Frolic of His Own

by William Gaddis

  —Well? How about it.

  —He’s got a lot on his plate, Mister Kiester has.

  —Just what I’ve been saying about him isn’t it? Just another rotten, a scandal like this maybe it will put him out of business.

  —Afraid you’ve got it exactly backwards Mister Crease, bigger the mess you make out there the more they want you. Forge a few checks, get caught with your hand in the till, the more you steal the more you’re in demand, figure you’ve got just the kind of smarts they need out there. It’s all just money.

  —It’s not all just money! Stealing money is . . .

  —You want to sue them for damages, that’s money isn’t it?

  —Because that’s the only damn language they understand! Isn’t that what you just said? But stealing a whole world somebody’s created and turning it into a hogpen just because there’s money in hogs? Steal poetry what do you sue them for, poetry? and the court sentences Kiester to two hundred hours of community service? Two hundred hours teaching Yeats to the fourth grade? Expect me to pay your legal bill with Maid Quiet?

  —Match her up with Mister Clean.

  —With what?

  —Where has Maid Quiet gone to, Nodding her russet hood?

  —The winds that awakened the stars Are blowing through my blood. Well! Well, we share something then don’t we Mister Basie, no small thing either.

  —That’s good to know. Now getting back to the . . .

  —To where we left off yes, I can see now you’ll be sensitive to these nuances I tried to get in here, the Major’s still talking when Thomas walks in.

  THE MAJOR

  (OVERBEARING, GESTURING TOWARD DOWNSTAGE RIGHT)

  That and the porch there on the east front. It never was finished, just left like it is.

  (ABRUPTLY VAGUE AND RESIGNED)

  I never could find it there in the book. I never could figure what my father had planned there . . .

  THE MAJOR stands abandoned with the remains of his empty gesture as THOMAS enters the parlour, directly embracing WILLIAM familiarly round the shoulders. WILLIAM behaves throughout with a hurt but heightened almost self-conscious masculinity in his presence.

  WILLIAM

  (WITHDRAWING FROM THE EMBRACE, HIDING HIS SHOCK AT THOMAS’ SCAR)

  One of those Yankee women kissed you there, Thomas?

  THE MAJOR

  (APPROPRIATING THOMAS)

  Mister Kane, my son in law . . . ? Mister Kane is just down here from Richmond, Thomas. He thinks he may be able to help us with that cotton we have tied up down at Wilmington. To get it all shipped over to France before it’s lost like we lost that at Beaufort.

  KANE

  (TO THOMAS)

  I understand you’re acquainted in Paris? That your father ranked in the embassy there.

  THE MAJOR

  (HASTILY, TO THOMAS)

  Yes, Thomas, I . . . I told Mister Kane, about your father’s . . . ah, ambassadorial work over there, and your contacts that might help in reaching the Emperor.

  THOMAS

  (STARTLED)

  The Emperor?

  THE MAJOR

  (HURRYING ON)

  Mister Kane is going over himself, to France. There’s a shipyard there going to build a ram that will sink the Union blockade to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. The importance . . . you can see the importance, if we want them to see us as anything better than what they do now, a belligerent. The Emperor there can’t seem to make up his mind, he wants cotton, he wants Mexico . . .

  THOMAS

  We left there seven years ago, when my father died in the year ‘fifty four.

  KANE

  Still, you might have known some fine Bonapartists? Fleury, perhaps? Persigny . . . ?

  THOMAS

  (AGITATED, LAUGHS UNCOMFORTABLY)

  Fleury’s wife . . .

  KANE

  (TO THE MAJOR)

  You didn’t tell me you had a diplomat here, and one in the very best French tradition? One who might know the boudoirs of Paris even better than the court itself?

  THOMAS

  I? I was brought up there in the Second Republic. Even when the Empire came back, my father had me reading Rousseau. ‘The supreme guidance of the will of the people,’ and the reign of universal reason.

  KANE

  All we heard over here from France in the ‘forties was the voice of the people crying ‘Get rich quick!’

  THOMAS

  (TURNING TO WILLIAM, AS THOUGH TO INCLUDE HIM)

  Do you remember, Will? How we used to talk? ‘Its power has no limits,’ Its . . . its punishments are simply a means of ‘compelling men to be free . . . ’?

