HYMAN: Good. Your wife has a lot of courage, I admire that kind of woman. My wife is similar; I like the type.
GELLBURG: What type you mean?
HYMAN: You know—vigorous. I mean mentally and . . . you know, just generally. Moxie.
GELLBURG: Oh.
HYMAN: Forget it, it was only a remark.
GELLBURG: No, you’re right, I never thought of it, but she is unusually that way.
HYMAN, pause, some prickliness here which he can’t understand: Doctor Sherman’s report . . .
GELLBURG: What’s he say?
HYMAN: I’m getting to it.
GELLBURG: Oh. Beg your pardon.
HYMAN: You’ll have to bear with me . . . may I call you Phillip?
GELLBURG: Certainly.
HYMAN: I don’t express my thoughts very quickly, Phillip.
GELLBURG: Likewise. Go ahead, take your time.
HYMAN: People tend to overestimate the wisdom of physicians so I try to think things through before I speak to a patient.
GELLBURG: I’m glad to hear that.
HYMAN: Aesculapius stuttered, you know—ancient Greek god of medicine. But probably based on a real physician who hesitated about giving advice. Somerset Maugham stammered, studied medicine. Anton Chekhov, great writer, also a doctor, had tuberculosis. Doctors are very often physically defective in some way, that’s why they’re interested in healing.
GELLBURG, impressed: I see.
HYMAN, pause, thinks: I find this Adolf Hitler very disturbing. You been following him in the papers?
GELLBURG: Well yes, but not much. My average day in the office is ten, eleven hours.
HYMAN: They’ve been smashing the Jewish stores in Berlin all week, you know.
GELLBURG: Oh yes, I saw that again yesterday.
HYMAN: Very disturbing. Forcing old men to scrub the sidewalks with toothbrushes. On the Kurfürstendamm, that’s equivalent to Fifth Avenue. Nothing but hoodlums in uniform.
GELLBURG: My wife is very upset about that.
HYMAN: I know, that’s why I mention it. Hesitates. And how about you?
GELLBURG: Of course. It’s a terrible thing. Why do you ask?
HYMAN, a smile: —I don’t know, I got the feeling she may be afraid she’s annoying you when she talks about such things.
GELLBURG: Why? I don’t mind. —She said she’s annoying me?
HYMAN: Not in so many words, but . . .
GELLBURG: I can’t believe she’d say a thing like . . .
HYMAN: Wait a minute, I didn’t say she said it . . .
GELLBURG: She doesn’t annoy me, but what can be done about such things? The thing is, she doesn’t like to hear about the other side of it.
HYMAN: What other side?
GELLBURG: It’s no excuse for what’s happening over there, but German Jews can be pretty . . . you know . . . Pushes up his nose with his forefinger. Not that they’re pushy like the ones from Poland or Russia but a friend of mine’s in the garment industry; these German Jews won’t take an ordinary good job, you know; it’s got to be pretty high up in the firm or they’re insulted. And they can’t even speak English.
HYMAN: Well I guess a lot of them were pretty important over there.
GELLBURG: I know, but they’re supposed to be refugees, aren’t they? With all our unemployment you’d think they’d appreciate a little more. Latest official figure is twelve million unemployed you know, and it’s probably bigger but Roosevelt can’t admit it, after the fortune he’s pouring into WPA and the rest of that welfare mishugas. —But she’s not annoying me, for God’s sake.
HYMAN: . . . I just thought I’d mention it; but it was only a feeling I had . . .
GELLBURG: I’ll tell you right now, I don’t run with the crowd, I see with these eyes, nobody else’s.
HYMAN: I see that. —You’re very unusual— Grinning. —you almost sound like a Republican.
GELLBURG: Why?—the Torah says a Jew has to be a Democrat? I didn’t get where I am by agreeing with everybody.
HYMAN: Well that’s a good thing; you’re independent. Nods, puffs. You know, what mystifies me is that the Germans I knew in Heidelberg . . . I took my M.D. there . . .
GELLBURG: You got along with them.
HYMAN: Some of the finest people I ever met.
GELLBURG: Well there you go.
