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Portnoy'sComplaint(port/'noizkam-plant')n.[afterAlexanderPortnoy(1933 )] A disorder in which strongly-felt ethical and altruistic impulses areperpetually warring with extreme sexual longings, often of a perverse nature.Spielvogelsays:'Actsofexhibitionism,voyeurism,fetishism,auto-eroticismandoral coitus are plentiful; as a consequence of the patient's morality, however,neither fantasy nor act issues in genuine sexual gratification, but rather inoverridingfeelingsofshameandthedreadofretribution,particularlyintheformof castration.' (Spielvogel,O.ThePuzzledPenis, InternationaleZeitschrift furPsychoanalyse)Vol.XXIVp.909.)ItisbelievedbySpielvogelthatmanyofthesymptomscanbetracedtothebondsobtaininginthemother-childrelationship.

THEMOSTUNFORGETTABLE

CHARACTERI'VEMET

ShewassodeeplyimbeddedinmyconsciousnessthatforthefirstyearofschoolIseemtohavebelievedthateachofmyteacherswasmymotherindisguise.Assoonasthelastbellhadsounded,Iwouldrushoffforhome,wonderingasIranif I could possibly make it to our apartment before she had succeeded intransforming herself. Invariably she was already in the kitchen by the time Iarrived,andsettingoutmymilkandcookies.Insteadofcausingmetogiveupmydelusions, however, the featmerely intensifiedmy respect for her powers.And then it was always a relief not to have caught her between incarnationsanyway-even if Inever stopped trying; Iknew thatmy father and sisterwereinnocentofmymother'srealnature,andtheburdenofbetrayalthatIimaginedwouldfall tomeif Ievercameuponherunawareswasmore thanIwantedtobearattheageoffive.IthinkIevenfearedthatImighthavetobedoneawaywith were I to catch sight of her flying in from school through the bedroomwindow,ormakingherselfemerge, limbby limb,outofan invisible stateandintoherapron.

Of course, when she asked me to tell her all about my day atkindergarten, I did so scrupulously. I didn't pretend to understand all theimplicationsof her ubiquity, but that it had todowith findingout thekindoflittle boy I waswhen I thought shewasn't around-that was indisputable. Oneconsequenceofthisfantasy,whichsurvived(inthisparticularform)intothefirstgrade,wasthatseeingasIhadnochoice,Ibecamehonest.

Ah, andbrilliant.Ofmysallow,overweightolder sister,mymotherwould say (inHannah's presence, of course: honestywas her policy too),Thechild is no genius, but then we don't ask the impossible. God bless her, sheworkshard,sheappliesherselftoherlimits,andsowhatevershegetsisallright.Ofme,theheirtoherlongEgyptiannoseandcleverbabblingmouth,ofmemymother would say, with characteristic restraint, This bonditt?He doesn't evenhavetoopenabook-'A'ineverything.AlbertEinsteintheSecond!

Andhowdidmyfathertakeallthis?Hedrank-ofcourse,notwhiskeylikeagoy,butmineraloilandmilkofmagnesia;andchewedonEx-Lax;andateAll-Branmorningandnight;anddownedmixeddriedfruitsbythepoundbag.He suffered- did he suffer! - from constipation. Her ubiquity and hisconstipation, my mother flying in through the bedroom window, my fatherreadingtheeveningpaperwithasuppositoryuphisass...these,Doctor,aretheearliestimpressionsIhaveofmyparents,oftheirattributesandsecrets.Heusedtobrewdriedsenna leaves ina saucepan,and that,alongwith thesuppositorymelting invisibly in his rectum, comprised his witchcraft: brewing those veingreen leaves, stirring with a spoon the evil-smelling liquid, then carefullypouringitintoastrainer,andhenceintohisblockadedbody,throughthatwearyandafflictedexpressiononhisface.Andthenhunchedsilentlyabovetheemptyglass,asthoughlisteningfordistantthunder,heawaitsthemiracle...AsalittleboyIsometimessatinthekitchenandwaitedwithhim.Butthemiraclenevercame,notatleastasweimaginedandprayeditwould,asaliftingofthesentence, a total deliverance from the plague. I remember that when theyannouncedover the radio theexplosionof the first atombomb,he saidaloud,Maybe thatwoulddo the job.But all catharseswere invain for thatman: hiskishkas were gripped by the iron hand of outrage and frustration. Among hisothermisfortunes,Iwashiswife'sfavorite.

Tomakelifeharder,helovedmehimself.Hetoosawinmethefamily'sopportunity to be as good as anybody, our chance to win honor and respect-thoughwhenIwassmallthewayhechosetotalkofhisambitionsformewasmostlyintermsofmoney.Don'tbedumblikeyourfather,hewouldsay,jokingwiththelittleboyonhislap,don'tmarrybeautiful,don'tmarrylove-marryrich.No,no,hedidn't likebeinglookeddownupononebit.Likeadogheworked-only for a future that he wasn't slated to have. Nobody ever really gave himsatisfaction,returncommensuratewithgoodsdelivered-notmymother,notme,not even my loving sister, whose husband he still considers a Communist(thoughhe is a partner today in a profitable soft-drinkbusiness, andownshis

ownhome inWestOrange).Andsurelynot thatbillion-dollarProtestantoutfit(orinstitution,astheyprefertothinkofthemselves)bywhomhewasexploitedto the full. 'TheMostBenevolentFinancial Institution inAmerica I remembermyfatherannouncing,whenhetookmeforthefirsttimetoseehislittlesquarearea of desk and chair in the vast offices of Boston Northeastern Life. Yes,before his son he spoke with pride of The Company ; no sense demeaninghimselfbyknockingtheminpublic-afterall, theyhadpaidhimawageduringtheDepression; theygavehimstationerywithhisownnameprintedbeneathapictureoftheMayflower,theirinsignia(andbyextensionhis,haha);andeveryspring,inthefullnessoftheirbenevolence,theysenthimandmymotherforahotsy-totsyfreeweekendinAtlanticCity,toafancygoyischehotelnoless,there(alongwithalltheotherinsuranceagentsintheMiddleAtlanticstateswhohadexceededtheA.E.S.,theirannualexpectationofsales)tobeintimidatedbythedeskclerk,thewaiter,thebellboy,nottomentionthepuzzledpayingguests.

Also,hebelievedpassionatelyinwhathewasselling,yetanothersourceofanguishanddrainuponhisenergies.

Hewasn'tlustsavinghisownsoulwhenhedonnedhiscoatandhatafterdinnerandwentoutagaintoresumehiswork-no,itwasalsotosavesomepoorson of a bitch on the brink of letting his insurance policy lapse, and thusendangeringhis family's security in the eventof a rainyday.Alex,heused toexplaintome,amanhasgottohaveanumbrellaforarainyday.Youdon'tleaveawifeandachildoutintherainwithoutanumbrella!Andthoughtome,atfiveand six years of age, what he said made perfect, even moving, sense, thatapparentlywasnotalwaysthereceptionhisrainy-dayspeechreceivedfromthecallow Poles, and violent Irishmen, and illiterate Negroes who lived in theimpoverished districts that had been given him to canvass by The MostBenevolentFinancialInstitutioninAmerica.

Theylaughedathim,downintheslums.Theydidn'tlisten.Theyheardhim knock, and throwing their empties against the door, called out,Go away,nobodyhome.Theyset theirdogs tosink their teeth intohispersistent Jewishass. And still, over the years, hemanaged to accumulate from The Companyenoughplaques and scrolls andmedals honoringhis salesmanship to cover anentire wall of the long windowless hallway where our Passover dishes werestoredincartonsandourOrientalrugslaymummifiedintheirthickwrappingsoftarpaperoverthesummer.Ifhesqueezedbloodfromastone,wouldn'tTheCompanyrewardhimwithamiracleofitsown?MightnotThePresidentupin

TheHomeOfficegetwindofhisaccomplishmentandturnhimovernightfromanagentatfivethousandayeartoadistrictmanageratfifteen?Butwheretheyhadhim theykept him.Who elsewouldwork suchbarren territorywith suchincredibleresults?Moreover,therehadnotbeenaJewishmanagerintheentirehistoryofBostonNortheastern(NotQuiteOurClass,Dear,astheyusedtosayon the Mayflower), and my father, with his eighth-grade education, wasn'texactlysuitedtobetheJackieRobinsonoftheinsurancebusiness.

N.EverettLindabury,BostonNortheastern'spresident,hadhispicturehanginginourhallway.Theframedphotographhadbeenawardedtomyfatherafter he had sold his firstmillion dollars' worth of insurance, ormaybe that'swhatcameafteryouhittheten-millionmark.Mr.Lindabury,'TheHomeOffice.. . my father made it sound to me like Roosevelt in the White House inWashington . . . and all the while how he hated their guts, Lindabury'sparticularly,withhiscorn-silkhairandhiscrispNewEnglandspeech,thesonsinHarvardCollegeandthedaughtersinfinishingschool,ohthewholepackofthemupthereinMassachusetts,shkotzimfox-hunting!playingpolo!(solheardhimonenight,bellowingbehindhisbedroomdoor)-andthuskeepinghim,yousee,frombeingaherointheeyesofhiswifeandchildren.Whatwrath!Whatfury!Andtherewasreallynoonetounleashiton-excepthimself.Whycan't Imovemybowels-I'muptomyassinprunes!WhydoIhavetheseheadaches!Wherearemyglasses!Whotookmyhat!

Inthatferociousandself-annihilatingwayinwhichsomanyJewishmenofhisgeneration served their families,my father servedmymother,my sisterHannah,butparticularlyme.Wherehehadbeen imprisoned, Iwould fly: thatwas his dream. Mine was its corollary: in my liberation would be his- fromignorance,fromexploitation,fromanonymity.Tothisdayourdestiniesremainscrambledtogetherinmyimagination,andtherearestilltoomanytimeswhen,upon reading in some book a passage that impresses me with its logic or itswisdom, instantly, involuntarily, I think, Ifonlyhecould read this.Yes!Read,andunderstand-!Stillhoping,yousee,stillif-onlying,attheageofthirty-three. . . Back in my freshman year of college, when I was even more the sonstrugglingtomakethefatherunderstand-backwhenitseemedthatitwaseitherhisunderstandingorhislifeIrememberthatItorethesubscriptionblankoutofone of those intellectual journals I had myself just begun to discover in thecollege library, filled in his name and our home address, and sent off ananonymousgiftsubscription.ButwhenIcamesullenlyhomeatChristmastimetovisit andcondemn, thePartisanReviewwasnowhere tobe found.Colliers,

Hygeia, Look, but where was his Partisan Review? Thrown out unopened- Ithoughtinmyarroganceandheartbreak-discardedunread,consideredjunk-mailbythisschmuck,thismoron,thisPhilistinefatherofmine!

Iremember-togobackevenfurtherinthishistoryofdisenchantment-Iremember one Sunday morning pitching a baseball at my father, and thenwaitinginvaintoseeitgoflyingoff,highabovemyhead.Iameight,andformybirthdayhavereceivedmyfirstmittandhardball,andaregulationbatthatIhaven'teven thestrength toswingall thewayaround.Myfatherhasbeenoutsinceearlymorninginhishat,coat,bowtie,andblackshoes,carryingunderhisarmthemassiveblackcollectionbookthat tellswhoowesMr.Lindaburyhowmuch. He descends into the colored neighborhood each and every Sundaymorningbecause,ashetellsme,thatisthebesttimetocatchthoseunwillingtoforkoverthetenorfifteenmeaslycentsnecessarytomeettheirweeklypremiumpayments.He lurksaboutwhere thehusbandssitout in thesunshine, trying toextractafewthindimesfromthembeforetheyhavedrunkthemselvessenselessontheirbottlesofMorganDaviswine;heemergesfromalleywayslikeashottocatchbetweenhomeandchurchthepiouscleaningladies,whoareoff inotherpeople'shousesduringthedaylighthoursoftheweek,andinhidingfromhimonweekdaynights.Uh--oh,someonecries,Mr.InsuranceManhere!andeventhechildrenrunforcover-thechildren,hesaysindisgust,sotellme,whathopeisthere for these niggers' ever improving their lot? How will they ever liftthemselves if they ain't even able to grasp the importance of life insurance?Don't they give a single crap for the loved ones they leave behind? Becausethey'sallgoingtodietoo,youknow-oh,hesaysangrily, 'theyshe'is!'Please,whatkindofmanis it,whocanthinkto leavechildrenout in therainwithoutevenadecentumbrellaforprotection!

Weareonthebigdirtfieldbackofmyschool.Hesetshiscollectionbookontheground,andstepsuptotheplateinhiscoatandhisbrownfedora.Hewearssquaresteel-rimmedspectacles,andhishair(whichnowIwear) isawildbushthecolorandtextureofsteelwool;andthoseteeth,whichsitallnightlonginaglassinthebathroomsmilingatthetoiletbowl,nowsmileoutatme,hisbeloved,hisfleshandhisblood,thelittleboyuponwhoseheadnorainshalleverfall.Okay,BigShotBallplayer,hesays,andgraspsmynewregulationbatsomewherenearthemiddle-andtomyastonishment,withhislefthandwherehisrighthandshouldbe.Iamsuddenlyovercomewithsuchsadness:Iwanttotellhim,Hey,yourhandsarewrong,butamunableto,forfearImightbegintocry-orhemight!Comeon.BigShot, throw theball, he calls, and so Ido- andof

coursediscoverthatontopofalltheotherthingsIamjustbeginningtosuspectaboutmyfather,heisn'tKingKongCharlieKellereither.

Someumbrella.

Itwasmymotherwhocouldaccomplishanything,whoherselfhadtoadmit that itmightevenbe that shewasactually toogood.Andcoulda smallchildwithmyintelligence,withmypowersofobservation,doubtthat thiswasso?Shecouldmakejello,forinstance,withslicedpeacheshanginginit,peachesjustsuspendedthere,indefianceofthelawofgravity.Shecouldbakeacakethattasted like abanana.Weeping, suffering, shegratedheownhorseradish ratherthanbuythepishachs theysoldinabottleatthedelicatessen.Shewatchedthebutcher,assheputit,likeahawk,tobecertainthathedidnotforgettoputherchopped meat through the kosher grinder. She would telephone all the otherwomeninthebuildingdryingclothesonthebacklines-calledeventhedivorcedgoyonthetopflooronemagnanimousday-totellthemrush,takeinthelaundry,adropofrainhadfallenonourwindowpane.Whatradaronthatwoman!Andthis is before radar! The energy on her! The thoroughness! For mistakes shecheckedmysums;forholes,mysocks;fordirt,mynails,myneck,everyseamand crease ofmy body. She even dredges the furthest recesses ofmy ears bypouringcoldperoxideintomyhead.Ittinglesandpopslikeanearfulofgingerale,andbringstothesurface,inbitsandpieces,thehiddenstoresofyellowwax,whichcanapparentlyendangeraperson'shearing.Amedicalprocedurelikethis(crackpotthoughitmaybe)takestime,ofcourse;ittakeseffort,tobesure-butwhere health and cleanliness are concerned, germs and bodily secretions, shewillnotspareherselfandsacrificeothers.Shelightscandlesforthedead-othersinvariably forget, she religiously remembers, and without even the aid of anotationonthecalendar.Devotionisjustinherblood.Sheseemstobetheonlyone, she says,whowhenshegoes to thecemeteryhas thecommonsense, theordinarycommondecency, toclear theweedsfromthegravesofourrelatives.Thefirstbrightdayofspring,andshehasmothproofedeverythingwoolinthehouse, rolled and bound the rugs, and dragged them off tomy father's trophyroom.Sheisneverashamedofherhouse:astrangercouldwalkinandopenanycloset, any drawer, and shewould have nothing to be ashamed of.You couldeveneatoffherbathroomfloor,ifthatshouldeverbecomenecessary.Whensheloses at mah-jongg she takes it like a sport, not-like-the-others-whose-names-she-could-mention-but-she-won't-not-even-Tilly-Hochman-it's-too-petty-to-even- talk-about-lets-just-forget-she-even-brought -it- up. She sews, she knits,shedarns-sheironsbettereventhantheschvartze, towhom,ofallherfriends

who each possess a piece of this grinning childish black old lady's hide, shealoneisgood.I'mtheonlyonewho'sgoodtoher.I'mtheonlyonewhogiveshera whole can of tuna for lunch, and Im not talking dreck, either, Im talkingChickenoftheSea,Alex.I'msorry,Ican'tbeastingyperson.Excuseme,butIcan't livelikethat,evenif it is2for49EstherWasserbergleavestwenty-fivecents in nickels around the house when Dorothy comes, and counts upafterwards to see it's all there. Maybe I'm too good, she whispers to me,meanwhile running scaldingwaterover thedish fromwhich the cleaning ladyhas justeatenher lunch,alone likea leper,but Icouldn'tdoa thing like that.OnceDorothychancedtocomebackintothekitchenwhilemymotherwasstillstanding over the faucetmarkedH, sending torrents downupon the knife andforkthathadpassedbetweentheschvartze'sthickpinklips.Oh,youknowhowharditistogetmayonnaiseoffsilverwarethesedays,Dorothy,saysmynimble-tonguedmother-andthus,shetellsmelater,byherquickthinking,hasmanagedtosparethecoloredwoman'sfeelings.

WhenIambadIamlockedoutoftheapartment.Istandat thedoorhammeringandhammeringuntilIswearIwillturnoveranewleaf.Butwhatisit I have done? I shine my shoes every evening on a sheet of last night'snewspaper laid carefully over the linoleum; afterward I never fail to turnsecurelythelidonthetinofpolish,andtoreturnalltheequipmenttowhereitbelongs. I roll the toothpaste tube fromthebottom, Ibrushmy teeth incirclesandneverupanddown,IsayThankyou,IsayYou'rewelcome,IsayIbegyourpardon,andMayI.WhenHannahisilloroutbeforesupperwithherbluetincancollectingfortheJewishNationalFund,Ivoluntarilyandoutofmyturnsetthetable,rememberingalwaysknifeandspoonontheright,forkontheleft,andnapkin to the left of the fork and folded into a triangle. I would never eatmilchiksoffaflaishedigehdish,never,never,never.Nonetheless,thereisayearor so in my life when not a month goes by that I don't do something soinexcusable that Iam told topackabagand leave.Butwhatcould itpossiblybe?Mother, it's me, the little boywho spendswhole nights before schoolbeginsbeautifullyletteringinOldEnglishscriptthenamesofhissubjectsonhiscoloredcoursedividers,whopatientlyfastensreinforcementstoaterm'sworthofthree-ringedpaper,linedandunlinedboth.Icarryacombandacleanhankie;neverdomyknickerstockingsdragatmyshoes,Iseetothat;myhomeworkiscompleted weeks in advance of the assignment- let's face it, Ma, I am thesmartest and neatest little boy in the history of my school! Teachers (as youknow,astheyhave toldyou)gohomehappyto theirhusbandsbecauseofme.SowhatisitIhavedone?Willsomeonewiththeanswertothatquestionplease

stand up! I am so awful she will not haveme in her house aminute longer.When I once called my sister a cocky-doody, my mouth was immediatelywashedwithacakeofbrownlaundrysoap;thisIunderstand.Butbanishment?WhatcanIpossiblyhavedone!

Becausesheisgoodshewillpackalunchformetotakealong,butthenoutIgo,inmycoatandmygaloshes,andwhathappensisnotherbusiness.

Okay,Isay,ifthat'showyoufeel!(ForIhavethetasteformelodramatoo-Iamnotinthisfamilyfornothing.)Idon'tneedabagoflunch!Idon'tneedanything!

Idon'tloveyouanymore,notalittleboywhobehaveslikeyoudo.I'lllive alone here with Daddy and Hannah, says my mother (a master really atphrasingthingsjusttherightwaytokillyou).Hannahcansetupthemah-jonggtilesfortheladiesonTuesdaynight.Wewon'tbeneedingyouanymore.

Whocares!AndoutthedoorIgo,intothelongdimhallway.Whocares!Iwillsellnewspapersonthestreetsinmybarefeet.IwillridewhereIwantonfreightcarsandsleepinopenfields,Ithink-andthenitisenoughformetoseetheemptymilkbottlesstandingbyourwelcomemat,fortheimmensityofallIhavelosttocomebreakingovermyhead.Ihateyou!Iholler,kickingagaloshatthedoor;youstink!Tothisfilth,tothisheresyboomingthroughthecorridorsoftheapartmentbuildingwheresheisvyingwithtwentyotherJewishwomentobe thepatronsaintofself-sacrifice,mymotherhasnochoicebut to throw thedouble-lockonourdoor.ThisiswhenIstarttohammertobeletin.Idroptothedoormat tobegforgivenessformysin(whichiswhatagain?)andpromisehernothingbutperfectionfortherestofourlives,whichatthattimeIbelievewillbeendless.

ThentherearethenightsIwillnoteat.Mysister,whoisfouryearsmysenior,assuresme thatwhat I remember is fact: Iwouldrefuse toeat,andmymotherwouldfindherselfunabletosubmittosuchwillfulness-andsuchidiocy.Andunabletoformyowngood.Sheisonlyaskingmetodosomethingformyown good- and still I say no?Wouldn't she giveme the food out of her ownmouth,don'tIknowthatbynow?

ButIdon'twantthefoodfromhermouth.Idon'tevenwantthefoodfrommyplate-that'sthepoint.

Please!achildwithmypotential!myaccomplishments!myfuture!-allthegiftsGodhaslavisheduponme,ofbeauty,ofbrains,amItobeallowedtothinkIcanjuststarvemyselftodeathfornogoodreasonintheworld?

DoIwantpeopletolookdownonaskinnylittleboyallmylife,ortolookuptoaman?

DoIwanttobepushedaroundandmadefunof,doIwanttobeskinandbones that people can knock over with a sneeze, or do I want to commandrespect?

WhichdoIwanttobewhenIgrowup,weakorstrong,asuccessorafailure,amanoramouse?

Ijustdon'twanttoeat,Ianswer.

Somymothersitsdowninachairbesidemewithalongbreadknifeinherhand. It ismadeof stainless steel, andhas little sawlike teeth.Whichdo Iwanttobe,weakorstrong,amanoramouse?

Doctor,why,whyohwhyohwhyohwhydoesamotherpullaknifeonherownson?Iamsix,sevenyearsold,howdoIknowshereallywouldn'tuseit? What am I supposed to do, try bluffing her out, at seven? I have nocomplicated sense of strategy, for Christ's sake- I probably don't even weighsixtypoundsyet!Someonewavesaknifeinmydirection,Ibelievethereisanintention lurking somewhere to draw my blood! Only why?What can shepossiblybethinkinginherbrain?Howcrazycanshepossiblybe?Supposeshehad let me win- what would have been lost?Why a knife, why the threat ofmurder,whyissuchtotalandannihilatingvictorynecessary-whenonlythedaybeforeshesetdownherironontheironingboardandapplaudedasIstormedaround the kitchen rehearsing my role as Christopher Columbus in the third-gradeproductionofLandHo!Iamthestaractorofmyclass,theycannotputaplay on without me. Oh, once they tried, when I had my bronchitis, but myteacher laterconfidedinmymother that ithadbeendecidedlysecond-rate.Ohhow, how can she spend such glorious afternoons in that kitchen, polishingsilver,choppingliver,threadingpewelasticinthewaistbandofmylittlejockeyshorts- and feedingme all the whilemy cues from themimeographed script,playingQueen Isabella tomyColumbus,BetsyRoss tomyWashington,Mrs.PasteurtomyLouis-howcansherisewithmeonthecrestofmygeniusduring

thoseduskybeautifulhoursafterschool,andthenatnight,becauseIwillnoteatsomestringbeansandabakedpotato,pointabreadknifeatmyheart?

Andwhydoesn'tmyfatherstopher?

WHACKINGOFF

Thencameadolescence-halfmywaking lifespent lockedbehind thebathroomdoor,firingmywaddownthetoiletbowl,orintothesoiledclothesinthelaundryhamper,orsplat,upagainstthemedicine-chestmirror,beforewhichIstoodinmydroppeddrawerssoIcouldseehowitlookedcomingout.OrelseIwasdoubledovermyflying fist, eyespressedclosedbutmouthwideopen, totake that sticky sauce of buttermilk andClorox onmy own tongue and teeth-though not infrequently, in my blindness and ecstasy, I got it all in thepompadour, like a blast of Wildroot Cream Oil. Through a world of mattedhandkerchiefsandcrumpledKleenexandstainedpajamas,Imovedmyrawandswollenpenis,perpetuallyindreadthatmyloathsomenesswouldbediscoveredbysomeonestealinguponmejustasIwas in thefrenzyofdroppingmyload.Nevertheless,Iwaswhollyincapableofkeepingmypawsfrommydongonceitstartedtheclimbupmybelly.InthemiddleofaclassIwouldraiseahandtobeexcused, rushdownthecorridor to the lavatory,andwith tenor fifteensavagestrokes, beat off standing up into a urinal. At the Saturday afternoonmovie Iwouldleavemyfriendstogoofftothecandymachine-andwindupinadistantbalconyseat,squirtingmyseedintotheemptywrapperfromaMoundsbar.Onan outing of our family association, I once cored an apple, saw to myastonishment(andwiththeaidofmyobsession)whatitlookedlike,andranoffintothewoodstofallupontheorificeofthefruit,pretendingthatthecoolandmealy hole was actually between the legs of thatmythical beingwho alwayscalledmeBigBoywhenshepleadedforwhatnogirlinallrecordedhistoryhadeverhad.Ohshoveitinme,BigBoy,criedthecoredapplethatIbangedsillyonthatpicnic.BigBoy,BigBoy,ohgivemeallyou'vegot,beggedtheemptymilkbottle that Ikepthidden inourstoragebin in thebasement, todrivewildafterschool with my vaselined upright. Come, Big Boy, come, screamed themaddenedpieceof liver that, inmyown insanity, I boughtoneafternoonat abutchershopand,believeitornot,violatedbehindabillboardonthewaytoabarmitzvahlesson.

Itwasattheendofmyfreshmanyearofhighschool-andfreshmanyearofmasturbating-that Idiscoveredon theundersideofmypenis, justwhere the

shaftmeets thehead,a littlediscoloreddot thathassincebeendiagnosedasafreckle.Cancer. Ihadgivenmyselfcancer.All thatpullingand tuggingatmyown flesh, all that friction, had given me an incurable disease. And not yetfourteen! In bed at night the tears rolled frommy eyes.No! I sobbed. I don'twant to die! Please-no! But then, because I would very shortly be a corpseanyway, I went ahead as usual and jerked off into my sock. I had taken tocarryingthedirtysocksintobedwithmeatnightsoastobeabletouseoneasareceptacleuponretiring,andtheotheruponawakening.

IfonlyIcouldcutdowntoonehand-jobaday,orholdthelineattwo,oreventhree!Butwiththeprospectofoblivionbeforeme,Iactuallybegantosetnewrecordsformyself.Beforemeals.Aftermeals.Duringmeals.Jumpingupfromthedinnertable,Itragicallyclutchatmybelly-diarrhea!Icry,Ihavebeenstrickenwithdiarrhea!-andoncebehindthelockedbathroomdoor,slipovermyheadapairofunderpants that Ihavestolen frommysister'sdresserandcarryrolledinahandkerchiefinmypocket.Sogalvanicistheeffectofcottonpantiesagainstmymouth- so galvanic is theword panties - that the trajectory ofmyejaculationreachesstartlingnewheights:leavingmyjointlikearocketitmakesrightforthelightbulboverhead,wheretomywondermentandhorror,ithitsandithangs.WildlyinthefirstmomentIcovermyhead,expectinganexplosionofglass, a burst of flames- disaster, you see, is never far from my mind. ThenquietlyasIcanIclimbtheradiatorandremovethesizzlinggobwithawadoftoiletpaper. Ibeginascrupuloussearchof theshowercurtain, the tub, the tilefloor,thefourtooth-brushes-Godforbid!-andjustasIamabouttounlockthedoor,imaginingIhavecoveredmytracks,myheartlurchesatthesightofwhatishanginglikesnottothetoeofmyshoe.IamtheRaskolnikovofjerkingoff-thestickyevidenceiseverywhere!Is itonmycuffstoo?inmyhair?myear?AllthisIwonderevenasIcomebacktothekitchentable,scowlingandcranky,to grumble self-righteously atmy fatherwhen he opens hismouth full of redjelloandsays,Idon'tunderstandwhatyouhavetolockthedoorabout.Thattomeisbeyondcomprehension.Whatisthis,ahomeoraGrandCentralstation?...privacy...ahumanbeing...aroundherenever,Ireply,thenpushasidemydesserttoscream,Idon'tfeelwell-willeverybodyleavemealone?

Afterdessert-whichIfinishbecauseIhappentolikejello, evenifIdetestthem-afterdessertIambackinthebathroomagain.Iburrowthroughtheweek's laundryuntil Iuncoveroneofmysister'ssoiledbrassieres. Istringoneshoulderstrapovertheknobofthebathroomdoorandtheotherontheknobofthelinencloset:ascarecrowtobringonmoredreams.Ohbeatit,BigBoy,beat

ittoared-hotpulp-soIambeingurgedbythelittlecupsofHannah'sbrassiere,whenarolled-upnewspapersmacksatthedoor.Andsendsmeandmyhandfulaninchoffthetoiletseat.-Comeon,givesomebodyelseacrackatthatbowl,willyou?myfathersays.Ihaven'tmovedmybowelsinaweek.

Irecovermyequilibrium,asismytalent,withaburstofhurtfeelings.Ihave a terrible case of diarrhea!Doesn't thatmean anything to anyone in thishouse?- in themeantimeresumingthestroke, indeedquickeningthe tempoasmycancerousorganmiraculouslybeginstoquiveragainfromtheinsideout.

ThenHannah'sbrassierebeginstomove.Toswingtoandfro!Iveilmyeyes, and behold!- Lenore Lapidus! who has the biggest pair in my class,running for the bus after school, her great untouchable load shiftingweightilyinside her blouse, oh I urge them up from their cups, and over, LENORELAPIDUS'S ACTUAL TITS, and realize in the same split second that mymotherisvigorouslyshakingthedoorknob.OfthedoorIhavefinallyforgottentolock!Iknewitwouldhappenoneday!Caught!Asgoodasdead!

Openup,Alex.Iwantyoutoopenupthisinstant.

It'slocked,I'mnotcaught!AndIseefromwhat'saliveinmyhandthatI'mnotquitedeadyeteither.Beatonthen!beaton!Lickme,BigBoy-lickmeagoodhotlick!I'mLenoreLapidus'sbigfatred-hotbrassiere!

Alex,Iwantananswerfromyou.DidyoueatFrenchfriesafterschool?Isthatwhyyou'resicklikethis?

Nuhhh,nuhhh.

Alex,areyouinpain?Doyouwantmetocallthedoctor?Areyouinpain,oraren'tyou?Iwanttoknowexactlywhereithurts.Answerme.

Yuhh,yuhhh-''

Alex,Idon'twantyoutoflushthetoilet,saysmymothersternly.Iwanttoseewhatyou'vedoneinthere.Idon'tlikethesoundofthisatall.

And me, says my father, touched as he always was by myaccomplishments-asmuchaweasenvy-Ihaven'tmovedmybowelsinaweek,just as I lurch from my perch on the toilet seat, and with the whimper of a

whipped animal, deliver three drops of something barely viscous into the tinypieceofclothwheremyflat-chestedeighteen-year-oldsisterhaslaidhernipples,suchastheyare.Itismyfourthorgasmoftheday.WhenwillIbegintocomeblood?

Getinhere,please,you,saysmymother.WhydidyouflushthetoiletwhenItoldyounotto?

Iforgot.

Whatwasintherethatyouweresofasttoflushit?

Diarrhea.

Wasitmostlyliquidorwasitmostlypoopie?

Idon'tlook!Ididn'tlook!Stopsayingpoopietome-I'minhighschool!

Oh,don'tyoushoutatme,Alex.I'mnottheonewhogaveyoudiarrhea,Iassure you. If all you ate was what you were fed at home, you wouldn't berunningtothebathroomfiftytimesaday.Hannahtellsmewhatyou'redoing,sodon'tthinkIdon'tknow.

She'smissedtheunderpants!I'vebeencaught!Oh,letmebedead!I'djustassoon!

Yeah,whatdoIdo...?

YougotoHarold'sHotDogandChazeraiPalaceafterschoolandyoueatFrenchfrieswithMelvinWeiner.Don'tyou?Don'tlietomeeither.DoyouordoyounotstuffyourselfwithFrenchfriesandketchuponHawthorneAvenueafterschool?ack,comeinhere,Iwantyoutohearthis,shecallstomyfather,nowoccupyingthebathroom.

Look,I'mtryingtomovemybowels,hereplies.Don'tIhaveenoughtrouble as it is without people screaming atmewhen I'm trying tomovemybowels?

Youknowwhatyoursondoesafterschool,theAstudent,whohisownmothercan'tsaypoopietoanymore,he'ssuchagrown-up?Whatdoyouthink

yourgrown-upsondoeswhennobodyiswatchinghim?

CanIpleasebeleftalone,please?criesmyfather.CanIhavealittlepeace,please,soIcangetsomethingaccomplishedinhere?

Justwaittillyourfatherhearswhatyoudo,indefianceofeveryhealthhabittherecouldpossiblybe.Alex,answermesomething.You'resosmart,youknow all the answers now, answerme this: how do you thinkMelvinWeinergavehimselfcolitis?Whyhasthatchildspenthalfhislifeinhospitals?

Becauseheeatschazerai,

Don'tyoudaremakefunofme!

Allright,Iscream,howdidhegetcolitis?

Becauseheeatschazerai!Butit'snotajoke!BecausetohimamealisanOHenrybarwasheddownbyabottleofPepsi.Becausehisbreakfastconsistsof,doyouknowwhat?Themostimportantmealoftheday-notaccordingjusttoyourmother,Alex,butaccordingtothehighestnutritionists-anddoyouknowwhatthatchildeats?

Adoughnut.

Adoughnutisright,Mr.SmartGuy,Mr.Adult.Andcoffee.Coffeeandadoughnut,andonthisathirteen-year-oldpisherwithhalfastomachissupposedtostartaday.Butyou,thankGod,havebeenbroughtupdifferently.Youdon'thaveamotherwhogallivantsallovertownlikesomenamesIcouldname,fromBarn'stoHahne'stoKresge'salldaylong.Alex,tellme,soit'snotamystery,ormaybe I'm just stupid-only tell me, what are you trying to do, what are youtrying toprove, thatyou should stuffyourselfwith such junkwhenyoucouldcome home to a poppyseed cookie and a nice glass ofmilk? Iwant the truthfromyou.Iwouldn'ttellyourfather,shesays,hervoicedroppingsignificantly,butImusthavethetruthfromyou.Pause.Alsosignificant.IsitjustFrenchfries,darling, or is itmore? . . . Tellme, please,what other kind of garbage you'reputting intoyourmouthsowecanget to thebottomof thisdiarrhea! Iwantastraight answer from you,Alex.Are you eating hamburgers out?Answerme,please,isthatwhyyouflushedthetoilet-wastherehamburgerinit?

Itoldyou-Idon'tlookinthebowlwhenIflushit!I'mnotinterestedlike

Youareinotherpeople'spoopie!

Oh,oh,oh-thirteenyearsoldandthemouthonhim!Tosomeonewhoisaskingaquestionabouthishealth,hiswelfare!Theutterincomprehensibilityofthe situation causes her eyes to become heavywith tears. Alex, why are yougettinglikethis,givemesomeclue?Tellmepleasewhathorriblethingswehavedonetoyouallour livesthat thisshouldbeourreward?Ibelievethequestionstrikesherasoriginal. Ibelieve sheconsiders thequestionunanswerable.Andworstofall,sodoI.Whathave theydoneformeall their lives,butsacrifice?Yetthatthisispreciselythehorriblethingisbeyondmyunderstanding-andstill,Doctor!Tothisday!

Ibracemyselfnowforthewhispering.Icanspotthewhisperingcomingamileaway.Weareabouttodiscussmyfather'sheadaches.

Alex,hedidn'thaveaheadacheonhimtodaythathecouldhardlyseestraightfromit?Shechecks,isheoutofearshot?Godforbidheshouldhearhowcriticalhisconditionis,hemightclaimexaggeration.He'snotgoingnextweekforatestforatumor?

Heis?

'Bringhimin,'thedoctorsaid,'I'mgoingtogivehimatestforatumor.'

Success.Iamcrying.Thereisnogoodreasonformetobecrying,butinthishouseholdeverybodytriestogetagoodcryinatleastonceaday.Myfather,youmustunderstand-asdoubtlessyoudo:blackmailersaccountforasubstantialpartofthehumancommunity,and,Iwouldimagine,ofyourclientele-myfatherhasbeengoingforthistumortestfornearlyaslongasIcanremember.Whyhisheadacheshimallthetimeis,ofcourse,becauseheisconstipatedallthetime-whyheisconstipatedisbecauseownershipofhisintestinaltractisinthehandsof the firmofWorry,FearFrustration. It is true that adoctoronce said tomymotherthathewouldgiveherhusbandatestforatumor-ifthatwouldmakeherhappy, is I believe the way that he worded it; he suggested that it would becheaper,however,andprobablymoreeffectiveforthemantoinvestinanenemabag.Yet,thatIknowallthistobeso,doesnotmakeitanylessheartbreakingtoimaginemyfather'sskullsplittingopenfromamalignancy.