  (PAUSING, AT A LOSS AT WILLIAM’S SILENCE, TURNS BACK TO KANE)

  Yes, I . . . I came back here to America with my mind stuffed with ambitions and the Social Contract in my pocket, looking for Rousseau’s noble savage and a great career in public life . . .

  KANE

  And you were disappointed?

  THOMAS

  Till now!

  WILLIAM

  (IMPULSIVELY, TO THOMAS)

  It’s true, then? You’re going up north today, Thomas?

  THOMAS

  (TAKEN ABACK)

  Didn’t they tell you . . . ?

  THE MAJOR

  (OVERBEARING, TO KANE)

  Thomas got word here last night of the death of an uncle, a prominent coal magnate in Pennsylvania. The Federal government’s ready to confiscate everything, what’s rightfully his, if he’s not there to claim it. You know how much we need coal.

  WILLIAM

  (IN A COMPULSIVE UNDERTONE)

  If I had a chance to be up there myself . . .

  THOMAS

  (CONFUSED)

  Up . . . north?

  WILLIAM

  At the war! Oh, I’m not saying a thing about you Thomas, it isn’t you haven’t done four men’s part . . .

  (HIS OUTBURST BECOMES A MOCKING RECRIMINATION)

  To hear them tell it, you won that battle up at Ball’s Bluff all by yourself, didn’t he now Papa? And coming back here with a scar to show? No, just myself, if I could be up there, how I’d let anything to keep me away, missing it like I’ve missed it now a whole year.

  THOMAS

  (AFTER LOOKING FROM ONE TO THE OTHER DURING EMBARRASSED PAUSE, STUNG BY WILLIAM’S RECRIMINATION, TURNS TO HIM)

  Well, you should! You should see it! Isn’t that so, Major? Yes, the spectacle, isn’t that so, Mister Kane? The spectacle of it? Of men before battle . . . ? And now? Now that it’s almost over, and probably never the chance again . . .

  WILLIAM

  (MORE SHARPLY)

  Over? For us? The coast blockaded, our ports all closed, a hundred thousand Union troops right outside Richmond and Jackson off in the Shenandoah . . . ?

  THE MAJOR

  (INTERPOSING OVERBEARINGLY, TO KANE)

  Yes, you might know something of that battle, sir? The battle we fought them up at Ball’s Bluff? Thomas distinguished himself up there, in a Company under my command. He’s made us proud to have him in the family here.

  (WITH AN AWKWARD ATTEMPT TO BE SPORTIVE)

  He’s from a fine family himself, of course, but it’s not a Southern family, strictly speaking. This uncle that’s dead up in Pennsylvania was an eminent figure in politics there, and I’ve told you about his father’s post, that he held till the day he died.

  (TO THOMAS, ARRESTING HIS DEPARTURE)

  Mister Kane tells me that he was formerly an instructor in history up in Virginia, where General Jackson taught.

  (WAITS FOR KANE’S RESPONSE)

  I meant to point out, sir, that you had been a friend of General Jackson?

  KANE

  I knew him.

  THE MAJOR

  A totally remarkable man!

  (PAUSES)

  Yes . . . did you not find him so even then, sir! At the Virginia Military Academy?

  KANE

  I believe he has found his vocati
on.

  THE MAJOR

  (WARMLY)

  He has indeed, sir! The God-fearing certainty with which he goes about his business? Is there anything you cannot help admiring about such a man?

  KANE

  (THOUGHTFULLY)

  His nose. Yes, I cannot help admiring that, now you mention it.

  THE MAJOR

  (STARTLED)

  Sir?

  KANE

  (TURNING TO THOMAS)

  Yes, as I do yours, sir.

  THE MAJOR

  His . . . nose? We are speaking of General Jackson, sir!

  KANE

  Yes, yes, I can envy him, the God-driven man. I can envy the man who knows, who knows without question, and acts. But . . . admire him? Heroes like that can cost us all dear before we’re done. What happens when they’re needed?

  (GESTURING, HE KNOCKS A GLASS TO FLOOR AND STARES AT BREAKAGE)

  There, I’m sorry, but like that. I’m sorry, but there. Like that, it just happens, thrown from a horse, shot down when the light’s bad or something else that we can call . . . accident.

