Stepping Westward

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Stepping Westward Page 9

by Malcolm Bradbury


  ‘Well, speak for yourself,’ said Millingham. ‘It still is my day.’

  ‘I blame it on the orange juice,’ said Walker. The girls now all took out the cherries on the sticks and ate them first, while Jack Wilks played ‘Horsey, Keep Your Tail Up’.

  ‘Of course, these American girls are very demanding,’ said Millingham. ‘The thing is, they’re so inexhaustibly verbal. Take an English girl out and if she’s said “Ooo” three times that’s a good conversational evening. But American girls talk about everything. They’re like these American sports cars with a hundred clocks on the dashboard. They have to have a report on every area of sensation. And they want pleasure at all times. Stop amusing them for a minute and you’ve taken away one of their inalienable rights, the pursuit of happiness.’

  Walker and Millingham sat and watched the girls, who were now all smoking filter cigarettes, which they put out after four puffs, until a voice interrupted them.

  ‘Ah, my old friend!’ said the voice; Dr Jochum, still in his dinner jacket, but now with a small scarlet cummerbund, stood over Walker.

  ‘Ah, join us,’ said Walker. ‘This is Dr Jochum, I met him on the train. Dr Millingham, my cabin-mate.’

  ‘We sound like a medical conference,’ said Jochum.

  ‘Oh well,’ said Millingham, ‘if this ship should sink, the world of learning would be set back two hundred years. Let me buy you a cheap drink.’

  ‘No, I came over to honour the arrangement I made with my young friend on the train. I said, Mr Walker, I would introduce you to the young bagpipe ladies.’

  Walker went red and said, ‘Oh, I could hardly . . .’

  ‘But of course, I know them well, you see.’

  ‘You can’t miss a chance like that,’ said Millingham. ‘Go and establish a bridgehead.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Walker. He got up and Jochum put his arm around his shoulder and led him genially across the room. Walker felt blushes spreading all over his body, and it seemed to him as if his collar had popped open. ‘I don’t think I know your first name,’ said Jochum.

  ‘James,’ said Walker shrilly.

  The girls looked up and one said, ‘Hi, Dr Jochum; what’s this?’

  ‘It’s a shy young English friend of mine. His name is James Walker. I will let the ladies introduce themselves.’

  ‘Hi, Jamie,’ said one of the girls.

  Another felt his jacket and said, ‘Harris tweed, or I’m not Perry Mason.’

  Walker said, ‘How do you do?’

  ‘Oh, you Yerpeans, so polite,’ said another of the girls.

  ‘Now you must make him entertain you,’ said Jochum, who was unhooking chairs and bringing them up to the table. Walker sat on one and looked with attentiveness at his knees.

  ‘Hot in here,’ he said after a moment.

  The girl next to him said, ‘You know, I had a teacher in World Lit. talked exactly like you. He couldn’t understand why we couldn’t understand anything he said. The girls used to say, you know, this hall has bad acoustics, or, I’ve been deaf since I was three. They didn’t like to tell him he talked funny.’

  ‘No, quite,’ said Walker.

  ‘What happened to this man?’ asked Jochum, sitting down and lighting a small cigar.

  ‘That was Dr Jeffries, you know,’ said the girl.

  ‘Ah yes,’ said Jochum nodding.

  ‘What did happen?’ asked Walker.

  ‘They didn’t renew his contract,’ said Jochum, blowing cigar smoke blandly.

  ‘He was fired,’ said the girl.

  ‘Because he talked funny?’ asked Walker.

  ‘Oh no,’ said the girl, shocked. ‘That would be Prejudice. No, he didn’t like the course. He kept changing all the books and teaching what he called non-great books in the Great Books Course, because they were better. So they, you know, didn’t keep him on.’

  ‘It seems hard,’ said Walker.

  ‘Vell, we have another pattern of educational system in the United States, Mr Walker, as you vill see,’ said Jochum. ‘It is much easier to obtain a post, and much easier to lose one.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Walker, feeling uneasy.

  ‘Actually this man was a difficult fellow. He once flunked all the students in his course to show them all standards are arbitrary. That offended the administration. And in an American university you can offend everyone except administration and the football coach.’