HYMAN: We had a marvelous student choral group, fantastic voices; Saturday nights, we’d have a few beers and go singing through the streets. . . . People’d applaud from the windows.
GELLBURG: Don’t say.
HYMAN: I simply can’t imagine those people marching into Austria, and now they say Czechoslovakia’s next, and Poland. . . . But fanatics have taken Germany, I guess, and they can be brutal, you know . . .
GELLBURG: Listen, I sympathize with these refugees, but . . .
HYMAN, cutting him off: I had quite a long talk with Sylvia yesterday, I suppose she told you?
GELLBURG, a tensing: Well . . . no, she didn’t mention. What about?
HYMAN, surprised by Sylvia’s omission: . . . Well about her condition, and . . . just in passing . . . your relationship.
GELLBURG, flushing: My relationship?
HYMAN: . . . It was just in passing.
GELLBURG: Why, what’d she say?
HYMAN: Well that you . . . get along very well.
GELLBURG: Oh.
HYMAN, encouragingly, as he sees Gellburg’s small tension: I found her a remarkably well-informed woman. Especially for this neighborhood.
GELLBURG, a pridefully approving nod; relieved that he can speak of her positively: That’s practically why we got together in the first place. I don’t exaggerate, if Sylvia was a man she could have run the Federal Reserve. You could talk to Sylvia like you talk to a man.
HYMAN: I’ll bet.
GELLBURG, a purse-mouthed grin: . . . Not that talking was all we did—but you turn your back on Sylvia and she’s got her nose in a book or a magazine. I mean there’s not one woman in ten around here could even tell you who their Congressman is. And you can throw in the men, too. Pause. So where are we?
HYMAN: Doctor Sherman confirms my diagnosis. I ask you to listen carefully, will you?
GELLBURG, brought up: Of course, that’s why I came.
HYMAN: We can find no physical reason for her inability to walk.
GELLBURG: No physical reason . . .
HYMAN: We are almost certain that this is a psychological condition.
GELLBURG: But she’s numb, she has no feeling in her legs.
HYMAN: Yes. This is what we call an hysterical paralysis. Hysterical doesn’t mean she screams and yells . . .
GELLBURG: Oh, I know. It means like . . . ah . . . Bumbles off.
HYMAN, a flash of umbrage, dislike: Let me explain what it means, okay?—Hysteria comes from the Greek word for the womb because it was thought to be a symptom of female anxiety. Of course it isn’t, but that’s where it comes from. People who are anxious enough or really frightened can imagine they’ve gone blind or deaf, for instance . . . and they really can’t see or hear. It was sometimes called shell-shock during the War.
GELLBURG: You mean . . . you don’t mean she’s . . . crazy.
HYMAN: We’ll have to talk turkey, Phillip. If I’m going to do you any good I’m going to have to ask you some personal questions. Some of them may sound raw, but I’ve only been superficially acquainted with Sylvia’s family and I need to know more . . .
GELLBURG: She says you treated her father . . .
HYMAN: Briefly; a few visits shortly before he passed away. They’re fine people. I hate like hell to see this happen to her, you see what I mean?
GELLBURG: You can tell it to me; is she crazy?
HYMAN: Phillip, are you? Am I? In one way or another, who isn’t crazy? T
he main difference is that our kind of crazy still allows us to walk around and tend to our business. But who knows?—people like us may be the craziest of all.
GELLBURG, scoffing grin: Why!
HYMAN: Because we don’t know we’re nuts, and the other kind does.
GELLBURG: I don’t know about that . . .
HYMAN: Well, it’s neither here nor there.
GELLBURG: I certainly don’t think I’m nuts.
HYMAN: I wasn’t saying that . . .
GELLBURG: What do you mean, then?
HYMAN, grinning: You’re not an easy man to talk to, are you.
GELLBURG: Why? If I don’t understand I have to ask, don’t I?
HYMAN: Yes, you’re right.
GELLBURG: That’s the way I am—they don’t pay me for being easy to talk to.
HYMAN: You’re in . . . real estate?
GELLBURG: I’m head of the Mortgage Department of Brooklyn Guarantee and Trust.
HYMAN: Oh, that’s right, she told me.
GELLBURG: We are the largest lender east of the Mississippi.