Yes,shehasmewhereshewantsme,andsheknowsit.Icleanforgetmyowncancer in thegrief that comes- comesnowas it came then-when I think

how much of life has always been ( as he himself very accurately puts it )beyond his comprehension. And his grasp. No money, no schooling, nolanguage, no learning, curiosity without culture, drive without opportunity,experiencewithoutwisdom . . .Howeasily his inadequacies canmoveme totears.Aseasilyastheymovemetoanger!

Apersonmyfatheroftenhelduptomeassomeonetoemulateinlifewasthe theatrical producer Billy Rose. Walter Winchell said that Billy Rose'sknowledge of shorthand had led Bernard Baruch to hire him as a secretary-consequently my father plagued me throughout high school to enroll in theshorthandcourse.Alex,wherewouldBillyRosebetodaywithouthisshorthand?Nowhere!Sowhydoyoufightme?Earlieritwasthepianowebattledover.Foramanwhosehousewaswithoutaphonographorarecord,hewaspassionateonthe subject of amusical instrument. I don't understandwhy youwon't take amusical instrument, this isbeyondcomprehension.Your littlecousinTobycansitdownatthepianoandplaywhateversongyoucanname.AllshehastodoissitatthepianoandplayTeaforTwo'andeverybodyintheroomisherfriend.She'llneverlackforcompanionship,Alex,shellneverlackforpopularity.Onlytellme you'll take up the piano, and I'll have one in here tomorrowmorning.Alex,areyoulisteningtome?Iamofferingyousomethingthatcouldchangetherestofyourlife!

ButwhathehadtoofferIdidn'twant-andwhatIwantedhedidn'thavetooffer.Yethowunusualisthat?Whymustitcontinuetocausesuchpain?Atthislatedate!Doctor,whatshouldIridmyselfof,tellme,thehatred...orthelove? Because I haven't even begun to mention everything I remember withpleasure-Imeanwitharapturous,bitingsenseofloss!Allthosememoriesthatseemsomehow tobeboundupwith theweatherand the timeofday,and thatflash intomindwith such poignancy, thatmomentarily I am not down in thesubway,oratmyoffice,oratdinnerwithaprettygirl,butbackinmychildhood,with them. Memories of practically nothing- and yet they seem moments ofhistory as crucial to my being as the moment of my conception; I might berememberinghisspermnosingintoherovum,sopiercingismygratitude-yes,mygratitude!-sosweepingandunqualifiedismylove.Yes,me,withsweepingandunqualifiedlove!Iamstandinginthekitchen(standingmaybeforthefirsttime inmy life ),mymotherpoints,Lookoutside,baby,and I look; she says,See? how purple? a real fall sky The first line of poetry I ever hear! And Irememberit!Arealfallsky . . . It isan iron-coldJanuaryday,dusk-oh, thesememoriesofduskaregoingtokillmeyet,ofchickenfatonryebreadtotideme

over to dinner, and themoon already outside the kitchenwindow- I have justcome inwith hot red cheeks and a dollar I have earned shoveling snow:Youknowwhatyou'regoingtohavefordinner,mymothercoossolovinglytome,forbeingsuchahard-workingboy?Yourfavoritewintermeal.Lambstew.Itisnight: afteraSunday inNewYorkCity,atRadioCityandChinatown,wearedriving home across theGeorgeWashingtonBridge-theHollandTunnel is thedirect route betweenPell Street and JerseyCity, but I beg for the bridge, andbecausemymothersaysit'seducational,myfatherdrivessometenmilesoutofhiswaytogetushome.Upfrontmysistercountsaloudthenumberofsupportsuponwhichthemarvelouseducationalcablesrest,whileinthebackIfallasleepwithmyfaceagainstmymother'sblacksealskincoat.AtLakewood,wherewego one winter for a weekend vacation with my parents' Sunday night GinRummy Club, I sleep in one twin bed with my father, and my mother andHannahcurlup together in theother.Atdawnmyfatherawakensmeand likeconvicts escaping, we noiselessly dress and slip out of the room. Come, hewhispers,motioning forme todonmyearmuffsandcoat, Iwant to showyousomething.DidyouknowIwasawaiterinLakewoodwhenIwassixteenyearsold?Outsidethehotelhepointsacrosstothebeautifulsilentwoods.How'sthat?hesays.Wewalktogether-atabriskpace-aroundasilverlake.'Takegooddeepbreaths.Takeinthepineyairalltheway.Thisisthebestairintheworld,goodwinterpineyair.Goodwinterpineyair-anotherpoetforaparent!Icouldn'tbemorethrilledifIwereWordsworth'skid!...Insummerheremainsinthecitywhile the three of us go off to live in a furnished room at the seashore for amonth.Hewill join us for the last twoweeks,whenhe gets his vacation . . .there are times, however,when JerseyCity is so thickwithhumidity, so alivewiththemosquitoesthatcomedive-bombinginfromthemarshes,thatattheendof his day's work he drives sixty-five miles, taking the old CheesequakeHighway-theCheesequake!MyGod!thestuffyouuncoverhere!-drivessixty-fivemilestospendthenightwithusinourbreezyroomatBradleyBeach.

Hearrivesafterwehavealreadyeaten,buthisowndinnerwaitswhileheunpeels the soggycity clothes inwhichhehasbeenmaking the roundsofhisdebitallday,andchangesintohisswimsuit.Icarryhistowelforhimasheclopsdownthestreet to thebeach inhisunlacedshoes. Iamdressed incleanshortpantsandaspotlesspoloshirt,thesaltisshoweredoffme,andmyhair-stillmylittle boy's pre-steel wool hair, soft and combable - is beautifully parted andslicked down. There is a weathered iron rail that runs the length of theboardwalk,andIseatmyselfuponit;belowme,inhisshoes,myfathercrossesthe empty beach. I watch him neatly set down his towel near the shore. He

placeshiswatchinoneshoe,hiseyeglassesintheother,andthenheisreadytomake his entrance into the sea.To this day I go into thewater as he advised:plunge the wrists in first, then splash the underarms, then a handful to thetemplesandthebackoftheneck...ah,butslowly,alwaysslowly.Thiswayyouget to refresh yourself, while avoiding a shock to the system. Refreshed,unshocked,heturnstofaceme,comicallywavesfarewelluptowherehethinksI'm standing, and drops backward to float with his arms outstretched. Oh hefloatssostill-heworks,heworkssohard,andforwhomifnotforme?-andthenatlast,afterturningonhisbellyandmakingwithafewchoppystrokesthatcarryhim nowhere, he comes wading back to shore, his streaming compact torsoglowingfromthe lastpurespikesof lightdriving in,overmyshoulder,outofstiflinginlandNewJersey,fromwhichIambeingspared.

Andtherearemorememorieslikethisone.Doctor.Alotmore.ThisismymotherandfatherI'mtalkingabout.

But-but-but-letmepullmyselftogether-thereisalsothisvisionofhimemergingfromthebathroom,savagelykneadingthebackofhisneckandsourlyswallowingabelch.Allright,whatisitthatwassourgentyoucouldn'twaittillIcameouttotellme?

Nothing,saysmymother.It'ssettled.

Helooksatme,sodisappointed.I'mwhathelivesfor,andIknowit.Whatdidhedo?

Whathedidisoveranddonewith,Godwilling.You,didyoumoveyourbowels?sheaskshim.

OfcourseIdidn'tmovemybowels.

Jack,whatisitgoingtobewithyou,withthosebowels?

They'returningintoconcrete,that'swhatit'sgoingtobe.

Becauseyoueattoofast.

Idon'teattoofast.

Howthen,slow?

Ieatregular.

Youeatlikeapig,andsomebodyshouldtellyou.

Oh,yougotawonderfulwayofexpressingyourselfsometimes,doyouknowthat?

I'monlyspeakingthetruth,shesays.Istandonmyfeetalldayinthiskitchen, and you eat like there's a fire somewhere, and this one- this one hasdecidedthatthefoodIcookisn'tgoodenoughforhim.He'dratherbesickandscarethelivingdaylightsoutofme.

Whatdidhedo?

Idon'twanttoupsetyou,shesays.Let'sjustforgetthewholething.Butshecan't,sonowshebeginstocry.Look,sheisprobablynotthehappiestpersonintheworldeither.ShewasonceatallstringbeanofagirlwhomtheboyscalledRedinhighschool.WhenIwasnineandtenyearsoldIhadanabsolutepassionforherhighschoolyearbook.ForawhileIkeptitinthesamedrawerwiththatothervolumeofexotica,mystampcollection.

SophieGinskytheboyscallRed,

She'llgofarwithherbigbrowneyesandhercleverhead.

Andthatwasmymother!

Also,shehadbeensecretarytothesoccercoach,anofficeprettymuchwithoutlaurelsinourowntime,butapparentlythepostforayounggirltoholdin JerseyCity during the FirstWorldWar. So I thought, at any rate,when Iturned the pages of her yearbook, and she pointed out to me her dark-hairedbeau,whohadbeencaptainoftheteam,andtoday,toquoteSophie,thebiggestmanufacturerofmustardinNewYork.AndIcouldhavemarriedhiminsteadofyour father, she confided in me, and more than once. I used to wondersometimeswhatthatwouldhavebeenlikeformymommaandme,invariablyontheoccasionswhenmy father tookus to dineout at the corner delicatessen. Ilookaroundtheplaceandthink,Wewouldhavemanufacturedallthismustard.Isupposeshemusthavehadthoughtslikethatherself.

HeeatsFrenchfries,shesays,andsinksintoakitchenchairtoWeepHer

HeartOutonceandforall.HegoesafterschoolwithMelvinWeinerandstuffshimselfwithFrench-friedpotatoes.Jack,youtellhim,I'monlyhismother.Tellhimwhattheendisgoingtobe.Alex,shesayspassionately,lookingtowhereIam edging out of the room, tateleh, it beginswith diarrhea, but do you knowhow it ends?Witha sensitive stomach likeyours,doyouknowhow it finallyends? Wearing a plastic bag to do your business in!

Who in the history of theworld has been least able to dealwith awoman'stears?Myfather.Iamsecond.Hesaystome,Youheardyourmother.Don'teatFrenchfrieswithMelvinWeinerafterschool.

Orever,shepleads.

Orever,myfathersays.

Orhamburgersout,shepleads.

Hamburgers,shesaysbitterly,justasshemightsayHitler,wheretheycanputanythingintheworldinthattheywant-andheeatsthem.Jack,makehimpromisebeforehegiveshimselfaterribletsura,andit'stoolate.

Ipromise!Iscream.Ipromise!andracefromthekitchen- towhere?Whereelse.

I tear offmy pants, furiously I grab that battered battering ram tofreedom,myadolescentcock,evenasmymotherbeginstocallfromtheothersideofthebathroomdoor.Nowthistimedon'tflush.Doyouhearme,Alex?Ihavetoseewhat'sinthatbowl!

Doctor,doyouunderstandwhatIwasupagainst?MywangwasallIreallyhadthatIcouldcallmyown.Youshouldhavewatchedheratworkduringpolio season!She shouldhavegottenmedals from theMarchofDimes!Openyourmouth.Whyisyourthroatred?Doyouhaveaheadacheyou'renottellingmeabout?You'renotgoing toanybaseballgame,Alex,until I seeyoumoveyourneck.Isyourneckstiff?Thenwhyareyoumovingitthatway?Youatelikeyouwerenauseous,areyounauseous?Well,youatelikeyouwerenauseous.Idon'twantyoudrinkingfromthedrinkingfountaininthatplayground.Ifyou'rethirstywaituntilyou'rehome.Yourthroatissore,isn'tit?Icantellhowyou'reswallowing.Ithinkmaybewhatyouaregoingtodo,Mr.JoeDiMaggie,isput

thatgloveawayandliedown.Iamnotgoingtoallowyoutogooutsideinthisheat and run around, not with that sore throat, I'm not. I want to take yourtemperature. I don't like the sound of this throat business one bit. To be veryfrank, I amactually besidemyself that youhavebeenwalking around all daywithasorethroatandnottellingyourmother.Whydidyoukeepthisasecret?Alex, polio doesn't know frombaseball games. It onlyknows from iron lungsandcrippledforever!Idon'twantyourunningaround,andthat'sfinal.Oreatinghamburgers out.Ormayonnaise.Or chopped liver.Or tuna.Not everybody iscarefulthewayyourmotherisaboutspoilage.You'reusedtoaspotlesshouse,youdon't begin toknowwhatgoeson in restaurants.Doyouknowwhyyourmotherwhenwegoto theChink'swillneversit facingthekitchen?BecauseIdon'twant toseewhatgoesonbackthere.Alex,youmustwasheverything, isthatclear?Everything!Godonlyknowswhotoucheditbeforeyoudid.

Look, am Iexaggerating to think it'spracticallymiraculous that I'mambulatory? The hysteria and the superstition! The watch- its and the be-carefuls!Youmustn'tdothis,youcan'tdothat-holdit!don't!you'rebreakinganimportant law!What law?Whose law?Theymight aswell havehadplates intheir lipsand rings through theirnosesandpainted themselvesblue forall thehuman sense theymade!Oh, and themilchiks and flaishiks besides, all thosemeshuggeneh rulesandregulationson topof theirownprivatecraziness!It'safamilyjokethatwhenIwasatinychildIturnedfromthewindowoutofwhichIwas watching a snowstorm, and hopefully asked, Momma, do we believe inwinter?Doyou getwhat I'm saying? Iwas raised byHottentots andZulus! Icouldn't even contemplate drinking a glass of milk with my salami sandwichwithout giving serious offense to God Almighty. Imagine then what myconsciencegavemeforallthatjerkingoff!

Theguilt,thefears-theterrorbredintomybones!Whatintheirworldwasnotchargedwithdanger,drippingwithgerms,fraughtwithperil?Oh,wherewasthegusto,wherewastheboldnessandcourage?Whofilledtheseparentsofminewith such a fearful sense of life?My father, in his retirement now, hasreally only one subject into which he can sink his teeth, the New JerseyTurnpike.Iwouldn'tgoonthatthingifyoupaidme.Youhavetobeoutofyourmind to travel on that thing- it'sMurder Incorporated, it's a legalizedway forpeopletogooutandgetthemselveskilled-Listen,youknowwhathesaystomethreetimesaweekonthetelephone-andI'monlycountingwhenIpickitup,notthetotalnumberofringsIgetbetweensixandteneverynight.Sellthatcar,willyou?WillyoudomeafavorandsellthatcarsoIcangetagoodnight'ssleep?

Whyyouhavetohaveacar

in that city is beyondmycomprehension.Whyyouwant topay for insuranceand garage and upkeep, I don't even begin to understand. But then I don'tunderstandyetwhyyouevenwanttolivebyyourselfoverinthatjungle.

Whatdoyoupaythoserobbersagainforthattwo-by-fourapartment?Apennyover fifty dollars amonth andyou're out of yourmind.Whyyoudon'tmovebacktoNorthJerseyisamysterytome-whyyoupreferthenoiseandthecrimeandthefumes-

Andmymother,shejustkeepswhispering.Sophiewhisperson!Igofordinner once a month, it is a struggle requiring all my guile and cunning andstrength, but I have been able over all these years, and against imponderableodds, tohold itdown toonceamonth: I ring thebell, sheopens thedoor, thewhisperingpromptlybegins!

Don'taskwhatkindofdayIhadwithhimyesterday.SoIdon't.Alex,sottovocestill,whenhehasadaylikethatyoudon'tknowwhatadifferenceacallfromyouwouldmake.Inod.And,Alex-andI'mnoddingaway,youknow-it doesn't cost anything, and it may even get me through- next week is hisbirthday.ThatMother'sDay came andwentwithout a card,plusmy birthday,those things don't bother me. But he'll be sixty-six, Alex. That's not a baby,Alex-that'salandmarkinalife.Soyou'llsendacard.Itwouldn'tkillyou.

Doctor, thesepeople are incredible!Thesepeople are unbelievable!These two are the outstanding producers and packagers of guilt in our time!They render it fromme like fat froma chicken!Call,Alex.Visit,Alex.Alex,keepusinformed.Don'tgoawaywithouttellingus,please,notagain.Lasttimeyouwentawayyoudidn'ttellus,yourfatherwasreadytophonethepolice.Youknowhowmany timesadayhecalledandgotnoanswer?Takeaguess,howmany?Mother,Iinformher,frombetweenmyteeth,ifI'mdeadthey'llsmellthebody in seventy-twohours, I assureyou!Don't talk like that!God forbid! shecries.Oh, andnowshe's got thebeauty, theoneguaranteed todo the job.YethowcouldIexpectotherwise?CanIasktheimpossibleofmyownmother?

Alex,topickupaphoneissuchasimplething-howmuchlongerwillwebearoundtobotheryouanyway?

DoctorSpielvogel,thisismylife,myonlylife,andI'mlivingitinthe

middleofaJewish ioke!Iamtheson in theJewish joke-only itaintno joke!Please,who crippledus like this?Whomadeus somorbid andhysterical andweak?Why,whyaretheyscreamingstill,Watchout!Don'tdoit!Alex-no!andwhy,aloneonmybedinNewYork,whyamIstillhopelesslybeatingmymeat?Doctor,whatdoyoucallthissicknessIhave?IsthistheJewishsufferingIusedtohearsomuchabout?Isthiswhathascomedowntomefromthepogromsandthepersecution?fromthemockeryandabusebestowedbythegoyimoverthesetwo thousand lovely years? Oh my secrets, my shame, my palpitations, myflushes,mysweats!ThewayIrespondtothesimplevicissitudesofhumanlife!Doctor,Ican'tstandanymorebeingfrightenedlikethisovernothing!Blessmewith manhood! Make me brave! Make me strong! Make mewhole! EnoughbeinganiceJewishboy,publiclypleasingmyparentswhileprivatelypulling

myputz!Enough!

THEJEWISHBLUES

Sometimeduringmyninthyearoneofmytesticlesapparentlydecidedithadhadenoughoflifedowninthescrotumandbegantomakeitswaynorth.AtthebeginningIcouldfeelitbobbinguncertainlyjustattherimofthepelvis-andthen,asthoughitsmomentofindecisionhadpassed,enteringthecavityofmybody, like a survivor being dragged up out of the sea and over the hull of alifeboat. And there it nestled, secure at last behind the fortress of my bones,leavingitsfoolhardymatetochanceitaloneinthatboy'sworldoffootballcleatsand picket fences, sticks and stones and pocketknives, all those dangers thatdrove my mother wild with foreboding, and about which I was warned andwarnedandwarned.Andwarnedagain.Andagain.

Andagain.

Somylefttesticletookupresidenceinthevicinityoftheinguinalcanal.Bypressingafingerinthecreasebetweenmygroinandmythigh,Icouldstill,in theearlyweeksof itsdisappearance, feel thecurveof its jellied roundness;butthencamenightsofterror,whenIsearchedmygutsinvain,searchedallthewayup tomy rib cage- alas, thevoyagerhad struckoff for regionsunchartedandunknown.Wherewasitgoneto!Howhighandhowfarbeforethejourneywouldcometoanend!WouldIonedayopenmymouthtospeakinclass,onlytodiscovermyleftnutoutontheendofmytongue?Inschoolwechanted,alongwithourteacher,IamtheCaptainofmyfate,IamtheMasterofmysoul,and

meanwhile,withinmyownbody,ananarchicinsurrectionhadbeenlaunchedbyoneofmyprivates-whichIwashelplesstoputdown!

Forsomesixmonths,untilitsabsencewasobservedbythefamilydoctorduringmyannualphysicalexamination,Iponderedmymystery,morethanoncewondering-fortherewasnopossibilitythatdidnotentermyhead,none-if thetesticlecouldhavetakenadivebackwardstowardthebowelandtherebeguntoconvertitselfintojustsuchaneggasIhadobservedmymotheryankinamoistyellowclusterfromthedarkinteriorofachickenwhosegutsshewasemptyinginto thegarbage.What ifbreastsbegantogrowonme, too?What ifmypeniswentdryandbrittle,andoneday,whileIwasurinating,snappedoffinmyhand?WasIbeingtransformedintoagirl?Orworse,intoaboysuchasIunderstood(fromtheplaygroundgrapevine)thatRobertRipleyofBelieveItorNotwouldpayarewardofahundredthousanddollarsfor?Believeitornot,thereisanine-year-old boy in New Jersey who is a boy in every way, except he can havebabies.

Whogetsthereward?Me,orthepersonwhoturnsmein?

Doctorlzzierolledthescrotalsacbetweenhisfingersasthoughitwerethematerialofasuithewasconsideringbuying,andthentoldmyfatherthatIwouldhavetobegivenaseriesofmalehormoneshots.Oneofmytesticleshadneverfullydescended-unusual,notunheardof . . .But if theshotsdon'twork,asksmyfatherinalarm.Whatthen-!HereIamsentoutintothewaitingroomtolookatamagazine.

Theshotswork.Iamsparedtheknife.(Onceagain!)

Oh, this father! this kindly, anxious, uncomprehending, constipatedfather! Doomed to be obstructed by this Holy Protestant Empire! The self-confidenceandthecunning,theimperiousnessandthecontacts,allthatenabledthe blond and blue-eyed of his generation to lead, to inspire, to command, ifneedbetooppress-hecouldnotsummonahundredthpartofit.Howcouldheoppress?- he was the oppressed. How could he wield power?- he was thepowerless.Howcouldhe enjoy triumph,whenhe sodespised the triumphant-andprobablytheveryidea.TheyworshipaJew,doyouknowthat,Alex?Theirwholebig-dealreligionisbasedonworshipingsomeonewhowasanestablishedJewatthattime.Nowhowdoyoulikethatforstupidity?Howdoyoulikethatfor pulling the wool over the eyes of the public? Jesus Christ, who they go

around telling everybody was God, was actually a Jew! And this fact, thatabsolutelykillsmewhenIhavetothinkaboutit,nobodyelsepaysanyattentionto.ThathewasaJew,likeyouandme,andthattheytookaJewandturnedhiminto somekindofGod after he is alreadydead, and then-and this iswhat canmakeyou absolutely crazy-then the dirty bastards turn around afterwards, andwhoisthefirstoneontheirlist topersecute?whohaven'ttheylefttheirhandsoffoftomurderandtohatefortwothousandyears?TheJews!whogavethemtheirbelovedJesustobeginwith!Iassureyou,Alex,youarenevergoingtohearsuch amishegoss of mixed-up crap and disgusting nonsense as the Christianreligioninyourentirelife.Andthat'swhatthesebigshots,so-called,believe!

Unfortunately,onthehomefrontcontemptforthepowerfulenemywasnotsoreadilyavailableasadefensivestrategy-forastimewenton,theenemywasmoreandmorehisownbelovedson.Indeed,duringthatextendedperiodofragethatgoesbythenameofmyadolescence,whatterrifiedmemostaboutmyfatherwasnottheviolenceIexpectedhimmomentarilytounleashuponme,butthe violence I wished every night at the dinner table to commit upon hisignorant,barbariccarcass.HowIwantedtosendhimhowlingfromthelandofthe livingwhenheatefromtheservingbowlwithhisownfork,orsuckedthesoupfromhisspooninsteadofpolitelywaitingforittocool,orattempted,Godforbid, to express an opinion on any subject whatsoever . . . And what wasespecially terrifying about the murderous wish was this: if I tried, chanceswereI'dsucceed!Chanceswerehewouldhelpmealong!Iwouldhaveonlytoleap across the dinner dishes, my fingers aimed at his windpipe, for himinstantaneously to sink down beneath the table with his tongue hanging out.Shouthecouldshout,squabblehecouldsquabble,andohnudjh,couldhenudjh!Butdefendhimself?againstme?Alex,keepthisbacktalkup,mymotherwarns,asIdepartfromtheroaringkitchenlikeAttilatheHun,runscreamingfromyetanotherhalf-eatendinner, (continuewith thisdisrespect andyouwillgive thatmanaheartattack! Good! Icry, slamming inher face thedoor tomy room.Fine!Iscream,extractingfrommyclosetthezylonjacketIwearonlywithmycollarup(astylesheabhorsasmuchasthefilthygarmentitself).Wonderful!Ishout,andwithstreamingeyesruntothecornertoventmyfuryonthepinballmachine.

Christ,inthefaceofmydefiance-ifmyfatherhadonlybeenmymother!andmymothermyfather!Butwhatamix-upof thesexes inourhouse!Whoshouldbyrightsbeadvancingonme,retreating-andwhoshouldberetreating,advancing!Whoshouldbescolding,collapsinginhelplessness,enfeebledtotally

byatenderheart!Andwhoshouldbecollapsing, insteadscolding,correcting,reproving,criticizing, faultfindingwithoutend!Filling thepatriarchalvacuum!Oh, thankGod! thankGod! at leasthe had the cock and the balls! Pregnable(puttingitmildly)ashismasculinitywasinthisworldofgoyimwithgoldenhairandsilvertongues,betweenhislegs(Godblessmyfather!)hewasconstructedlikeamanofconsequence,twobighealthyballssuchasakingwouldbeproudtoputondisplay,andashlong ofmagisterial lengthandgirth.And theywerehis: yes, of this I am absolutely certain, they hung down off of, they wereconnectedonto,theycouldnotbetakenawayfrom,him!

Ofcourse,aroundthehouseIsawlessofhissexualapparatusthanIdidofhererogenouszones.AndonceIsawhermenstrualblood...sawitshiningdarklyupatmefromthewornlinoleuminfrontofthekitchensink.Justtworeddropsoveraquarterofacenturyago,buttheyglowstillinthaticonofherthathangs, perpetually illuminated, in my Modern Museum of Gripes andGrievances(alongwiththeboxofKotexandthenylonstockings,whichIwanttocometoinamoment).Alsointhisiconisanendlessdrippingofblooddownthroughadrainboardintoadishpan.Itisthebloodsheisdrainingfromthemeatsoastomakeitkosherandfitforconsumption.ProbablyIamconfusingthings-IsoundlikeasonoftheHouseofAtreuswithallthistalkofblood-butIseeherstandingatthesinksaltingthemeatsoastoriditofitsblood,whentheattackofwoman's troubles sends her, with a most alarming moan, rushing off to herbedroom.Iwasnomorethanfourorfive,andyetthosetwodropsofbloodthatIbeheld on the floor of her kitchen are visible tome still . . . as is the box ofKotex...asarethestockingsslidingupherlegs...asis-needIevensayit?-thebreadknifewithwhichmyownbloodwouldbethreatenedwhenIrefusetoeatmydinner.Thatknife!Thatknife!Whatgetsme is thatsheherselfdidnoteven consider the use of it anything to be ashamed of, or particularly reticentabout. From my bed I hear her babbling about her problems to the womenaround themah-jongg game:MyAlex is suddenly such a bad eater I have tostandoverhimwithaknife.Andnoneofthemapparentlyfindsthistacticofhersatallexcessive.Ihave!tostandoverhimwithaknife!AndnotoneofthoseIwomengetsupfromthemah-jonggtableandwalksoutof.herhouse!Becauseintheirworld,thatisthewayitiswithbadeaters-youhavetostandoverthemwithaknife!

It was years later that she called from the bathroom, Run to thedrugstore!bringaboxofKotex!immediately!Andthepanicinhervoice.DidIrun!And thenathomeagain,breathlesslyhanded thebox to thewhite fingers

thatextendedthemselvesatmethroughanarrowcrackinthebathroomdoor...Though hermenstrual troubles eventually had to be resolved by surgery, it isdifficultneverthelesstoforgiveherforhavingsentmeonthatmissionofmercy.Bettersheshouldhavebledherselfoutonourcoldbathroomfloor,betterthat,than to have sent an eleven-year-old boy in hot pursuit of sanitary napkins!Wherewasmysister,forChrist'ssake?Wherewasherownemergencysupply?Whywasthiswomansogrosslyinsensitivetothevulnerabilityofherownlittleboy-ontheonehandsoinsensitivetomyshame,andyetontheother,soattunedtomydeepestdesires!

...IamsosmallIhardlyknowwhatsexIam,orsoyouwouldimagine.It isearly in theafternoon,springof theyearFour.Flowersarestandingupinpurplestalks in thepatchofdirtoutsideourbuilding.With thewindowsflungopentheairintheapartmentisfragrant,softwiththeseason-andyetelectrictoowithmymother'svitality:shehasfinished theweek'swashandhungiton theline;shehasbakedamarblecakeforourdessert tonight,beautifullybleeding-there'sthatbloodagain!there'sthatknifeagain!-anywayexpertlybleedingthechocolateinandoutofthevanilla,anaccomplishmentthatseemstomeasmuchofamiracleasgettingthosepeachestohangtheresuspendedintheshimmeringmoldof jello. Shehasdonethelaundryandbakedthecake;shehasscrubbedthe kitchen and bathroom floors and laid them with newspapers; she has ofcoursedusted;needless tosay, shehasvacuumed;shehasclearedandwashedour luncheondishesand (withmycute little assistance) returned them to theirplace in themilchiks cabinet in the pantry- andwhistling like a canary all themorningthrough,atunelessmelodyofhealthandjoy,ofheedlessnessandself-sufficiency. While I crayon a picture for her, she showers- and now in thesunshineofherbedroom,sheisdressingtotakemedowntown.Shesitsontheedgeof thebed inherpaddedbraandhergirdle, rollingonher stockingsandchatteringaway.WhoisMommy'sgoodlittleboy?Whoisthebestlittleboyamommy ever had?Who doesMommy lovemore than anything in thewholewideworld?Iamabsolutelypunchywithdelight,andmeanwhilefollowintheirtight, slow,agonizinglydelicious journeyupher legs the transparent stockingsthatgiveherfleshahueofstirringdimensions.Isidlecloseenoughtosmellthebathpowderonherthroat-alsotoappreciatebettertheelasticintricaciesofthedangling straps towhich the stockingswill presently be hooked (undoubtedlywithaflourishoftrumpets).Ismelltheoilwithwhichshehaspolishedthefourgleaming posts of themahogany bedstead, where she sleepswith amanwholiveswithusatnightandonSundayafternoons.Myfathertheysayheis.Onmyfingertips, even though shehaswashed eachoneof those little piggieswith a

warmwetcloth,Ismellmylunch,mytunafishsalad.Ah,itmightbecuntI'msniffing.Maybeitis!Oh,Iwanttogrowlwithpleasure.Fouryearsold,andyetIsense inmyblood-uh-huh,againwith theblood-howrichwithpassion is themoment, howdensewithpossibility.This fat personwith the longhairwhomthey callmy sister is away at school. Thisman,my father, is off somewheremakingmoney,asbestheisable.Thesetwoaregone,andwhoknows,maybeI'llbelucky,maybethey'llnevercomeback...Inthemeantime,itisafternoon,it is spring,andformeandmealoneawoman is rollingonherstockingsandsingingasongoflove.WhoisgoingtostaywithMommyforeverandever?Me.Who is itwhogoeswithMommywherever in thewholewideworldMommygoes?Whyme,ofcourse.Whatasillyquestion-butdontgetmewrong, Illplaythegame!WhohadanicelunchwithMommy,whogoesdowntownlikeagoodboyonthebuswithMommy,whogoesintothebigstorewithMommy...andonandonandon...sothatonlyaweekorsoago,uponmysafereturnfromEurope,Mommyhadthistosay-

Feel.

What?-evenasshetakesmyhandinhersanddrawsittowardherbody-Mother-

Ihaven'tgainedfivepounds,shesays,sinceyouwereborn.Feel,shesays,andholdsmystifffingersagainsttheswellofherhips,whicharen'tbad...

Andthestockings.Morethantwenty-fiveyearshavepassed(thegameissupposedtobeover!),butMommystillhitchesupthestockingsinfrontofherlittleboy.Now,however,hetakesituponhimselftolooktheotherwaywhentheflaggoesflutteringup thepole-andoutofconcernnot just forhisownmentalhealth.That'sthetruth,Ilookawaynotformebutforthesakeofthatpoorman,my father!Yetwhat preference does Father really have? If there in the livingroomtheirgrown-uplittleboyweretotumbleallatonceontotherugwithhismommy,whatwouldDaddydo?Pourabucketofboilingwateron theraging,maddened couple?Would he draw his knife- or would he go off to the otherroomandwatchtelevisionuntiltheywerefinished?Whatareyoulookingaway-?asksmymother,amusedinthemidstofstraighteningherseams.You'dthinkIwas a twenty-one-year-old girl; you'd think I hadntwiped your backside andkissedyourlittletushyforyouallthoseyears.Lookathim-thistomyfather,incasehehasn't beengivingahundredpercentofhis attention to the little floorshow now being performed- look, acting like his ownmother is some sixty-

year-oldbeautyqueen.

Onceamonthmyfathertookmewithhimdowntotheshvitzbath,theretoendeavortodemolish-withthesteam,andarubdown,andalongdeepsleep-thepyramidofaggravationhehasbuilthimselfintoduringthepreviouslweeksofwork.Ourstreetclotheswelockawayinthedormitoryonthetopfloor.Onrowsofironcotsrunningperpendiculartothelockers,themenwhohavealreadybeenthroughtheringerdownbelowareflungoutbeneathwhitesheetslikethefatalitiesofaviolentcatastrophe.Ifitwerenotfortheabruptthunderclapofafart,or thesnoressporadicallyshootinguparoundme likemachine-gunfire, Iwouldbelievewewereinamorgue,andforsomestrangereasonundressinginfrontof thedead. Idonot lookat thebodies,but likeamousehop franticallyaboutonmytoes,tryingtoclearmyfeetofmyundershortsbeforeanybodycanpeek inside, where, to my chagrin, to my bafflement, to my mortification, Ialwaysdiscover in thebottommost seamapale andwispybrush-strokeofmyshitOh,Doctor,IwipeandIwipeandIwipe,IspendasmuchtimewipingasIdocrapping,maybeevenmore.Iusetoiletpaperlikeitgrewontrees-sosaysmyenviousfather-Iwipeuntilthatlittleorificeofmineisredasaraspberry;butstill,much as Iwould like to pleasemymother by dropping into her laundryhamper at the end of each day jockey shorts such asmight have encased theasshole of an angel, I deliver forth instead (deliberately, Herr Doctor?-or justinevitably?)thefetidlittledrawersofaboy.

Buthere inaTurkishbath,whyamIdancingaround?Therearenowomenhere.Nowomen-andnogoyim.Can it be?There isnothing toworryabout!

Followingthefoldsatthebaseofhiswhitebuttocks,Iproceedoutofthedormitoryanddownthemetalstairs to thatpurgatorywhereintheagonies thatcomeofbeinganinsuranceagent,afamilyman,andaJewwillbesteamedandbeatenfrommyfather'sbody.Atthebottomlandingwesidestepapileofwhitesheets and amound of sopping towels,my father pushes a shoulder against aheavy windowless door, and we enter a dark quiet region redolent ofwintergreen. The sounds are of a tiny, unenthusiastic audience applauding thedeathscene in some tragedy: it is the twomasseurswallopingandpotchingatthefleshoftheirvictims,menhalf-cladinsheetsandstretchedoutacrossmarbleslabs. They smack them and knead them and push them around, they slowlytwist their limbsas thoughtoremovetheminapiecefromtheirsockets-Iamhypnotized,butcontinuetofollowaftermyfatheraswepassalongsidethepool,

a small green cube of heart-stopping icewater, and come at last to the steamroom.

The moment he pushes open the door the place speaks to me ofprehistorictimes,earliereventhantheeraofthecavemenandlakedwellersthatIhavestudiedinschool,atimewhenabovetheoozingbogthatwastheearth,swirlingwhitegasseschokedoutthesunlight,andaeonspassedwhiletheplanetwasdrainedforMan.Ilosetouchinstantaneouslywiththatass-lickinglittleboywho runs home after school with his A's in his hand, the little over-earnestinnocent endlessly in search of the key to that unfathomable mystery, hismother's approbation, and am back in some sloppy watery time, before therewere families such as we know them, before there were toilets and tragediessuch as we know them, a time of amphibious creatures, plunging brainlesshulkingthings,withwetmeatyflanksandsteamingtorsos.ItisasthoughalltheJewishmenduckingbeneaththecolddribbleofshoweroffinthecornerofthesteamroom,thenlumberingbackformoreofthethickdensesuffocatingvapors,it is as though they have ridden the time-machine back to an age when theyexistedassomeherdofJewishanimals,whoseonlyutteranceisoy,oy . . . forthis is the sound theymake as theydrag themselves from the shower into theheavy gush of fumes. They appear, at long last, my father and his fellowsufferers, tohave returned to thehabitat inwhich theycanbenatural.Aplacewithoutgoyimandwomen.

Istandatattentionbetweenhislegsashecoatsmefromheadtotoewithathicklatherofsoap-andeyewithadmirationthebaggysubstantialityofwhatoverhangs themarble bench uponwhich he is seated.His scrotum is like thelongwrinkledfaceofsomeoldmanwithaneggtuckedintoeachofhissaggingjowls-whileminemight hang from thewrist of some little girl's dolly like ateenypinkpurse.Andasforhisshlong,tome,withthatfingertipofaprickthatmy mother likes to refer to in public (once, okay, but that once will last alifetime)asmylittlething,hisshlongbringstomindthefirehosescoiledalongthe corridors at school. Shlong: the word somehow catches exactly thebrutishness,themeatishness, thatIadmireso, thesheermindless,weighty,andunseltconscious dangle of that living piece of hose through which he passesstreamsofwaterasthickandstrongasrope-whileIdeliverforthslenderyellowthreads thatmy euphemisticmother calls a sis. A sis, I think, is undoubtedlywhatmysistermakes, littleyellow threads thatyoucansewwith . . .Doyouwanttomakeanicesis?sheasksme-whenIwanttomakeatorrent,Iwanttomakeaflood:Iwantlikehedoestoshiftthetidesofthetoiletbowl!Jack,my

mother calls to him,would you close that door, please?Some example you'resetting for youknowwho.But if only that hadbeen so,Mother! If onlyyou-know-whocouldhavefoundsomeinspirationinwhat's-his-name'scoarseness!IfonlyIcouldhavenourishedmyselfuponthedepthsofhisvulgarity,insteadofthattoobecomingasourceofshame.Shameandshameandshameandshame-everyplaceIturnsomethingelsetobeashamedof.