  THE MAJOR

  (BETWEEN BAFFLEMENT AND INDIGNATION)

  But . . . indeed sir!

  —Mister Crease? Let me ask you, where are we going here.

  —Going? I told you, give you some feel for the play before we . . .

  —Talking about the movie. You haven’t seen the movie, I haven’t seen the movie, you know anybody who’s seen the movie?

  —If you’ll just be patient yes, yes I do, and there are similarities that simply can’t be explained by coincid . . .

  —He spell them out?

  —It’s a she no, no except for these sexually explicit scenes she was quite clear about those but they’re not in the play anyway, matter of fact she wasn’t sure whether she’d actually seen certain scenes or if the words just made her think she had but the man she was with, she . . .

  —Maybe doing a little groping there in the dark?

  —That’s occurred to me Mister Basie! It’s a, she’s not too reliable about movies, they showed that old Laughton picture once and she got quite confused, thought it would be about football, the halfback of Notre Dame but this scar now, she was clear enough about this scar on his cheek it’s even mentioned in that review, coming home from the battle at Ball’s Bluff and his uncle’s just died up north with these coal mines? It’s right there in this scene isn’t it? You call that a coincidence like mine? this one of mine?

  —This what, I don’t . . .

  —My scar, this scar right here on my cheek can’t you see it?

  —Now you point it out, it’s . . .

  —Of course it is, that’s why I’m suing and it’s not just the money, loss of earning capacity, career in jeopardy no, it’s the principle of the thing. It’s the pain and suffering, mental anguish, simple justice after all, I’m just claiming my constitutional rights aren’t I?

  —Might put it that way, but you get up and try to prove it in court they . . .

  —No question of that once I can assert my full common law rights, you’re a lawyer aren’t you? Break out from under all these petty restrictions, provisions, limitations under the, just hand me that folder on that pile of books there it’s all spelled out, you think they won’t take it seriously? Just look at me, tell them the hospital wanted me to sign something in case of death donating any left over usable parts for some perfect stranger? Like that fellow who left his skull to the Royal Shakespeare Company for the graveyard scene in Hamlet you could specify which organs or parts and what use they could, here, here it is yes, whether the Federal and State Constitutions’ equal protection and due process clauses are violated by here, quoting Montgomery v. Daniels where the court held that New York’s Article 18 was not unconstitutional nevertheless supporting the ‘concept that the individual is the basic and ultimate unit in society must be supported by recognition of the value of one’s physical, mental and emotional integrity, including freedom from pain and suffering and the ability to live an uncrippled life.’ You see?

  —Can’t say I see exactly where the . . .

  —Well it’s right here, it’s perfectly clear, quoting Falcone v. Branker. ‘A disfigurement is that which impairs or injures the beauty, symmetry, or appearance of a person or thing; that which renders unsightly, misshapen, or imperfect, or deforms in some manner.’ You see what we’re getting at.

  —Can’t say I do, exactly. You write this up yourself did you?

  —Certainly not no, my attorney drew it up, he . . .

  —You say you already got an attorney?

  —Well of course, this is the complaint he drew up, he goes on from Montgomery. ‘The automobile, a modern bane and boon, daily threatens that integrity for millions of people. And Article 18, while not in any way alleviating that threat, strips a class which includes most automobile accident victims of the right to be fairly compensated for injuries and pain and suffering,’ you see? Just because it provides these full first party benefits accruing to the injured person regardless of fault or negligence on the part of the covered person, that’s where they’re claiming immunity from lawsuits like this one without, where is it, without here, without permitting nonduplicative recovery by suit against tortfeasors at common law. That’s what the whole, where are you going. It’s down the hall on the right.

  —Thought I’d see how she’s coming with that coffee.

  —Just be patient . . . A hand broke free to squeeze the horn, —now. Can we go ahead?

  —You say you already have an attorney Mister Crease, now why you had me to come all the way out here frankly I’m just not clear what we’re talking about.

  —Talking about this scar aren’t we? We’re talking about coincidence, my scar and the scar on the face of this character in my play that’s a coincidence, his scar and the scar on the face of the character in this movie is not a coincidence, it can’t be, the same battle, the Major there home from the war and the whole . . .