HYMAN: Really. Fighting deflation. Well, let me tell you my approach; if possible I’d like to keep her out of that whole psychiatry rigmarole. Not that I’m against it, but I think you get further faster, sometimes, with a little common sense and some plain human sympathy. Can we talk turkey? Tuchas offen tisch, you know any Yiddish?
GELLBURG: Yes, it means get your ass on the table.
HYMAN: Correct. So let’s forget crazy and try to face the facts. We have a strong, healthy woman who has no physical ailment, and suddenly can’t stand on her legs. Why?
He goes silent. Gellburg shifts uneasily.
I don’t mean to embarrass you . . .
GELLBURG, an angry smile: You’re not embarrassing me. —What do you want to know?
HYMAN, sets himself, then launches: In these cases there is often a sexual disability. You have relations, I imagine?
GELLBURG: Relations? Yes, we have relations.
HYMAN, a softening smile: Often?
GELLBURG: What’s that got to do with it?
HYMAN: Sex could be connected. You don’t have to answer . . .
GELLBURG: No-no it’s all right. . . . I would say it depends—maybe twice, three times a week.
HYMAN, seems surprised: Well that’s good. She seems satisfied?
GELLBURG, shrugs; hostilely: I guess she is, sure.
HYMAN: That was a foolish question, forget it.
GELLBURG, flushed: Why, did she mention something about this?
HYMAN: Oh no, it’s just something I thought of later.
GELLBURG: Well, I’m no Rudolph Valentino but I . . .
HYMAN: Rudolph Valentino probably wasn’t either. —What about before she collapsed; was that completely out of the blue or . . .
GELLBURG, relieved to be off the other subject: I tell you, looking back I wonder if something happened when they started putting all the pictures in the paper. About these Nazi carryings-on. I noticed she started . . . staring at them . . . in a very peculiar way. And . . . I don’t know. I think it made her angry or something.
HYMAN: At you.
GELLBURG: Well . . . Nods, agreeing. In general. —Personally I don’t think they should be publishing those kind of pictures.
HYMAN: Why not?
GELLBURG: She scares herself to death with them—three thousand miles away, and what does it accomplish! Except maybe put some fancy new ideas into these anti-Semites walking around New York here.
Slight pause.
HYMAN: Tell me how she collapsed. You were going to the movies . . . ?
GELLBURG, breathing more deeply: Yes. We were just starting down the porch steps and all of a sudden her . . . Difficulty; he breaks off.
HYMAN: I’m sorry but I . . .
GELLBURG: . . . Her legs turned to butter. I couldn’t stand her up. Kept falling around like a rag doll. I had to carry her into the house. And she kept apologizing . . . ! He weeps; recovers. I can’t talk about it.
HYMAN: It’s all right.
GELLBURG: She’s always been such a level-headed woman. Weeping threatens again. I don’t know what to do. She’s my life.
HYMAN: I’ll do my best for her, Phillip, she’s a wonderful woman. —Let’s talk about something else. What do you do exactly?
GELLBURG: I mainly evaluate properties.
HYMAN: Whether to grant a mortgage . . .
GELLBURG: And how big a one and the terms.
HYMAN: How’s the Depression hit you?
GELLBURG: Well, it’s no comparison with ’32 to ’36, let’s say—we were foreclosing left and right in those days. But we’re on our feet and running.
HYMAN: And you head the department . . .
GELLBURG: Above me is only Mr. Case. Stanton Wylie Case; he’s chairman and president. You’re not interested in boat racing.
HYMAN: Why?
GELLBURG: His yacht won the America’s Cup two years ago. For the second time. The Aurora?
HYMAN: Oh yes! I think I read about . . .
GELLBURG: He’s had me aboard twice.
HYMAN: Really.
GELLBURG, the grin: The only Jew ever set foot on that deck.
HYMAN: Don’t say.
GELLBURG: In fact, I’m the only Jew ever worked for Brooklyn Guarantee in their whole history.
HYMAN: That so.
GELLBURG: Oh yes. And they go back to the 1890s. Started right out of accountancy school and moved straight up. They’ve been wonderful to me; it’s a great firm.