Weare inmyUncleNate's clothing storeonSpringfieldAvenue inNewark.Iwantabathingsuitwithabuilt-inathleticsupport.Iamelevenyearsoldandthatismysecret:Iwantajock.Iknownottosayanything,Ijustknowtokeepmymouthshut,butthenhowdoyougetitifyoudon'taskforit?UncleNate, a spiffy dresserwith a mustache, removes fromhis showcase a pair oflittleboystrunks,theexactstyleIhavealwaysworn.Heindicatesthatthisisthebestsuitforme,fast-dryingandwon'tchafe.What'syourfavoritecolor?UncleNateasks-maybeyouwant it inyourschoolcolor,huh?I turnscarlet, thoughthatisnotmyanswer.Idon'twantthatkindofsuitanymore,andoh,Icansmellhumiliation in thewind, hear it rumbling in the distance-anyminute now it isgoingtocrashuponmyprepubescenthead.Whynot?myfatherasks.Didn'tyouhearyouruncle,thisisthebest-Iwantonewithajockstrapinit!Yes,sir,thisjustbreaksmymotherup.Foryourlittlething?sheasks,withanamusedsmile.

Yes,Mother,imagine:formylittlething.

Thepotentmaninthefamily-successfulinbusiness,tyrannicalathome-wasmyfather'soldestbrother,Hymie, theonlyoneofmyauntsanduncles tohavebeenbornontheothersideandtotalkwithanaccent.UncleHymiewasinthesoda-vaterbusiness,bottleranddistributorofasweetcarbonateddrinkcalledSqueeze,thevinordinaireofourdinnertable.WithhisneurasthenicwifeClara,his sonHarold, and his daughterMarcia,my uncle lived in a densely JewishsectionofNewark,onthesecondfloorofatwo-familyhousethatheowned,andintowhosebottomfloorwemoved in1941,whenmyfather transferred to theEssexCountyofficeofBostonNortheastern.

WemovedfromJerseyCitybecauseoftheanti-Semitism.Justbeforethewar,whentheBundwasfeelingitsoats,theNazisusedtoholdtheirpicnicsinabeer garden only blocks from our house. When we drove by in the car onSundays,myfatherwouldcursethem,loudenoughformetohear,notquiteloudenoughforthemtohear.Thenonenightaswastikawaspaintedonthefrontofour building. Then a swastika was found carved into the desk of one of the

Jewishchildren inHannah'sclass.AndHannahherselfwaschasedhomefromschooloneafternoonbyagangofboys,whoitwasassumedwereanti-Semiteson a rampage. My parents were beside themselves. But when Uncle Hymieheardthestories,hehadtolaugh:Thissurprisesyou?Livingsurroundedonfoursidesbygoyim,andthissurprisesyou?TheonlyplaceforaJewtoliveisamongJews,especially, he saidwith an emphasiswhose significancedidnot entirelyescapeme,especiallywhenchildrenaregrowingupwithpeoplefromtheothersex.UncleHymielikedtolorditovermyfather,andtookacertainpleasureinpointing out that in JerseyCity only the buildingwe lived inwas exclusivelyJewish,whereasinNewark,wherehestilllived,thatwasthecasewiththeentireWeequahic neighborhood. In my cousin Marcias graduating class fromWeequahic High, out of the two hundred and fifty students, there were onlyelevengoyimandonecolored.Gobeatthat,saidUncleHymie...Somyfather,after much deliberation, put in for a transfer back to his native village, andalthoughhisimmediatebosswasreluctanttolosesuchadedicatedworker(andnaturally shelved the request), my mother eventually made a long-distancephonecallonherown,totheHomeOfficeupinBoston,andfollowingamix-upthatIdon'tevenwanttobegintogointo, therequestwasgranted:in1941wemovedtoNewark.

Harold,mycousin,wasshortandbullishinbuild-likeallthemeninourfamily,exceptme-andboreastrongresemblancetotheactorJohnGarfield.Mymother adored him and was always making him blush (a talent the ladypossesses)bysayinginhispresence,IfagirlhadHeshele'sdarklashes,believeme, she'd be in Hollywood with a million-dollar contract. In a corner of thecellar, across from where Uncle Hymie had cases of Squeeze piled to theceiling, Heshie kept a set of York weights with which he worked out everyafternoonbeforetheopeningofthetrackseason.Hewasoneofthestarsoftheteam,andheldacity record in the javelin throw;hiseventswerediscus, shot,andjavelin,thoughonceduringameetatSchoolStadium,hewasputinbythecoachtorunthelowhurdles,asasubstituteforasickteammate,andinaspillatthelastjump,fellandbrokehiswrist.MyAuntClaraatthattime-orwasitallthetime?-wasgoingthroughoneofhernervousseizures-incomparisontoAuntClara,myownvividmommaisaGaryCooper-andwhenHeshiecamehomeattheendof thedaywithhisarm inacast, shedropped ina faint to thektchenfloor.Heshie'scastwaslaterreferredtoasthestrawthatbrokethecamel'sback,whateverthatmeant.

Tome,Heshiewaseverything-that is, for the little time Iknewhim. Iused to

dreamthatItoowouldsomedaybeamemberofthetrackteamandwearscantwhiteshortswithaslitcutupeithersidetoaccommodatethetautandbulgingmusclesofmythighs.

JustbeforehewasdraftedintotheArmyin1943?HeshiedecidedtobecomeengagedtoagirlnamedAliceDembosky,theheaddrummajoretteofthehighschoolband.ItwasAlice'sgeniustobeabletotwirlnotjustonebuttwosilverbatons simultaneously-to pass them over her shoulders, glide them snakilybetweenherlegs,andthentossthemfifteenandtwentyfeetintotheair,catchingone,thentheother,behindherback.Onlyrarelydidshedropabatontotheturf,andthenshehadahabitofshakingherheadpetulantlyandcryingoutinalittlevoice,Oh,Alice!thatonlycouldhavemadeHeshieloveherthemore;itsurelyhadthateffectuponme.Oh-Alice,withthatlongblondhairleapingupherbackandaboutherface!cavortingwithsuchexuberancehalfthelengthoftheplayingfield!Oh-Alice, in her tinywhite skirtwith thewhite satin bloomers, and thewhite boots that come midway up the muscle of her lean, strong calves! OhJesus,LegsDembosky,inallherdumb,blondgoyischebeauty!Anothericon!

That Alice was so blatantly a shikse caused no end of grief in Heshieshousehold,andeveninmyown;asfor thecommunityat large,Ibelievetherewas actually a kind of civic pride taken in the fact that a gentile could haveassumedapositionofsuchhighvisibilityinourhighschool,whosefacultyandstudent bodywere about ninety-five percent Jewish.On the other hand,whenAlice performed what the loudspeaker described as her piece de resistance-twirlingabatonthathadbeenwrappedateitherendinoil-soakedragsandthenset afire-despite all the solemn applause delivered by the Weequahic fans intributetothegirl'sdaringandconcentration,despitethegraveboomboomboomofourbassdrumandthegaspsandshrieksthatwentupwhensheseemedabouttosetablazehertwoadorablebreasts-despitethisgenuinedisplayofadmirationandconcern, I think therewasstillacertaincomicdetachmentexperiencedonour sideof the field,grounded in thebelief that thiswasprecisely thekindoftalentthatonlyagoywouldthinktodevelopinthefirstplace.

Whichwasmoreor less theprevailingattitudetowardathletics ingeneral,andfootball in particular, among the parents in the neighborhood: it was for thegoyim.Letthemknocktheirheadstogetherforglory,forvictoryinaballgame!AsmyAuntClaraputit,inthattaut,violin-stringvoiceofhers,Heshie!Please!Idonotneedgoyischenaches!Didn'tneed,didn'twantsuchridiculouspleasuresand satisfactions asmade the gentiles happy . . . At football our Jewish high

school was notoriously hopeless (though the band, may I say, was alwayswinning prizes and commendations ); our pathetic record was of course adisappointmenttotheyoung,nomatterwhattheparentsmightfeel,andyetevenas a child one was able to understand that for us to lose at football was notexactly theultimatecatastrophe.Here, in fact,wasacheer thatmycousinandhis buddies used to send up from the stands at the end of a game in whichWeequahic had once againmetwith seeming disaster. I used to chant it withthem.

Ikey,Mikey,JakeandSam,

Weretheboyswhoeatnoham,

Weplayfootball,weplaysoccer-

Andwekeepmatzohsinourlocker!

Aye,aye,aye,WeequahicHigh!

Sowhatifwehadlost?Itturnedoutwehadotherthingstobeproudof.Weatenoham.Wekeptmatzohsinourlockers.Notreally,ofcourse,butifwewantedtowecould,andweweren'tashamedtosaythatu)eactuallydid!WewereJews-and we weren't ashamed to say it!We were Jews-and not only were we notinferiortothegoyimwhobeatusatfootball,butthechanceswerethatbecausewe could not commit our hearts to victory in such a thuggish game,weweresuperior!WewereJews-andweweresuperior!

Whitebread,ryebread

Pumpernickel,challah,

AllthoseforWeequahic,

Standupandhollah!

Another cheer I learned from Cousin Hesh, four more lines of poetry todeepenmyunderstandingof theinjusticeswesuffered. . .Theoutrage,thedisgust inspired in my parents by the gentiles, was beginning to make somesense:thegoyimpretendedtobesomethingspecial,whilewewereactuallytheirmoral superiors.Andwhatmade us superiorwas precisely the hatred and the

disrespecttheylavishedsowillinglyuponus!

Onlywhataboutthehatredwelavisheduponthem?

AndwhataboutHeshieandAlice?Whatdidthatmean?

When all else failed. RabbiWarshaw was asked to join with the family oneSundayafternoon,tourgeourHeshienottotakehisyounglifeandturnitovertohisownworstenemy.Iwatchedfrombehindashadein the livingroom,asthe rabbi strode impressively up the front stoop in his big black coat.He hadgivenHeshiehis barmitzvah lessons, and I trembled to think that onedayhewouldgivememine.Heremainedinconsultationwiththedefiantboyandtheblightedfamilyforoveranhour.Overanhourofhistime,theyallsaidlater,asthough that alone should have changedHeshie'smind. But no sooner did therabbidepartthantheflakesofplasterbeganfallingonceagainfromtheceilingoverhead.Adoorflewopen-andIranforthebackofthehouse,tocrouchdownbehind the shade in my parents' bedroom. There was Heshie into the yard,pulling at his own black hair. Then came baldUncleHymie, one fist shakingviolentlyintheair-likeLeninhelooked!Andthenthemobofauntsandunclesandeldercousins,swarmingbetweenthetwosoastokeepthemfromgrindingoneanotherintoalittleheapofJewishdust.

OneSaturdayearlyinMay,aftercompetingalldayinastatewidetrackmeetinNew Brunswick, Heshie got back to the high school around dusk, and wentimmediatelyacross to the localhangout to telephoneAliceand tellher thathehad placed third in the state in the javelin throw. She told him that she couldneverseehimagainaslongashelived,andhungup.

AthomeUncleHymiewasreadyandwaiting:whathehaddone,hesaid,Heshiehadforcedhimtodo;whathisfatherhadhadtodothatday,Haroldhadbroughtdown himself upon his own stubborn, stupid head. It was as though ablockbuster had finally fallen upon Newark, so terrifying was the sound thatbrokeonthestairway:Heshcamechargingoutofhisparents'apartment,downthestairs,pastourdoor,andintothecellar,andonelongboomrolledafterhim.Wesawlaterthathehadrippedthecellardoorfromitstopmosthingewiththeforceofashoulderthatsurelyseemedfromthatpieceofevidencetobeatleastthe third most powerful shoulder in the state. Beneath our floorboards thebreakingofglassbeganalmost immediately, asheburiedbottleafterbottleofSqueezefromonedarkendofthewhitewashedcellartotheother.

Whenmy uncle appeared at the top of the cellar steps,Heshie raised a bottleover his head and threatened to throw it in his father's face if he advanced somuchasastepdownthestairway.UncleHymieignoredthewarningandstartedafterhim.Heshienowbegan torace inandoutbetweenthefurnaces, tocircleand circle thewashingmachines-still wielding the bottle of Squeeze. Butmyuncle stalked him into a corner,wrestled him to the floor, and held him thereuntilHeshiehadscreamedhislastobscenity-heldhimthere(soPortnoylegendhasit)fifteenminutes,untilthetearsofsurrenderatlastappearedonhisHeshie'slongdarkHollywoodlashes.Wearenotafamilythattakesdefectionlightly.

ThatmorningUncleHymiehad telephonedAliceDembosky (in thebasementflat of an apartment building onGoldsmithAvenue,where her fatherwas thejanitor)andtoldherthathewantedtomeetherbythelakeinWeequahicParkatnoon;itwasaveryurgentmatterinvolvingHarold'shealth-hecouldnottalkatlengthonthephone,asevenMrs.Portnoydidn'tknowallthefacts.Atthepark,hedrew theskinnyblondewearing thebabushka into the frontseatof thecar,andwith thewindows rolled up, told her that his son had an incurable blooddisease,adiseaseaboutwhichthepoorboyhimselfdidnotevenknow.Thatwashisstory,badblood,makeofitwhatyouwill...Itwasthedoctor'sordersthatheshouldnotmarryanyone,ever.HowmuchlongerHaroldhadtolivenoonereallyknew,butasfarasMr.Portnoywasconcerned,hedidnotwanttoinflictthesufferingthatwastocome,uponaninnocentyoungpersonlikeherself.Tosoftentheblowhewantedtoofferthegirlagift,alittlesomethingthatshecouldusehowevershewished,maybeeventohelpherfindsomebodynew.Hedrewfrom his pocket an envelope containing five twenty-dollar bills. And dumb,frightenedAliceDemboskytookit.ThusprovingsomethingthateverybodybutHeshie(andI)hadsurmisedaboutthePolackfromthebeginning:thatherplanwastotakeHeshieforallhisfather'smoney,andthenruinhislife.

WhenHeshiewaskilledinthewar,theonlythingpeoplecouldthinktosaytomy Aunt Clara and my Uncle Hymie, to somehow mitigate the horror, tosomehowconsole them in their grief,was,At least hedidn't leaveyouwith ashiksewife.Atleasthedidn'tleaveyouwithgoyischechildren.

EndofHeshieandhisstory.

EvenifIconsidermyselftoomuchofabigshottosetfootinsideasynagogueforfifteenminutes-whichisallheisasking-atleastIshouldhaverespectenoughtochangeintodecentclothesforthedayandnotmakeamockeryofmyself,my

family,andmyreligion.

I'msorry,Imumble,myback(asisusual)allIwillofferhimtolookatwhileIspeak,butjustbecauseit'syourreligiondoesn'tmeanit'smine.

Whatdidyousay?Turnaround,mister,Iwantthecourtesyofareplyfromyourmouth.

Idon'thaveareligion,Isay,andobliginglyturninhisdirection,aboutafractionofadegree.

Youdon't,eh?

Icant.

And why not? You're something special? Look at me! You're somebody toospecial?

Idon'tbelieveinGod.

Getoutofthosedungarees,Alex,andputonsomedecentclothes.

They'renotdungarees,they'reLevis.

It'sRoshHashanah,Alex,and tomeyou'rewearingoveralls!Get in thereandputatieonandajacketonandapairoftrousersandacleanshirt,andcomeoutlookinglikeahumanbeing.Andshoes,Mister,hardshoes.

Myshirtisclean-

Oh,you'reridingforafall,Mr.Big.You'refourteenyearsold,andbelieveme,youdon'tknoweverythingthereistoknow.Getoutofthosemoccasins!Whatthehellareyousupposedtobe,somekindofIndian?

Look,Idon'tbelieveinGodandIdon'tbelieveintheJewishreligion-orinanyreligion.They'realllies.

Oh,theyare,arethey?

I'm not going to act like these holidaysmean anythingwhen they don't!Andthat'sallI'msaying!

Maybetheydon'tmeananythingbecauseyoudon'tknowanythingaboutthem,Mr.BigShot.WhatdoyouknowaboutthehistoryofRoshHashanah?Onefact?Twofactsmaybe?WhatdoyouknowaboutthehistorytheJewishpeople,thatyouhavetherighttocalltheirreligion,that'sbeengoodenoughforpeoplealotsmarterthanyouandalotolderthanyoufortwothousandyears-thatyoucancallallthatsufferingandheartachealie!

There is no such thing asGod, and there neverwas, and I'm sorry, but inmyvocabularythat'salie.

Thenwhocreatedtheworld,Alex?heaskscontemptuously.Itjusthappened,Isuppose,accordingtoyou.

Alex,saysmysister,allDaddymeansisevenifyoudon'twanttogowithhim,ifyouwouldjustchangeyourclothes-

Butforwhat?Iscream.Forsomethingthatneverexisted?Whydon'tyoutellmetogooutsideandchangemyclothesforsomealleycatorsometree-becauseatleasttheyexist!

Butyouhaven'tansweredme,Mr.EducatedWiseGuy,'myfathersays.Don'ttrytochangetheissue.Whocreatedtheworldandthepeopleinit?Nobody?

Right!Nobody!

Oh,sure,saysmyfather.That'sbrilliant. I'mgladIdidn'tget tohighschool ifthat'showbrilliantitmakesyou.

Alex, my sister says, and softly-as is her way-softly, because she is alreadybrokenalittlebittoo-maybeifyoujustputonapairofshoes-

Butyou'reasbadasheis,Hannah!Ifthere'snoGod,whatdoshoeshavetodowithit!

Onedayayearyouaskhimtodosomethingforyou,andhe'stoobigforit.Andthat'sthewholestory,Hannah,ofyourbrother,ofhisrespectandlove...

Daddy,he'sagoodboy.Hedoesrespectyou,hedoesloveyou-

Andwhat about the Jewishpeople?He is shoutingnowandwavinghis arms,

hopingthatthiswillpreventhimfrombreakingintotears-becausethewordlovehas only to be whispered in our house for all eyes immediately to begin tooverflow.Doesherespect them?Justasmuchasherespectsme, justaboutasmuch...Suddenlyheissizzling-heturnsonmewithanothernewandbrilliantthought.Tellme something, do you knowTalmud,my educated son?Do youknowhistory?One-two-three youwere barmitzvah, and that for youwas theendofyourreligiouseducation.DoyouknowmenstudytheirwholelivesintheJewishreligion,andwhentheydietheystillhaven'tfinished?Tellme,nowthatyouareallfinishedatfourteenbeingaTew,doyouknowasinglethingaboutthewonderfulhistoryandheritageofthesagaofyourpeople

Buttherearealreadytearsonhischeeks,andmoreareonthewayfromhiseyes.A'sinschool,hesays,butinlifehe'sasignorantasthedayhewasborn.

Well,itlooksasthoughthetimehascomeatlast-soIsayit.It'ssomethingI'veknownforalittlewhilenow.

You'retheignorantone!You!

Alex! criesmy sister, grabbing formy hand, as though fearful Imay actuallyraiseitagainsthim.

Butheis!Withallthatstupidsagashit!

Quiet!Still!Enough!criesHannah.Gotoyourroom-

-Whilemyfathercarrieshimselftothekitchentable,hisheadsunkforwardandhis body doubled over, as though he has just taken a hand grenade in hisstomach.Whichhehas.WhichIknow.YoucanwearragsforallIcare,youcandress likeapeddler,youcanshameandembarrassmeallyouwant,curseme,Alexander,defyme,hitme,hateme-

Thewayitusuallyworks,mymothercriesinthekitchen,myfathercriesintheliving room-hiding his eyes behind the Newark News-Hannah cries in thebathroom,andIcryontherunbetweenourhouseandthepinballmachineatthecorner.ButonthisparticularRoshHashanaheverythingisdisarranged,andwhymy father is crying in the kitchen instead ofmymother-why he sobswithoutprotectionofthenewspaper,andwithsuchpitifulfury-isbecausemymotherisin a hospital bed recovering from surgery: this indeed accounts for hisexcrutiating loneliness on this Rosh Hashanah, and his particular need of my

affectionandobedience.Butat thismoment in thehistoryofour family, ifheneeds it, you can safely bet money that he is not going to get it from me.Becausemyneedisnottogiveittohim!Oh,yes,we'llturnthetablesonhim,allright,won'twe,Alexyoulittleprick!Yes,Alexthelittleprickfindsthathisfather's ordinary day-to-day vulnerability is somewhat aggravated by the factthattheman'swife(orsotheytellme)hasverynearlyexpired,andsoAlexthelittlepricktakestheopportunitytodrivethedaggerofhisresentmentjustafewinchesdeeperintowhatisalreadyableedingheart.AlexandertheGreat!

No!There'smoreherethanjustadolescentresentmentandOedipalrage-there'smy integrity! I will not do what Heshie did! For I go through childhoodconvincedthathadheonlywantedto,mypowerfulcousinHeshie,thethirdbestjavelin thrower inallNewJersey(anhonor,Iwouldthink,richinsymbolismfor this growing boy, with visions of jockstraps dancing in his head), couldeasilyhaveflippedmyfifty-year-olduncleoverontohisback,andpinnedhimtothecellarfloor.Sothen(Iconclude)hemusthavelostonpurpose.Butwhy?Forhe knew-I surely knew it, even as a child-that his father had done somethingdishonorable.Was he then afraid to win? But why, when his own father hadactedsovilely,andinHeshie'sbehalf!Wasitcowardice?fear?-orperhapswasitHeshie'swisdom?Wheneverthestoryistoldofwhatmyunclewasforcedtodotomakemydeadcousinseethelight,orwheneverIhavecausetoreflectuponthe event myself, I sense some enigma at its center, a profound moral truth,which if only I could grasp, might save me and my own father from someultimate, but unimaginable, confrontation.Why did Heshie capitulate? AndshouldI?ButhowcanI,andstillremaintruetomyselfOh,butwhydon'tIjusttry!Giveitalittletry,youlittleprick!Sodontbesotruetoyourselfforhalfanhour!

Yes,Imustgivein,Imust,particularlyasIknowallmyfatherhasbeenthrough,what minute by minute misery there has been for him during these tens ofthousandsofminutesithastakenthedoctorstodetermine,first, thattherewassomethinggrowinginmymother'suterus,andsecond,whetherthegrowththeyfinallylocatedwasmalignant. . .whetherwhatshehadwas. . .oh,thatwordwecannotevenspeakinoneanother'spresence!thewordwecannotevenspellout in all its horrible entirety! thewordwe allude to only by the euphemisticabbreviationthatsheherselfsupplieduswithbeforeenteringthehospitalforhertests:C-A.Andgenug!Then,thec,thee,ther,wedon'tneedtoheartofrightenus toKingdomCome!How brave she is, all our relatives agree, just to utterthosetwoletters!Andaren'tthereenoughwholewordsasitistowhisperateach

other behind closed doors? There are! There are! Ugly and cold little wordsreekingoftheetherandalcoholofhospitalcorridors,wordswithalltheappealof sterilized surgical instruments, words like smear andbiopsy . . . And thenthere are the words that furtively, at home alone, I used to look up in thedictionaryjusttoseethemthereinprint,thehardevidenceofthatmostremoteofallrealities,wordslikeandvaginaandcervix,wordswhosedefinitionswillnever again servemeas a sourceof illicit pleasure . . .And then there is thatwordwewaitandwaitandwaittohear,thewordwhoseutterancewillrestoretoourfamilywhatnowseemstohavebeenthemostwonderfulandsatisfyingoflives,thatwordthatsoundstomyearlikeHebrew,likeb'naiorboruch-benign!Benign!BoruchatohAdonai,letitbebenign!BlessedartthouOLordOurGod,letitbebenign!HearOIsrael,andshinedownthycountenance,andtheLordisOne,andhonor thy father, andhonor thymother,and Iwill Iwill Ipromise Iwill-onlyletitbebenign!

Anditwas.AcopyofDragonSeedbyPearlS.Buckisopenonthetablebesidethebed,wherethereisalsoahalf-emptyglassofflatgingerale.It'shotandI'mthirstyandmymother,mymindreader,saysIshouldgoaheadanddrinkwhat'sleft inherglass,Ineeditmorethanshedoes.ButdryasIam,Idon'twant todrinkfromanyglasstowhichshehasputherlips-forthefirsttimeinmylifetheideafillsmewithrevulsion!Take. I'mnot thirsty.Lookhowyou'reperspiring.I'mnotthirsty.Don'tbepoliteallofasudden.ButIdon'tlikegingerale.You?Don'tlikegingerale?NoSincewhen?Oh,God!She'salive,andsoweareatitagain-she'salive,andrightoffthebatwe'restartingin!

ShetellsmehowRabbiWarshawcameandsatandtalkedwithherforawholehalf hour before-as she now so graphically puts it-she went under the knife.Wasn't hat nice? Wasn't that thoughtful? (Only twenty-four hours out of theanesthetic,andsheknows,yousee,thatIrefusedtochangeoutofmyLevisforthe holiday! ) The woman who is sharing the room with her, whose loving,devouringgazeIamtryingtoedgeoutof,andwhoseopinion,asIrememberit,nobodyhadaskedfor,takesituponherselftoannouncethatRabbiWarshawisoneofthemostreveredmeninallofNewark.Re-ver-ed.Threesyllables,astherabbihimselfwouldenunciateit,inhismightyAnglo-oracularstyle.Ibegintolightlypoundatthepocketofmybaseballmitt,asignalthatIamaboutreadytogo,ifonlysomeonewillletme.Helovesbaseball,hecouldplaybaseballtwelvemonthsayear,mymother tellsMrs.Re-ver-ed. Imumble that Ihavea leaguegame.It'sthefinals.Forthechampionship.Okay,saysmymother,andlovingly,youcame,youdidyourduty,nowrun-runtoyourleaguegame.Icanhear in

hervoicehowhappyand relieved she is to findherself aliveon thisbeautifulSeptemberafternoon...Andisn'titareliefforme,too?Isn'tthiswhatIprayedfor, to aGod I do not even believe is there?Wasn't the unthinkable thing lifewithouther tocookforus, tocleanforus, to . . . toeverything forus!Thisiswhat I prayed andwept for: that she should come out at the other end of heroperation,andbealive.Andthencomehome,tobeonceagainouroneandonlymother.Run,mybaby-boy,mymothercroonstome,andsweetly-oh,shecanbesosweetandgood tome, somotherly! shewill spendhourafterhourplayingcanastawithme,whenIamsickandinbedassheisnow:imagine,thegingerale thenursehasbrought forherbecause shehashada seriousoperation, sheofferstome,becauseI'moverheated!Yes,shewillgivemethefoodoutofhermouth, that's a proven fact! And still I will not stay five full minutes at herbedside.Run,saysmymother,whileMrs.Re-ver-ed,whoinnotimeatallhasmanagedtomakeherselfmyenemy,andfortherestofmylife,Mrs.Re-ver-edsays,SoonMotherwillbehome,sooneverythingwillbejustlikeordinary...Sure,run,run,theyallrunthesedays,saysthekindandunderstandinglady-oh,theyareall sokindandunderstanding, Iwant to strangle them!-walking theyneverheardof,Godblessthem.

So I run. Do I run! Having spent maybe two fretful minutes with her-twominutesofmyprecioustime,eventhoughjustthedaybefore,thedoctorsstuckrightupherdress(soIimaginedit,beforemymotherremindedmeoftheknife,ourknife)somekindofhorribleshovelwithwhichtoscoopoutwhathadgonerotteninsideherbody.Theyreachedupandpulleddownoutofherjustwhatsheused to reach up and pull down out of the dead chicken.And threw it in thegarbagecan.WhereIwasconceivedandcarried,therenowisnothing.Avoid!PoorMother!HowcanIrushtoleaveherlikethis,afterwhatshehasjustgonethrough?Afterallshehasgivenme-myvery life!-howcanIbesocruel?Willyou leave me, my baby-boy, will you ever leave Mommy? Never, I wouldanswer,never,never,never...Andyetnowthatsheishollowedout,Icannotevenlookherintheeye!Andhaveavoideddoingsoeversince!Oh,thereisherpaleredhair,spreadacross thepillowin longstrandsofspringyringlets that Imightneverhaveseenagain.Therearethefaintmoonsoffrecklesthatshesaysusedtocoverherentirefacewhenshewasasmallchild,andthatIwouldneverhaveseenagain.Andtherearethoseeyesofreddishbrown,eyesthecolorofthecrustofhoneycake,andstillopen,stilllovingme!Therewashergingerale-andthirstyasIwas,Icouldnothaveforcedmyselftodrinkit!

SoIranallright,outofthehospitalanduptotheplaygroundandrightout 'to

centerfield,thepositionIplayforasoftballteamthatwearssilkyblue-and-goldjackets with the name of the club scrawled in big white felt letters from oneshoulder to theother:SEABEES,A.C.ThankGod for theSeabeesA.C.!ThankGodforcenterfield!Doctor,youcan'timaginehowtrulygloriousitisoutthere,soaloneinallthatspace...Doyouknowbaseballatall?Becausecenterfieldislikesomeobservationpost,akindofcontroltower,whereyouareabletosee everything and everyone, to understand what's happening the instant ithappens,notonlybythesoundofthestruckbat,butbythesparkofmovementthatgoesthroughtheinfieldersinthefirstsecondthat theballcomesflyingatthem;andonceitgetsbeyondthem,It'smine,youcall,it'smine,andthenafterityougo.Forincenterfield,ifyoucangettoit,itisyours.Oh,howunlikemyhome it is to be in center field, where no one will appropriate unto himselfanythingthatIsayismine!

Unfortunately,Iwastooanxiousahittertomakethehighschoolteam-Iswungandmissedatbadpitchessooftenduringthetryoutsforthefreshmansquadthateventually the ironical coach tookmeasideandsaid,Sonny,areyousureyoudon'twearglasses?andthensentmeonmyway.ButdidIhaveform!didIhavestyle!Andinmyplaygroundsoftballleague,wheretheballcameinjustalittleslowerandalittlebigger,IamthestarIdreamedImightbecomeforthewholeschool.Ofcourse,still inmyardentdesire toexcel I toofrequentlyswingandmiss,butwhenIconnect,itgoesgreatdistances.Doctor,itfliesoverfencesandiscalledahomerun.Oh,andthereisreallynothinginlife,nothingatall, thatquitecompareswith thatpleasureof roundingsecondbaseataniceslowclip,becausethere'sjustnohurryanymore,becausethatballyou'vehithasjustgonesailingoutofsight . . .AndIcouldfield, too,andthefartherIhadtorun, thebetter.Igotit!Igotit!Igotit!andtearintowardsecond,totrapinthewebbingofmyglove-andbarelyan inchoff theground-aballdrivenhardand lowandrightdownthemiddle,abasehit,someonethought...OrbackIgo,Igotit,Igot it-backeasilyandgracefully towardthatwirefence,movingpractically inslowmotion, and then that delicious DiMaggio sensation of grabbing it likesomethingheaven-sentoveroneshoulder...Orrunning!turning!leaping!likelittleAlGionfriddo-abaseballplayer.Doctor,whooncedidaverygreatthing...Or just standingniceandcalm-nothing trembling,everythingserene-standingthereinthesunshine(asthoughinthemiddleofanemptyfield,orpassingthetimeonthestreetcorner),standingwithoutacareintheworldinthesunshine,likemykingofkings,theLordmyGod,TheDukeHimself(Snider,Doctor,thenamemaycomeupagain),standingthereaslooseandaseasy,ashappyasIwilleverbe,justwaitingbymyselfunderahighflyball(atoweringflyball,Ihear

Red Barber say, as he watches from behind his microphone-hit out towardPortnoy;Alexunder it,under it), justwaiting there for theball to fall into thegloveIraisetoit,andyup,thereitis,plock,thethirdoutoftheinning(andAlexgathersitinforoutnumberthree,and,folks,here'soldC.D.forP.LorillardandCompany),andtheninonemotion,whileoldConniebringsusamessagefromOldGolds,Istartintowardthebench,holdingtheballnowwiththefivefingersofmybarelefthand,andwhenIgettotheinfield-havingcomedownhardwithonefootonthebagatsecondbase-Ishootitgently,withjustaflickofthewrist,attheopposingteam'sshortstopashecomestrottingoutontothefield,andstillwithout breaking stride, go loping in all the way, shoulders shifting, headhanging, a touch pigeon-toed, my knees coming slowly up and down in analtogetherbrilliantimitationofTheDuke.Oh,theunrufflednonchalanceofthatgame!There'snotamovementthatIdon'tknowstilldowninthetissueofmymusclesandthejointsbetweenmybones.Howtobendovertopickupmygloveandhow to toss it away,how to test theweightof thebat,how tohold it andcarryitandswingitaroundintheon-deckcircle,howtoraisethatbatabovemyhead and flex and loosen my shoulders and my neck before stepping in andplantingmytwofeetexactlywheremytwofeetbelongin thebatter'sbox-andhow,whenItakeacalledstrike(whichIhaveatendencytodo,itbalancesoffnicelyswingingatbadpitches),tostepoutandexpress,ifonlythroughaslightpokingwiththebatattheground,justtherightamountofexasperationwiththepowers thatbe . . . yes, every littledetail so thoroughly studiedandmastered,that it is simply beyond the realm of possibility for any situation to arise inwhichIdonotknowhowtomove,orwhere tomove,orwhat tosayor leaveunsaid...Andit'strue,isitnot?-incredible,butapparentlytrue-therearepeoplewhofeel in life theease, theself-assurance, thesimpleandessentialaffiliationwithwhat isgoingon, thatIusedtofeelas thecenterfielderfor theSeabees?Becauseitwasn't,yousee,thatonewasthebestcenterfielderimaginable,onlythatoneknewexactly,anddowntothesmallestparticular,howacenterfieldershouldconducthimself.AndtherearepeoplelikethatwalkingthestreetsoftheU.S.ofA.?Iaskyou,whycan'tIbeone!Whycan'tIexistnowasIexistedfortheSeabeesoutthereincenterfield!Oh,tobeacenterfielder,acenterfielder-andnothingmore!