  —Problem you run into with these similarities though you’ve got to prove it, prove they stole it, be surprised how many times somebody will make something up like a song maybe, he writes this song maybe just honestly forgets somewhere a long time ago he heard practically the same thing, even if he didn’t there’s just so many combinations of notes isn’t there. Talk about a play now, you take O’Neill, Eugene O’Neill, see I did some, took some acting classes you might call them once, sort of little theatre, you know, even thought of being a serious actor for a while there and . . .

  —If you want to play O’Neill fine, play your heart out. Go right ahead Mister Basie, the Emperor Jones is a powerful role, almost operatic isn’t it but that’s not what I’m talking about.

  —Neither was I.

  —What? Oh. Oh I meant, I didn’t mean just because you’re . . .

  —Didn’t mean anything by it no, that’s good to know. See what put me in mind of O’Neill was some old Civil War play he wrote where there’s this old Southern mansion with all these Greek columns and . . .

  —Well it ends right there, believe me! Because his play’s about the Civil War too? Which of course it’s not is it, it’s a clumsy warmed over schoolboy parody of Euripides with a few vulgar Freudian touches thrown in for good measure.

  —No but see that’s what I’m saying here, just the appearance, why just this appearance of even some real close similarities won’t hold up in court, have to match them up line by line, prove they knew about your play, that they saw your play performed or had the easy chance to? or that they . . .

  —Well of course they never saw it performed.

  —Then how come you . . .

  —Because it’s never been performed that’s how come! Nobody’s ever seen it performed, a serious play of ideas like this one you expect to see it in lights on Broadway? All Broadway wants is tits and ass, a chorus line of stupid self indulgent idiots cavorting around the stage singing about tits and ass and the whole loud vulgar, tickets bought on compa
ny expense accounts to entertain your out of town buyer you think he wants to sit through something that requires one grain of intelligence?

  —You been to the theatre lately Mister Crease?

  —Me? God no. Wad up your coat and jam it under the seat you’ve paid sixty dollars for where you can see exactly half the stage, hot as blazes and you can’t cross your knees, the curtain goes up on a torrent of obscenity or some burntout star who’s decided a revival of an old chestnut like your O’Neill there’s his vehicle for immortality the minute he staggers onstage the audience explodes in applause and goes to sleep till intermission for the cigarette in the alley and that watery five dollar orange drink. End of the limited engagement the investors grab their tax breaks and status as patrons of the arts one thing you can be sure of, they’re having a better time up there on the stage than you are. Whether it’s spouting tits and ass or your O’Neill chestnut they’re all just having a good time at your expense.

  —Let me ask you then, clear up one thing for me while we . . .

  —‘A gross, coarse form of art,’ Pound made it pretty clear didn’t he? writing to Joyce when Joyce ground out that dreary play Exiles, ‘speaking to a thousand fools huddled together . . . ’

  —Feeling like that then, how come you’d want to write for the theatre in the first place?

  —Did I say that? write for the theatre? Get back to our friend Yeats here when he and Pound were going to write plays together that Pound said wouldn’t need ‘a thousand people for a hundred fifty nights to pay the expenses of production.’ They can read it can’t they? produce it in their own minds if they’ve got any probably do a better job of it than these money grubbing producers, stagehand unions, actors unions and the rest of the . . .

  —No that’s good to know, you had it published? Access, see that’s what we’re talking about that constitutes access, chance for somebody to read it and lift whatever they . . .

  —I didn’t say it was published! No, I submitted it with some excerpts written as a novel, the way I’d treat the whole thing as a novel and they turned it down because of my age, they liked it they liked it a lot but they said I was too old to market, not the book but me, to market me! Talk shows, book tours all the rubbish that publishing’s turned into, not marketing the work but selling the author in this whole revolting media circus turning the creative artist into a performer in this frenzy of publicity because I wasn’t a baseball player with AIDS or a dog that lived in the White House I was just too old, try to deal with these publishers all they want is your coffee, put it down there Ilse not on the books! on those newspapers there, I sent a copy to myself registered mail in a sealed envelope against just such a piece of dirty work as this one, I did that when I . . .