  Oh, can I last? asked Walker of himself, sweating.

  ‘Of course, he used to date a lot of his students and take them to the racetrack and all,’ said the girl.

  ‘I can see that must be a real temptation,’ said Walker.

  ‘I guess so,’ said the girl. ‘Of course, a lot of Hillesley girls don’t like dating their instructors.’

  ‘Because of their low social prestige,’ said another girl.

  ‘Oh,’ said Walker.

  ‘He looks sad,’ said Jochum.

  On Walker’s other side, a girl who hadn’t so far spoken suddenly tapped him on the lapel. ‘I see you’re in leaf,’ she said.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I see you have this bunch of heather in your buttonhole. Is this some English national holiday?’

  Walker looked at her; she was fair-haired, wore a button-down Oxford shirt like a man’s, and a corduroy top and skirt. A small button pinned to the shirt said I LIKE BACH.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Walker, ‘my . . .’ A sudden access of male cunning interrupted what he was about to say; he reformulated. ‘A friend of mine sent a bunch of heather to the ship. By telegram. It’s amazing what you can do nowadays.’

  ‘Right,’ said the girl. ‘It is, fantastic.’

  Walker cast a quick look around the room. His partner had still not appeared. ‘Would you like to dance?’ he said to the girl who liked Bach. The girl put a crisp into her mouth and then, without saying anything, stood up. Walker led her out on to the floor and opened his arms. She placed them carefully where she wanted them, meanwhile looking at him with cool, appraising eyes. Walker set his one dance-step into motion and they moved about the floor. The three Ivy League men danced by with the French girl.

  ‘Well,’ said the girl, ‘it’s kind of you to pick me out. It must have been quite a decision to have to make. Or was it because I was sitting nearest?’

  ‘I suppose it was because you spoke to me.’

  ‘Who didn’t?’ said the girl.

  ‘I don’t think I caught your name,’ said Walker.

  ‘No, that’s because nobody said it.’

  ‘Is it a secret?’

  ‘No,’ said the girl, after some thought, ‘it’s been bruited around. I’m Julie Snowflake.’

  ‘That’s charming.’

  ‘Now why is it charming?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, it’s just a fresh kind of name.’

  ‘Huh,’ said the girl.

  Walker felt rebuffed and they danced silently for a moment; then the girl said, ‘Are you still with me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, look, do try some more conversation.’

  ‘Well,’ said Walker, rather uneasily, ‘did you have a good vacation?’

  ‘Yes, I had a good vacation. Did you have a good vacation?’

  ‘Am I boring you?’

  ‘No, not exactly. I just don’t quite appreciate this Yerpean politeness. Do you all talk to one another this way?’

  ‘I suppose we do.’

  ‘Do you ever get to know one another?’

  ‘Probably not.’

  ‘Ah, well,’ said Julie, ‘okay, that’s Yerp, I guess.’

  ‘That’s what?’

  ‘Yerp. Yerp where you come from.’

  ‘You mean Europe?’

  ‘Yes, Yerp.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Walker, ‘I’m not European, I’m English.’

  ‘Isn’t England in Yerp?’

  ‘Yes, in a way.’

  ‘Well, then.’

  Walker sneaked another look around the room; hi
s red-haired partner still seemed not to have arrived. He said, ‘What are you studying at Hillesley?’

  ‘I’m an English major.’

  ‘I suppose I should salute.’

  ‘Yok, yok,’ said Miss Snowflake, looking at him coolly. Walker knew he must try harder. ‘Do you find it interesting?’ he asked.

  ‘Well,’ said Miss Snowflake, ‘last year I was popular and nearly flunked, but this year I’m going to shut myself away and really study. This summer I read Dickens and got him out of the way. Now I’m starting in on James. I find him a bit false, you know what I mean? Actually I can’t stand falsity and pretence; it offends me deeply, where I live. Do you read Kierkegaard?’

  ‘Well, I read him a few years back and got him out of the way.’

  Miss Snowflake looked at Walker for the first time, raising her head, the top of which came level with his eyes, to do so.