ButIamsomethingmore,orsotheytellme.AJew.No!No!Anatheist,Icry.Iamanothingwherereligionisconcerned,andIwillnotpretendtobeanythingthatIamnot!Idon'tcarehowlonelyandneedymyfatheris,thetruthaboutmeis the truthaboutme,andImsorrybuthe'll justhave toswallowmyapostasywhole!AndIdon'tcarehowclosewecametosittingshivaformymothereither-

actually, I wonder now if maybe the whole hysterectomy has not beendramatizedintoC-AandoutofitagainsolelyforthesakeofscaringtheS-Houtofme!Solelyforthesakeofhumblingandfrighteningmeintobeingonceagainanobedientandhelplesslittleboy!AndIfindnoargumentfortheexistenceofGod,orforthebenevolenceandvirtueoftheJews,inthefactthatthemostre-ver-ed man in all of Newark came to sit for a whole half hour beside mymother'sbed.Ifheemptiedherbedpan,ifhefedherhermeals,thatmightbethebeginningofsomething,buttocomeforhalfanhourandsitbesideabed?Whatelse has he got to do,Mother? To him, uttering beautiful banalities to peoplescaredoutoftheirwits-thatistohimwhatplayingbaseballistome!Helovesit!Andwhowouldn't?Mother,RabbiWarshawisafat,pompous,impatientfraud,withanabsolutelygrotesquesuperioritycomplex,acharacteroutofDickensiswhatheis,someonewhoifyoustoodnexttohimonthebusanddidn'tknowhewassorevered,youwouldsay,Thatmanstinkstohighheavenofcigarettes,andthat isallyouwouldsay.This isamanwhosomewherealongthelinegot theideathatthebasicunitofmeaningintheEnglishlanguageisthesyllable.Sonowordhepronounceshas less than threeof them,not even thewordGod.Youshouldhear thesonganddancehemakesoutofIsrael.Forhimit'sas longasrefrigerator!Anddoyourememberhimatmybarmitzvah,whatafielddayhehadwithAlexanderPortnoy?Why,Mother,didhekeepcallingmebymywholename? Why, except to impress all you idiots in the audience with all thosesyllables! And it worked! It actually worked! Don't you understand, thesynagogueishowheearnshisliving,andthat'sallthereistoit.Comingtothehospitaltobebrilliantaboutlife(syllablebysyllable)topeoplewhoareshakingintheirpajamasaboutdeathishisbusiness,justasitismyfather'sbusinesstoselllifeinsurance!Itiswhattheyeachdotoearnaliving,andifyouwanttofeelpiousaboutsomebody,feelpiousaboutmyfather,Goddamnit,andbowdowntohimthewayyoubowdowntothatbigfatcomicalsonofabitch,becausemyfather really works his balls off and doesn't happen to think that he is God'sspecialassistantintothebargain.Anddoesn'tspeakinthosefuckingsyllables!I-awan-ttto-awel-come-ayou-ewtoootheesy-no-gawg-a.OhGod,ohGuh-ah-duh, ifyou'reup thereshiningdownyourcountenance,whynotspareusfromhere on out the enunciation of the rabbis! Why not spare us the rabbisthemselves!Look,whynotspareusreligion,ifonlyinthenameofourhumandignity!GoodChrist,Mother,thewholeworldknowsalready,sowhydon'tyou?Religionistheopiateofthepeople!Andifbelievingthatmakesmeafourteen-year-oldCommunist,thenthat'swhatIam,andI'mproudofit!IwouldratherbeaCommunistinRussiathanaJewinasynagogueanyday-soItellmyfatherright to his face, too.Another grenade to the gut iswhat it turns out to be (I

suspectedasmuch),butI'msorry,Ihappentobelieveintherightsofman,rightssuch as are extended in the Soviet Union to all people, regardless of race,religion,orcolor.Mycommunism,infact,iswhyInowinsistoneatingwiththecleaningladywhenIcomehomeformylunchonMondaysandseethatsheisthere-Iwill eatwithher.Mother, at the same table,and the same food. Is thatclear? If I get leftover pot roast warmed-up, then she gets leftover pot roastwarmed-up,andnotcreamyMuensteror tunaeither, servedona specialglassplate that doesn't absorb her germs! But no, no.Mother doesn't get the idea,apparently. Too bizarre, apparently. Eat with the shvartze?What could I betalking about? Shewhispers tome in the hallway, the instant I come in fromschool,Wait, thegirlwillbefinishedinafewminutes . . .ButIwillnot treatanyhumanbeing(outsidemyfamily)asinferior!Can'tyougraspsomethingoftheprincipleofequality,Goddamnit!AndItellyou,ifheeverusesthewordniggerinmypresenceagain,Iwilldrivearealdaggerintohisfuckingbigotedheart!Isthatcleartoeveryone?Idon'tcarethathisclothesstinksobadafterhecomeshomefromcollectingthecoloreddebit that theyhavetobehunginthecellar to air out. I don't care that they drive him nearly crazy letting theirinsurancelapse.Thatisonlyanotherreasontobecompassionate,Goddamnit,to be sympathetic and understanding and to stop treating the cleaning lady asthoughsheweresomekindofmule,without thesamepassion fordignity thatotherpeoplehave!Andthatgoesforthegoyim,too!Weallhaven'tbeenluckyenough to have been born Jews, you know. So a little rachmones on the lessfortunate,okay?BecauseIamsickandtiredofgoyischethisandgoyischethat!Ifit'sbadit'sthegoyim,ifit'sgoodit'stheJews!Can'tyousee,mydearparents,fromwhoseloinsIsomehowleaped,thatsuchthinkingisatriflebarbaric?Thatallyouareexpressingisyourfear?TheveryfirstdistinctionIlearnedfromyou.I'msure,wasnotnightandday,orhotandcold,butgoyischeandJewish!Butnow it turns out,my dear parents, relatives, and assembled friendswho havegathered here to celebrate the occasion of my bar mitzvah, it turns out, youschmucks!younarrow-mindedschmucks!-oh,howIhateyouforyourJewishnarrow-mindedminds!includingyou.RabbiSyllable,whohaveforthelasttimeinyour life sentmeout to thecorner foranotherpackofPallMall cigarettes,fromwhichyoureekincasenobodyhasevertoldyou-itturnsoutthatthereisjustalittlebitmoretoexistencethanwhatcanbecontainedinthosedisgustinganduselesscategories!Andinsteadofcryingoverhe-whorefusesattheageoffourteenevertosetfootinsideasynagogueagain,insteadofwailingforhe-whohasturnedhisbackonthesagaofhispeople,weepforyourownpatheticselves,whydon'tyou, suckingand suckingon that sourgrapeof a religion! JewJewJewJewJewJew!Itiscomingoutofmyearsalready,thesagaofthesuffering

Jews! Do me a favor, my people, and stick your suffering heritage up yoursufferingass-Ihappenalsotobeahumanbeing!

ButyouareaJew,mysistersays.YouareaJewishboy,morethanyouknow,andallyou'redoing ismakingyourselfmiserable,allyou'redoing isholleringinto the wind . . . Through my tears I see her patiently explaining mypredicamenttomefromtheendofmybed.IfIamfourteen,sheiseighteen,andin her first year at Newark State Teacher's College, a big sallow-faced girl,oozing melancholy at every pore. Sometimes with another big, homely girlnamedEdnaTepper (whohas,however, to recommendher, tits thesizeofmyhead),shegoestoafolkdanceattheNewarkY.Thissummersheisgoingtobecrafts counselor in the Jewish Community Center day camp. I have seen herreadingapaperbackbookwithagreenishcovercalledAPortraitoftheArtistasaYoungMan.AllIseemtoknowaboutherarethesefewfacts,andofcoursethesizeandsmellofherbrassiereandpanties.Whatyearsofconfusion!Andwhenwill they be over? Can you giveme a tentative date, please?Whenwill I becuredofwhatI'vegot!

Doyouknow,sheasksme,whereyouwouldbenowifyouhadbeenborn inEuropeinsteadofAmerica?

Thatisn'ttheissue,Hannah.

Dead,shesays.

Thatisn'ttheissue!

Dead. Gassed, or shot, or incinerated, or butchered, or buried alive. Do youknow that?Andyoucouldhave screamedall youwanted thatyouwerenot aJew, that youwere a human being and had nothingwhatever to dowith theirstupid suffering heritage, and still you would have been taken away to bedisposedof.Youwouldbedead,andIwouldbedead,and

Butthatisn'twhatI'mtalkingabout!

Andyourmotherandyourfatherwouldbedead.

Butwhyareyoutakingtheirside!

I'm not taking anybody's side, she says. I'm only telling you he's not such anignorantpersonasyouthink.

Andsheisn'teither,Isuppose!IsupposetheNazismakeeverythingshesaysanddoessmartandbrilliant too! I suppose theNazisareanexcuse foreverythingthathappensinthishouse!

Oh,Idon'tknow,saysmysister,maybe,maybetheyare,andnowshebeginstocrytoo,andhowmonstrousIfeel,forsheshedshertearsforsixmillion,orsoIthink,whileIshedmineonlyformyself.OrsoIthink.

CUNTCRAZY

DidImentionthatwhenIwasfifteenItookitoutofmypantsandwhackedoffontheI07busfromNewYork?

IhadbeentreatedtoaperfectdaybymysisterandMortyFeibish,herfiance-adoubleheader at Ebbets Field, followed afterward by a seafood dinner atSheepsheadBay.Anexquisiteday.HannahandMortyweretostayovernightinFlatbushwithMorty'sfamily,andsoIwasputonasubwaytoManhattanaboutteno'clock-andthereboardedthebusforNewJersey,uponwhichItooknotjustmy cock in my hands but my whole life, when you think about it. Thepassengers were mostly drowsing off before we had even emerged from the

LincolnTunnel-includingthegirlintheseatbesideme,whosetartanskirtfoldsIhadbeguntopressupagainstwiththecorduroyofmytrouserlegs-andIhaditoutandinmyfistbythetimewewereclimbingontothePulaskiSkyway.

Youmighthavethoughtthatgiventherichsatisfactionsoftheday.I'dhavehadmyfillofexcitementandmydickwouldhavebeenthelast thingonmymindheadinghomethatnight.BruceEdwards,anewcatcherupfromtheminors-andjust what we needed (we beingMorty,myself, and Burt Shotton, the Dodgermanager)-had gone something like six for eight in his first two games in themajors (orwas it Furillo? at any rate, how insanewhipping outmy joint likethat!imaginewhatwouldhavebeenhadIbeencaughtred-handed!imagineifIhadgoneaheadandcomealloverthatsleepingshikse'sgoldenarm!)andthenfordinnerMortyhadorderedmealobster,thefirstofmylife.

Now,maybethelobsteriswhatdidit.Thattaboosoeasilyandsimplybroken,confidencemayhavebeengiventothewholeslimy,suicidalDionysiansideofmynature;thelessonmayhavebeenlearnedthattobreakthelaw,allyouhaveto do is-just go ahead and break it!All you have to do is stop trembling andquakingandfindingitunimaginableandbeyondyou:allyouhavetodo,isdoit!Whatelse,Iaskyou,wereallthoseprohibitivedietaryrulesandregulationsallabout to beginwith,what else but to give us little Jewish children practice inbeingrepressed?Practice,darling,practice,practice,practice.Inhibitiondoesn'tgrowon trees,youknow-takespatience, takesconcentration, takesadedicatedandself-sacrificingparent andahard-workingattentive little child tocreate inonlyafewyears'timeareallyconstrainedandtight-asshumanbeing.Whyelsethetwosetsofdishes?Whyelsethekoshersoapandsalt?Whyelse,Iaskyou,but toremindus three timesadaythat life isboundariesandrestrictions if it'sanything, hundreds of thousands of little rules laid down by none other thanNoneOther, ruleswhich either you obeywithout question, regardless of howidiotic theymayappear (and thus remain,byobeying, inHisgoodgraces),oryou transgress,most likely in thenameofoutragedcommonsense-whichyoutransgressbecauseevenachilddoesn'tliketogoaroundfeelinglikeanabsolutemoron and schmuck-yes, you transgress, only with the strong likelihood (myfatherassuresme)thatcomesnextYomKippurandthenamesarewritteninthebigbookwhereHewritesthenamesofthosewhoaregoingtogettoliveuntilthe following September (a scene which manages somehow to engrave itselfuponmyimagination),andlo,yourownpreciousnameain'tamongthem.Nowwho's the schmuck, hub? And it doesn't make any difference either (this Iunderstandfromtheoutset,aboutthewaythisGod,Whorunsthings,reasons)

howbigorhowsmalltheruleisthatyoubreak:it'sthebreakingalonethatgetsHisgoat-it'sthesimplefactofwaywardness,andthatalone,thatHeabsolutelycannot stand,andwhichHedoesnot forgeteither,whenHesits angrilydown(fuming probably, and surely with a smashing miserable headache, like myfatherattheheightofhisconstipation)andbeginstoleavethenamesoutofthatbook.

Whenduty,discipline,andobediencegiveway-ah,here,here is themessageItake in eachPassoverwithmymother'smatzohbrei-what follows, there is nopredicting.Renunciation is all, cries thekosheredandbloodlesspieceof steakmyfamilyandIsitdowntoeatatdinnertime.Self-control,sobriety,sanctions-thisisthekeytoahumanlife,saithallthoseendlessdietarylaws.Letthegoyimsinktheirteethintowhateverlowlycreaturecrawlsandgruntsacrossthefaceofthe dirty earth,wewill not contaminate our humanity thus. Let them ( if youknowwhoImean)gorgethemselvesuponanythingandeverythingthatmoves,no matter how odious and abject the animal, no matter how grotesque orshmutzigordumbthecreatureinquestionhappenstobe.Letthemeateelsandfrogsandpigsandcrabsandlobsters;letthemeatvulture,letthemeatape-meatand skunk if they like-a diet of abominable creatures well befits a breed ofmankindsohopelesslyshallowandempty-headedastodrink,todivorce,andtofightwiththeirfists.Alltheyknow,theseimbeciliceatersoftheexecrable,istoswagger,toinsult,tosneer,andsoonerorlatertohit.Oh,alsotheyknowhowtogoout into thewoodswith agun, thesegeniuses, andkill innocentwilddeer,deerwho themselvesnosh quietly on berries and grasses and then go on theirway, bothering no one. You stupid goyim! Reeking of beer and empty ofammunition, home you head, a dead animal (formerly alive) strapped to eachfender,sothatallthemotoristsalongthewaycanseehowstrongandmanlyyouare;andthen,inyourhouses,youtakethesedeer-whohavedoneyou,whohavedonenothinginallofnature,not the leastbitofharm-youtake thesedeer,cutthemup intopieces, and cook them in a pot.There isn't enough to eat in thisworld, they have to eat up thedeer aswell! Theywill eat anything, anythingtheycanget their biggoy hands on!And the terrifying corollary, theywill doanythingaswell.Deer eatwhat deer eat, and Jews eatwhat Jews eat, but notthesegoyim.Crawlinganimals,wallowinganimals,leapingandangelicanimals-itmakesnodifference to them-what theywant they take,and tohellwith theother thing's feelings (let alone kindness and compassion).Yes, it's allwrittendown in history, what they have done, our illustrious neighborswho own theworldandknowabsolutelynothingofhumanboundariesandlimits.

...Thussaiththekosherlaws,atleasttothechildIwas,growingupunderthetutelageofSophieandJackP.,andinaschooldistrictofNewarkwhereinmyentireclassthereareonlytwolittleChristianchildren,andtheyliveinhousesIdonot enter, on the far fringesofourneighborhood . . . thus saith thekosherlaws,andwhoamI toargue that they'rewrong?For lookatAlexhimself, thesubjectofoureverysyllable-agefifteen,hesucksonenightonalobster'sclawandwithinthehourhiscockisoutandaimedatashikseonaPublicServicebus.AndhissuperiorJewishbrainmightaswellbemadeofmatzohbrei!

Such a creature, needless to say, has never been boiled alive in our house-thelobster, I refer to. A shikse has never been in our house period, and so it's amatter of conjecture in what condition she might emerge from my mother'skitchen.Thecleaningladyisobviouslyashikse,butshedoesn'tcountbecauseshe'sblack.

Haha.AshiksehasneverbeeninourhousebecauseIhavebroughtherthere,iswhatImeantosay.IdorecallonethatmyownfatherbroughthomewithhimfordinneronenightwhenIwasstillaboy:athin,tense,shy,deferential,soft-spoken,agingcashierfromhisofficenamedAnneMcCaffery.

Doctor,couldhehavebeenslippingittoher?Ican'tbelieveit!Onlyitsuddenlyoccurs tome.Couldmyfatherhavebeenslippingit to this ladyontheside?Ican still remember how she sat down beside me on the sofa, and in hernervousnessmadealengthyto-doofspellingherfirstname,andofpointingouttomehowitendedwithanE,whichwasn'talwaysthecasewithsomeonecalledAnne-andsoonandsoforth...andmeanwhile,thoughherarmswerelongandwhite and skinny and freckled (Irish arms, I thought) insideher smoothwhiteblouse, I could see she had breasts that were nice and substantial-and I kepttakingpeeksather legs, too. Iwasonlyeightornine,but she reallydidhavesuchaterrificpairoflegsthatIcouldn'tkeepmyeyesawayfromthem,thekindoflegsthateveryonceinawhileitsurprisesyoutofindsomepalespinsterwithapinchedfacewalkingaroundontopof...Withthoselegs-why,ofcoursehewasshtuppingher...Wasn'the?

Whyhebroughtherhome,hesaid,wasforarealJewishmeal.Forweekshehadbeen jabbering about the newgoyische cashier ( a very plain drab person, hesaid,whodressesinshmattas)whohadbeenpesteringhim-sowentthestoryhecouldn't stop telling us-for a real Jewishmeal from the day she had come towork in the Boston Northeastern office. Finally mymother couldn't take any

more.Allright,bringheralready-sheneedsitsobad,soIllgiveherone.Washecaughtalittlebysurprise?Whowilleverknow.

At any rate, a Jewishmeal iswhat she got all right. I don't think I have everheardthewordJewishspokensomanytimesinoneeveninginmylife,andletmetellyou,IamapersonwhohasheardthewordJewishspoken.

This is your real Jewish chopped liver,Anne.Have you ever had real Jewishchoppedliverbefore?Well,mywifemakestherealthing,youcanbetyourlifeonthat.Here,youeatitwithapieceofbread.ThisisrealJewishryebread,withseeds.That'sit,Anne,you'redoingverygood,ain'tshedoinggood,Sophie,forherfirsttime?That'sit,takeanicepieceofrealJewishrye,nowtakeabigforkfull of the real Jewish chopped liver -and on and on, right down to the jello-that'sright,Anne,thejelloiskoshertoo,sure,ofcourse,hastobe-ohno,ohno,nocreaminyourcoffee,notaftermeat,haha,hearwhatAnnewanted,Alex-?

Butbabble-babbleallyouwant,Daddear, aquestionhas justoccurred tome,twenty-fiveyearslater(notthatIhaveasingleshredofevidence,notthatuntilthis moment I have ever imagined my father capable of even the slightestinfractionofdomesticlaw...butsinceinfractionseemstoholdformeacertainfascination),aquestionhasarisenintheaudience:whydidyoubringashikse,ofallthings,intoourhome?Becauseyoucouldn'tbearthatagentilewomanshouldgo through life without the experience of eating a dish of Jewish jello? Orbecause you could no longer live your own life without making Jewishconfession? Without confronting your wife with your crime, so she mightaccuse, castigate, humiliate, punish, and thus bleed you forever of yourforbidden lusts! Yes, a regular Jewish desperado, my father. I recognize thesyndromeperfectly.Come, someone, anyone, findmeout and condemnme- Idid themost terrible thingyoucan thinkof: I tookwhat Iamnotsupposed tohave!Chosepleasureformyselfoverdutytomylovedones!Please,catchme,incarcerateme,beforeGodforbidIgetawaywithitcompletely-andgooutanddoagainsomethingIactuallylike!

Anddidmymotheroblige?DidSophieputtogetherthetwotitsandthetwolegsandcomeupwithfour?Meitseemstohavetakentwoandahalfdecadestodosuchsteepcalculation.Oh,Imustbemakingthisup,really.Myfather...andashikse?Can'tbe.Wasbeyondhisken.Myownfather-fuckedshikses?I'lladmitunderduressthathefuckedmymother...butshikses?Icannomoreimaginehimknockingoveragasstation.

But thenwhy is she shouting at him so,what is this scene of accusation anddenial, of castigation and threat and unending tears . . .what is this all aboutexcept that he has done something that is very bad and maybe evenunforgivable?Thesceneitself is likesomepieceofheavyfurniture thatsits inmymindandwillnotbudge-whichleadsmetobelievethat,yes,itactuallydidhappen.Mysister,Isee,ishidingbehindmymother:Hannahisclutchingheraroundthemiddleandwhimpering,whilemymother'sowntearsaretremendousandfallfromherfaceallthewaytothelinoleumfloor.Simultaneouslywiththetearssheisscreamingsoloudathimthatherveinsstandout-andscreamingatme,too,because,lookingfurtherintothisthing,IfindthatwhileHannahhidesbehindmymother,Itakerefugebehindtheculprithimself.

Oh,thisispurefantasy,thisisrightoutofthecasebook,isitnot?No,no,thatisnobodyelse's fatherbutmyownwhonowbringshis fistdownon thekitchentableandshoutsbackather,Ididnosuchthing!Thatisalieandwrong!Onlywaitaminute-it'smewhoisscreamingIdidn'tdoit!Theculpritisme!Andwhymymotherweepssoisbecausemyfatherrefusestopotchmybehind,whichshepromisedwouldbepotched,andgood,whenhefoundouttheterriblethingIhaddone.

WhenIambadand rotten insmallwaysshecanmanagemeherself: shehas,you recall-I know I recall!-only to put me in my coat and galoshes-oh, nicetouch, Morn, those galoshes!-lock me out of the house ( lock me out of thehouse!)andannouncethroughthedoorthatsheisnevergoingtoletmeinagain,soImightaswellbeoffandintomynewlife;shehasonlytotakethatsimpleand swift course of action to get instantaneously a confession, a self-scorification, and, if she should want it, a signed warranty that I will be onehundred percent pure and good for the rest of my life-all this if only I amallowedbackinsidethatdoor,wheretheyhappentohavemybedandmyclothesandtherefrigerator.ButwhenIamreallywicked,soevilthatshecanonlyraiseherarmstoGodAlmightytoaskHimwhatshehasdonetodeservesuchachild,atsuchtimesmyfatheriscalledintometeoutjustice;mymotherisherselftoosensitive,toofineacreature,it turnsout,toadministercorporalpunishment:Ithurtsme,IhearherexplaintomyAuntClara,morethanithurtshim.That'sthekindofpersonIam.Ican'tdoit,andthat'sthat.Oh,poorMother.

Butlook,whatisgoingonhereafterall?Surely,Doctor,wecanfigurethisthingout,twosmartJewishboyslikeourselves...Aterribleacthasbeencommitted,andithasbeencommittedbyeithermyfatherorme.Thewrongdoer,inother

words,isoneofthetwomembersofthefamilywhoownsapenis.Okay.Sofarsogood.Now:didhefuckbetweenthoselusciouslegsthegentilecashierfromthe office, or have I eatenmy sister's chocolate pudding?You see, she didn'twantitatdinner,butapparentlydidwantitsavedsoshecouldhaveitbeforeshewenttobed.Well,goodChrist,howwasIsupposedtoknowallthat,Hannah?Who looks into the fine points when he's hungry? I'm eight years old andchocolate pudding happens to get me hot. All I have to do is see that deepchocolateysurfacegleamingoutatmefromtherefrigerator,andmylifeisn'tmyown.Furthermore,Ithoughtitwasleftover!Andthat'sthetruth!JesusChrist,isthat what this screaming and shrying is all about, that I ate that sad sack'schocolatepudding?Even if Idid, Ididn'tmean it! I thought itwas somethingelse! I swear, I swear, I didn'tmean todo it! . . .But is thatme-ormy fatherholleringouthisdefensebeforethejury?Sure,that'shim-hedidit,okay,okay,Sophie,leavemealonealready,Ididit,butIdidn'tmeanit!Shit,thenextthinghe'lltellheriswhyheshouldbeforgivenisbecausehedidn'tlikeiteither.Whatdo youmean, you didn'tmean it, schmuck -you stuck it in there, didn't you?Thenstickupforyourselfnow,likeaman!Tellher,tellher:That'sright,Sophie,Islippedittotheshikse,andwhatyouthinkanddon'tthinkonthesubjectdon'tmeanshittome.Becausethewayitworks,incaseyouain'theard,isthatIamthemanaroundhere,andIcalltheshots!Andslugherifyouhaveto!Deckher,Jake! Surely that'swhat agoywould do,would he not?Do you think one ofthosebig-shotdeerhunterswithaguncollapsesinachairwhenhegetscaughtcommittingtheseventhandstartsweepingandbegginghiswifetobeforgiven?-forgiven forwhat?What after all does it consist of?You put your dick someplaceandmoveditbackandforthandstuffcameoutthefront.So,Jake,what'sthe big deal? How long did thewhole thing last that you should suffer suchdamnation from her mouth-such guilt, such recrimination and self-loathing!Poppa,whydowehavetohavesuchguiltydeferencetowomen,youandme-whenwedon't!Wemustn't!Whoshouldruntheshow,Poppa,isus!Daddyhasdonea terrible terrible thing,criesmymother-or is thatmy imagination?Isn'twhat she is sayingmore like, Oh, little Alex has done a terrible thing again,Daddy- Whatever, she lifts Hannah (of all people, Hannah!), who until thatmomentIhadneverreallytakenseriouslyasagenuineobjectofanybody'slove,takes her up into her arms and starts kissingher all over her sad andunlovedface,sayingthatherlittlegirl is theonlyoneinthewholewideworldshecanreallytrust...ButifIameight,Hannahistwelve,andnobodyispickingherup,Iassureyou,becausethepoorkid'sproblemisthatsheisoverweight,andhow,mymothersays.She'snotevensupposedtoeatchocolatepudding.Yeah,that'swhyItookit!Toughshit,Hannah,it'swhatthedoctorordered,notme.Ican't

helpitifyou'refatandsluggishandI'mskinnyandbrilliant.Ican'thelpitthatI'msobeautifultheystopMotherwhensheiswheelingmeinmycarriagesoasto get a good look at my gorgeous punim-you hear her tell that story, it'ssomethingImyselfhadnothingtodowith,it'sasimplefactofnature,thatIwasborn beautiful and youwere born, if not ugly, certainly not something peoplewantedtotakespeciallooksat.Andisthatmyfault,too?Howyouwereborn,fourwhole years before I even entered theworld?Apparently this is thewayGodwantsittobe,Hannah!Inthebigbook!

But the fact of the matter is, she doesn't seem to hold me responsible foranything: she just goes on being good to her darling little baby brother, andneveroncestrikesmeorcallsmeadirtyname.Itakeherchocolatepudding,andshetakesmyshit,andneversaysawordinprotest.JustkissesmebeforeIgotobed, and carefully crosses me going to school, and then stands back andobliginglyallowsherself tobe swallowedupby thewall (Iguess that'swhereshe is)when I am imitating formy beaming parents all the voices onAllen'sAlley,orbeingheralded torelativesfromoneendofNorthJersey to theotherformyperfectreportcard.BecausewhenIamnotbeingpunished,Doctor,IambeingcarriedaroundthathouselikethePopethroughthestreetsofRome...

Youknow,Icanreallycomeupwithnomorethanadozenmemoriesinvolvingmysisterfromthoseearlyyearsofmychildhood.Mostly,untilsheemergesinmyadolescenceastheonlysanepersoninthatlunaticasylumwhomIcantalkto,itisasthoughsheissomeoneweseemaybeonceortwiceayear-foranightor two shevisitswithus, eatingatour table, sleeping inoneofourbeds, andthen,poorfatthing,shejustblessedlydisappears.

EvenintheChineserestaurant,wheretheLordhasliftedthebanonporkdishesfortheobedientchildrenofIsrael,theeatingoflobsterCantoneseisconsideredbyGod(Whosemouthpieceonearth,inmatterspertainingtofood,ismyMorn)tobe totallyoutof thequestion.WhywecaneatpigonPellStreetandnotathomeisbecause...franklyIstillhaven'tgotthewholethingfiguredout,butatthetimeIbelieveithaslargelytodowiththefactthattheelderlymanwhoownsthe place, and whom amongst ourselves we call Shmendrick, isn't somebodywhoseopinionofuswehavecausetoworryabout.Yes,theonlypeopleintheworldwhomitseemstometheJewsarenotafraidofaretheChinese.Because,one,thewaytheyspeakEnglishmakesmyfathersoundlikeLordChesterfield;two,theinsidesoftheirheadsarejustsomuchfriedriceanyway;andthree,tothem we are not Jews butwhite-and maybe even Anglo-Saxon. Imagine! No

wonder the waiters can't intimidate us. To them we're just some big-nosedvarietyofWASP!Boy,doweeat!Suddenlyeventhepigisnothreat-though,tobesure, itcomes toussochoppedandshredded,and is thensetafloatonourplates in suchoceansof soy sauce, as to bear no resemblance at all to a porkchop,orahambone,or,mostdisgustingofall,asausage(ucchh!). ..Butwhythencan'tweeatalobster,too,disguisedassomethingelse?Allowmymotheralogicalexplanation.Thesyllogism,Doctor,asusedbySophiePortnoy.Ready?Whywecan'teat lobster.Because itcankillyou!Because Iate itonce,and Inearlydied!

Yes, she toohascommittedher transgressions,andhasbeendulypunished. Inherwildyouth(whichalltookplacebeforeIgottoknowher)shehadallowedherselftobebamboozled(whichistosay,flatteredandshamedsimultaneously)into eating lobsterNewburg by amischievous, attractive insurance agentwhoworked with my father for Boston Northeastern, a lush named ( could it bebetter?)Doyle.

ItwasataconventionheldbythecompanyinAtlanticCity,atanoisyfarewellbanquet,thatDoyleledmymothertobelievethateventhoughthatwasn'twhatitsmelledlike,theplatethewaiterhadshovedinfrontofhercorsagecontainednothingbutchickenalaking.Tobesure,shesensedthatsomethingwasupeventhen,suspectedevenasthehandsomedrunkenDoyletriedtofeedherwithherownforkthattragedy,asshecallsit,waslurkinginthewings.Buthighherselfonthefruitoftwowhiskeysours,sherashlyturnedupherlongJewishnosetoaverygenuinepremonitionoffoulplay,and-oh,hotheadedbitch!wantonhussy!improvident adventuress! -surrendered herself wholly to the spirit of recklessabandonthatapparentlyhadtakenpossessionofthishallfullofinsuranceagentsand their wives. Not until the sherbet arrived didDoyle-whomymother alsodescribes as in looks a second Errol Flynn, and not just in looks -did Doylerevealtoherwhatitwasshehadactuallyingested.

Subsequentlyshewasoverthetoiletallnightthrowingup.Mykishkascameoutfrom that thing!Somepractical Joker!That'swhy to thisday I tellyou,Alex,nevertocommitapracticaljoke-becausetheconsequencescanbetragic!Iwassosick,Alex,sheusedtolovetoremindherselfandme,andmyfathertoo,five,ten,fifteenyearsafterthecataclysmitself,thatyourfather,Mr.BraveOnehere,hadtocallthehoteldoctoroutofasoundsleeptocometotheroom.SeehowImholdingmyfingers?Iwas throwingupsohard, theygotstiff just like this,like I was paralyzed, and ask your father- Jack, tell him, tell him what you

thoughtwhenyousawwhathappenedtomyfingersfromthelobsterNewburg.WhatlobsterNewburg?ThatyourfriendDoyleforceddownmythroat.Doyle?WhatDoyle?Doyle,TheShickerGoyWhoTheyHadToTransferToTheWildsofSouthJerseyHeWasSuchARun-Around.Doyle!WhoLookedLikeErrolFlynn! Tell Alex what happened to my fingers, that you thought happened-Look,Idon'tevenknowwhatyou'retalkingabout,whichisprobablythecase:not everybody quite sensesmymother's life to be the high drama she herselfexperiences-also,thereisalwaysapossibilitythatthisstoryhasmoretodowithimaginationthanreality(moretodo,needlesstosay,withthedangerousDoylethantheforbiddenlobster).Andthen,ofcourse,myfatherisamanwhohasacertainamountofworryingtodoeachday,andsometimeshejusthastoforgolisteningtotheconversationsgoingonaroundhiminordertofulfillhisanxietyrequirement.Itcanwellbethathehasn'treallyheardawordshe'sbeensaying.

But on it goes, my mother's monologue. As other children hear the story ofScrooge every year, or are read to nightly from some favorite book, I amcontinuallyshtuppedfullofthesuspense-filledchaptersofherperilouslife.Thisinfact is the literatureofmychildhood, thesestoriesofmymother's- theonlybound books in the house, aside from schoolbooks, are those that have beengivenaspresents tomyparentswhenoneor theotherwas recuperating in thehospital.One third of our library consists ofDragon Seed (her hysterectomy)(moral:nothingisneverironic,there'salwaysalaughlurkingsomewhere)andtheothertwothirdsareArgentineDiarybyWilliamL.Shirerand(samemoral)TheMemoirsofCasanova(hisappendectomy).OtherwiseourbooksarewrittenbySophiePortnoy,eachanaddition to that famousseriesofhersentitled.YouKnowMe,IllTryAnythingOnce.Fortheideathatseemstogenerateandinformherworksisthatsheissomesortofdaredevilwhogoesexuberantlyoutintolifeinsearchofthenewandthethrilling,onlytobeslappeddownforherpioneeringspirit.Sheactuallyseemstothinkofherselfasawomanattheveryfrontiersofexperience,somedoomeddazzlingcombinationofMarieCurie,AnnaKarenina,andAmeliaEarhart.Atanyrate,thatisthesortofromanticimageofherwhichthislittleboygoestobedwith,aftershehasbuttonedhimintohispajamasandtuckedhimbetweenthesheetswiththestoryofhowshelearnedtodriveacarwhen shewaspregnantwithmy sister, and thevery firstday that shehadherlicense-theveryfirsthour,Alex-somemaniacslammedintoherrearbumper,andconsequentlyshehasneverdrivenacarfromthatmomenton.Orthestoryofhowshewassearchingfor thegoldfish inapondatSaratogaSprings,NewYork,whereshehadbeentakenat theageof ten tovisitanoldsickaunt,andaccidentallyfellin,righttothebottomofthefilthypond,andhasnotgoneinto

thewatersince,notevendowntheshore,whenit'slowtideandalifeguardisonduty.And then there is the lobster,which even in her drunkenness she knewwasn'tchickenalaking,butonlytoshutupthemouthonthatDoylehadforceddownherthroat,andsubsequentlythenear-tragedyhappened,andshehasnotofcourseeatenanythingevenfaintlyresemblinglobstersince.Anddoesnotwantmetoeither.Ever.Not,shesays,ifIknowwhatisgoodforme.Thereareplentyofgoodthingstoeatintheworld,Alex,withouteatingathinglikealobsterandrunningtheriskofhavingparalyzedhandsfortherestofyourlife.

Whew! Have I got grievances! Do I harbor hatreds I didn't even know werethere! Is it theprocess.Doctor,or is itwhatwecall thematerial ?All Ido iscomplain, the repugnance seems bottomless, and I'm beginning to wonder ifmaybe enough isn't enough. I hear myself indulging in the kind of ritualizedbellyachingthatisjustwhatgivespsychoanalyticpatientssuchabadnamewiththegeneralpublic.CouldIreallyhavedetestedthischildhoodandresentedthesepoor parents of mine to the same degree then as I seem to now, lookingbackwarduponwhatIwasfromthevantagepointofwhatIam-andamnot?Isthis truth I'm delivering up, or is it just plain kvetching?Or is kvetching forpeople likemea form of truth? Regardless,myconsciencewishes tomake itknown,beforethebeefingbeginsanew,thatatthetimemyboyhoodwasnotthisthingIfeelsoestrangedfromandresentfulofnow.Vastasmyconfusionwas,deepasmyinnerturmoilseemstoappearinretrospect,Idon'trememberthatIwasoneofthosekidswhowentaroundwishinghelivedinanotherhousewithother people, whatever my unconscious yearnings may have been in thatdirection.Afterall,whereelsewouldI findanaudience like those twoformyimitations? I used to leave them in the aisles at mealtime -my mother onceactuallywetherpants,Doctor,andhadtogorunninginhystericallaughtertothebathroomfrommyimpressionofMisterKitzelonTheJackBennyShow.Whatelse?Walks, walkswithmy father inWeequahic Park on Sundays that I stillhaven'tforgotten.Youknow,Ican'tgooff tothecountryandfindanacornonthe ground without thinking of him and those walks. And that's not nothing,nearlythirtyyearslater.

Andhave Imentioned, vis-a-vismymother, the running conversationwe twohadinthoseyearsbeforeIwasevenoldenoughtogooffbymyselftoaschool?Duringthosefiveyearswhenwehadeachotheralonealldaylong,Idobelievewecoveredjustabouteverysubjectknowntoman.TalkingtoAlex,sheusedtotellmyfatherwhenhewalkedinexhaustedatnight,Icandoawholeafternoonofironing,andneverevennoticethetimegoby.Andmindyou,Iamonlyfour.

Andasforthehollering, thecowering, thecrying,eventhathadvividnessandexcitementtorecommendit;moreover,thatnothingwaseversimplynothingbutalwaysSOMETHING,thatthemostordinarykindofoccurrencecouldexplodewithoutwarningintoATERRIBLECRISIS,thiswastomethewaylifeis.Thenovelist,what'shisname,Markfield,haswritteninastorysomewherethatuntilhewas fourteen he believed aggravation to be a Jewishword.Well, this waswhat I thought about tumult and bedlam, two favorite nouns ofmymother's.Also spatula. I was already the darling of the first grade, and in everyschoolroomcompetition,expectedtowinhandsdown,whenIwasaskedbytheteacheroneday to identifyapictureofwhat Iknewperfectlywellmymotherreferredtoasaspatula.Butfor the lifeofmeIcouldnot thinkof thewordinEnglish. Stammeringandflushing,Isankdefeatedintomyseat,notnearlysostunnedasmyteacherbutbadlyshakenupjustthesame...andthat'showfarbackmyfategoes,howearlyinthegameitwasnormalformetobeinastateresemblingtorment-inthisparticularinstanceoversomethingasmonumentalasakitchenutensil.

Oh,allthatconflictoveraspatula,Momma,

ImaginehowIfeelaboutyou!

IamremindedatthisjoyouslittlejunctureofwhenwelivedinJerseyCity,backwhenIwasstillverymuchmymother'spapoose,stillverymuchasnifferofherbody perfumes and a total slave to herkugel andgrieben and ruggelech-therewas a suicide in our building. A fifteen-year-old boy named Ronald Nimkin,whohadbeencrownedbywomeninthebuildingJoséIturbitheSecond,hangedhimself from the shower head in his bathroom.With those golden hands! thewomen wailed, referring of course to his piano playing- With that talent!Followed by, You couldn't look for a boymore in love with his mother thanRonald!

Isweartoyou,thisisnotbullshitorascreenmemory,thesearetheverywordsthese women use. The great dark operatic themes of human suffering andpassion come rolling out of those mouths like the prices of Oxydol and DelMontecannedcorn!Myownmother, letme remindyou,when I returned thispastsummerfrommyadventure inEurope,greetsmeover thephonewith thefollowing salutation:Well, how'smy lover?Her lover she callsme,while herhusbandislisteningontheotherextension!Anditneveroccurstoher,ifI'mherlover, who is he, the schmegeggy she lives with? No, you don't have to go

digging where these people are concerned-they wear the old unconscious ontheirsleeves!

