaeans? or even Bishop Berkeley? No, they stop thinking the minute they get hold of that thing Science and Health, they never read another book after that, they've got a corner on the Truth, everybody else is a Goy. .

— So what have you got your balls in an uproar for? Hannah pressed him.

— Because Charles and I… I don't blame Charles a God damn bit for flipping. God is Love! We'd all flip, taking that from your own mother and you're lying there with your wrists slashed open. But love on this earth? Christ!. . pity? compassion? That's why I've got my balls in an uproar if you want to know, talking about some kind of love floating around Christ knows where, but what did she give him? When he wouldn't go back to Grand fucking Rapids and be treated by Christian Science? She gave him one of those eternally damned holier-than-thou smiles and left him here. She left him here without a cent, to let Bellevue kill him, or let him try it again himself. God is Love, for Christ sake! If Peter had smiled like a Christian Scientist Christ would have kicked his teeth down his throat. He sat there whispering to himself, and then said, — At least the Catholics have some idea of humility, I have to admit.

— All right, Anselm, nobody. .

— All right, all right, I'll shut up. But don't you understand me? He half rose from the table, looking at her with an insane intensity; and then shuddering through his frame, sank back in his chair, and she turned to Stanley.

— How is your mother? she asked him.

— You always ask me that, Hannah. Thank you for asking.

— But how is she?

— She's. . waiting. She's still waiting very patiently. They're going to move her to another hospital.

— Catch my mother waiting patiently, Anselm muttered.

— Please don't talk disrespectfully of your mother, Anselm.

— She's a nut, Stanley, said Anselm calmly, looking up at him. — It's all right, I'm just stating a fact. She's a nut. An old nut. Right now she's probably down in the Tombs forcing a Bible on some poor bastard who just wants to be left alone with. . alone. He was perspiring, staring at the dirty floor. — Do you care if He… a saint, kissing the leper's sores? he whispered to none of them; and then said, — Never mind, never mind, you don't. . you can't. . do you know who I envy?

Mr. Feddle's alarm clock swung like a pendulum as he almost fell, recovered, and tipped in the opposite direction. The swinging clock banged the edge of their table. — That old fool, Otto muttered, — except he's not funny.

— But very sad, Stanley said, drawing back as the clock swung in a dangerous arc, above the tabletop, and down. Someone cried, — Owwwww, as it cracked an ankle. — He's happy now because he's publishing something at last. People congratulate him, they're really laughing at him all the time because it's a vanity house, but he doesn't know that, that they're laughing at him. And his wife looks troubled and says, But publishing is expensive, isn't it, she doesn't know you're supposed to make money publishing something, she thinks any author has to pay to publish something of his own. At parties he used to go around autographing books from the bookshelves, he'd write a dedication and sign the author's name.

— That's good, Otto laughed, looking at Mr. Feddle's back which stood now stolid as a grandfather clock, only the pendulum swinging for he had just bowed and shaken hands. — It could go in a play.

— You shouldn't be cruel now, just when you've sold your play Otto.

— But even if I hadn't, Otto turned on Stanley. — Even if I hadn't…

— I envy Doctor Hodgkin. Anselm was cleaning his teeth thoughtfully with a folded match cover. — He had a disease named after him.

— What kind of disease?

— Hodgkin's disease, for Christ sake.

— A kind of cancer, said Max from behind them.

— Cancer hell. It's a kind of leukemia. If you want to know what it is, it's progressive hyperplasia of the lymphatic glands associated with anemia. Lymphadenoma.

— Where'd you hear that?

— I studied medicine, Anselm said, mumbling as he did usually when admitting to something favorable about himself; and as immediately embarrassed at so having drawn their attention, tore from his magazine "piles! Amazingly fast palliative relief. . No mess or sticky fingers!. . It's Better, Faster, Easier to use!. ." Beneath that: "GoD Wants You. . Poor health? Money troubles?… A remarkable New Way of Prayer that is helping thousands to glorious New Happiness and Joys. ." — Here Stanley, take your choice. It's all one anyhow, he said, rolling the cover closed on Can Freaks Make Love? — You know, the trouble with you, you're all mothers' sons, Max said to them. Stanley stopped stirring his coffee and looked up, Anselm turned on him, Hannah had turned away. — You and An-selm and Charles, Max smiled agreeably to Stanley. — And Otto? he added, looking at Otto who said,