  ‘Now that’s some kind of a reply,’ she said. ‘Well, you know that passage in Fear and Trembling about dancing? And he talks about two kinds of people?’

  ‘No, I don’t remember it.’

  ‘Well, it’s really very fine. Look it up. I wrote it down on a file-card and thumbtacked it in the john at home, that’s how fine it is. How does it go?’ Miss Snowflake screwed up her young grey eyes. ‘It’s something like this: “Most people live in worldly sorrow and joy, and sit around the walls, and they don’t join in the dance. But the knights of infinity” – this is the bit – “are dancers, and possess elevation. They rise up and fall, and this is no mean pastime, nor ungraceful to behold.” I think it’s marvellous. No mean pastime! Possess elevation!’

  ‘There’s a bit like that in Waugh’s Decline and Fall,’ said Walker.

  ‘But isn’t it good?’ said Miss Snowflake impatiently. ‘The question is, how do you get to be a knight of infinity?’

  ‘Who knows?’ said Walker. ‘I don’t think I do.’

  ‘Or,’ said Miss Snowflake, ‘to rephrase the question, why are Yerpeans so stiff?’

  ‘Sitters by the wall?’

  ‘You’re getting it.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well, I don’t know. Maybe we’ve found our balance. Maybe we think we know what to expect. Maybe we’ve stopped looking.’

  ‘Could be,’ said Miss Snowflake.

  ‘And then,’ said Walker lightly, ‘we realize we’ve missed something, so we come to the States.’

  ‘To become knights of infinity? Well, you know, I don’t think you’re going to make it.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, that’s not fair. Let’s erase it from the record. I’m crazy, I talk too fast.’

  The music stopped and they separated. Walker suddenly realized that he was enjoying himself a great deal and didn’t want to part from Miss Snowflake. He said, ‘They’ve stopped. Look, why don’t we go out on deck? It’s a nice night.’ Miss Snowflake looked at him speculatively. ‘Oh no, thanks,’ she said, ‘I think I’d prefer to stay right here, if you don’t mind, because I’ve been getting pretty low grades in judo. Why don’t we have another dance though? I was just starting to enjoy our conversation.’

  ‘So was I,’ said Walker.

  Jack Wilks set his group in motion again and they began to dance once more. Walker said, ‘Tell me some more about Hillesley.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know that I can invest it with much interest. It’s a very shoe girl’s school in Connecticut where a lot of very expensive girls go.’

  ‘Like you?’

  ‘Yes, well, I guess I’m an expensive girl. Easy, you’re kicking me. But the communal IQ is terrific. It’s been a kind of proof to me that you can be rich and intelligent. A lot of people have questioned that, you know.’

  ‘Have they? I didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, socialists and all. Stick around, you can learn a lot. But conspicuous consumption is frowned on at Hillesley. Like a lot of girls have their own planes, but we don’t allow them on campus. The freshmen come with wardrobes full of mink-collared sweaters and vicuna coats, all that Miami Beach routine, you know, but we soon put them right. Well, for instance, there’s an informal rule among the student body that the only time you can wear a mink coat is going along the corridor to the shower.’

  ‘It sounds very exclusive.’

  ‘Well, maybe, but there are no favours at Hillesley. I can illustrate that. For instance, when there’s a prowler on campus, they turn off all the lights so no one knows who gets raped.’

  ‘That seems very fair,’ said Walker urbanely, ‘does it happen often?’

  ‘Oh, once in a while. But of course there’s lots more to Hillesley life than just getting raped. You know, you have to study as well?’

  ‘An all-round education, then.’

  ‘Exactly, you’ve got it exactly. An all-round education. A lot of the girls are geniuses – but they’re expected to be all-round geniuses. One of the problems of genius is the specialization.’

  ‘Well, I suppose there are a lot of problems with genius.’

  ‘Oh, boy, problems. Well, as you know, I guess, a lot of geniuses – I suppose it is geniuses not genii – are actually psychos. That’s really difficult. All our geniuses have this careful psychological testing so that we don’t have any really extreme types. For instance, if a girl seems unstable, she has to have a letter from her psychiatrist testifying that she won’t commit suicide during semester. In short,’ said Miss Snowflake ironically, ‘we allow some leeway during vacation. Actually I hope you won’t think because I’m describing this to you I’m approving it without reservation, will you?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ said Walker.