Mrs.Nimkin,weeping inourkitchen:Why?Why?Whydidhedo this tous?Hear?Notwhatmightwehavedonetohim,ohno,neverthat-whydidhedothistous?Tous!Whowouldhavegivenourarmsandlegstomakehimhappyandafamous concert pianist into the bargain! Really, can they be this blind? Canpeoplebesoabysmallystupidandlive?Doyoubelieveit?Cantheyactuallybeequippedwithallthemachinery,abrain,aspinalcord,andthefouraperturesfortheearsandeyes-equipment,Mrs.Nimkin,nearlyas impressiveascolorTV-andstillgothroughlifewithoutasingleclueaboutthefeelingsandyearningsofanyoneother than themselves?Mrs.Nimkin, you shit, I remember you, Iwasonlysix,butIrememberyou,andwhatkilledyourRonald,theconcert-pianist-to-beisobvious:YOURFUCKINGSELFISHNESSANDSTUPIDITY!Allthelessonswegavehim,weepsMrs.Nimkin...Ohlook,look,whydoIcarryonlikethis?Maybeshemeanswell,surelyshemust-atatimeofgrief,whatcanIexpectofthesesimplepeople?It'sonlybecauseinhermiseryshedoesn'tknowwhat else to say that she says thatGod-awful thing about all the lessons theygavetosomebodywhoisnowacorpse.Whatarethey,afterall,theseJewishwomen who raised us up as children? In Calabria you see their sufferingcounterparts sitting like stones in the churches, swallowing all that hideousCatholicbullshit;inCalcuttatheybeginthestreets,oriftheyarelucky,areoffsomewhere in adusty fieldhitchedup to aplow . . .Only inAmerica,RabbiGolden,dothesepeasants,ourmothers,gettheirhairdyedplatinumattheageofsixty, and walk up and down Collins Avenue in Florida in pedalpushers andminkstoles-andwithopinionsoneverysubjectunderthesun.Itisn'ttheirfaulttheyweregivenagiftlikespeech-look,ifcowscouldtalk,theywouldsaythingsjustas idiotic.Yes,yes,maybe that's thesolution then: thinkof themascows,whohavebeengiven the twinmiraclesof speechandmah-jongg.Whynotbecharitableinone'sthinking,right.Doctor?

MyfavoritedetailfromtheRonaldNimkinsuicide:evenasheisswingingfromtheshowerhead,thereisanotepinnedtothedeadyoungpianist'sshort-sleevedshirt-whichiswhatIremembermostaboutRonald:thistallemaciatedteen-agecatatonic,swimmingaroundallbyhimselfinthoseoversizedshort-sleevedsportshirts,andwiththeirlapelsstarchedandironedbacksofiercelytheylookedtohavebeenbulletproofed. . .AndRonaldhimself,everylimbstrungsotighttohisbackbonethatifyoutouchedhim,hewouldprobablyhavebeguntohum...andthefingers,ofcourse,thoselongwhitegrotesqueries,sevenknucklesatleast

beforeyougotdowntothenicelygnawednail,thoseBelaLugosihandsthatmymotherwouldtellme-andtellme-andtellme-becausenothingiseversaidonce-nothing!-werethehandsofabornpianist.

Pianist!Oh, that's one of thewords they just love, almost asmuch asdoctor.Doctor.Andresidency.Andbestofall,hisownoffice.Heopenedhisownofficein Livingston. Do you remember Seymour Schmuck, Alex? she asks me, orAaronPutzorHowardShiong,orsomeyo-yoIamsupposedtohaveknowningrade school twenty-five years ago, and of whom I have no recollectionwhatsoever.Well, I met his mother on the street today, and she told me thatSeymourisnowthebiggestbrainsurgeonintheentireWesternHemisphere.Heowns six different split-level ranch-type houses made all of fieldstone inLivingston,andbelongstotheboardsofelevensynagogues,allbrand-newanddesignedbyMarcKugel,andlastyear

with his wife and his two little daughters, who are so beautiful that they arealreadyundercontracttoMetro,andsobrilliantthattheyshouldbeincollege-hetook them all to Europe for an eighty-million-dollar tour of seven thousandcountries, someof themyouneverevenheardof, that theymade them just tohonor Seymour, and on top of that, he's so important, Seymour, that in everysinglecityinEuropethattheyvisitedhewasaskedbythemayorhimselftostopanddoanimpossibleoperationonabraininhospitalsthattheyalsobuiltforhimrightonthespot,and-listentothis-wheretheypumpedintotheoperatingroomduring the operation the theme song fromExodus so everybody should knowwhat religionhe is-and that'showbigyour friendSeymour is today!Andhowhappyhemakeshisparents!

And you, the implication is, when are you going to get married already? InNewark and the surrounding suburbs this apparently is the question oneverybody's Ups: WHEN IS ALEXANDER PORTNOY GOING TO STOPBEING SELFISH AND GIVE HIS PARENTS, WHO ARE SUCHWONDERFULPEOPLE,GRANDCHILDREN?Well,saysmyfather,thetearsbrimmingup inhis eyes,well, he asks,every single time I seehim, is there aseriousgirlinthepicture.BigShot?Excusemeforasking.I'monlyyourfather,butsinceI'mnotgoingtobealiveforever,andyouincaseyouforgotcarrythefamilyname,Iwonderifmaybeyoucouldletmeinonthesecret.

Yes, shame, shame, onAlex P., the onlymember of his graduating classwhohasn'tmadegrandparentsofhisMommyandhisDaddy.Whileeverybodyelse

has beenmarrying nice Jewish girls, and having children, and buying houses,and(myfather'sphrase)puttingdownroots,whilealltheothersonshavebeencarryingforwardthefamilyname,whathehasbeendoingis-chasingcunt.Andshiksecunt,toboot!Chasingit,sniffingit,lappingit,shtuppingit,butaboveall,thinkingaboutit.Dayandnight,atworkandonthestreet-thirty-threeyearsoldandstillheisroamingthestreetswithhiseyespopping.Awonderhehasn'tbeenground tomush by a taxicab, given how hemakes his way across themajorarteries ofManhattan during the lunch hour. Thirty-three, and still ogling anddaydreamingabouteverygirlwhocrossesherlegsoppositehiminthesubway!Still cursing himself for speaking not aword to the succulent pair of tits thatrodetwenty-fivefloorsalonewithhiminanelevator!Thencursinghimselfforthe opposite as well! For he has been known to walk up to thoroughlyrespectable-lookinggirls

in thestreet,anddespite thefact thatsincehisappearanceonSundaymorningTVhis face is not entirely unknown to an enlightened segment of the public-despitethefactthathemaybeonhiswaytohiscurrentmistress'apartmentforhisdinner-hehasbeenknownononeor twooccasionstomutter,Look,wouldyouliketocomehomewithme?OfcoursesheisgoingtosayNo.Ofcoursesheisgoingtoscream,Getoutofhere,you!oranswercurtly,Ihaveanicehomeofmyown,thankyou,withahusbandinit.Whatishedoingtohimself,thisfool!this idiot! this furtiveboy!Thissexmaniac!Hesimplycannot-willnot-controlthefiresinhisputz,thefeversinhisbrain,thedesirecontinuallyburningwithinforthenew,thewild,theunthought-ofand,ifyoucanimaginesuchathing,theundreamt-of.Where cunt is concerned he lives in a condition that has neitherdiminishednor in any significantwaybeen refined fromwhat itwaswhenhewasfifteenyearsoldandcouldnotgetupfromhisseatintheclassroomwithouthiding a hard-onbeneathhis three-ringnotebook.Everygirl he sees turns out(holdyourhats)tobecarryingaroundbetweenherlegs-arealcunt.Amazing!Astonishing!Stillcan'tgetoverthefantasticideathatwhenyouarelookingatagirl, you are looking at somebodywho is guaranteed to have on her- a cunt!Theyallhavecunts!Rightundertheirdresses!Cunts-forfucking!And,Doctor,YourHonor,whateveryournameis-itseemstomakenodifferencehowmuchthepoorbastardactuallygets,forheisdreamingabouttomorrow'spussyevenwhilepumpingawayattoday's!

DoIexaggerate?AmIdoingmyselfinonlyasacleverwayofshowingoff?Orboastingperhaps?DoIreallyexperiencethisrestlessness, thishorniness,asanaffliction-orasanaccomplishment?Both?Couldbe.Orisitonlyameansof

evasion?Look,atleastIdon'tfindmyselfstillinmyearlythirtieslockedintoamarriagewith some nice personwhose body has ceased to be of any genuineinterest tome-at least Idon'thave toget intobedeverynightwithsomebodywhobyandlargeIfuckoutofobligationinsteadoflust.Imean,thenightmarishdepression somepeople suffer at bedtime . . .On theotherhand, even Imustadmit that there is maybe, from a certain perspective, something a littledepressingaboutmysituation,too.Ofcourseyoucan'thaveeverything,orsoIunderstand-butthequestionIamwillingtofaceis:haveIanything?HowmuchlongerdoIgoonconductingtheseexperimentswithwomen?HowmuchlongerdoIgoonsticking this thing into theholes thatcomeavailable to it- first thishole,thenwhenItireofthishole,thatholeoverthere...andsoon.Whenwillitend?Onlywhy should itend!Topleasea fatherandmother?Toconformtothe norm? Why on earth should I be so defensive about being what washonorably called some years ago, a bachelor? After all, that's all this is, youknow-bachelorhood.Sowhat'sthecrime?Sexualfreedom?Inthisdayandage?WhyshouldIbendtothebourgeoisie?DoIaskthemtobendtome?MaybeI'vebeentouchedbythetarbrushofBohemiaalittle-isthatsoawful?WhomamIbanningwithmylusts?Idon'tblackjacktheladies,Idon'ttwistarmstogetthemintobedwithme.Iam,ifImaysayso,anhonestandcompassionateman;letmetellyou,asmengoIam...ButwhymustIexplainmyself!Excusemyself!Whymust I justifywithmyHonesty andCompassionmy desires! So I havedesires-onlythey'reendless.Endless!Andthat,thatmaynotbesuchablessing,taking for the moment a psychoanalytic point of view . . . But then all theunconsciouscandoanyway,soFreudtellsus,iswant.Andwant!AndWANT!Oh,Freud,doIknow!Thisonehasaniceass,butshetalkstoomuch.Ontheotherhand, thisoneheredoesn't talkat all, at leastnot so that shemakesanysense-but,boy,canshesuck!Whatcockknow-how!Whilehereisahoneyofagirl,withthesoftest,pinkest,mosttouchingnipplesIhaveeverdrawnbetweenmylips,onlyshewon'tgodownonme.Isn't thatodd?Andyet-gounderstandpeople-it is her pleasure while being boffed to have one or the other of myforefingers lodged snugly up her anus.What amysterious business it is! Theendlessfascinationoftheseaperturesandopenings!Yousee,Ijustcan'tstop!Ortiemyselftoanyone.Ihaveaffairsthatlastaslongasayear,ayearandahalf,monthsandmonthsof love,both tenderandvoluptuous,but in theend-it isasinevitableasdeath-timemarchesonandlustpetersout.Intheend,Ijustcannottakethatstepintomarriage.ButwhyshouldI?Why?IstherealawsayingAlexPortnoyhastobesomebody'shusbandandfather?Doctor,theycanstandonthewindowledgeandthreaten tosplatter themselveson thepavementbelow, theycanpiletheSeconaltotheceiling-Imayhavetoliveforweeksandweekson

end in terror of these marriage-bent girls throwing themselves beneath thesubwaytrain,butIsimplycannot,Isimplywillnot,enterintoacontracttosleepwithjustonewomanfor therestofmydays.Imagineit:supposeIweretogoahead andmarryA,with her sweet tits and so on,whatwill happenwhenBappears,whoseareevensweeter-or,atanyrate,newer?OrC,whoknowshowtomoveherassinsomespecialwayIhaveneverexperienced;orD,orE,orF.I'mtrying tobehonestwithyou,Doctor-becausewithsex thehumanimaginationruns toZ, and then beyond!Tits and cunts and legs and lips andmouths andtonguesandassholes!HowcanIgiveupwhatIhaveneverevenhad,foragirl,whodeliciousandprovocativeasonceshemayhavebeen,willinevitablygrowasfamiliartomeasaloafofbread?Forlove?Whatlove?Isthatwhatbindsallthesecouplesweknowtogether-theoneswhoevenbothertoletthemselvesbebound? Isn't it somethingmore likeweakness? Isn't it rather convenience andapathyandguilt?Isn'titratherfearandexhaustionandinertia,gutlessnessplainand simple, far far more than that love that the marriage counselors and thesongwritersandthepsychotherapistsareforeverdreamingabout?Please,letusnotbullshitoneanotheraboutloveanditsduration.WhichiswhyIask:howcanImarrysomeoneIloveknowingfullwellthatfive,six,sevenyearshenceIamgoingtobeoutonthestreetshuntingdownthefreshnewpussy-allthewhilemydevotedwife,whohasmademesucha lovelyhome,etcetera,bravelysuffersherlonelinessandrejection?HowcouldIfaceherterribletears?Icouldn't.Howcould I face my adoring children? And then the divorce, right? The childsupport.Thealimony.Thevisitationrights.Wonderfulprospect,justwonderful.And as for anybodywho kills herself because I prefer not to be blind to thefuture, well, she is her worry-she has to be! There is surely no need orjustificationforanybodytothreatensuicidejustbecauseIamwiseenoughtoseewhatfrustrationsandrecriminationsheahead.. .Baby,please,don'thowllikethatplease-somebodyisgoingtothinkyou'rebeingstrangledtodeath.Ohbaby(I hear myself pleading, last year, this year, every year of my life!), you'regoingtobeallright,really,trulyyouare;you'regoingtobejustfineanddandyandmuchbetteroff,soplease,youbitch,comebackinsidethisroomandletmego!You!Youandyourfilthycock!criesthemostrecentlydisappointed(andself-appointed)bride-to-be,mystrange, lanky,andverybatty friend,whousedtoearnasmuchinanhourposingforunderwearadsasherilliteratefatherwould earn in aweek in the coalmines ofWestVirginia: I thought youweresupposed to be a superior person, you muff-diving, mother-fucking son of abitch!This beautiful girl,whohas gotme allwrong, is calledTheMonkey, anicknamethatderivesfromalittleperversionsheonceengagedinshortlybeforemeetingme andgoingon to grander things.Doctor, I hadnever had anybody

like her in my life, she was the fulfillment of mymost lascivious adolescentdreams- butmarry her, can she be serious?You see, for all her preening andperfumes,shehasaverylowopinionofherself,andsimultaneously-andhereisthe source of much of our trouble-a ridiculously high opinion of me. Andsimultaneously,averylowopinionofme!SheisoneconfusedMonkey,and,I'mafraid,not tooverybright.An intellectual!shescreams.Aneducated,spiritualperson!Youmean,miserablehard-onyou,youcaremoreabout theniggers inHarlemthatyoudon'tevenknow,thanyoudoaboutme,who'sbeensuckingyouoffforasolidyear!Confused,heartbroken,andalsooutofhermind.Forallthiscomes tome from the balcony of our hotel room inAthens, as I stand in thedoorway,suitcasesinhand,begginghertopleasecomebackinsidesothatIcancatch a plane out of that place. Then the angry little manager, all olive oil,mustache, and outraged respectability, is running up the stairway waving hisarms in the air-and so, taking a deep breath, I say, Look, you want to jump,jump!andoutIgo-andthelastwordsIhearhavetodowiththefactthatitwasonlyoutofloveforme(Love!shescreams)thatsheallowedherselftodothedegradingthingsIforcedquoteunquoteuponher.

Whichisnotthecase,Doctor!Notthecaseatall!Whichisanattemptonthisslybitch'sparttobreakmeontherackofguilt-andthusgetherselfahusband.Becauseattwenty-ninethat'swhatshewants,yousee-butthatdoesnotmean,yousee,thatIhavetooblige.InSeptember,yousonofabitch,Iamgoingtobethirtyyearsold!Correct,Monkey,correct!Whichispreciselywhyitisyouandnotmewhoisresponsibleforyourexpectationsandyourdreams!Isthatclear?You! I'll tell theworld about you, you cold-heartedprick! I'll tell themwhat afilthypervertyouare,andthedirtythingsyoumademedo!

Thecunt!I'mluckyreallythatIcameoutofthataffairalive.IfIhave!

Butbacktomyparents,andhowitseemsthatbyremaininginmysinglestateIbring thesepeople, too,nothingbutgrief.That Ihappen,MommyandDaddy,just happen to have recently been appointed by the Mayor to be AssistantCommissioner forTheCityofNewYorkCommissiononHumanOpportunityapparently doesn't mean shit to you in terms of accomplishment and stature-thoughthisisnotexactlythecase,Iknow,for,tobetruthful,whenevermynamenow appears in a news story in theTimes, they bombard every living relativewithacopyoftheclipping.Halfmyfather'sretirementpaygoesdownthedraininpostage,andmymotherisonthephonefordaysatastretchandhastobefedintravenously, hermouth is going at such a rate about her Alex. In fact, it is

exactlyasitalwayshasbeen:theycan'tgetoverwhatasuccessandageniusIam,mynameinthepaper,anassociatenowoftheglamorousnewMayor,onthesideofTruthandJustice,enemyofslumlordsandbigotsandrats(toencourageequalityof treatment, topreventdiscrimination, tofostermutualunderstandingand respect-my commission's humane purpose, as decreed by act of theCityCouncil) . . . but still, if you know what I mean, still somehow not entirelyperfect.

Now,canyoubeatthatforaserpent'stooth?Alltheyhavesacrificedformeanddoneformeandhowtheyboastaboutmeandarethebestpublicrelationsfirm(theytellme)anychildcouldhave,anditturnsoutthatIstillwon'tbeperfect.Didyoueverhearofsuchathinginyourlife?Ijustrefusetobeperfect.Whataprickykid.

Theycometovisit:Wheredidyougetaruglikethis?myfatherasks,makingaface.Didyougetthisthinginajunkshopordidsomebodygiveittoyou?

Ilikethisrug.

Whatareyoutalking,myfathersays,it'saworn-outrug.

Light-hearted.It'sworn,butnotout.Okay?Enough?

Alex,please,mymothersays,itisaverywornrug.

You'lltriponthatthing,myfathersays,andthrowyourkneeoutofwhack,andthenyoullreallybeintrouble.

Andwithyourknee,saysmymothermeaningfully,thatwouldn'tbeapicnic.

Atthisratetheyaregoingtorollthethingupanyminutenow,thetwoofthem,andpushitoutthewindow.Andthentakemehome!

Therugisfine.Mykneeisfine.

Itwasn'tsofine,mymother isquicktoremindme,whenyouhadthecaston,darling,uptoyourhip.Howheshlepped that thingaround!Howmiserablehewas!

Iwasfourteenyearsoldthen.Mother.

Yeah,andyoucameoutofthatthing,myfathersays,youcouldn'tbendyourleg,I thought youwere going to be a cripple for the rest of your life. I told him,'Bend it!Bend it!' Ipracticallybeggedhimmorning,noon,andnight, 'Doyouwanttobeacrippleforever?Bendthatleg!

Youscaredthedaylightsoutofuswiththatknee.

Butthatwasinnineteenhundredandforty-seven.Andthisisnineteensixty-six.Thecasthasbeenoffnearlytwentyyears!

Mymother's cogent reply? You'll see, someday you'll be a parent, and you'llknowwhatit'slike.Andthenmaybeyouwon'tsneeratyourfamilyanymore.

The legend engraved on the face of the Jewish nickel- on the body of everyJewish child!- not IN GOD WE TRUST, but SOMEDAY YOU'LL BE APARENTANDYOU'LLKNOWWHATIT'SLIKE.

Youthink,myfathertheironistasks,it'llbeinourlifetime,Alex?Youthinkit'llhappen before I go down into the grave? No-he'd rather take chances with aworn-out rug!The ironist-and logician! -Andcrackhisheadopen!And letmeaskyousomethingelse,my independent son-whowouldevenknowyouwerehere ifyouwere lyingbleeding todeathon the floor?Half the timeyoudon'tanswerthephone,IseeyoulyingherewithGodonlyknowswhat'swrong-andwhoistheretotakecareofyou?Whoisthereeventobringyouabowlofsoup,ifGodforbidsomethingterribleshouldhappen?

Icantakecareofmyself!Idon'tgoaroundlikesomepeople-boy,stillprettytoughwiththeoldman,eh,Al?-somepeopleIknowincontinualanticipationoftotalcatastrophe!

You'llsee,hesays,noddingmiserably,you'llgetsick-andsuddenlyasquealofanger,awhineoutofnowhereofabsolutehatredofme!-you'llgetold,andyouwon'tbesuchanindependentbigshotthen!

Alex, Alex, beginsmymother, asmy father walks tomywindow to recoverhimself,andinpassing,tocommentcontemptuouslyabouttheneighborhoodhelivesin.IworkforNewYork,andhestillwantsmetoliveinbeautifulNewark!

Mother, I'm thirty-three! I am the Assistant Commissioner of HumanOpportunityfortheCityofNewYork!Igraduatedfirstinmylawschoolclass!

Remember?IhavegraduatedfirstfromeveryclassI'veeverbeenin!Attwenty-five I was already special counsel to a House Sub-committee-of the UnitedStatesCongress,Mother!OfAmerica!IfIwantedWallStreet,Mother,IcouldbeonWallStreet!Iamahighlyrespectedmaninmyprofession,thatshouldbeobvious! Right this minute, Mother, I am conducting an investigation ofunlawful discriminatory practices in the building trades in New York- racialdiscrimination!Trying to get the Ironworkers' Union,Mother, to tellme theirlittle secrets!That'swhat I did just today! Look, I helped solve the televisionquizscandal,doyouremember-?Oh,whygoon?Whygooninmystrangledhigh-pitchedadolescentvoice?GoodChrist,aJewishmanwithparentsaliveisafifteen-year-oldboy,andwillremainafifteen-year-oldboytilltheydie!

Anyway,Sophiehasby this time takenmyhand,andwithhoodedeyes,waitsuntilIsputteroutthelastaccomplishmentIcanthinkof,thelastvirtuousdeedIhavedone, then speaks:But to us, to us you're still a baby, darling.Andnextcomes the whisper, Sophie's famous whisper that everybody in the room canhearwithoutevenstraining,she'ssoconsiderate:Tellhimyou'resorry.Givehimakiss.Akissfromyouwouldchangetheworld.

A kiss frommewould change the world!Doctor! Doctor! Did I say fifteen?Excuseme, I meant ten! I meant five! I meant zero! A Jewishman with hisparentsaliveishalfthetimeahelplessinfant!Listen,cometomyaid,willyou-andquick!Springmefromthis role Iplayof thesmotheredson in theJewishjoke!Becauseit'sbeginningtopallalittle,atthirty-three!Andalsoithoits,youknow,thereispaininvolved,alittlehumansufferingisbeingfelt,ifImaytakeituponmyselftosayso-onlythat'sthepartSamLevensonleavesout!Sure, theysitinthecasinoattheConcord,thewomenintheirminksandthemenintheirphosphorescentsuits,andboy,dotheylaugh,laughandlaughandlaugh-Help,help,mysonthedoctorisdrowning!-hahaha,hahaha,onlywhataboutthepain,Myron Cohen!What about the guywho is actually drowning! Actuallysinking beneath an ocean of parental relentlessness! What about him- whohappens,Myron Cohen, to be me! Doctor, please, I can't live any more in aworld given its meaning and dimension by some vulgar nightclub clown. Bysome-someblackhumorist!Becausethat'swhotheblackhumoristsare-ofcourse!- theHennyYoungmansand theMiltonBerlesbrealdng themupdownthere in theFountainebleau, andwithwhat?Storiesofmurder andmutilation!Help,criesthewomanrunningalongthesandatMiamiBeach,help,mysonthedoctor is drowning! Ha ha ha-only it ismy son the patient, lady! And is hedrowning!Doctor,getthesepeopleoffmyass,willyouplease?Themacabreis

veryfunnyonthestage-butnottoliveit,thankyou!Sojusttellmehow,andIlldoit!Justtellmewhat,andI'llsayitrighttotheirfaces!Scat,Sophie!Fuckoff,Jack!Goawayfrommealready!

Imean here's a joke for you, for instance. Three Jews are walking down thestreet,mymother,myfather,andme.It'sthispastsummer,justbeforeIamtoleave onmyvacation.Wehave had our dinner (Yougot a piece of fish?myfatherasksthewaiterinthefancyFrenchrestaurantItakethemto,toshowIamgrown-up-Oui,monsieur,wehave-Allright,givemeapieceoffish,saysmyfather,andmakesureit'shot),wehavehadourdinner,andafterward,chewingonmy Titralac ( for relief of gastric hyperacidity), I walk a ways with thembeforeputtingtheminataxiforthePortAuthorityBusTerminal.Immediatelymy father starts in abouthow Ihaven't come tovisit in fiveweeks (ground Ithought we two had already covered in the restaurant, while my mother waswhispering to the waiter to make sure her big boy's piece of fish-that's me,folks!-waswell-done),andnowIamgoingawayforawholemonth,andallinall when do they ever see their own son? They see their daughter, and theirdaughter'schildren,andnot infrequently,but that isnotsuccessfuleither.Withthatson-in-law,myfathersays,ifyoudon'tsaytherightpsychologicalthingtohiskids,ifIdon'ttalkstraightpsychologytomyowngranddaughters,hewantsto put me in jail! I don't care what he calls himself, he still thinks like aCommunist tome.Myowngrandchildren,andeverythingIsayhas topassbyhim,

Mr.Censor!No,theirdaughterisnowMrs.Feibish,andherlittledaughtersareFeibishestoo.WherearethePortnoyshedreamedof?Inmynuts.Look,Icryinmystrangulatedway,you'reseeingmenow!You'rewithmeright thisminute!Butheisoffandrunning,andnow

thathehasn't fishbones toworryaboutchokingon, there isnoreininghimin-Mr. andMrs. Schmuck have Seymour and his beautiful wife and their seventhousandbrilliantandbeautifulchildrenwhocometothemeverysingleFridaynight-Look,Iamaverybusyperson!Ihaveabriefcasefullofimportantthingsto do- ! Come on, he replies, you gotta eat, you can come for ameal once aweek, because you gotta eat anyway comes six o'clock-well, don't you?WhereuponwhopipesupbutSophie,informinghimthatwhenshewasalittlegirlherfamilywasalwaystellinghertodothisanddothat,andhowunhappyandresentfulitsometimeswouldcausehertofeel,andhowmyfathershouldn'tinsistwithme because, she concludes,Alexander is a big boy. Jack, he has a

righttomakehisowndecisions,that'ssomethingIalwaystoldhim.Youalwayswhat?Whatdidshesay?

Oh,whygoon?Whybesoobsessedlikethis?Whybesopetty?WhynotbeasportlikeSamLevensonandlaughitalloff-right?

Only letme finish. So they get into the taxi. Kiss him,mymother whispers,you'regoingallthewaytoEurope.

Of course my father overhears-that's why she lowers her voice, so we'll alllisten-and panic sweeps over him. Every year, from September on, he isperpetually asking me what my plans are for the following August-now herealizesthathehasbeenoutfoxed:badenoughIamleavingonamidnightplaneforanothercontinent,butworse,hehasn'ttheslightestideaofmyitinerary.Ididit!Imadeit!

-Butwhere inEurope?Europe ishalf thewholeglobe-hecries,as Ibegin toclosethetaxidoorfromtheoutside.

Itoldyou,Idon'tknow.

Whatdoyoumean?Yougotta know!Howwillyouget thereyourself, if you'don'tknow'-

Sorry,sorry-

Desperatelynowhisbodycomeslurchingacrossmymother's-justasIslamshutthe door- oy, not on his fingers, please! Jesus, this father!Whom I have hadforever!WhomIusedtofindinthemorningfastasleeponthetoiletbowl,hispajamasaroundhiskneesandhischinhangingontohischest.Upatquartertosixinthemorning,soastogivehimselfafulluninterruptedhouronthecan,intheferventhopethat ifheissokindandthoughtfulas this tohisbowels, theywill relent, theywill give in, theywill say finally,Okay, Jack, youwin, andmake a present to the poor bastard of five or sixmeasly lumps of shit. JesusChrist! he groans, when I awaken him so as to wash up for school, and herealizes that it is nearly seven-thirty anddown in thebowloverwhichhehasbeen sleeping for an hour, there is, if he's lucky, one brown angry little pelletsuchasyouexpectfromtherectumofarabbitmaybe-butnotfromtherear-endof amanwho now has to go out all clogged up to put in a twelve-hour day.Seven-thirty?Whydidn'tyousaysomething!Zoom,he'sdressed,andinhishat

andcoat,andwithhisbigblackcollectionbookinonehandheboltshisstewedprunesandhisbranflakesstandingup,andfillsapocketwithahandfulofdriedfruits that would bring on in an ordinary human being something resemblingdysentery.Iought tostickahandgrenadeupmyass, ifyouwant thetruth,hewhispersprivatelytome,whilemymotheroccupiesthebathroomandmysisterdressesforschoolinher 'room,thesunparlor-IgotenoughAll-Braninmetolaunchabattleship.It'sbackeduptomythroat,forChrist'ssake.Here,becausehehasgotmesnickering,andisamusinghimselftooinhisownmordantway,heopenshismouthandpointsdownward insidehimselfwitha thumb.Takealook.Seewhere itstarts togetdark?Thatain't justdark-that'sall thoseprunesrising up where my tonsils used to be. Thank God I had those things out,otherwisetherewouldn'tberoom.

Verynicetalk,mymothercallsfromthebathroom.Verynicetalktoachild.

Talk? he cries. It's the truth, and in the very next instant is thomping angrilyaroundthehousehollering,Myhat.I'mlate,where'smyhat?whosawmyhat?andmymother comes into the kitchen and givesme her patient, eternal, all-knowing sphinx-look . . . andwaits . . . and soon he is back in the hallway,apoplecticandmoaning,practicallyingrief,Whereismyhat?Whereisthathat!until softly, fromthedepthsofheromniscientsoul,sheanswershim,Dummy,it's on your head.Momentarily his eyes seem to empty of all signs of humanexperienceandunderstanding;he stands there, ablank, a thing, abody fullofshitandnomore.Thenconsciousness returns-yes,hewillhave togoout intotheworldafterall,forhishathasbeenfound,onhisheadofallplaces.Ohyeah,he says, reaching up in wonderment-and then out of the house and into theKaiser,andSupermanisgoneuntildark.

TheKaiser, time formystoryabout theKaiser:howheproudly tookmewithhimwhenhewentafterthewartotradeinthe'39Dodgeforanewautomobile,newmake,newmodel,neweverything-whataperfectwayforanAmericandadtoimpresshisAmericanson!-andhowthefast-talkingsalesmanactedasthoughhe just couldn't believe his ears,was simply incredulous, each timemy fathersaidNo to one after another of the thousand little accessories the cock-suckerwantedtosellustohangonthecar.Well,I'lltellyoumyopinionforwhateverit's worth, says that worthless son of a bitch, she'd look two hun-erd percentbetter with the whitewalls-don't you think so, young fella?Wouldn't you likeyour dad to get thewhitewalls, at least?At least. Ah, you slimy prick, you!Turning to me like that, to stick it into my old man- you miserable lowlife

thievingsonofabitch!Justwhothefuckareyou,Iwonder,tolorditoverus-aGod damn Kaiser-Fraser salesman! Where are you now, you intimidatingbastard?No,nowhitewalls,mumblesmyhumbledfather,andIsimplyshrugmyshouldersinembarassmentoverhisinabilitytoprovidemeandmyfamilywiththebeautifulthingsinlife.

Anyway,anyway--offtoworkintheradio-lesswhitewall-lessKaiser,theretobeletintotheofficebythecleaninglady.Now,Iaskyou,whymusthebetheonetoraisetheshadesinthatofficeinthemorning?Whymustheworkthelongestdayofanyinsuranceagentinhistory?Forwhom?Me?Oh,ifso,ifso,ifthatishisreason,thenitisallreallytoofuckingtragictobear.Themisunderstandingistoo great! Forme? Dome a favor and don't do it for me!Don't please lookaround for a reason for your life being what it is and come up with Alex!Because I am not the be-all and end-all of everybody's existence! I refuse toshlepthosebagsaroundfortherestofmylife!Doyouhearme?Irefuse!StopBnding it incomprehensible that I should be flying to Europe, thousands andthousandsofmilesaway,justwhenyouhaveturnedsixty-sixandareallreadytokeel over at anyminute, like you read about first thing everymorning in theTimes.Menhisageandyounger,theydie-oneminutethey'realive,andthenextdead, and apparently what he thinks is that if I am only across the Hudsoninsteadof theAtlantic . . .Listen,whatdoeshe think?Thatwithmearounditsimplywon'thappen?ThatIllracetohisside,takeholdofhishand,andtherebyrestorehimtolife?DoesheactuallybelievethatIsomehowhavethepowertodestroydeath?ThatIamtheresurrectionandthelife?Mydad,arealbelievingChrister!Anddoesn'tevenknowit!

Hisdeath.Hisdeath andhisbowels: the truth is I amhardly lesspreoccupiedwitheitherthanheishimself.Inevergetatelegram,nevergetaphonecallaftermidnight,thatIdonotfeelmyownstomachemptyoutlikeawashbasin,andsayaloud-aloud!-He'sdead.BecauseapparentlyIbelieveittoo,believethatIcansomehowsavehimfromannihilation-can,andmust!ButwheredidweallgetthisridiculousandabsurdideathatIamso-powerful,soprecious,sonecessarytoeverybody'ssurvival!WhatwasitwiththeseJewishparents-becauseIamnotinthisboatalone,ohno,Iamonthebiggesttroopshipafloat...onlylookinthrough theportholes and seeus there, stacked to thebulkheads inourbunks,moaning and groaning with such pity for ourselves, the sad and watery-eyedsonsofJewishparents,sicktothegillsfromrollingthroughtheseheavyseasofguilt-soIsometimesenvisionus,meandmyfellowwailers,melancholics,andwiseguys,stillinsteerage,likeourforebears-andohsick,sickasdogs,wecry

out intermittently,oneofusoranother,Poppa,howcouldyou?Momma,whydidyou?andthestorieswetell,asthebigshippitchesandrolls, thevyingwedo-whohad themost castratingmother,who themostbenighted father, I canmatchyou,youbastard,humiliation forhumiliation, shame for shame . . . theretching in the toilets after meals, the hysterical deathbed laughter from thebunks, and the tears-here a puddle wept in contrition, here a puddle fromindignation- in theblinkingofaneye, thebodyofaman(with thebrainofaboy) rises in impotent rage to flail at themattress above,only to fall instantlyback, lashing itselfwithreproaches. Oh, myJewishmenfriends! Mydirty-mouthed guilt-ridden brethren! My sweethearts! My mates!Will this fuckingshipeverstoppitching?When?When,sothatwecanleaveoffcomplaininghowsickweare-andgooutintotheair,andlive!

DoctorSpielvogel,italleviatesnothingfixingtheblame-blamingisstillailing,of course, of course-but nonetheless, what was it with these Jewish parents,what, that theywereable tomakeus littleJewishboysbelieveourselves tobeprinces on the one hand, unique as unicorns on the one hand, geniuses andbrilliantlikenobodyhaseverbeenbrilliantandbeautifulbeforeinthehistoryofchildhood-saviors and sheer perfection on the one hand, and such bumbling,incompetent,thoughtless,helpless,selfish,evillittleshits,littleingrates,ontheother!

ButinEuropewhere-?hecallsafterme,asthetaxipullsawayfromthecurb.

Idon'tknowwhere,Icallafterhim,gleefullywavingfarewell.Iamthirty-three,andfreeatlastofmymotherandfather!Foramonth.

Buthowwillweknowyouraddress?

Joy!Sheerjoy!Youwon't!

Butwhatifinthemeantime-?

Whatifwhat?Ilaugh.Whatifwhatareyouworriedaboutnow?

Whatif-?AndmyGod,doeshereallyactuallyshoutitoutthetaxiwindow?Ishisfear,hisgreed,hisneedandbeliefinmesogreatthatheactuallyshoutsthesewordsoutintothestreetsofNewYork?WhatifIdie?

Because that iswhat Ihear,Doctor.The lastwords Ihearbefore flyingoff to

Europe-andwithTheMonkey,somebodywhomIhavekeptatotalsecretfromthem.WhatifIdie?andthenoffIgoformyorgiasticholidayabroad.

. . .Now,whether thewords I hear are thewords spoken is something elseagain.Andwhetherwhat I hear I hear out of compassion for him, out ofmyagonyover the inevitabilityof thishorrificoccurrence,hisdeath,oroutofmyeageranticipationofthatevent,isalsosomethingelseagain.Butthisofcourseyouunderstand,thisofcourseisyourbreadandyourbutter.

IwassayingthatthedetailofRonaldNimkin'ssuicidethatmostappealstomeisthe note to hismother found pinned to that roomy straitjacket, his nice stifflylaunderedsportsshirt.Knowwhatitsaid?Guess.ThelastmessagefromRonaldtohismomma?Guess.

Mrs.Blumenthalcalled.Pleasebringyourmah-jonggrulestothegametonight.

Ronald

Now, how's that for good to the last drop? How's that for a good boy, athoughtfulboy,akindandcourteousandwell-behavedboy,aniceJewishboysuchasnoonewilleverhavecausetobeashamedof?Saythankyou,darling.Say you're welcome, darling. Say you're sorry, Alex. Say you're sorry!Apologize!Yeah, forwhat?Whathave Idonenow?Hey, I'mhidingundermybed,mybacktothewall,refusingtosayI'msorry,refusing,too,tocomeoutandtake the consequences.Refusing!And she is aftermewith a broom, trying tosweepmy rotten carcass into the open.Why, shades ofGregor Sarnsa!HelloAlex,goodbyeFranz!Youbettertellmeyou'resorry,you,orelse!AndIdon'tmean maybe either! I am five, maybe six, and she is or-elsing me and not-meaning-maybe as though the firing squad is already outside, lining the streetwithnewspaperpreparatorytomyexecution.

Andnowcomesthefather:afterapleasantdayoftryingtoselllifeinsurancetoblackpeoplewhoaren'tevenexactlysurethey'realive,hometoahystericalwifeand ametamorphosed child-becausewhat did I do,me, the soul of goodness?Incredible,beyondbelief,buteitherIkickedherintheshins,orIbither.Idon'twanttosoundlikeI'mboasting,butIdobelieveitwasboth.

