Сол Беллоу - Dangling Man

He does not care to speak of such things. He mentions them only in passing. He is not at all blind to their mean-heSS. He simply takes it for granted that they are bound to be mean. There is no dignity anywhere, nothing but absurd falsehood.

It is no use trying to bury this falsehood.

It would only rise again, to laugh at you. He says this in so many" words. When you ask him about the details of his life, he gives you a look of surprise. He is not offended; but that such admittedly shabby things should interest you surprises him genuinely. I–Ie would rather tell you the story of a bet lost or won; a fraud, a clever reply, an interestingreprisal, an insulting letter he sent a. creditor, a love affair.

Last time, hd told me a tortuous, long story about his attempts t conquer a Norwegian girl who lives in his hotel-Laird Towers.

I–Ie had met her on Thanksgiving Day, in the lobby. Hartly, the night clerk, had given him the. wink, and so he set about the siege. She didn't like him, of course. It always started that way. Around Christmas she started to look at him more. encouragingly. Unfortunately he was pinched, had no. money. It came to his notice, that other men in the hotel were making headway with her. Hartly kept him. only too well informed. "

"He didn't have to tell me. I could see from the'bbginning she was dynamite."

During the. holiday he made a killing on a little pony called Spotted Cow; it romped horn two lengths ahead of the field. H. asked the lorwegian out to the Fiorenza for a spaghetti dinner.

"I thought we. wece getting along pretty well, and when she excused herself for a few minutes at eleven o'clock I sucked tranquilly at my Perfecto Queen and said to myfea" It's in the bag." She had been drinking Pink Ladies, and she was running over. She went away unevenly. I waited. At eleven-fifteen there was no sign of her, so I thought, "Maybe she's sick in the powder room?"' And I went to get the matron to have a look. But I got as far as the orchestra, and there was the girl sitting in some guy's lap tinlally anticipating the time, with a prayerful despair crying "Boom!" but always prematurely. st' The sense in which Goethe was right: Continued life means expectation. Death is the abolition of choice. The more choice is limited, the closer we are to death. The greatest cruelty is to curtail expectations without taking away life completely.

A life term in prison is like that. So is citizenship in some countries. The best solution would be to live as if the ordinary expectations had not been removed, not from day to day, blindly. But that requires immense self-mastery.

February 10

Sa-nr. ert has been here twice in the past week. He seems to find me congenial. Which means, I venture to say, that he assumes we are in the. same boat. I would not mind the visits nor the assmnption if it were not for the fact that I still feel, at the end of a few hours, that we are practicing some terrible vice. together. We smoke and talk. He tells me about his adventures on the Coast, in the hospital, and about his present affairs. I have learned that he receives ten dollars a week from his mother and five more from his brother. Budgeting himself strictly, he manages to live on twelve, and the rest he spends on horses. Occasionally he wins, but he" estimates that he has lost four or five thousand dollars in the last ten years.

He does not care to speak of such things. He mentions them only in passing. He is not at all blind to their meanness. He simply takes it for granted that they are bound to be mean. There is no dignity anywhere, nothing but absurd falsehood.

It is no use trying to bury this falsehood.

It would only rise again, to laugh at you. He says this in so many" words. When you ask him about the details of his life, he gives you a look of surprise. He is not offended; but that such admittedly shabby things should interest you surprises him genuinely. He would rather tell you the story of a bet lost or won; a fraud, a clever reply, an interestingreprisal, an insulting letter he sent a. creditor, a love affair.

Last time, hd told me a tortuous, long story about his attempts t conquer a Norwegian girl who lives in his hotel-Laird Towers.

He had met her on Thanksgiving Day, in the lobby. Hartly, the night clerk, had given him the. wink, and so he set about the siege. She didn't like him, of course. It always started that way. Around Christmas she started to look at him more. encouragingly. Unfortunately he was pinched, had no. money. It came to his notice, that other men in the hotel were making headway with her. Hartly kept him. only too well informed. "

"He didn't have to tell me. I could see. from the'bbginning she was dynamite."

During the. holiday he made a killing on a little pony called Spotted Cow; it romped horn two lengths ahead of the field. He. asked the Norwegian out to the Fiorenza for a spaghetti dinner.

"I thought we. were getting along pretty well, and when she excused herself for a few minutes at eleven o'clock I sucked tranquilly at my Perfecto Queen and said to myfea" It's in the bag." She had been drinking Pink Ladies, and she was running over. She went away unevenly. I waited. At eleven-fifteen there was no sign of her, so I thought, "Maybe she's sick in the powder room?"' And I went to get the matron to have a look. But I got as far as the orchestra, and there was the girl sitting in some guy's lap.

Well, I tried not to seem injured, and I suggested that it wa getting late, we ought to start for home. But she wouldn't get up, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself. So I beat it."

He sent her letters for two weeks. She did not answer. When he had almost spent the last of his winnings, he met her in the Loop. It was her birthday, she said. He offered to buy her a drink.

They went to the Blackhawk and had four. By-and-by a few handsome, well-dressed fellows came up to the bar, one in a naval uniform. Alf rose, paid for the drinks, put the rest of his change on the table, and said, "I know when I'm outclassed." Without a cent in his pocket, he walked back to the hotel.

The story wandered to its inevitable conclusion the conquest, with the lorwegian learning at last to distinguish between his superior worth and his appearance, giving in to him jokingly and condescendingly while drunk, and then finding that she had more than she had bargained for, et cetera. It would have shocked All to know that he was boring me, for he considers himself a first-class entertainer. Any night club would be lucky to have him. He can be original'in several dialects.

But I would rather not be entertained. I welcomed him at first, and I still rather like him. But I wish he would not come so often.

February 11

Moation ADI. ERT is back; he called this morning and said he was coming to visit me as soon as he could break away. Robbie Stillman has come in after six months in Officers' School. He has become an engineer. His business will be to construct airfields. Army life, he says, is not hard when you accustom yourself to discipline. You have t learn to submit.

His brother Ben is somewhere in the interior of Brazil. He hasn't been heard from since October.

February 14

No sIcation of Myron or of anyone else.

Even Steidler seems to have deserted me. Two days without visitors, talk, interest. nothing. A pair of perfect blanks punched out of the calendar.

It's enough to make one pray for change, merely change, any change, to make one worship experience-in-itself. If I were a little less obstinate, I would confess failure and say that I do not know what to dwith my freedom.

February 15

Ls.8"Every from Abt, rich in Washington gossip and explanationsof current policy. Why we act as we do in North Africa and toward Spain, De Gaulle, Martinique. It amuses me to catch the subtle pride with which he mentions his familiarity with important figures. (i assume they are important in official circles; I have never heard of them.)