  ‘Actually I take a critical attitude towards Hillesley. What about you? What do you think?’

  ‘Well,’ said Walker, ‘I think my view would be that a college like that ought to take some bigger risks with genius. I have a weakness for genius myself.’

  ‘Well, that’s an interesting point of view and I probably agree with it, but just to take the rebuttal position for a minute, you have to protect the name of the school, and then there’s another thing. A lot of Hillesley girls marry really shoe Ivy League men, Yalies with balanced portfolios and unique retirement pensions, you know, and marriage for woman is a destiny. Well, for that kind of destiny you really require all-round development.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Walker, ‘I can see that.’

  ‘Like we have this course on lifting suitcases down from racks without showing our slip,’ said Julie.

  ‘I see, so we have to see Hillesley as a kind of marriage bureau as well.’

  ‘A very high-class one. Well, okay, now why not? No, I guess I can see why not, but you see the point. Boys these days are tricky. I mean, they don’t care if you’ve been ravished sixty times by sailors, which I guess is a major cultural breakthrough, but they do want a girl they can live graciously with, someone they can talk to. A girl with all-round cultural development. And so . . . well, you can be too intelligent.’

  ‘Are you too intelligent?’

  ‘Well, I think you’ve hit it . . . but not the way some girls are. You know, they wear their hair straight, and they’re philosophically opposed to charm and padded bras, and they don’t get any dates and this spurs them on to take their doctorate. I don’t think I’m like that, I don’t think I’m the doctorate type. No, Hillesley’s aim is to produce girls who are mature in all directions. This Yerpean . . . this Englishman we were talking about back there at the table, he used to say that Hillesley girls were just normal American girls, but they worried about it more. That seems about right.’

  ‘It sounds,’ said Walker, ‘more like a way of life than an education.’

  ‘Well, right, and of course the problem is what attitude to take toward it, when they’re trying to help you but maybe you can’t accept it wholesale. When I was a freshman I tried adolescent cynicism, and wore leotards, and joined SANE and all. But that was a dead end. Now I think I’ve attained a, well, cooler and more sophisticated irony. I gues
s it was that you found difficult when we first started conversing.’

  ‘It must have been,’ said Walker.

  ‘Cool without being offensive,’ said Julie. ‘That’s the style.’

  ‘And full of elevation.’

  ‘Right.’

  Looking over Julie’s shoulder, Walker suddenly caught sight of the next couple; it was Dr Millingham, dancing with the red-haired girl. Millingham was facing him, and winked; the girl had her back to Walker. Walker steered Julie round, a complicated manoeuvre, and got behind the cover of two dons twisting with one another. He realized that desperate measures were in order, and said, ‘Look, sure you wouldn’t like to go on deck? I’m getting awfully hot.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Miss Snowflake, looking at him with a firm gaze. ‘You thinking of trying to maul me around a lot?’

  ‘Well, no, certainly not if you don’t want me to.’

  ‘No, I don’t,’ said Miss Snowflake. ‘Well, okay, look, I just have to go down to my cabin and get a coat. Why don’t you wait for me at the top of the stairway? I’ll be right back.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Walker, leading her off the floor. They went out beyond the glass doors, and Miss Snowflake left him and went down the stairs. Walker looked at a map of the Atlantic on which a little wooden ship had been moved to a point somewhere off Land’s End, and also read a notice about the daily competitions and the Fancy Hat Gala. There was also an advice telling him to set his watch back one hour at midnight. ‘Having a nice time?’ said a voice behind him, and there stood the red-haired girl. She was wearing a long shiny blue dress with a halter neck, and black gloves to the elbow. There were patches of powder on her collar-bones. ‘I’m sorry I was late,’ she went on. ‘That old lady caught me and asked me to help her to unpack. Still. I see you found someone to talk to.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Walker.

  ‘Perhaps I’ll see you later,’ said the girl.

 

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