Why? shedemands to know,kneelingon the floor to shine a flashlight inmyeyes,whydoyoudosuchathing?Oh,simple,whydidRonaldNimkingiveuphis ghost and the piano? BECAUSE WE CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE!

BECAUSEYOUFUCKINGJEWISHMOTHERSAREJUSTTOOFUCKINGMUCH TO BEAR! I have read Freud on Leonardo, Doctor, and pardon thehubris,butmyfantasiesexactly: thisbigsmotheringbirdbeatingfranticwingsaboutmyfaceandmouthsothatIcannotevengetmybreath.Whatdowewant,meand

RonaldandLeonardo?Tobeleftalone!Ifonlyforhalfanhouratatime!Stopalreadyhockingustobegood!hockingustobenice!Just leaveusalone,Goddamnit,topullourlittledongsinpeaceandthinkourlittleselfishthoughts-stopalreadywiththerespectabilizingofourhandsandour tushiesandourmouths!Fuck thevitaminsand thecod liveroil! Justgiveuseachdayourdaily flesh!Andforgiveusourtrespasses-whicharen'teventrespassestobeginwith!

-alittleboyyouwanttobewhokickshisownmotherintheshins-?Myfatherspeaking...andlookathisarms,willyou?Ihaveneverreallynoticedbeforethesizeoftheforearmsthemanhasgotonhim.Hemaynothavewhitewalltiresorahighschooleducation,buthehasarmsonhimthatarenojoke.And,Jesus,isheangry.Butwhy?Inpart,youschmuck,Ikickedherforyou!

-ahumanbite isworse than adogbite, doyouknow that, you?Getout fromunder thatbed!Doyouhearme,whatyoudid toyourmother isworse thanadog could do! And so loud is his roar, and so convincing, that my normallyplacidsisterrunstothekitchen,greatgruntfulsoffeareruptingfromhermouth,and in what we now call the fetal position crouches down between therefrigerator and thewall.Or so I seem to remember it- though itwouldmakesense, I think, toaskhow Iknowwhat isgoingon in thekitchen if I amstillhidingbeneathmybed.

ThebiteIcanlivewith,theshinsIcanlivewith- herbroomstillrelentlesslytryingtopokemeoutfrommycave-butwhatamIgoingtodowithachildwhowon'tevensayhe'ssorry?Whowon'ttellhisownmotherthathe'ssorryandwillneverneverdosuchathingagain,ever!Whatarewegoingtodo,Daddy,withsuchalittleboyinourhouse!

Isshekidding?Issheserious?Whydoesn'tshecallthecopsandgetmeshippedoff to children's prison, if this is how incorrigible I really am? AlexanderPortnoy,agedfive,youareherebysentencedtohangbyyourneckuntilyouaredead for refusing to say you are sorry to your mother. You'd think the childlappingup theirmilkand takingbathswithhisduckandhisboats in their tub

wasthemostwantedcriminalinAmerica.WhenactuallywhatweareplayinginthathouseissomefarceversionofKingLear,withmeintheroleofCordelia!Onthephonesheisperpetuallytellingwhosoeverisn'tlisteningontheotherendabout her biggest fault being that she's too good. Because surely they're notlistening- surely they're not sitting there nodding and taking down on theirtelephonepadsthiskindoftransparent,self-serving,insanehorseshitthatevenapre-school-agechildcanseethrough.Youknowwhatmybiggestfaultis.Rose?Ihatetosayitaboutmyself,butImtoogood.Theseareactualwords,Doctor,tape-recordedthesemanyyearsinmybrain.Andkillingmestill!ThesearetheactualmessagesthattheseRosesandSophiesandGoldiesandPearlstransmittooneanotherdaily!Igivemyeverythingtootherpeople,sheadmits,sighing,andI get kicked in the teeth in return andmy fault is that asmany times as I getslappedintheface,Ican'tstopbeinggood.

Shit,Sophie,justtry,whydon'tyou?Whydon'twealltry!Becausetobebad.Mother, that is therealstruggle: tobebad-andtoenjoyit!That iswhatmakesmen of us boys.Mother. Butwhatmy conscience, so-called, has done tomysexuality,myspontaneity,mycourage!NevermindsomeofthethingsI trysohardtogetawaywith-becausethefactremains,Idon't.Iammarkedlikearoadmapfromheadtotoewithmyrepressions.Youcantravelthelengthandbreadthofmybodyoversuperhighwaysofshameandinhibitionandfear.See,Iamtoogoodtoo,Mother, I tooammoral to theburstingpoint- just likeyou!Didyoueverseeme try tosmokeacigarette? I look likeBetteDavis.Todayboysandgirlsnotevenoldenoughtobebar-mitzvahedaresuckingonmarijuanalikeit'speppermintcandy, and I'mstillall thumbs with aLuckyStrike.Yes, that'show good I am,Momma. Can't smoke, hardly drink, no drugs, don't borrowmoneyor play cards, can't tell a liewithout beginning to sweat as though I'mpassingovertheequator.Sure,Isayfuckalot,butIassureyou,that'saboutthesum of my success with transgressing. Look what I have done with TheMonkey-given her up, run from her in fear, the girl whose cunt I have beendreaming about lapping all my life.Why is a little turbulence so beyondmymeans?Whymust the least deviation from respectable conventions causemesuch inner hell?When Ihate those fucking conventions!When I knowbetterthan the taboos! Doctor, my doctor, what do you say, LET'S PUT THE IDBACKINYID!LiberatethisniceJewishboy'slibido,willyouplease?Raisethepricesifyouhaveto-I'llpayanything!Onlyenoughcoweringinthefaceofthedeep,darkpleasures!Ma,Ma,whatwasityouwantedtoturnmeintoanyway,awalkingzombielikeRonaldNimkin?Wheredidyougettheideathatthemostwonderful thingIcouldbeinlifewasobedient?Alittlegentleman?Ofall the

aspirations for a creature of lusts and desires!Alex, you say, aswe leave theWeequahicDiner-anddon'tgetmewrong,Ieatitup:praiseispraise,andItakeithoweveritcomes-Alex,yousaytomealldressedupinmyclip-ontieandmytwo-toneloafer jacket, thewayyoucutyourmeat! thewayyouate thatbakedpotatowithoutspilling!Icouldkissyou,Ineversawsuchalittlegentlemanwithhis littlenapkin inhis lap like that!Fruitcake,Mother.Little fruitcake iswhatyou saw- and exactlywhat the training programwas designed to produce.Ofcourse! Of course! The mystery really is not that I'm not dead like RonaldNimkin,butthatI'mnotlikealltheniceyoungmenIseestrollinghandinhandin Bloomingdale's on Saturday mornings. Mother, the beach at Fire Island isstrewnwith thebodiesofniceJewishboys, inbikinisandBaindeSoleil,alsolittlegentlemeninrestaurants,I'msure,alsowhohelpedmommiessetupmah-jongg tiles when the ladies came onMonday night to play. Christ Almighty!Afterallthoseyearsofsettingupthosetiles-onebarn!twocrack!mah-jongg!-howImadeitintotheworldofpussyatall,that'sthemystery.Iclosemyeyes,andit'snotsoawfullyhard-IseemyselfsharingahouseatOceanBeachwithsomebody in eyemake-up namedSheldon.Oh, fuck you, Shelly, they're yourfriends,youmakethegarlicbread.Mother,your littlegentlemenareallgrownup now, and there on lavender beach towels they lie, in all their furiousnarcissism.AndoyGut, one is calling out-tome!Alex?Alexander theKing?Baby, did you see where I put my tarragon? There he is, Ma, your littlegentleman, kissing someone named Sheldon on the lips! Because of his herbdressing!Do you knowwhat I read inCosmopolitan? saysmymother tomyfather.

Thattherearewomenwhoarehomosexualpersons.Comeon,grumblesPoppaBear,whatkindofgarbageisthat,whatkindofcrapisthat-?Jack,please.I'mnotmaking itup. Iread it inCosmo!I'llshow you the article!Comeon, theyprint that stuff for the circulation-Momma! Poppa! There isworse even thanthat-therearepeoplewhofuckchickens!Therearemenwhoscrewstiffs!Yousimplycannotimaginehowsomepeoplewillrespondtohavingservedfifteen-andtwenty-yearsentencesassomecrazybastard'sideaofgood!SoifIkickedyouintheshins,Ma-ma,ifIsunkmyteethintoyourwristclearthroughtothebone,countyourblessings!ForhadIkeptitallinsideme,believeme,youtoomighthavearrivedhometofindapimplyadolescentcorpseswingingoverthebathtubbyhisfather'sbelt.Worseyet,thislastsummer,insteadofsittingshivaoverasonrunningofftofarawayEurope,youmighthavefoundyourselfdiningout onmy deck on Fire Island-the two of you,me, and Sheldon.And if yourememberwhatthatgoyischelobsterdidtoyourkishkas,imaginewhatitwould

havebeenliketryingtokeepdownShelly'ssaucebéarnaise.

Sothere.

...

WhatapantomimeIhadtoperformtogetmyzylonwindbreakeroffmybackandintomylapsoastocovermyjointthatnightIbaredittotheelements.Allforthebenefitofthedriver,withinwhosePolackpoweritlaymerelytofliponthe overhead lights and thus destroy in a singlemoment fifteen years of neatnotebooks and good grades and teeth-cleaning twice a day and never eating apiece of fruitwithout thoroughlywashing it beforehand . . . Is it hot in here!Whew, is ithot!Boyohboy, Iguess I justbetterget this jacketoffandput itright down here in a neat little pile inmy lap . . .Onlywhat am Idoing?APolack'sday,myfatherhassuggestedtome,isn'tcompleteuntilhehasdraggedhisbigdumbfeetacrossthebonesofaJew.WhyamItakingthischanceinfrontofmyworstenemy?WhatwillbecomeofmeifI'mcaught!

Halfthelengthofthetunnelittakesmetounzipmyzippersilently-andthereitisagain,upitpopsagain,asalwaysswollen,burstingwithdemands,likesomeidiot macrocephalic making his parents' life a misery with his simpleton'sinsatiableneeds.

Jerkme off, I am told by the silkymonster.Here?Now? Of course here andnow.Whenwouldyouexpectanopportunitylikethistopresentitselfasecondtime?Don'tyouknowwhat thatgirl iswho isasleepbesideyou?Just lookatthatnose.Whatnose?That's thepoint-it'shardlyeven there.Lookat thathair,like off a spinningwheel. Remember 'flax' that you studied in school? That'shumanflax!Schmuck,thisistherealMcCoy.Ashikse!Andasleep!Ormaybeshe's just faking it is a strong possibility too. Faking it, but saying under herbreath,'Cmon,BigBoy,doallthedifferentdirtythingstomeyoueverwantedtodo.'Couldthatbeso?Darling,croonsmycock, letmejustbegin to list themanydifferentdirtythingsshewouldlikeyoutostartoffwith:shewantsyoutotakeherhardlittleshiksetittiesinyourhands,forone.Shedoes?Shewantsyoutofinger-fuckhershiksecunttillshefaints.OhGod.Tillshefaints!Thisisanopportunitysuchasmayneveroccuragain.So longasyoulive.Ah,but that'sthepoint,howlongisthatlikelytobe?Thedriver'snameisallX'sandY's-ifmyfatherisright,thesePolishpeoplearedirectdescendantsfromtheox!

Butwhowinsanargumentwithahard-on?Venderputzshteht,Ugtdersechelindrerd.Know that famous proverb? When the prick stands up, the brains getburiedintheground!Whentheprickstandsup,thebrainsareasgoodasdead!And'tisso!Upitjumps,adogthroughahoop,rightintothebraceletofmiddlefinger, index finger,and thumb that Ihaveprovided for theoccasion.A three-fingerhand-jobwithstaccatohalf-inchstrokesupfromthebase-thiswillbebestforabus,thiswill(hopefully)causemyzylonjackettodoaminimalamountofhoppingandjumpingaround.Tobesure,sucha techniquemeansforgoing thesensitivetip,butthatmuchoflifeissacrificeandself-controlisafactthatevenasexfiendcannotaffordtobeblindto.

Thethree-fingerhand-jobiswhatIhavedevisedforjerkingoffinpublicplaces-alreadyIhaveemployeditattheEmpireBurlesquehouseindowntownNewark.One Sunday morning-following the example of Smolka, my Tom Sawyer- Ileavethehousefortheschoolyard,whistlingandcarryingabaseballglove,andwhennooneislooking(obviouslyastateofaffairsIhardlybelievein)Ijumpaboardanempty14bus,andcrouch inmyseat the lengthof the journey.Youcan just imagine thecrowdoutside theburlesquehouseonaSundaymorning.DowntownNewarkisasemptyoflifeandmovementastheSahara,exceptforthoseoutsidetheEmpire,wholooklikethecrewoffashipstrickenwithscurvy.Am I crazy to be going in there?God only knowswhat kind of disease I amgoingtopickupoffthoseseats!Goinanyway,fuckthedisease,saysthemaniacwhospeaksintothemicrophoneofmyjockeyshorts,don'tyouunderstandwhatyou'regoingtoseeinsidethere?Awoman'ssnatch.Asnatch?Thewholething,right, all hot and dripping and ready to go.But I'll comedownwith the syphfromjusttouchingtheticket.I'llpickituponthebottomofmysneaksandtrackit intomy ownhouse. Some nutwill go berserk and stabme to death for theTrojan in my wallet.What if the cops come?Waving pistols- and somebodyruns-andtheyshootmebymistake!BecauseI'munderage.WhatifIgetkilled-or evenworse, arrested!What aboutmy parents! Look, do youwant to see acuntordon'tyouwanttoseeacunt?Iwantto!Iwantto!Theyhaveawhoreinthere,kid,whofucksthecurtainwithherbaretwat.Okay-I'llriskthesyph!I'llrisk having my brain curdle and spending the rest of my days in an insaneasylumplaying handballwithmy own shit-onlywhat aboutmypicture in theNewarkEveningNews!Whenthecopsthrowonthelightsandcry,'Okay,freaks,thisisaraid!'-whatiftheflashbulbsgooff!Andgetme-me,alreadypresidentoftheInternationalRelationsClubinmysecondyearofhighschool!Me,whoskippedtwogradesofgrammarschool!Why,in1946,becausetheywouldn'tletMarianAndersonsinginConventionHall,Iledmyentireeighth-gradeclassin

refusing to participate in the annual patriotic-essay contest sponsored by theD.A.R. I was and still am the twelve-year-old boy who, in honor of hiscourageousstandagainstbigotryandhatred,wasinvitedtotheEssexHouseinNewark to attend the convention of the C.I.O. Political Action Committee-tomounttheplatformandtoshakethehandofDr.FrankKingdon,therenownedcolumnistwhomIreadeverydayinPM.HowcanIbecontemplatinggoingintoa burlesque house with all these degenerates to see some sixty-year-old ladypretend to make love to a hunk of asbestos, when on the stage of the EssexHouseballroom.Dr.FrankKingdonhimselftookmyhand,andwhilethewholeP.A.C. rose to applaudmy opposition to theD.A.R.,Dr.Kingdon said tome,Youngman,youaregoing to seedemocracy inactionhere thismorning.Andwithmybrother-in-law-to-be,MortyFeibish, IhavealreadyattendedmeetingsoftheAmericanVeteransCommittee,IhavehelpedMorty,whoisMembershipchairman,setupthebridgechairsforachaptermeeting.IhavereadCitizenTomPainebyHowardFast, I have readBellamy'sLookingBackward, andFinnleyWrenbyPhilipWylie.WithmysisterandMorty,IhavelistenedtotherecordofmarchingsongsbythegallantRedArmyChorus.RankinandBilboandMartinDies,GeraldL.K.SmithandFatherCoughlin,allthoseFascistsonsofbitchesaremymortalenemies.SowhatinGod'snameamIdoinginasideseatattheburlesquehousejerkingoffintothepocketofmyfielder'sglove?Whatifthere'sviolence!Whatifthere'sgerms!

Yes, onlywhat if later, after the show, that one over therewith the enormousboobies,whatif...InsixtysecondsIhaveimaginedafullandwonderfullifeofutter degradation thatwe lead together on a chenille spread in a shabby hotelroom,me(theenemyofAmericaFirst)andTherealMcCoy,whichisthenameIattach to thesluttiest-lookingslut in thechorus line.Andwhata life it is, too,under our bare bulb ( HOTEL flashing just outside our window). She pushesDrake'sDaredevilCupcakes(chocolatewithawhitecreamycenter)downovermycockandtheneatsthemoffofme,flakebyflake.Shepoursmaplesyrupoutof theLogCabincanand then licks it frommytenderballsuntil they'recleanagainasalittlebabyboy's.HerfavoritelineofEnglishproseisamasterpiece:Fuck my pussy, Fuckface, till I faint.When I fart in the bathtub, she kneelsnakedonthetilefloor,leansallthewayover,andkissesthebubbles.Shesitsonmy cock while I take a shit, plunging into my mouth a nipple the size of atollhouse cookie, and all the while whispering every filthy word she knowsviciouslyinmyear.Sheputsicecubesinhermouthuntilhertongueandlipsarefreezing, then sucksme off-then switches to hot tea! Everything, everything Ihave ever thought of, she has thought of too, andwill do.The biggestwhore

(rhymesinNewarkwithpoor)thereeverwas.Andshe'smine!Oh,Thereal,I'mcoming,I'mcoming,youfuckingwhore,andsobecometheonlypersonevertoejaculate into the pocket of a baseballmitt at the Empire Burlesque house inNewark.Maybe.

ThebigthingattheEmpireishats.Downtheaislefrommeafellow-addictfiftyyearsmyseniorisdroppinghisloadinhishat.Hishat.Doctor!Oy,I'msick. Iwant to cry.Not intoyourhat, you shvantz, yougot to put that thingonyourhead! You've got to put it on now and go back outside and walk arounddowntownNewarkdrippinggissumdownyourforehead.Howwillyoueatyourlunchinthathat!

What misery descends upon me as the last drop dribbles into my mitt. Thedepression is overwhelming; evenmy cock is ashamed and doesn't giveme asinglewordofback talkas I start fromtheburlesquehouse,chastisingmyselfruthlessly,moaningaloud,Oh,no,no,notunlikeamanwhohasjustfelthissoleskid throughapileofdog turds-soleofhis shoe,but take thepun,whocares,who cares . . . Ach! Disgusting! Into his hat, for Christ's sake.Ven der patzshteht!Venderputzshteht!Intothehatthathewearsonhishead!

Isuddenlyrememberhowmymothertaughtmetopissstandingup!Listen,thismaywell be thepieceof informationwe'vebeenwaiting for, the key towhatdeterminedmycharacter,whatcausesmetobelivinginthispredicament,tornbydesires thatare repugnant tomyconscience,andaconscience repugnant tomydesires.HereishowIlearnedtopeeintothebowllikeabigman.Justlistentothis!

Istandoverthecircleofwater,mybaby'sweenyjuttingcutelyforth,whilemymommasitsbesidethetoiletontherimofthebathtub,onehandcontrollingthetapofthetub(fromwhichatricklerunsthatIamsupposedtoimitate)andherotherhandticklingtheundersideofmyprick.Irepeat: ticklingmyprickling!Iguessshethinksthat'showtogetstufftocomeoutofthefrontofthatthing,andletmetellyou,theladyisright.Makeanicesis,bubala,makeanicelittlesissyforMommy,singsMommytome,while inactualitywhat Iamstanding theremakingwithherhandonmyprongisinallprobabilitymyfuture!Imagine!Theludicrousness!Aman'scharacterisbeingforged,adestinyisbeingshaped.. .oh,maybenot...Atanyrate,forwhattheinformationisworth,inthepresenceof anotherman I simply cannot drawmywater.To this veryday.Mybladdermay be distended to watermelon proportions, but interrupted by another

presence before the streamhas begun (youwant to hear everything, okay. I'mtellingeverything)whichisthatinRome,Doctor,TheMonkeyandIpickedupacommonwhoreinthestreetandtookherbacktobedwithus.Well,nowthat'sout.Itseemstohavetakenmesometime.

Thebus,thebus,whatintervenedonthebustopreventmefromcomingalloverthe sleeping shikse's arm-I don't know. Common sense, you think? Commondecency?My rightmind, as they say, coming to the fore?Well,where is thisrightmindonthatafternoonIcamehomefromschooltofindmymotheroutofthehouse,andourrefrigeratorstockedwithabigpurplishpieceofrawliver?Ibelieve that I have already confessed to the piece of liver that I bought in abutchershopandbangedbehindabillboardonthewaytoabarmitzvahlesson.Well,Iwishtomakeacleanbreastof it,YourHoliness.That-she-it-wasn'tmyfirstpiece.MyfirstpieceIhadintheprivacyofmyownhome,rolledroundmycockinthebathroomatthree-thirty-andthenhadagainontheendofafork,atfive-thirty,alongwiththeothermembersofthatpoorinnocentfamilyofmine.

So.NowyouknowtheworstthingIhaveeverdone.Ifuckedmyownfamily'sdinner.

UnlessyousharewithTheMonkeyhercontentionthatthemostheinouscrimeofmycareerwasabandoningher inGreece.Secondmostheinous: leadingherinto that triumverate inRome. Inherestimation- some estimation, that!- I amsolely responsible for making thatménage, because mine is the stronger andmoremoralnature.TheGreatHumanitarian!shecries.Theonewhosejobitistoprotect thepoorpoorpeopleagainst their landlords!You,whogavemethatU.S.A.toread!You'rewhyIgotthatapplicationblanktoHunter!You'rewhyI'mkillingmyselftobesomethingmorethanjustsomebody'sdumbandstupidpieceofass!Andnowyouwant to treatmelikeI'mnothingbut justsomehump,touse-useforeverykinkyweirdothingyouwanttodo-andlikeyou'resupposedtobethesuperiorintellectual!Whogoesoneducationalfuckingtelevision!

Yousee,inthisMonkey'sestimationitwasmymissiontopullherupfromthosevery abysses of frivolity and waste, of perversity and wildness and lust, intowhichImyselfhavebeensovainlytryingallmylifesuccessfullytosink-Iamsupposed to rescueher from thosevery temptations I havebeen struggling alltheseyearstoyieldto!AnditisofnoconsequencetoherwhatsoeverthatinbedsheherselfhasbeenfantasyingaboutthisarrangementnolessfeverishlythanIhave.Doctor,Iaskyou,whowasitthatmadethesuggestioninthefirstplace?

Sincethenightwemet,justwhohasbeentemptingwhomwiththeprospectofyetanotherwomaninourbed?Believeme.I'mnot trying toslitheroutofmyslime-Iamtryingtoslitherintoit!-butitmustbemadeabsolutelyclear,toyouandme ifnot toher, that thishopelesslyneuroticwoman, thispatheticscrewyhillbillycunt,ishardlywhatcouldbecalledmyvictim.Isimplywillnotbendtothatvictimshit!Nowshe'sthirty,wantstobemarriedandamother,wantstoberespectableandlive inahousewithahusband(particularlyas thehigh-payingyears of her glamorous career appear to be just about over), but it does notfollow that just because she imagines herself victimized and deprived andexploited(andmayevenbe,takingalongviewofherlife),thatIamtheoneuponwhomtheyaregoingtopintherap.Ididn'tmakeherthirtyyearsoldandsingle.Ididn't takeherfromthecoalfieldsofWestVirginiaandmakehermypersonalcharge-andIdidn'tputherinbedwiththatstreetwalkereither!ThefactisthatitwasTheMonkeyherself,speakingherhigh-fashionItalian,wholeanedoutofourrentedcarandexplainedtothewhorewhatitwaswewantedandhowmuchwewerewillingtopay.Isimplysat therebehindthewheel,onefootonthegaspedal,liketheget-awaydriverthatIam...And,believeme,whenthatwhore climbed into the back seat, I thought no; and at the hotel, where wemanagedtosendherupalonetoourroom,bywayofthebar,Ithoughtnoagain.No!No!No!

Shewasn't bad-looking, thiswhore, sort of roundanddumpy,but inher earlytwentiesandwithabigpleasantopenface-andjuststupendoustits.Thosewerewhatwe'dpickedheroutfor,afterdrivingslowlyupanddowntheViaVenetoexaminingthemerchandiseonparade.Thewhore,whosenamewasLina,tookherdressoffstandingin themiddleof theroom;underneathsheworeamerrywidowcorset,fromwhichthebreastsbubbledupatoneend,andthemorethanample thighs rippled out at the other. Iwas astonishedby the garment and itstheatricality- but then I was astonished by everything, above all, that we hadgoneaheadafterallthesemonthsoftalking,andfinallydoneit.

TheMonkeycameoutofthebathroominhershortchemise(ordinarilyasightthatmademeveryhot,thatcream-coloredsilkchemisewithabeautifulMonkeyinit),andImeanwhile tookoffallmyclothesandsatnakedat thefootof thebed. That Lina spoke not a word of English only intensified the feeling thatbegan to ebb and flowbetweenTheMonkey andmyself, a kind of restrainedsadism:wecouldspeaktooneanother,exchangesecretsandplanswithoutthewhore'sunderstanding-assheandTheMonkeycouldwhisperinItalianwithoutmyknowledgeofwhattheymightbesaying,orplotting...Linaspokefirstand

TheMonkey turned to translate.She saysyouhaveabigone. Illbet she saysthat toall theboys.Thentheystoodthereintheirunderwearlookingmyway-waiting.ButsowasIwaitingtoo.Andwasmyheartpounding.Ithadtocometopass,twowomenandme...sonowwhathappens?Still,yousee,I'msayingtomyselfNo!

She wants to know, said TheMonkey, after Lina had spoken a second time,where the signore would like her to begin. The signore, said I, wishes her tobegin at the beginning . . .Oh, verywitty that reply, very nonchalant indeed,onlywecontinuetosittheremotionless,meandmyhard-on,allundressedandnoplacetogo.FinallyitisTheMonkeywhosetsourlustinmotion.Shemovesacross to Lina, above whom she towers (oh God, isn't she enough? isn't shereallysufficientformyneeds?howmanycockshaveIgot?),andputsherhandbetweenthewhore'slegs.Wehadimagineditbeforehandinallitspossibilities,dreameditalloutloudformanymanymonthsnow,andyetIamdumbstruckatthesightofTheMonkey'smiddlefingerdisappearingupintoLina'scunt.

I canbestdescribe the state I subsequentlyenteredasoneofunrelievedbusy-ness.Boy,wasIbusy!Imeantherewasjustsomuchtodo.YougohereandI'llgothere-okay,nowyougohereandI'llgothere-allright,nowshegoesdownthatway,whileIheadupthisway,andyousortofhalfturnaroundonthis...andsoitwent,Doctor,untilIcamemythirdandfinaltime.TheMonkeywasbythen the one with her back on the bed, and I the one with my ass to thechandelier(andthecameras,Ifleetinglythought)-andinthemiddle,feedinghertitsintomyMonkey'smouth,wasourwhore.Intowhosehole,intowhatsortofhole,Idepositedmyfinalloadisentirelyamatterforconjecture.ItcouldbethatintheendIwoundupfuckingsomedank,odoriferouscombinationofsoppingItalianpubichair,greasyAmericanbuttock,andabsolutelyrankbedsheet.ThenIgotup,wentintothebathroom,and,you'llallbehappytoknow,regurgitatedmydinner.My kishkas.Mother-threw them right up into the toilet bowl. Isn'tthatagoodboy?

WhenIcameoutof thebathroom.TheMonkeyandLinawere lyingasleepinoneanother'sarms.

TheMonkey'spatheticweeping,therecriminationsandtheaccusations,beganimmediatelyafterLinahaddressedanddeparted.Ibaddeliveredherintoevil.Me?You'retheonewhostuckyourfingeruphersnatchandgottheballrolling!Youkissedheronthefuckinglips-!Because,shescreamed,ifI'mgoingtodo

something,thenlikeIdoit!Butthatdoesn'tmeanIwantto!Andthen.Doctor,shebegantoberatemeaboutLina'stits,howIhadn'tplayedwiththemenough.Allyouevertalkaboutandthinkaboutistits!Otherpeople'stits!Minearesosmallandeverybodyelse'sintheworldyouseearesohuge-soyoufinallygetapair that are tremendous, and what do you do? Nothing! Nothing is anexaggeration,Monkey- thefactof thematter is thatIcouldn'talwaysfightmywaypastyou-Iamnotalesbian!Don'tyoudarecallmealesbian!BecauseifIam,youmademeone!OhJesus,no-IIdiditforyou,yes-andnowyouhatemeforit!Thenwewon'tdoitagain,forme,allright?Notifthisisthefuckingridiculousresult!

Except the next nightwe got each other very steamed up at dinner- as in theearlydaysofourcourtship,TheMonkeyretiredatonepointtotheladies'roomatRanieri'sandreturnedtothetablewithafingerredolentofpussy,whichIheldbeneathmynosetosniffandkissattillthemaindisharrived-andafteracoupleofbrandiesatDoney's,accostedLinaonceagainatherstationandtookherwithus to the hotel for round two. Only this time I relieved Lina of herundergarmentsmyselfandmountedherevenbeforeTheMonkeyhadcomebackintothebedroomfromthejohn.IfI'mgoingtodoit,Ithought.I'mgoingtodoit!All theway!Everything!Andnovomiting,either!You'renot inWeequahicHighSchoolanymore!You'renowherenearNewJersey!

WhenTheMonkeysteppedoutofthebathroomandsawthattheballgamewasalreadyunderway,shewasn'tentirelypleased.Shesatdownontheedgeofthebed, her little features smaller than I had ever seen them, and declining aninvitation to participate, silentlywatched until I had hadmyorgasm andLinahad finished faking hers. Obligingly then- sweetly, really- Lina made forbetweenmymistress'longlegs,butTheMonkeypushedherawayandwentofftositandsulkinachairbythewindow.SoLina-notapersonoverlysensitivetointerpersonalstruggle-laybackonthepillowbesidemeandbegantotellusallaboutherself.Thebaneofexistencewas theabortions.Shewas themotherofone child, a boy, with whom she lived onMonteMario ( in a beautiful newbuilding,TheMonkey translated).Unfortunately she couldnotmanage, inhersituation,anymorethanone-thoughsheloveschildren-andsowasalwaysinandoutoftheabortionist'soffice.Heronlyprecautionarydeviceseemedtobeaspermicidaldoucheofnogreatreliability.

Icouldn'tbelievethatshehadneverheardofeitherthediaphragmorthebirth-control pill. I told The Monkey to explain to her about modern means of

contraception that shecould surelyavailherselfof,probablywithonlya littleingenuity.Igotfrommymistressaverywrylook.Thewhorelistenedbutwasskeptical. It distressedmeconsiderably that she shouldbe so ignorant about amatter pertaining to her own well-being (there on the bed with her fingerswandering around in my damp pubic hair): That fucking Catholic church, Ithought...

So,whensheleftusthatnight,shehadnotonlyfifteenthousandofmylireinherhandbag,butamonth'ssupplyofTheMonkey'sEnovid-thatIhadgiventoher.

Oh,youaresomesavior!TheMonkeyshouted,afterLinahadleft.

Whatdoyouwanthertodo-getknockedupeveryotherweek?Whatsensedoesthatmake?

WhatdoIcarewhathappenstoher!saidTheMonkey,hervoice turningruralandmean.She'sthewhore!Andallyoureallywantedtodowastofuckher!Youcouldn'tevenwaituntilIwasoutofthejohntodoit!Andthenyougavehermypills!

Andwhat'sthatmean,hub?Whatexactlyareyoutryingtosay?Youknow,oneofthethingsyoudon'talwaysdisplay,Monkey,isatalentforreason.Atalentforfrankness,yes-forreason,no!

Thenleaveme!You'vegotwhatyouwanted!Leave!

MaybeIwill!

ToyouI'mjustanotherher,anyway!You,withallyourbigwordsandbigshitholyidealsandallIaminyoureyesisjustacunt-andalesbian!-andawhore!

Skipthefight.It'sboring.Sunday:weemergefromtheelevator,andwhoshouldbecomingthroughthefrontdoorofthehotelbutourLina-andwithherachildof about seven or eight, a fat little boy made out of alabaster, dressed all inrufflesandvelvetandpatentleather.Lina'shairisdownandherdarkeyes,freshfrom church, have a familiarly Itahan mournful expression. A nice-lookingpersonreally.Asweetperson(Ican'tgetoverthis!).Andshehascometoshowoffherbambino!Orsoitlooks.

Pointingtothelittleboy,shewhisperstoTheMonkey,Moltoelegante,no?Butthenshe followsusout toourcar,andwhile thechild ispreoccupiedwith thedoor-man's uniform, suggests that maybe we would like to come to herapartmentonMonteMariothisafternoonandallofusdoitwithanotherman.Shehasafriend,shesays-mindyou,Igetallthisthroughmytranslator-shehasafriendwhosheissure,shesays,wouldliketofuckthesignorina.Icanseethetears slidingout frombeneathTheMonkey'sdarkglasses,evenas shesays tome, Well, what do I tell her, yes or no? No, of course. Positively not. TheMonkeyexchangessomewordswithLinaandthenturnstomeonceagain:Shesaysitwouldn'tbeformoney,itwouldjustbefor-

No!No!

AllthewaytotheVillaAdrianasheweeps:Iwantachildtoo!Andahome!Andahusband!Iamnotalesbian!Iamnotawhore!SheremindsmeoftheeveningthepreviousspringwhenItookheruptotheBronxwithme,towhatweattheH.O. commission call EqualOpportunityNight.All those poor PuertoRicanpeople being overcharged in the supermarket! InSpanish you spoke, andoh Iwassoimpressed!Tellmeaboutyourbadsanitation,tellmeaboutyourratsandvermin, tellmeaboutyourpoliceprotection!Becausediscriminationisagainstthe law!A year in prison or a five-hundred-dollar fine!And that poor PuertoRicanmanstoodupandshouted,'Both!'Oh,youfake,Alex!Youhypocriteandphony!Bigshittoabunchofstupidspies,butIknowthetruth,Alex!Youmakewomensleepwithwhores!

Idon'tmakeanybodydoanythingtheydon'twanttodo.

Humanopportunities!Human!Howyoulovethatword!Butdoyouknowwhatitmeans, you son of a bitch pimp! I'll teach youwhat itmeans! Pull this carover,Alex!

Sorry,no.

Yes!Yes!Because Imgettingout! Im findingaphone! Imgoing to call long-distancetoJohnLindsayandtellhimwhatyoumademedo.

Thefuckyouwill.

I'llexposeyou,Alex-I'llcallJimmyBreslin!

TheninAthensshethreatenstojumpfromthebalconyunlessImarryher.SoIleave.

Shikses! Inwinter,when thepolio germs are hibernating and I canbankuponsurvivingoutsideofanironlunguntiltheendoftheschoolyear,Iice-skateonthe lake in IrvingtonPark. In the last lightof theweekdayafternoons, thenalldaylongoncrisplyshiningSaturdaysandSundays,Iskateroundandroundincircles behind the shikses who live in Irvington, the town across the city linefromthestreetsandhousesofmysafeandfriendlyJewishquarter.Iknowwheretheshikses live from thekindsof curtains theirmothershang in thewindows.Also,thegoyimhangalittlewhiteclothwithastarinthefrontwindow,inhonorofthemselvesandtheirboysawayintheservice-abluestarifthesonisliving,agold star if he is dead. A Gold Star Morn, says Ralph Edwards, solemnlyintroducingacontestantonTruthorConsequences,whoin just twominutes isgoingtogetabottleofseltzersquirtedathersnatch,followedbyabrand-newrefrigeratorforherkitchen...AGoldStarMorniswhatmyAuntClaraupstairsis too,excepthere is thedifference- shehasnogoldstar inherwindow, foradeadsondoesn't leaveher feelingproudornoble,or feelinganything, for thatmatter.Itseemsinsteadtohaveturnedher,inmyfather'swords,intoanervouscase for life. Not a day has passed sinceHeshiewas killed in theNormandyinvasion thatAuntClarahasnotspentmostof it inbed,andsobbingsobadlythatDoctorIzziehassometimestocomeandgiveherashottocalmherhysteriadown. . .But thecurtains- thecurtainsareembroideredwith lace,or fancy insome other way that my mother describes derisively as goyische taste. AtChristmastime,whenIhavenoschoolandcangoofftoice-skateatnightunderthelights,Iseethetreesblinkingonandoffbehindthegentilecurtains.Notonour block- God forbid!- or on Leslie Street, or Schley Street, or even FabianPlace,butasIapproachthelrvingtonline,hereisagoy,andthereisagoy,andtherestillanother-andthenIamintoIrvingtonanditissimplyawful:notonlyisthereatreeconspicuouslyablazeineveryparlor,butthehousesthemselvesareoutlined with colored bulbs advertising Christianity, and phonographs arepumping Silent Night out into the street as though- as though?- it were thenationalanthem,andonthesnowylawnsaresetuplittlecut-outmodelsofthesceneinthemanger-really,it'senoughtomakeyousick.Howcantheypossiblybelievethisshit?Notjustchildrenbutgrownups,too,standaroundonthesnowylawnssmilingdownatpiecesofwoodsixincheshighthatarecalledMaryandJoseph and little Jesus- and the little cut-out cows andhorses are smiling too!God!TheidiocyoftheJewsallyearlong,andthentheidiocyofthegoyimontheseholidays!Whatacountry!Isitanywonderwe'reallofushalfnuts?