A long moment as Hyman stares at Gellburg, who is proudly positioned now, absorbing his poise from the evoked memories of his success. Gradually Gellburg turns to him.
How could this be a mental condition?
HYMAN: It’s unconscious; like . . . well take yourself; I notice you’re all in black. Can I ask you why?
GELLBURG: I’ve worn black since high school.
HYMAN: No particular reason.
GELLBURG, shrugs: Always liked it, that’s all.
HYMAN: Well it’s a similar thing with her; she doesn’t know why she’s doing this, but some very deep, hidden part of her mind is directing her to do it. You don’t agree.
GELLBURG: I don’t know.
HYMAN: You think she knows what she’s doing?
GELLBURG: Well I always liked black for business reasons.
HYMAN: It gives you authority?
GELLBURG: Not exactly authority, but I wanted to look a little older. See, I graduated high school at fifteen and I was only twenty-two when I entered the firm. But I knew what I was doing.
HYMAN: Then you think she’s doing this on purpose?
GELLBURG: —Except she’s numb; nobody can purposely do that, can they?
HYMAN: I don’t think so. —I tell you, Phillip, not really knowing your wife, if you have any idea why she could be doing this to herself . . .
GELLBURG: I told you, I don’t know.
HYMAN: Nothing occurs to you.
GELLBURG, an edge of irritation: I can’t think of anything.
HYMAN: I tell you a funny thing, talking to her, she doesn’t seem all that unhappy.
GELLBURG: Say!—yes, that’s what I mean. That’s exactly what I mean. It’s like she’s almost . . . I don’t know . . . enjoying herself. I mean in a way.
HYMAN: How could that be possible?
GELLBURG: Of course she apologizes for it, and for making it hard for me—you know, like I have to do a lot of the cooking now, and tending to my laundry and so on . . . I even shop for groceries and the butcher . . . and change the sheets . . .
He breaks off with some realization. Hyman doesn’t speak. A long pause.
You mean . . . she’s doing it against me?
HYM
AN: I don’t know, what do you think?
Stares for a long moment, then makes to rise, obviously deeply disturbed.
GELLBURG: I’d better be getting home. Lost in his own thought. I don’t know whether to ask you this or not.
HYMAN: What’s to lose, go ahead.
GELLBURG: My parents were from the old country, you know,—I don’t know if it was in Poland someplace or Russia—but there was this woman who they say was . . . you know . . . gotten into by a . . . like the ghost of a dead person . . .
HYMAN: A dybbuk.
GELLBURG: That’s it. And it made her lose her mind and so forth. —You believe in that? They had to get a rabbi to pray it out of her body. But you think that’s possible?
HYMAN: Do I think so? No. Do you?
GELLBURG: Oh no. It just crossed my mind.
HYMAN: Well I wouldn’t know how to pray it out of her, so . . .
GELLBURG: Be straight with me—is she going to come out of this?
HYMAN: Well, let’s talk again after I see her tomorrow. Maybe I should tell you . . . I have this unconventional approach to illness, Phillip. Especially where the mental element is involved. I believe we get sick in twos and threes and fours, not alone as individuals. You follow me? I want you to do me a favor, will you?
GELLBURG: What’s that.
HYMAN: You won’t be offended, okay?
GELLBURG, tensely: Why should I be offended?
HYMAN: I’d like you to give her a lot of loving. Fixing Gellburg in his gaze. Can you? It’s important now.
GELLBURG: Say, you’re not blaming this on me, are you?
HYMAN: What’s the good of blame? —From here on out, tuchas offen tisch, okay? And Phillip?
GELLBURG: Yes?
HYMAN, a light chuckle: Try not to let yourself get mad.
Gellburg turns and goes out. Hyman returns to his desk, makes some notes. Margaret enters.
MARGARET: That’s one miserable little pisser.
He writes, doesn’t look up.
He’s a dictator, you know. I was just remembering when I went to the grandmother’s funeral? He stands outside the funeral parlor and decides who’s going to sit with who in the limousines for the cemetery. “You sit with him, you sit with her . . .” And they obey him like he owned the funeral!
HYMAN: Did you find out what’s playing?
The Penguin Arthur Miller Page 123