Buttheshikses,ah,theshiksesaresomethingelseagain.Betweenthesmellofdampsawdustandwetwoolintheoverheatedboathouse,andthesightoftheirfresh cold blond hair spilling out of their kerchiefs and caps, I am ecstatic.Amidst these flushed and giggling girls, I lace up my skates with weak,trembling fingers, and thenout into thecoldandafter them Imove,down thewoodengangplankonmytoesandoffontotheicebehindaflutteringcoveyofthem-anosegayofshikses,agarlandofgentilegirls.IamsoawedthatIaminastateofdesirebeyondahard-on.Mycircumcisedlittledongissimplyshriveledupwithveneration.Maybeit'sdread.Howdotheygetsogorgeous,sohealthy,soblond?Mycontemptforwhattheybelieveinismorethanneutralizedbymyadoration of theway they look, theway theymove and laugh and speak- thelivestheymustleadbehindthosegoyischecurtains!Maybeaprideofshiksesismore like it- or is it a prideof shkotzim?For these are the girlswhose olderbrothers are the engaging, good-natured, confident, clean, swift, and powerfulhalfbacksforthecollegefootballteamscalledNorthwesternandTexasChristianandUCLA.Theirfathersaremenwithwhitehairanddeepvoiceswhoneverusedouble negatives, and theirmothers the ladies with the kindly smiles and thewonderfulmannerswhosaythingslike,Idobelieve,Mary,thatwesoldthirty-fivecakesattheBakeSale.Don'tbetoolate,dear,theysingoutsweetlytotheirlittletulipsastheygobouncingoffintheirbouffanttaffetadressestotheJuniorPromwithboyswhosenamesarerightoutofthegrade-schoolreader,notAaronandArnoldandMarvin,butJohnnyandBillyandJimmyandTod.NotPortnoyor Pincus, but Smith and Jones and Brown! These people are theAmericans,Doctor- like Henry Aldrich and Homer, like the Great Gildersleeve and hisnephewLeRoy, likeCorlissandVeronica, likeOogiePringlewhogets to singbeneath Jane Powell's window inADate with Judy- these are the people forwhomNatKingColesingseveryChristmastime,Chestnutsroastingonanopenfire, JackFrost nipping at your nose . . .An open fire, inmy house?No, no,theirsarethenoseswhereofhespeaks.Nothisflatblackoneormylongbumpyone, but those tiny bridgeless wonders whose nostrils point northwardautomaticallyatbirth.Andstaythatwayforlife!Thesearethechildrenfromthecoloring books come to life, the children they mean on the signs we pass inUnion,NewJersey,thatsayCHILDRENATPLAYandDRIVECAREFULLY,WELOVEOURCHILDREN-thesearethegirlsandboyswholivenextdoor,theladswhoarealwaysaskingforthejalopyandgettingintojamsandthenoutofthemagainintimeforthefinalcommercial-thekidswhoseneighborsaren'ttheSilversteinsand theLandaus,butFibberMcCeeandMolly,andOzzieandHarriet,andEthelandAlbert, andLorenzoJonesandhiswifeBelle,andJackArmstrong! JackArmstrong, theAll-AmericanGoy!- and Jack as in John, not

JackasinJake,likemyfather...Look,weateourmealswiththatradioblaringawayrightthroughtothedessert,theglowoftheyellowstationbandisthelastlightIseeeachnightbeforesleep-sodon'ttellmewe'reJ'ustasgoodasanybodyelse,don'ttellmewe'reAmericansjustliketheyare.No,no,theseblond-hairedChristians are the legitimate residents and owners of this place, and they canpumpanysongtheywantintothestreetsandnooneisgoingtostopthemeither.0America!Amer-ica!itmayhavebeengoldinthestreetstomygrandparents,itmayhavebeenachickenineverypot tomyfatherandmother,but tome,achild whose earliest movie memories are of Ann Rutherford and Alice Faye,Americaisashiksenestlingunderyourarmwhisperinglovelovelovelovelove!

So:duskonthefrozenlakeofacitypark,skatingbehindthepuffyredearmuffsandtheflutteringyellowringletsofastrangeshikseteachesmethemeaningofthewordlonging.Itisalmostmorethananangrythirteen-year-oldlittleJewishMomma'sBoycanbear.Forgivetheluxuriating,buttheseareprobablythemostpoignant hours ofmy life I'm talking about- I learn themeaning of thewordlonging, I learn the meaning of the word pang. There go the darling thingsdashing up the embankment, clattering along the shoveled walk between theevergreens-andsohereIgotoo(ifIdare!).Thesunisalmostallthewaydown,andeverythingispurple(includingmyprose)asIfollowatasafedistanceuntilthey cross the street on their skates, and go giggling into the little park-sidecandystore.BythetimeIgetupthenervetocomethroughthedoor-everyeyewillsurelybeuponme!-theyhavealreadyloosenedtheirmufflersandunzippedtheir jackets, and are raising cups of hot chocolate between their smooth andburningcheeks-andthosenoses,mysteryofmysteries!eachdisappearsentirelyintoacupfullofchocolateandmarshmallowsandcomesoutattheotherendunblemished by liquid! Jesus, lookhowguiltlessly theyeatbetweenmeals!What girls! Crazily, impetuously, I order a cup of chocolate myself- andproceed to ruinmy appetite for dinner, served promptly bymy Jumping-jackmotheratfive-thirty,whenmyfatherwalksintothehousestarved.ThenIfollowthem back to the lake. Then I follow them around the lake. Then at last myecstasy is over- they go home to the grammatical fathers and the composedmothers and the self-assured brotherswho all livewith them in harmony andblissbehindtheirgoyischecurtains,andIstart

back toNewark, tomy palpitating lifewithmy family, lived now behind thealuminum Venetians for which my mother has been saving out of her table-moneyforyears.

What a rise in social class we have made with those blinds! Headlong, mymotherseemstofeel,wehavebeencatapultedintohighsociety.Agoodpartofherlifeisnowgivenovertothedustingandpolishingoftheslatsoftheblinds;she is behind themwiping away during the day, and at dusk, looks out frombetweenhercleanslatsatthesnow,whereithasbeguntofallthroughthelightofthestreetlamp-andbeginspumpinguptheworry-machine.Itisusuallyonlyamatterofminutesbeforesheisappropriatelyfrantic.Whereishealready?shemoans,eachtimeapairofheadlightscomessweepingupthestreetandarenothis.Where,ohwhere,ourOdysseus!UpstairsUncleHymieishome,acrossthestreetLandauishome,nextdoorSilversteinishome-everybodyishomebyfiveforty-fiveexceptmyfather,andtheradiosaysthatablizzardisalreadybearingdownonNewarkfromtheNorthPole.Well,thereisjustnodoubtaboutit,wemightaswellcallTuckermanFarberabout the funeralarrangements,andstartinvitingtheguests.Yes,itneedsonlyfortheroadstobegintoglistenwithiceforthe assumption to be made that my father, fifteen minutes late for dinner, iscrunchedupagainstatelegraphpolesomewhere,lyingdeadinapoolofhisownblood.My mother comes into the kitchen, her face by now a face out of ElGreco.MytwostarvingArmenians,shesaysinabreakingvoice,eat,goahead,darlings-start, there'snosensewaiting-Andwhowouldn'tbegrief-struck?Justthink of the years to come- her two babieswithout a father, herselfwithout ahusband and provider, all because out of nowhere, just as that poormanwasstartinghome,ithadtobegintosnow.

MeanwhileIwonderifwithmyfatherdeadIwillhavetogetajobafterschooland Saturdays, and consequently give up skating at Irvington Park- give upskatingwithmy shikses before I have even spoken a singleword to a one ofthem.IamafraidtoopenmymouthforfearthatifIdonowordswillcomeout-orthewrongwords.Portnoy,yes,it'sanoldFrenchname,acorruptionofportenoir,meaningblackdoororgate.ApparentlyintheMiddleAgesinFrancethedoortoourfamilymanorhousewaspainted...etceteraandsoforth.No,no,theywillheartheoyattheend,andthejigwillbeup.AlPortthen,AlParsons!Howdoyoudo.MissMcCoy,mindifIskatealongside,mynameisAlParsons-butisn'tAlanasJewishandforeignasAlexander?Iknowthere'sAlanLadd,butthere'salsomyfriendAlanRubin,theshortstopforoursoftballteam.Andwait'llshehearsI'mfromWeequahic.Oh,what'sthedifferenceanyway,Icanlieaboutmyname,Icanlieaboutmyschool,buthowamIgoingtolieaboutthisfuckingnose? You seem like a very nice person,Mr. Porte-Noir, but why do you goaroundcoveringthemiddleofyourfacelikethat?Becausesuddenlyithastakenoff, themiddleofmyface!Becausegoneis thebuttonofmychildhoodyears,

that pretty little thing that people used to look at in my carriage, and lo andbehold, themiddleofmyfacehasbegun to reachout towardGod!Porte-NoirandParsonsmyass,kid,youhavegotJ-E-Wwrittenrightacrossthemiddleofthatface-lookattheshnozonhim,forGod'ssakes!Thatain'tanose,it'sahose!Screwoff,Jewboy!Getofftheiceandleavethesegirlsalone!

Andit'strue.Ilowermyheadtothekitchentableandonapieceofmyfather'sofficestationeryoutlinemyprofilewithapencil.Andit'sterrible.Howhasthishappenedtomewhowassogorgeousinthatcarriage.Mother!Atthetopithasbeguntoaimtowardtheheavens,whilesimultaneously,wherethecartilageendshalfway down the slope, it is beginning to bend back toward my mouth. AcoupleofyearsandIwon'tevenbeabletoeat,thisthingwillbedirectlyinthepathofthefood!No!No!Itcantbe!Igointothebathroomandstandbeforethe

mirror,Ipressthenostrilsupwardwithtwofingers.Fromthesideit'snottoobadeither,but in front,wheremyupper lipused tobe, there isnowjust teethandgum.Somegoy. I look likeBugsBunny! I cutpieces from thecardboard thatcomesbackintheshirtsfromthelaundryand

Scotch-tape them to either side ofmy nose, thus restoring in profile the niceupward curve that I sported all throughmy childhood . . . but which is nowgone! It actually seems that this sprouting ofmy beak dates exactly from thetimematIdiscoveredtheshiksesskatinginIrvingtonPark-asthoughmyownnose bone has taken it upon itself to act as my parents' agent! Skating withshikses? Just you try it,wise guy.RememberPinocchio?Well, that is nothingcomparedwithwhat isgoing tohappen toyou.They'll laughand laugh,howlandhoot-andworse,callingyouGoldberginthebargain,sendvouonyourwavroasting with fury and resentment.Who do you think theyre always gigglingaboutasitis?You!TheskinnyYidandhisshnozfollowingthemaroundtheiceevery single afternoon- andcan't talk!Please,will you stopplayingwithyournose, my mother says. I'm not interested, Alex, in what's growing up insidethere,notatdinner.Butit's toobigWhat?What's toobig?saysmyfather.Mynose!Iscream.Please,itgivesyoucharacter,mymothersays,soleaveitalone!

Butwhowantscharacter?IwantTherealMcCoy!Inherblueparkaandherredearmuffsandherbigwhitemittens-MissAmerica,onblades!Withhermistletoeandherplumpudding(whateverthatmaybe),andherone-familyhousewithabanisterandastaircase,andparentswhoaretranquilandpatientanddignified,and also a brotherBillywhoknowshow to takemotors apart and saysMuch

obliged,andisn'tafraidofanythingphysical,andohthewayshe'llcuddlenexttomeonthesofainherAngorasweaterwithherlegspulledbackupbeneathhertartanskirt,andthewayshellturnatthedoorwayandsaytome,Andthankyouever so much for a wonderful wonderful evening, and then this amazingcreature-towhomnoonehaseversaidShah!orIonlyhopeyourchildrenwilldo thesame toyousomeday! - thisperfect,perfect-stranger,who isassmoothandshinyandcoolascustard,willkissme-raisinguponeshapelycalfbehindher-andmynoseandmynamewillhavebecomeasnothing.

Look,I'mnotaskingfortheworld-Ijustdon'tseewhyIshouldgetanylessoutof life than some schmuck like Oogie Pringle or Henry Aldrich. I want JanePowell too, God damn it! And Corliss and Veronica. I too want to be theboyfriend.ofDebbieReynolds-it'stheEddieFisherinmecomingout,that'sall,the longing in all us swarthy Jewboys for those bland blond exotics calledshikses...OnlywhatIdon'tknowyetinthesefeverishyearsisthatforeveryEddieyearningforaDebbie,thereisaDebbieyearningforanEddie-aMarilynMonroe yearning for herArthurMiller- even anAlice Faye yearning for PhilHarris.EvenJayneMansfieldwasabouttomarryone,remember,whenshewassuddenlykilled in a car crash?Whoknew,you see,whoknewbackwhenwewerewatchingNationalVelvet,thatthisstupendouspurple-eyedgirlwhohadthesupreme goyische gift of all, the courage and know-how to get up and ridearoundonahorse(asopposedtohavingonepullyourwagon,liketherag-sellerforwhomIamnamed)-whowouldhavebelievedthatthisgirlonthehorsewiththeridingbreechesandtheperfectenunciationwaslustingforourkindnolessthanweforhers?BecauseyouknowwhatMikeToddwas-acheapfacsimileofmyUncleHymieupstairs!AndwhoinhisrightmindwouldeverhavebelievedthatElizabethTaylorhadthehotsforUncleHymie?Whoknewthatthesecrettoashiksesheart (andbox)wasnot topretend tobesomehook-nosedvarietyofgoy,asboringandvacuousasherownbrother,buttobewhatone'sunclewas,tobewhatone'sfatherwas,tobewhateveronewasoneself,insteadofdoingsomepathetic little Jewish imitation of one of those half-dead, ice-cold shaygetspricks,JimmyorJohnnyorTod,wholook,whothink,whofeel,whotalklikefighter-bomberpilots!

LookatTheMonkey,myoldpalandpartner incrime.Doctor, justsayinghername, justbringingher tomind,givesmeahard-ononthespot!ButIknowIshouldn't call her or see her ever again. Because the bitch is crazy! The sex-crazedbitchisoutofhermind!Puretrouble!

But-what,whatwasIsupposedtobebutherJewishsavior?TheKnightontheBigWhiteSteed,thefellowintheShiningArmorthelittlegirlsusedtodreamwould come to rescue them from the castles in which they were alwaysimaginingthemselvestobeimprisoned,well,asfarasacertainschoolofshikseisconcerned(ofwhomTheMonkeyisagorgeousexample), thisknight turnsout to be none other than a brainy, balding, beaky Jew, with a strong socialconscienceandblackhaironhisballs,whoneitherdrinksnorgamblesnorkeepsshowgirlsontheside;amanguaranteedtogivethemkiddiestorearandKafkato read- a regular domesticMessiah! Sure, hemay as a kind of tribute to hisrebelliousadolescencesayshitand fucka lotaround thehouse- in frontof thechildren even- but the indisputable and heartwarming fact is thathe is alwaysaroundthehouse.Nobars,nobrothels,noracetracks,nobackgammonallnightlongattheRacquetClub(aboutwhichsheknowsfromherstylishpast)orbeertillallhoursdownat theAmericanLegion(whichshecanrememberfromhermean and squalid youth).No, no indeed-whatwe have before us, ladies andgentlemen,directfromalongrecord-breakingengagementwithhisownfamily,isaJewishboyjustdyinginhiseverycelltobeGood,Responsible,Dutifultoafamilyofhisown.ThesamepeoplewhobroughtHarryGolden'sFor2˘Plainbringyounow-TheAlexanderPortnoyShow! Ifyou likedArthurMillerasasaviorofshikses, you'll just loveAlex!You see,mybackgroundwas in everywaythatwascrucial toTheMonkeytheveryoppositeofwhatshehadhad toendure eighteenmiles south ofWheeling, in a coal town calledMoundsville-whileIwasupinNewJerseydrowninginschmaltz(lollinginJewishwarmth,asTheMonkeywouldhaveit),shewasdowninWestVirginiavirtuallyfreezingtodeath, nothingbut chattel really to a fatherwhowas, as shedescribes him,himself little more than first cousin to a mule, and some kind ofincomprehensible bundle of needs to amotherwhowas aswell-meaning as itwas possible to be if you were a hillbilly one generation removed from theAlleghenies,awomanwhocouldneitherreadnorwritenorcountallthathigh,andtotopthingsoff,hadn'tasinglemolarinherhead.

AstoryofTheMonkey'swhichmadeastrongimpressiononme(notthatallherstoriesdidn'tcompelthisparticularneurotic'sattention,withtheirthemesofcruelty,ignorance,andexploitation):Oncewhenshewaseleven,andagainstherfather'swillhad sneakedoffonaSaturday toaballet classgivenby the localartiste(calledMr.Maurice),theoldmancameafterherwithabelt,beatherwithitaroundtheanklesallthewayhome,andthenlockedherintheclosetfortherest of the day- andwith her feet tied together for goodmeasure.Ketch youdownbythatqueeragain,you,andwon'tjusttie'emup.Illdomore'nthat,don't

youworry!

WhenshefirstarrivedinNewYork,shewaseighteenandhadn'tanybackteethto speak of, either. They had all been extracted (for a reason she still can'tfathom) by the local Moundsville practitioner, as gifted a dentist as sheremembersMr.Mauricetohavebeenadancer.Whenwetwomet,nearlyayearagonow.TheMonkeyhadalreadybeenthroughhermarriageandherdivorce.Herhusbandhadbeenafifty-year-oldFrenchindustrialist,whohadcourtedandmarriedheroneweekinFlorence,whereshewasmodelinginashowatthePittiPalace.Subsequenttothemarriage,hissexlifeconsistedofgettingintobedwithhisyoungandbeautifulbrideand jerkingoff intoacopyofamagazinecalledGarter Belt, which he had flown over to him from Forty-second Street. TheMonkey has at her disposal a kind of dumb, mean, rural twang which shesometimeslikestouse,andwouldinvariablydropdownintoitwhendescribingtheexcessestowhichshewasexpectedtobeawitnessasthetycoon'swife.Shecouldbeveryfunnyaboutthefourteenmonthsshehadspentwithhim,despitethefactthatitwasprobablyagrimifnotterrifyingexperience.ButhehadflownhertoLondonafterthemarriageforfivethousanddollars'worthofdentalwork,andthenbackinParis,hungaroundherneckseveralhundredthousanddollarsmoreinjewelry,andforthelongestwhile,saysTheMonkey,thiscausedhertofeelloyaltohim.Assheputit(beforeIforbadehereveragaintosaylike,andman,andswinger,andcrazy,andagroove):Itwas,likeethics.

What caused her finally to run for her life were the little orgies he began toarrange after jerking off intoGarter Belt (orwas it SpikedHeels?) became aboretobothofthem.Awoman,preferablyblack,wouldbeengagedforaveryhigh sum to squat naked upon a glass coffee table and take a crap while thetycoonlayflatonhisback,directlybeneaththe table,andjerkedhisdongoff.Andastheshitsplatteredontheglasssixinchesaboveherbeloved'snose,TheMonkey, our poorMonkey,was expected to sit on the red damask sofa, fullyclothed,sippingcognacandwatching.

It was a couple of years after her return to NewYork- I suppose she's abouttwenty-fourortwenty-fivebythistime-thatTheMonkeytriedtokillherselfalittlebymakingapassatherwristswitharazor,allonaccountofthewayshehadbeentreatedatLeClub,orElMorocco,ormaybeLInterdit,byhercurrentboyfriend, oneor another of thehundredbest-dressedmen in theworld.ThusshefoundherwaytotheillustriousDr.MorrisFrankel,henceforthtobeknownin these confessions as Harpo. Off and on during these past five years The

MonkeyhasthrashedaroundonHarpo'scouch,waitingforhimtotellherwhatshemustdotobecomesomebody'swifeandsomebody'smother.Why,criesTheMonkey to Harpo, why must she always be involved with such hideous andcold-heartedshits,insteadofwithmen?Why?Harpo,speak!Saysomethingtome!Anything!Oh,Iknowhe'salive, The Monkey used to say, her littlefeatures scrunchedup in anguish, I just know it. Imean,who ever heardof adeadmanwithanansweringservice?So,inandoutoftherapy(ifthat'swhatitis) TheMonkey goes -in whenever some new shit has broken her heart, outwheneverthenextlikelyknighthasmadehisappearance.

Iwasabreakthrough.Harpoofcoursedidn'tsayyes,butthenhedidn'tsayno,either,whenshesuggestedthatthiswaswhoImightbe.Hedidcough,however,and this The Monkey takes as her confirmation. Sometimes he coughs,sometimeshegrunts, sometimeshebelches, once in awhile he farts,whethervoluntarilyornotwhoknows,thoughIholdthatafarthastobeinterpretedasanegative transference reactiononhispart.Breakie,you're sobrilliant!Breakiewhenshe isbeingmysexkittenandcat-andwhenshe is fighting forher life:YoubigsonofabitchJew?Iwanttobemarriedandhuman!

So,Iwastobeherbreakthrough.. .butwasn'tshetobemine?WholikeTheMonkey had ever happened to me before-or will again? Not that I had notprayed, of course. No, you pray and you pray and you pray, you lift yourimpassioned prayers to God on the altar of the toilet seat, throughout youradolescenceyoudeliverup toHimthe livingsacrificeofyourspermatazoabythegallon-andthenonenight,aroundmidnight,onthecornerofLexingtonandFifty-second, when you have come really to the point of losing faith in theexistenceofsuchacreatureasyouhavebeenimaginingforyourselfevenuntoyourthirty-secondyear,theresheis,wearingatanpantssuit,andtryingtohailacab-lanky,withdarkandabundanthair,andsmallishfeaturesthatgiveherfaceakindofpetulantexpression,andanabsolutelyfantasticass.

Why not?What's lost?Whats gained, however? Go ahead, you shackled andfetteredsonofabitch,speaktoher.Shehasanassonherwiththeswellandthecleftoftheworld'smostperfectnectarine!Speak!

Hi-softly,andwithalittlesurprise,asthoughImighthavemethersomewherebefore...

Whatdoyouwant?

Tobuyyouadrink,Isaid.

Arealswinger,shesaid,sneering.

Sneering! Two seconds- and two insults! To the Assistant Commissioner ofHumanOpportunityforthiswholecity!Toeatyourpussy,baby,how'sthat?MyGod!She'sgoingtocallacop!Who'llturnmeintotheMayor!

That'sbetter,shereplied.

Andsoacabpulledup,andwewent toherapartment,whereshetookoffherclothesandsaid,Goahead.

My incredulity! That such a thing was happening to me! Did I eat! It wassuddenly as thoughmy life were taking place in the middle of a wet dream.ThereIwas,goingdownatlastonthestarofallthosepornographicfilmsthatIhadbeenproducinginmyheadsinceIfirstlaidahanduponmyownjoint...Now me you, she said, - one good turn deserves another, and. Doctor, thisstrangerthenproceededtosuckmeoffwithamouththatmighthavegonetoaspecialcollegetolearnallthewonderfulthingsitknew.Whatafind,Ithought,shetakesitrightdowntotheroot!WhatamouthIhavefalleninto!Talkaboutopportunities!Andsimultaneously:Getout!Go!Whoandwhatcanthispersonbe!

Laterwehada long,serious,verystirringconversationaboutperversions.Shebegan by asking if I had ever done it with a man. I said no. I asked ( as Igatheredshewantedmeto)ifshehadeverdoneitwithanotherwoman.

...Nope.

...Wouldyouliketo?

...Wouldyoulikemeto?

...Whynot,sure.

...Wouldyouliketowatch?

..,Isupposeso.

...Thenmaybeitcouldbearranged.

...Yes?

...Yes.

...Well,Imightlikethat.

Oh,shesaid,withanicesarcasticedge,Ithinkyoumight.

Shetoldmethenthatonlyamonthbefore,whenshehadbeenillwithavirus,acouplesheknewhadcomebytomakedinnerforher.Afterthemealtheysaidtheywantedhertowatchthemscrew.Soshedid.Shesatuponthebedwithatemperatureof102,andtheytookofftheirclothesandwentatitonthebedroomrug-Andyouknowwhattheywantedmetodo,whiletheyweremakingit?

No.

Ihadsomebananasonthecounterinthekitchen,andtheywantedmetoeatone.WhileIwatched.

Forthearcanesymbolism,nodoubt.

Thewhat?

Whydidtheywantyoutoeatthebanana?

Man,Idon'tknow.IguesstheywantedtoknowIwasreallythere.Theywantedtolikehearme.Chewing.Look,doyoujustsuck,ordoyoufuck,too?

The realMcCoy!My slut from theEmpireBurlesque-without the tits, but sobeautiful!

Ifucktoo.

Well,sodoI.

Isn'tthatacoincidence,Isaid,usrunningintoeachother.

Shelaughedforthefirsttime,andinsteadofthatfinallyputtingmeatmyease,suddenlyIknew-somebigspadewasgoing to leapoutof thebedroomcloset

andspringformyheartwithhisknife-orsheherselfwasgoingtogoberserk,the laughter would erupt into wild hysterics- and God only knew whatcatastrophewouldfollow.Eddie

Waitkus!

Was she a call girl? A maniac?Was she in cahoots with some Puerto Ricanpusherwhowasabouttomakehisentranceintomylife?Enterit-andendit,forthefortydollarsinmywalletandawatchfromKorvette's?

Look,Isaid,inmycleverway,doyoudothis,moreorless,allthetime...?

Whatkindofquestionisthat!Whatkindofshit-eatingremarkisthatsupposedtobe!Areyouanotherheartlessbastardtoo?Don'tyouthinkIhavefeelingstoo!

I'msorry.Excuseme.

Butsuddenly,wheretherehadbeenfuryandoutrage,therewereonlytears.DidI need any more evidence that this girl was, to say the least, a little erraticpsychologically?Anymaninhisrightmindwouldsurelythenhavegottenup,gottendressed,andgottenthehelloutinonepiece.Andcountinghisblessings.Butdon't you see-my rightmind is just anothername formy fears!My rightmindissimplythatinheritanceofterrorthatIbringwithheshouldbestrungup,thatsonofabitch,hungbyhis fuckingstorm-trooper'sboots tillhe'sdead! Inthestreet,whohadbeentrembling,meorthegirl?Me!Whohadtheboldness,thedaring,theguts,meorthegirl?Thegirl!Thefuckinggirl!

Look, she said,wiping away the tearswith thepillowcase, look, I lied to youbefore,incaseyou'reinterested,incaseyou'rewritingthisdownorsomething.

Yeah? About what? And here he comes, I thought, my shvartze, out of thecloset,-eyes,teeth,andrazorbladeflashing!Herecomestheheadline:ASSTHUMANOPPYCOMMISHFOUNDHEADLESSINGO-GOGIRL'SAPT!

ImeanlikewhatthefuckdidIliefor,toyou?

Idon'tknowwhatyou'retalkingabout,soIcan'ttellyou.

Imeantheydidn'twantmetoeatthebanana.Myfriendsdidn'twantmetoeatanybanana.Iwantedto.

Thus:TheMonkey.

Asforwhyshedidlie,tome?Ithinkitwasherwayofinformingherselfrightoff-semiconsciously,Isuppose-thatshehadsomehowfallenuponahigher-typeperson:thatpickuponthestreetnotwithstanding,andthewhole-heartedsuckinher bed notwithstanding- followed by that heart-stirring swallow- and thediscussionofperversionsthatfollowedthat...still,shereallyhadn'twantedmeto think of her as given over wholly to sexual excess and adventurism . . .BecauseaglimpseofmewasapparentlyallittookforhertoleapimaginativelyaheadintoplayboysintheirCardinsuits;nomoremarried,desperateadvertisingexecutives inovernight fromConnecticut;nomore faggots inBritishwarmersfor lunchatSerendipity,oraging lechers fromthecosmetics industrydroolingintotheirhundred-dollardinnersatLePavilionatnight...No,atlonglastthefigurewhohaddwelledthesemanyyearsattheheartofherdreams(soitturnedout),amanwhowouldbegoodtoawifeandtochildren...aJew.AndwhataJew!Firstheeatsher,and then, immediatelyafter,comesslitheringonupandbeginstalkingandexplainingthings,makingjudgmentsleftandright,advisingherwhatbookstoreadandhowtovote,tellingherhowlifeshouldandshouldnotbelived.Howdoyouknowthat?sheusedtoaskwarily.Imeanthat's justyour opinion.What do youmean opinion- it's not my opinion, girlie, it's thetruth.Imean,isthatlikesomethingeverybodyknows...orjustyou?AJewishman,who cared about thewelfare of the poor of the City ofNewYork,waseatingherpussy!SomeonewhohadappearedoneducationalTVwasshootingoffintohermouth!Inaflash,Doctor,shemusthaveseenitall-canthatbe?Arewomenthatcalculating?AmIactuallyanaifaboutcunt?Sawandplanneditall,didshe,rightoutthereonLexingtonAvenue?...Thegentlefireburninginthebook-linedlivingroomofourcountryhome,theIrishnannybathingthechildrenbeforeMotherputs them tobed, and thewillowyex-model, jet-setter, and sexdeviant,daughteroftheminesandmillsofWestVirginia,self-styledvictimofadozenrealbastards,seenhereinherSaintLaurentpajamasandhercrushed-kidboots,dippingthoughtfullyintoanovelbySamuelBeckett . . .seenhereonafur rug with her husband, whom People Are Talking About, The SaintliestCommissioner of the City of NewYork . . . seen here with his pipe and histhinningkinkyblackHebehair,inallhisJewishmessianicfervorandcharm...

Whathappened finally at lrvingtonPark: lateon aSaturday afternoon I foundmyself virtually alone on the frozen lake with a darling fourteen-year-oldshikseleh whom I had been watching practicing her figure eights since afterlunch,agirlwhoseemedtometopossessthemiddle-classcharmsofMargaret

O'Brien-thatquicknessandcutenessaroundthesparklingeyesandthefrecklednose- and the simplicity and plainness, the lower-class availability, the lankblond hair of Peggy Ann Garner. You see, what looked like movie stars toeveryoneelsewerejustdifferentkindsofshiksestome.OftenIcameoutofthemovies tryingtofigureoutwhathighschool inNewarkJeanneGrain(andhercleavage)orKathrynGrayson(andhercleavage)wouldbegoingtoiftheyweremyage.AndwherewouldIfindashikselikeGeneTiemey,whoIusedtothinkmightevenbeaJew,ifshewasn'tactuallypartChinese.MeanwhilePeggyAnnO'Brien has made her last figure eight and is coasting lazily off for theboathouse,andIhavedonenothingabouther,oraboutanyofthem,nothingallwinter long, andnowMarch is almost uponus-the red skating flagwill comedownovertheparkandonceagainwewillbeintopolioseason.Imaynotevenliveintothefollowingwinter,sowhatamIwaitingfor?Now!Ornever!Soafterher-whensheissafelyoutofsight-Imadlybegintoskate.Excuseme,Iwillsay,butwouldyoumindifIwalkyouhome?IfIwalked,orifIwalk-whichismorecorrect?BecauseIhavetospeakabsolutelyperfectEnglish.NotawordofJewinit.Wouldyoucareperhapstohaveahotchocolate?MayIhaveyourphonenumber and come to call some evening?My name? I amAlton Peterson - anameIhadpickedformyselfoutoftheMontclairsectionoftheEssexCountyphone book- totallygoy Iwas sure, and sounds likeHansChristianAnderseninto the bargain.What a coup! Secretly I have been practicing writing AltonPetersonallwinter long,practicingon sheetsofpaper that I subsequently tearfrommynotebookafterschoolandburnsothattheywon'thavetobeexplainedto anybody in my house. I am Alton Peterson, I am Alton Peterson- AltonChristianPeterson?Oristhatgoingalittletoofar?AltonC.Peterson?AndsopreoccupiedamIwithnotforgettingwhomIwouldnowliketobe,soanxioustomake it to theboathousewhile she is still changing out of her skates-andwondering, too,what I'll saywhensheasksabout themiddleofmy faceandwhat happened to it (old hockey injury?Fell offmyhorsewhile playingpoloafterchurchoneSundaymorning-toomanysausagesforbreakfast,hahaha!)-Ireach the edge of the lakewith the tip of one skate a little sooner than I hadplanned- and so go hurtling forward onto the frostbitten ground, chipping onefronttoothandsmashingthebonyprotrusionatthetopofmytibia.

Myrightlegisinacast,fromankletohip,forsixweeks.IhavesomethingthatthedoctorcallsOsgoodShlatterer'sDisease.Afterthecastcomesoff,Idragthelegalongbehindme likeawar injury-whilemyfathercries,Bend it!Doyouwanttogothroughlifelikethat?Bendit!Walknatural,willyou!StopfavoringthatOscarShatteredleg,Alex,oryouaregoingtowindupacripplefortherest

ofyourdays!

Forskatingaftershikses,underanalias,Iwouldbeacripplefortherestofmydays.

Withalifelikemine.Doctor,whoneedsdreams?

BubblesGirardi,aneighteen-year-oldgirlwhohadbeenthrownoutofHillsideHigh School and was subsequently found floating in the swimming pool atOlympicParkbymylasciviousclassmate,Smolka,thetailor'sson...

Formyself,Iwouldn'tgonearthatpoolifyoupaidme-itisabreedinggroundforpolio and spinalmeningitis, not tomentiondiseasesof the skin, the scalp,andtheasshole-itisevenrumoredthatsomekidfromWeequahiconcesteppedintothefootbathbetweenthelockerroomandthepoolandactuallycameoutattheotherendwithouthistoenails.Andyetthatiswhereyoufindthegirlswhofuck.Wouldn'tyouknowit?ThatistheplacetofindthekindsofshiksesWhoWill Do Anything! If only a person is willing to risk polio from the pool,gangrenefromthefootbath,ptomainefromthehotdogs,andelephantiasisfromthesoapandthetowels,hemightpossiblygetlaid.

Wesitinthekitchen,whereBubbleswasworkingovertheironingboardwhenwe arrived- in her slip) Mandel and I leaf through back numbers of Ringmagazine,whileinthelivingroomSmolkatriestotalkBubblesintotakingonhistwofriendsasaspecialfavortohim.Bubbles'brother,whoinaformerlifewas a paratrooper, is nobody we have to worry about, Smolka assures us,becauseheisoffinHobokenboxinginafeatureeventunderthenameJohnnyGeronimoGirardi.Herfatherdrivesataxiduringtheday,andacarforTheMobat night- he is out somewhere chauffeuring gangsters around and doesn't gethomeuntiltheearlyhours,andthemotherwedon'thavetoworryaboutbecauseshe's dead. Perfect, Smolka, perfect, I couldn't feel more secure. Now I haveabsolutelynothingtoworryaboutexcepttheTrojanIhavebeencarryingaroundsolonginmywalletthatinsideitstinfoilwrapperithasprobablybeenhalfeatenawaybymold.OnespurtandthewholethingwillgoflyinginpiecesallovertheinsideofBubblesGirardi'sbox-andthenwhatdoIdo?

TobesurethattheseTrojansreallyholdupunderpressure,Ihavebeendowninmycellarallweekfillingthemwithquartafterquartofwater-expensiveasitis,I have been using them to jerk off into, to see if they will stand up undersimulatedfuckingconditions.Sofarso good.Onlywhatabout thesacredonethathasbynowleftan indelible imprintof itsshapeuponmywallet, theveryspecialoneIhavebeensavingtogetlaidwith,withthelubricatedtip?HowcanI possibly expect no damage to have been done after sitting on it in school-crushing it in that wallet- for nearly sixmonths? Andwho says Geronimo isgoing to be all night in Hoboken? And what if the person the gangsters are

supposed to murder has already dropped dead from fright by the time theyarrive,andMr.Girardiissenthomeearlyforagoodnight'srest?Whatifthegirlhas the syph! But then Smolka must have it too! - Smolka, who is alwaysdraggingdrinksoutofeverybodyelse'sbottleofcreamsoda,andgrabbingwithhishandatyourputz!That'sallIneed,withmymother!I'dneverheartheendofit!Alex,whatisthatyou'rehidingunderyourfoot?Nothing.Alex,please,Iheard a definite clink. What is that that fell out of your trousers that you'restepping on itwith your foot?Out of your good trousers!Nothing!My shoe!Leaveme alone! Youngman, what are you- ohmyGod! Jack! Come quick!Look- lookonthefloorbyhisshoe!Withhispantsaroundhisknees,andtheNewark News turned back to the obituary page and clutched in his hand, herushes into thekitchenfromthebathroom-Nowwhat?Shescreams (that'sheranswer) and points beneathmy chair.What is that,Mister- some smart high-schooljoke?demandsmyfather,inafury-whatisthatblackplasticthingdoingon the kitchen floor? It's not a plastic one, I say, and break into sobs. It'smyown. I caught the syph froman eighteen-year- old Italian girl inHillside, andnow,now,Ihavenomorep-p-p-penis!Hishttlething,screamsmymother,thatIused to tickle it to make him go wee-wee- DON'T TOUCH IT NOBODYMOVE, criesmy father, formymother seems about to leap forward onto thefloor,likeawomanintoherhusband'sgrave-call-theHumaneSociety-Likefora rabiesdog? sheweeps. Sophie,what else are you going to do?Save it in adrawersomewhere?Toshowhischildren?Heain'tgoing tohavenochildren!Shebeginstohowlpathetically,agrievinganimal,whilemyfather.. .butthescenefadesquickly,for inamatterofsecondsIamblind,andwithinthehourmybrainistheconsistencyofhotFarina.

TackedabovetheGirardisinkisapictureofJesusChristfloatinguptoHeaveninapinknightgown.Howdisgustingcanhumanbeingsbe!TheJewsIdespisefor their narrow-mindedness, their self-righteousness, the incredibly bizarresense that these cave men who are my parents and relatives have somehowgottenof their superiority- butwhen it comes to tawdriness and cheapness, tobeliefsthatwouldshameevenagorilla,yousimplycannottopthegoyim.Whatkindofbaseandbrainlessschmucksarethesepeopletoworshipsomebodywho,numberone,neverexisted,andnumbertwo,ifhedid,lookingashedoesinthatpicture,waswithoutadoubtThePansyofPalestine.Inapageboyhaircut,withaPalmolivecomplexion-andwearingagownthatIrealizetodaymusthavecomefrom Fredericks of Hollywood! Enough of God and the rest of that garbage!Downwithreligionandhumangroveling!Upwithsocialismandthedignityofman!Actually,whyIshouldbevisitingtheGirardihomeisnotsoastolaytheir

daughter-pleaseGod!-buttoevangelizeforHenryWallaceandGlenTaylor.Ofcourse!ForwhoaretheGirardisifnotthepeople,onwhosebehalf,forwhoserightsandlibertiesanddignities,Iandmybrother-in-law-to-bewinduparguingevery Sunday afternoon with our hopelessly ignorant elders (who voteDemocraticandthinkNeanderthal),myfatherandmyuncle.Ifwedon'tlikeithere, they tellus,whydon'twegoback toRussiawhereeverything ishunky-dory?You'regoing to turn thatkid intoaCommunist,myfatherwarnsMorty,whereuponIcryout,Youdon'tunderstand!Allmenarebrothers!Christ,Icouldstranglehimonthespotforbeingsoblindtohumanbrotherhood!

Now that he is marrying my sister, Morty drives the truck and works in thewarehouseformyuncle,andinamannerofspeaking,sodoI:threeSaturdaysina row now I have risen before dawn to go out with him delivering cases ofSqueezetogeneralstoresoffintheruralwildswhereNewJerseyjoinswiththePoconos. I havewritten a radioplay, inspiredbymymaster,NormanCorwin,andhiscelebrationofV-EDay,OnaNoteofTriumph(acopyofwhichMortyhasboughtme formybirthday).So theenemy isdead inanalleybackof theWilhelmstrasse;takeabow,G.I.,takeabow,littleguy...Justtherhythmalonecancausemyfleshtoripple,likethebeatofthemarchingsongofthevictoriousRedArmy,andthesongwelearnedingradeschoolduringthewar,whichourteacherscalledTheChineseNationalAnthem.Arise,yewhorefusetobebond-slaves, with our very flesh and blood -oh, that defiant cadence! I remembereverysingleheroicword!-wewillbuildanewgreatwall!Andthenmyfavoriteline,commencingasitdoeswithmyfavoritewordintheEnglishlanguage:In-dig-na-tionfillstheheartsofallofourcoun-try-men!A.-rise!A.-rise!A-RISE!

IopentothefirstpageofmyplayandbegintoreadaloudtoMortyaswestartoff in the truck, through Irvington, the Oranges, on toward theWest-Illinois!Indiana! Iowa!OmyAmericaof theplainsand themountainsand thevalleysandtheriversandthecanyons. . .It iswithj'ustsuchpatrioticincantationsasthesethatIhavebeguntoputmyselftosleepatnight,afterjerkingoffintomysock.My radio play is calledLetFreedomRing! It is amorality play (now Iknow)whosetwomajorcharactersarenamedPrejudiceandTolerance,anditiswritten inwhat Icallprose-poetry.Wepull intoadiner inDover,NewJersey,justasTolerancebeginstodefendNegroesforthewaytheysmell.Thesoundofmyownhumane, compassionate,Latinate, alliterative rhetoric, inflated almostbeyondrecognitionbyRoget'sThesaurus(abirthdaygiftfrommysister)-plusthefactofthedawnandmybeingoutinit-plusthetattooedcountermaninthedinerwhomMortycallsChief -pluseatingfor thefirst timeinmylifehome-

friedpotatoesforbreakfast-plusswingingbackup into thecabof the truck inmyLevisandlumber)'acketandmoccasins(whichoutonthehighwaynolongerseemthecostumethattheydointhehallsofthehighschool)-plusthesunjustbeginning to shine over the hilly farmlands of New Jersey, my state!- I amreborn! Free, I find, of shameful secrets! So clean- feeling, so strong andvirtuous-feeling-soAmerican!Mortypullsbackontothehighway,andrightthenandthereI takemyvow,Iswear thatIwilldedicatemylife to therightingofwrongs, to the elevation of the downtrodden and the underprivileged, to theliberationoftheunjustlyimprisoned.WithMortyasmywitness-mymanlyleft-wingnew-foundolderbrother,thelivingproofthatitispossibletolovemankindandbaseballboth(andwholovesmyoldersister,whomIamreadytolovenow,too,fortheescapehatchwithwhichshehasprovidedthetwoofus),whoismylinkthroughtheA.V.C.toBillMauldin,asmuchmyheroasCorwinorHowardFast-toMorty,withtearsoflove(forhim,forme)inmyeyes,Ivowtousethepower of the pen to liberate from injustice and exploitation, from humiliationandpovertyandignorance,thepeopleInowthinkof(givingmyselfgooseflesh)asThePeople.

Iamicywithfear.Ofthegirlandhersyph!ofthefatherandhisfriends!ofthebrotherandhis fists! (even thoughSmolkahas tried togetme tobelievewhatstrikes me as wholly incredible, even for goyim: that both brother and fatherknow,andneithercares,thatBubblesisahoor).Andfear,too,thatbeneaththekitchen window, which I plan to leap out of if I should hear so much as afootsteponthestairway,isanironpicketfenceuponwhichIwillbeimpaled.Ofcourse, the fence I am thinkingof surrounds theCatholicorphanageonLyonsAvenue, but I am by now halfway between hallucination and coma, andsomewhat woozy, as though I've gone too long without food. I see thephotographintheNewarkNews,of thefenceandthedarkpuddleofmybloodon the sidewalk, and the caption from which my family will never recover:INSURANCEMAN'SSONLEAPSTODEATH.

WhileIsitfreezinginmyigloo,Mandelisbastinginhisownperspiration-andsmellsit.ThebodyodorofNegroesfillsmewithcompassion,withprose-poetry-MandelIamlessindulgentof:henauseatesme(asmymothersaysofhim),whichisn'ttosuggestthatheisanylesshypnoticacreaturetomethanSmolkais.SixteenandJewishjustlikeme,butthereallresemblanceends:hewearshishair inaduck'sass,hassideburnsdown tohis jawbone,andsportsone-buttonroll suits and pointy black shoes, andBilly Eckstine collars bigger thanBillyEckstine's! But Jewish. Incredible! A moralistic teacher has leaked to us that

ArnoldMandelhastheI.Q.ofageniusyetprefersinsteadtotakeridesinstolencars, smoke cigarettes, and get sick on bottles of beer. Can you believe it?AJewish boy? He is also a participant in the circle-jerks held with the shadespulleddowninSmolka'slivingroomafterschool,whilebothelderSmolkasareslavingawayinthetailorshop.Ihaveheardthestories,butstill(despitemyownonanism, exhibitionism, and voyeurism- not tomention fetishism) I can't andwon't believe it: four or five guys sit around in a circle on the floor, and atSmolka'ssignal,eachbeginstopulloff-andthefirstonetocomegetsthepot,abuckahead.

Whatpigs.

TheonlyexplanationIhaveforMandel'sbehavior is thathisfatherdiedwhenMandelwasonlyten.Andthisofcourseiswhatmesmerizesmemostofall:aboywithoutafather.

HowdoIaccountforSmolkaandhisdaring?Hehasamotherwhoworks.Mine,remember,patrolsthesixroomsofourapartmentthewayaguerillaarmymovesacrossitsowncountryside-there'snotasingleclosetordrawerofminewhosecontentsshehasn'taphotographicsenseof.Smolka'smother,ontheotherhand,sits all day by a little light in a little chair in the corner of his father's store,taking seams in and out, and by the time she gets home at night, hasn't thestrength togetoutherGeigercounter and start inhunting forher child'shair-raisingcollectionofFrenchticklers.TheSmolkas,youmustunderstand,arenotsorichaswe-andthereinliesthefinaldifference.AmotherwhoworksandnoVenetianblinds...yes,thissufficientlyexplainseverythingtome-howcomeheswimsatOlympicParkaswellaswhyhe isalwaysgrabbingateverybodyelse'sputz.HelivesonHostesscupcakesandhisownwits.Igetahotlunchandalltheinhibitionsthereof.Butdon'tgetmewrong(asthoughthatwerepossible):duringawintersnowstormwhatismorethrilling,whilestampingofftheslushon the back landing at lunchtime, than to hear Aunt Jenny coming over thekitchenradio,andtosmellcreamoftomatosoupheatinguponthestove?Whatbeats freshly laundered and ironed pajamas any season of the year, and abedroomfragrantwithfurniturepolish?HowwouldIlikemyunderwearallgrayandjumbledupinmydrawer,asSmolka'salwaysis?Iwouldn't.HowwouldIlikesockswithouttoesandnobodytobringmehotlemonadeandhoneywhenmythroatissore?

Conversely,howwouldIlikeBubblesGirarditocometomyownhouseinthe

afternoonandblowme,asshedidSmolka,onhisownbed?

...

Ofsomeironicinterest.Lastspring,whomdoIrunintodownonWorthStreet,but the old circle-jerker himself, Mr. Mandel, carrying a sample case full oftrusses, braces, and supports.And do you know?That hewas still living andbreathing absolutely astonished me. I couldn't get over it- I haven't yet. Andmarriedtoo,domesticated,withawiteandtwolittlechildren-andaranchhouseinMaplewood,NewJersey.Mandellives,ownsalengthofgardenhose,hetellsme,andabarbecueandbriquets!Mandel,who,outofaweofPupiCampoandTitoValdez,wentofftoCityHallthedayafterquittinghighschoolandhadhisfirstnameofficiallychangedfromArnoldtoBa-ba-lu.Mandel,whodranksix-packsofbeer!Miraculous.Can'tbe!Howonearthdidithappenthatretributionpassed him by? There hewas, year in and year out, standing in idleness andignorance on the corner of Chancellor and Leslie, perched like some greaserover his bongo drums, his duck's ass bare to the heavens- and nothing andnobodystruckhimdown!Andnowhe is thirty-three, likeme,andasalesmanfor his wife's father, who has a surgical supply house on Market Street inNewark.Andwhataboutme,heasks,whatdoIdoforaliving?Really,doesn'theknow?Isn'theonmyparents'mailinglist?Doesn'teveryoneknowIamnowthe most moral man in all of New York, all pure motives and humane andcompassionateideals?Doesn'theknowthatwhatIdoforalivingisI'mgood?CivilService,Ianswered,pointingacrosstoThirtyWorth.MisterModesty.

Youstillseeanyoftheguys?Ba-ba-luasked.Youmarried?

No,no.

Insidethenewjowls, theoldfurtiveLatin-Americangreasercomesto life.So,uh,whatdoyoudoforpussy?

Ihaveaffairs.Am,andIbeatmymeat.

Mistake,Ithinkinstantly.Mistake!WhatifheblabstotheDailyNews?ASSTHUMANOPPYCOMMISHFLOGSDUMMY,AlsoLivesinSin,ReportsOldSchoolChum.

Theheadlines.Alwaystheheadlinesrevealingmyfilthysecretstoashockedanddisapprovingworld.

Hey,saidBa-ba-lu, rememberRitaGirardi?Bubbles?Whoused tosuckusalloff?

...Whatabouther?Loweryourvoice,Ba-ba-lu!Whatabouther?

Didn'tyoureadintheNews?

--WhatNews?

TheNewarkNews.

Idon'tseetheNewarkpapersanymore.Whathappenedtoher?

Shegotmurdered.InabaronHawthorneAvenue,rightdownfromTheAnnex.Shewaswithsomeboogeyandthensomeotherboogeycameinandshotthembothinthehead.Howdoyoulikethat?Fuckingforboogies.

Wow,Isaid,andmeantit.Thensuddenly-Listen,Ba-ba-lu,whateverhappenedtoSmolka?

Don't know, says Ba-ba-lu. Ain't he a professor? I think I heard he was aprofessor.

Aprofessor?Smolka?

Ithinkheissomekindofcollegeteacher.

Oh,can'tbe,Isaywithmysuperiorsneer.

Yeah.That'swhatsomebodysaid.DownatPrinceton.

Princeton?

But can't belWithout hot tomato soup for lunchon freezing afternoons?Whoslept in thoseputridpajamas?Theownerofall thoseredrubber thimbleswiththeangry littlespikyprojections thathe toldusdrove thegirlsup thewallsofParis?Smolka,who swam in thepool atOlympicPark, he's alive too?And aprofessor at Princeton noch? In what department, classical languages orastrophysics?Ba-ba-lu,yousoundlikemymother.Youmustmeanplumber,orelectrician.BecauseIwillnotbelieveit!Imeandowninmykishkas,inmydeep

emotionsandmyoldbeliefs,downbeneaththemewhoknowsverywellthatofcourse Smolka and Mandel continue to enjoy the ranch houses and theprofessional opportunities available to men on this planet, I simply cannotbelieveinthesurvival,letalonethemiddle-classsuccess,ofthesetwobadboys.Why,they'resupposedtobeinjail-orthegutter.Theydidn'tdotheirhomework,damnit!SmolkausedtocheatoffmeinSpanish,andMandeldidn'tevengiveenoughofashittobothertodothat,andasforwashingtheirhandsbeforeeating...Don'tyouunderstand,thesetwoboysaresupposedtobedead!LikeBubbles.Nowthereatleastisacareerthatmakessomesense.There'sacaseofcauseandeffect that confirms my ideas about human consequence! Bad enough, rottenenough,andyougetyourcock-suckingheadblownoffbyboogies.Nowthat'sthe

waytheworld'ssupposedtoberun!

Smolkacomesbackintothekitchenandtellsusshedoesn'twanttodoit.

Butyousaidweweregoingtogetlaid!criesMandel.

Yousaidweweregoingtogetbiowed!Reamed,steamed,anddry-cleaned,that'swhatyousaid!

Fuckit,Isay,ifshedoesn'twanttodoit,whoneedsher,let'sgo-

ButI'vebeenpoundingoffover thisforaweek!Iain'tgoinganywhere!Whatkindofshitisthis,Smolka?Won'tsheevenbeatmymeat?

Me,withmyrefrain:Ah,look,ifshedoesn'twanttodoit,let'sgo-

Mandel:Who the fuck is she that she won't even give a guy a hand-job? Ameasly hand-job. Is that theworld to ask of her? I ain't leaving till she eithersucksitorpullsit-oneortheother!It'suptoher,thefuckingwhore!

SoSmolkagoesbackinforasecondconference,andreturnsnearlyhalfanhourlaterwiththenewsthatthegirlhaschangedhermind:shewilljerkoffoneguy,butonlywithhispantson,andthat'sall.Weflipacoin-andIwintherighttogetthesyph!Mandelclaimsthecoingrazedtheceiling,andisreadytomurderme-heisstillscreamingfoulplaywhenIenterthelivingroomtoreapmyreward.

Shesitsinhersliponthesofaattheotherendofthelinoleumfloor,weighinga

hundredandseventypoundsandgrowingamustache.AnthonyPeruta,that'smynameforwhensheasks.Butshedoesn't.Look,saysBubbles,let'sgetitstraight-you'retheonlyoneI'mdoingitto.

You,andthat'sit.

It'sentirelyuptoyou,Isaypolitely.

All right, take it out of your pants, but don't take them down. You hear me,becauseItoldhim.I'mnotdoinganythingtoanybody'sballs.

Fine,fine.Whateveryousay.

Anddon'ttrytotouchmeeither.

Look,ifyouwantmeto,I'llgo.

Justtakeitout.

Sure,ifthat'swhatyouwant,here...here,Isay,butprematurely,I-just-have-to-get-it- Where is that thing? In the classroom I sometimes set myselfconsciously to thinking about DEATH and HOSPITALS and HORRIBLEAUTOMOBILEACCIDENTSin thehope that suchgrave thoughtswillcausemyboner'torecedebeforethebellringsandIhavetostand.ItseemsthatIcan'tgouptotheblackboardinschool,ortrytogetoffabus,withoutitsjumpingupandsaying,Hi!Lookatme!toeveryoneinsight-andnowit isnowheretobefound.

Here!Ifinallycry.

Isthatit?

Well,Ianswer,turningcolors,itgetsbiggerwhenitgetsharder...

Well,Iain'tgotallnight,youknow.

Nicely:Oh,Idon'tthinkit'llbeallnight-

Laydown!

Bubbles,notwhollycontent,lowersherselfintoastraightchair,whileIstretch

outbesideheronthesofa-andsuddenlyshehasholdofit,andit'sasthoughmypoorcockhasgotcaughtinsomekindofmachine.Vigorously,toputitmildly,theordealbegins.Butitisliketryingtojerkoffajellyfish.

What'samatter?shefinallysays.Can'tyoucome?

Usually,yes,Ican.

Thenstopholdingitbackonme.

I'mnot.Iamtrying.Bubbles-

Cause I'mgoing to count to fifty, and if youdon't do it by then, that ain'tmyfault.

Fifty?Illbeluckyifitisstillattachedtomybodybyfifty.Takeiteasy,Iwanttoscream.Notsorougharoundtheedges,please!-eleven,twelve,thirteen-andIthink to myself. Thank God, soon it'll be over-hang on, only another fortyseconds to go- but simultaneous with the relief comes, of course, thedisappointment, and it is keen: this only happens to be what I have beendreamingaboutnightanddaysinceIamthirteen.Atlonglast,notacoredapple,notanemptymilkbottlegreasedwithvaseline,butagirlinaslip,withtwotitsandacunt-andamustache,butwhoamItobepicky?ThisiswhatIhavebeenimaginingformyself...

Whichishowitoccurstomewhattodo.IwillforgetthatthefisttearingawayatmebelongstoBubbles-Illpretendit'smyown!So,fixedlyIstareatthedarkceiling,and insteadofmakingbelieve that Iamgetting laid,asIordinarilydowhilejerkingoff,ImakebelievethatIamjerkingoff.

And it begins instantly to take effect.Unfortunately, however, I get just aboutwhereIwanttobewhenBubbles'workdaycomestoanend.

Okay,that'sit,shesays,fifty,andstops!

No!Icry.More!

Look,Ialreadyironedtwohours,youknow,beforeyouguysevengothere-

JUSTONEMORE!IBEGOFYOU!TWOMORE!PLEASE!

N-O!

Whereupon, unable (as always!) to stand the frustration-the deprivation anddisappointment-Ireachdown,Igrabit,andPOW!

Onlyrightinmyeye.Withasinglewhiplikestrokeofthemaster'sownhand,thelather comes rising out ofme. I ask you,who jerksme off aswell as I do itmyself?Only,recliningasIam,thejetleavesmyjointonthehorizontal,ridesbackthelengthofmytorso,andlandswithathickwetburningsplashrightinmyowneye.

Sonofabitchkike!Bubblesscreams.Yougotgissumalloverthecouch!Andthewalls!Andthelamp!

Igotitinmyeye!Anddon'tyousaykiketome,you!

Youareakike,Kike!Yougotitallovereverything,youmockysonofabitch!Lookatthedoilies!

It'sjustasmyparentshavewarnedme-comesthefirstdisagreement,nomatterhowsmall,andtheonlythingashikseknowstocallyouisadirtyJew.Whatanawfuldiscovery-myparentswhoarealwayswrong...areright!Andmyeye-it's as though it's been dropped in fire- and now I rememberwhy.OnDevil'sIsland,Smolka has told us, the guards used to have funwith the prisoners byrubbingsperm in theireyesandmaking themblind. I'mgoing blind!A shiksehastouchedmydickwithherbarehand,andnowI'llbeblindforever!Doctor,my

psyche,it'saboutasdifficulttounderstandasagradeschoolprimer!Whoneedsdreams,Iaskyou?WhoneedsFreud?RoseFranzblauoftheNewYorkPosthasenoughontheballtocomeupwithananalysisofsomebodylikeme!

Sheeny!sheisscreaming.Hebe!Youcan'tevencomeoffunlessyoupullyourownpudding,cheapbastardfairyJew!

Hey, enough is enough,where isher sympathy?Butmyeye! and rush for thekitchen,whereSmolkaandMandelarerollingaroundthewallsinecstasy.-rightin

the-eruptsMandel,andfoldsinhalfontothefloor,beatingatthelinoleumwith

hisfists-rightinthefucking-

Water, you shits. I'm going blind! I'm on fire! and flying full-speed overMandel's body, stick my head beneath the faucet. Above the sink Jesus stillascends in his pink nightie. That useless son of a bitch! I thought he wassupposed to make the Christians compassionate and kind. I thought otherpeople'ssuffering iswhathe told themtofeelsorry for.Whatbullshit! If Igoblind,it'shisfault!Yes,somehowhestrikesmeastheultimatecauseforallthispainandconfusion.AndohGod,asthecoldwaterrunsdownmyface,howamIgoing toexplainmyblindness tomyparents!Mymothervirtuallyspendshalfherlifeupmyassasitis,checkingonthemanufactureofmystool-howamIpossiblygoingtohidethefactthatInolongerhavemysight?Tap,tap,tap,it'sjustme,Mother-thisnicebigdogbroughtmehome,withmycane.Adog?Inmyhouse?Gethimoutofherebeforehemakeseverythingfilthy!Jack,there'sadoginthehouseandIjustwashedthekitchenfloor!But,Momma,he'sheretostay,hehastostay-he'saseeing-eyedog.I'mblind.OhmyGod!Jack!shecallsintothebathroom.Jack,

Alexishomewithadog-he'sgoneblind!Him,blind?myfatherreplies.Howcouldhebeblind,hedoesn'tevenknowwhatitmeanstoturnoffalight.How?screamsmymother.How?Tellushowsuchathing-

Mother,how?Howelse?ConsortingwithChristiangirls.

Mandelthenextdaytellsmethatwithinhalfanhouraftermyfreneticdeparture.Bubbleswasdownonherfuckingdagokneessuckinghiscock.

Thetopofmyheadcomesoff:Shewas?

Rightonherfuckingdagoknees,saysMandel.Schmuck,what'dyougohomefor?

She calledme a kike! I answer self-righteously. I thought I was blind. Look,she'santi-Semitic,Ba-ba-lu.

Yeah,whatdoIgiveashit?saysMandel.ActuallyIdon'tthinkheknowswhatanti-Semiticmeans.AllIknowisIgotlaid,twice.

Youdid?Witharubber?

Fuck,Ididn'tusenothing.

Butshellgetpregnant!Icry,andinanguish,asthoughit'smewhowillbeheldaccountable.

WhatdoIcare?repliesMandel.

Why do I worry then! Why do I alone spend hours testing Trojans in mybasement?WhydoIaloneliveinmortalterrorofthesyph?WhydoIrunhomewithmy little bloodshot eye, imaginingmyself blinded forever, when half anhour later Bubbles will be down eating cock on her knees! Home-to mymommy!TomyTollhousecookieandmyglassofmilk,hometomynicecleanbed!Oy,civilizationanditsdiscontents!Ba-ba-lu,speaktome,talktome,tellmewhat itwas likewhen she did it! I have to know, andwith details- exactdetails!What about her tits?What about her nipples?What about her thighs?Whatdoesshedowithherthighs,Ba-ba-lu,doesshewrapthemaroundyourasslikeinthehotbooks,ordoesshesqueezethemtightaroundyourcocktillyouwant toscream, like inmydreams?Andwhataboutherhairdownthere?Tellmeeverythingthereis to tellaboutpubichairsandthewaytheysmell,Idon'tcareifIhearditallbefore.Anddidshereallykneel,areyoushittingme?Didsheactuallykneelonherknees?Andwhatabouther teeth,wheredo theygo?Anddoesshesuckonit,ordoessheblowonit,orsomehowisitthatshedoesboth?OhGod,Ba-ba-lu,didyoushootinhermouth?OhmyGod!Anddidsheswallowit rightdown,orspit itout,orgetmad-tellme!whatdidshedowithyourhotcome!Didyouwarnheryouweregoingtoshoot,ordidyoujustcomeoffandletherworry?Andwhoputitin-didsheputitinordidyouputitin,ordoes it just getdrawn in by itself?Andwherewere all your clothes?- on thecouch?onthefloor?exactlywhere?Iwantdetails!Details!Actualdetails!Whotookoffherbrassiere,whotookoffherpanties-herpanties-didyou?didshe?Whenshewasdownthereblowing,Ba-ba-lu,didshehaveanythingonatall?Andhowaboutthepillowunderherass,didyoustickapillowunderherasslikeit says todo inmyparents'marriagemanual?Whathappenedwhenyoucameinsideher?Didshecometoo?Mandel,clarifysomethingthatIhavetoknow-dotheycome?Stuff?Ordo they justmoana lot -orwhat?Howdoesshecome!Whatisitlike!BeforeIgooutofmyhead.Ihavetoknowwhatit'slike!

THEMOSTPREVALENTFORMOF

DEGRADATIONINEROTICLIFE

I don't think I've spoken of the disproportionate effect The Monkey'shandwriting used to have upon my psychic equilibrium. What hopelesscalligraphy! It looked like the work of an eight-year-old-it nearly drove mecrazy!Nothing capitalized, nothing punctuated- only those oversized irregularletters of hers slanting downward along the page, then dribbling off. Andprinted,asonthedrawingstherestofususedtocarryhomeinourlittlehandsfrom first grade!And that spelling. A little word like clean comes out threedifferentwaysonthesamesheetofpaper.Youknow,asinMr.Clean?-twooutofthreetimesitbeginswiththeletterk.K!AsinJosephK.Nottomentiondearasinthesalutationofaletter:d-e-r-e.Ord-e-i-r.Andthatveryfirsttime(thisIlove)d-i-r.OntheeveningwearescheduledfordinneratGracieMansion-

D!I!R!Imean,Ijusthavetoaskmyself-whatamIdoinghavinganaffairwithawomannearlythirtyyearsofagewhothinksyouspelldearwiththreeletters!

Already twomonths had passed since the pickup on. Lexington Avenue, andstill,yousee,thesamecurrentsoffeelingcarryingmealong:desire,ontheonehand,deliriousdesire(I'dneverknownsuchabandoninawomaninmylife!),and something close to contempt on the other. Correction. Only a few daysearliertherehadbeenourtriptoVermont,thatweekendwhenithadseemedthatmy wariness of her- the apprehension aroused by the model-y glamour, thebrutishorigins,aboveeverything, thesexualrecklessness- thatall thisfearanddistrusthadbeendisplacedbyawildupwardsurgeoftendernessandaffection.

Now, I am under the influence at themoment of an essay entitled TheMostPrevalentFormofDegradationinEroticLife;asyoumayhaveguessed,Ihavebought a set of theCollectedPapers, and sincemy return fromEurope, havebeen putting myself to sleep each night in the solitary confinement of mywomanlessbedwithavolumeofFreudinmyhand.SometimesFreudinhand,sometimesAlexinhand,frequentlyboth.Yes,thereinmyunbuttonedpajamas,allalone,Ilie,fiddlingwithitlikealittleboy-childinadopeyreverie,tuggingon it, twisting it, rubbing and kneading it, andmeanwhile reading spellboundthroughContributionstothePsychologyofLove,everheedfulofthesentence,thephrase,thewordthatwillliberatemefromwhatIunderstandarecalledmyfantasiesandfixations.

In the Degradation essay there is that phrase, currents of feeling. For a fullynormalattitudeinlove(deservingofsemanticscrutiny,thatfullynormal,buttogo on- ) for a fully normal attitude in love, says he, it is necessary that two

currentsoffeelingbeunited:thetender,affectionatefeelings,andthesensuousfeelings.Andinmanyinstancesthisjustdoesn'thappen,sadtosay.Wheresuchmenlovetheyhavenodesire,andwheretheydesiretheycannotlove.

Question:AmItoconsidermyselfoneofthefragmentedmultitude?Inlanguageplain and simple, are Alexander Portnoy's sensual feelings fixated to hisincestuousfantasies?Whatdoyouthink,Doc?Hasarestrictionsopatheticbeenlaiduponmyobjectchoice?Isittruethatonlyifthesexualobjectfulfillsformetheconditionofbeingdegraded,thatsensualfeelingcanhavefreeplay?Listen,doesthatexplainthepreoccupationwithshikses?

Yes,butifso,ifso,howthenexplainthatweekendinVermont?Becausedownwent the dam of the incest- barrier, or so it seemed. And swoosh, there wassensualfeelingminglingwiththepurest,deepeststreamsoftendernessI'veeverknown!I'mtellingyou,theconfluenceofthetwocurrentswasterrific!Andinheraswell!Sheevensaidasmuch!

Orwas itonly thecolorful leaves,doyou think, the fireburning in thediningroomoftheinnatWoodstock,thatsoftenedupthetwoofus?Wasittendernessforoneanotherthatweexperienced,orjustthefalldoingitswork,swellingthegourd(JohnKeats)andlatheringthetouristtradeintoecstasiesofnostalgiaforthe good and simple life? Were we just two more rootless jungle-dwellingerotomaniacscreamingintheirpre-fadedjeansoverHistoricaldreamingtheoldagararian dream in their rent-a-car convertible-or is a fully normal attitude inlove thepossibility that it seemed formeduring those fewsunnydays I spentwithTheMonkeyinVermont?

What exactly transpired?Well,we drovemostly.And looked: the valleys, themountains, the lighton the fields;and the leavesofcourse,a lotofooingandahhing. Once we stopped to watch somebody in the distance, high up on aladder,hammeringawayatthesideofabarn-andthatwasfun,too.Oh,andtherentedcar.WeflewtoRutlandandrentedaconvertible.Aconvertible,canyouimagine? A third of a century as an American boy, and this was the firstconvertible I had ever driven myself. Know why? Because the son of aninsuranceman knows better than others the chance you take riding around insuchamachine.Heknowstheawfulactuarialdetails!Allyouhavetodoishitabump in the road, and that's it,where a convertible is concerned: up from theseat you go flying (and not to be too graphic), out onto the highway craniumfirst,andifyou'relucky,it'sawheelchairforlife.Andturnoverinaconvertible-

well,youcanjustkissyourlifegoodbye.Andthisisstatistics(Iamtoldbymyfather),notsomecockamaimystoryheismakingupforthefunofit.Insurancecompaniesaren'tinbusinesstolosemoney-whentheysaysomething,Alex,it'strue!Andnow,ontheheelsofmywisefather,mywisemother:Please,soIcansleepatnightforfouryears,promisemeonething,grantyourmotherthisonewish and then she'll never ask anything of you again:when you get toOhio,promiseyouwon'trideinanopenconvertible.SoIcanshutmyeyesinbedatnight,Alex,promiseyouwon't takeyour life inyourhands inanycrazyway.Myfatheragain:Becauseyoureaplum,Alex!hesays,baffledandtearfulovermyimminentdeparturefromhome.Andwedon'twantaplumtofalloffthetreebeforeit'sripe!

1.Promise,Plum,thatyou'llneverrideinaconvertible.Suchasmallthing,whatwillithurtyoutopromise?

2. You'll look up Howard Sugannan, Sylvia's nephew. A lovely boy- andpresidentoftheHillel.He'llshowyouaround.Pleaselookhimup.

3. Plum,Darling, Light of theWorld, you remember your cousinHeshie, thetorturehegavehimselfandhisfamilywiththatgirl.WhatUncleHymiehadtogothrough, tosavethatboyfromhiscraziness.Youremember?Please,dowehave to say anymore? Ismymeaning clear, Alex?Don't give yourself awaycheap.Don't throwabrilliantfutureawayonanabsolutenothing.Idon't thinkwehavetosayanythingmore.Dowe?You'reababyyet,sixteenyearsoldandgraduatinghighschool.That'sababy,Alex.Youdon'tknowthehatredthereisintheworld.SoIdon'tthinkwehavetosayanymore,nottoaboyassmartasyou. ONLY YOU MUST BE CAREFULWITH YOUR LIFE! YOU MUSTNOTPLUNGEYOURSELF INTOALIVINGHELL!YOUMUSTLISTENTOWHATWEARESAYINGANDWITHOUTTHESCOWL,THANKYOU,ANDTHEBRILLIANTBACKTALK!WEKNOW!WEHAVELIVED!WEHAVE SEEN! IT DOESN'T WORK, MY SON! THEY ARE ANOTHERBREEDOFHUMANBEINGENTIRELY!YOUWILLBETORNASUNDER!GO TO HOWARD. HE'LL INTRODUCE YOU AT THE HILLEL! DON'TRUNFIRSTTHINGTOABLONDIE, PLEASE!BECAUSESHE'LLTAKEYOUFORALLYOU'REWORTHANDTHENLEAVEYOUBLEEDINGINTHEGUTTER!ABRILLIANTINNOCENTBABYBOYLIKEYOU,SHE'LLEATYOUUPALIVE!

She'lleatmeupalive?

Ah,butwehaveourrevenge,webrilliantbabyboys,usplums.Youknowthejoke, of course-Milty, the G.I., telephones from Japan. Momma, he says, it'sMilton, I have good news! I found a wonderful Japanese girl and we weremarriedtoday.AssoonasIgetmydischargeIwanttobringherhome,Momma,for you to meet each other. So, says the mother, bring her, of course. Oh,wonderful,Momma,saysMilty,wonderful-onlyIwaswondering,inyourlittleapartment,wherewillmeandMingToysleep?Where?saysthemother.Why,inthebed?Whereelseshouldyousleepwithyourbride?Butthenwherewillyousleep,ifwesleepinthebed?Momma,,areyousurethere'sroom?Miltydarling,please, says themother, everything is fine, don't youworry, there'll be all theroomyouwant:assoonasIhangup.I'mkillingmyself.

Whataninnocent,ourMilty!HowstunnedhemustbeoverthereinYokohamatohearhismothercomeupwithsuchastatement!Sweet,passiveMilton,youwouldn'thurtafly,wouldyou,tateleh?Youhatebloodshed,youwouldn'tdreamofstrikinganotherperson,letalonecommittingamurderonhim.Soyouletthegeishagirldoitforyou!Smart,Milty,smart!Fromthegeishagirl,believeme,shewon't recoverso fast.Fromthegeishagirl,Milty, she'llplotz!Haha!Youdidit,Miltaleh,andwithoutevenliftingafinger!Ofcourse!Let theshiksedothe killing for you! You, you're just an innocent bystander! Caught in thecrossfire!Avictim,right,Milt?

Lovely,isn'tit,thebusinessofthebed?

WhenwearriveattheinninDorset,Iremindhertosliponeofherhalf-dozenringsontotheappropriatefinger.Inpubliclifeonemustbediscreet,Isay,andtellherthatIhavereservedaroominthenameofMr.andMrs.ArnoldMandel.AherooutofNewark'spast,Iexplain.

While I register,TheMonkey (looking inNewEnglanderotic in theextreme)roamsaroundthelobbyexaminingthelittleVermontgiftiesforsale.Arnold,shecalls.Iturn:Yes,dear.WesimplymusttakebackwithussomemaplesyrupforMotherMandel. She loves it so, and smiles hermysteriously enticing SundayTimesunderwear-adsmileatthesuspiciousclerk.

Whatanight! Idon'tmeantherewasmore than theusualbody- thrashingandhair-tossingandempassionedvocalizingfromTheMonkey-no,thedramawasatthesameWagnerianpitchIwasbeginningtobecomeaccustomedto:itwastheflow of feeling that was new and terrific. Oh, I can't get enough of you! she

cried.AmIanymphomaniac,orisittheweddingring?Iwasthinkingmaybeitwastheillicitnessofan'inn.'Oh,it'ssomething!Ifeel,Ifeelsocrazy...andsotender-sowildlytenderwithyou!Ohbaby.IkeepthinkingI'mgoingtocry.andI'msohappy!

Saturday we drove up to Lake Champlain, stopping along the way for TheMonkeytotakepictureswithherMinox;lateinthedaywecutacrossanddowntoWoodstock,gaping,exclaiming,sighing.TheMonkeysnuggling.Onceinthemorning(inanovergrownfieldnearthelakeshore)wehadsexualcongress,andthen that afternoon, on a dirt road somewhere in the mountains of centralVermont,shesaid,Oh,Alex,pullover,now-Iwantyoutocomeinmymouth,andsosheblewme,andwiththetopdown!

Whatam I trying tocommunicate? Just thatwebegan to feel something.Feelfeeling!Andwithoutanydiminishingofsexualappetite!

Iknowapoem,Isaid,speakingsomewhatasthoughIweredrunk,asthoughIcouldlickanymaninthehouse,andI'mgoingtoreciteit.

She was nestled down in my lap, eyes still closed, my softening member upagainsthercheeklikealittlechick.Ahcomeon,shegroaned,notnow,Idon'tunderstandpoems.

You'llunderstandthisone.It'saboutfucking.Aswanfucksabeautifulgirl.

Shelookedup,battingherfalseeyelashes.Oh,goody.

Butit'saseriouspoem.

Well,shesaid,lickingmyprick,it'saseriousoffense.

Oh,irresistible,wittySouthernbelles-especiallywhenthey'relongthewayyouare.

Don'tbullshitme,Portnoy.Recitethedirtypoem.

Porte-noir,Isaid,andbegan:

Asuddenblow:thegreatwingsbeatingstill

Abovethestaggeringgirl,herthighscaressed

Bythedarkwebs,hernapecaughtinhisbill,

Heholdsherhelplessbreastuponhisbreast.

Where,sheasked,didyoulearnsomethinglikethat?

Shhh.There'smore:

Howcanthoseterrifiedvaguefingerspush

Thefeatheredgloryfromherlooseningthighs?

Hey!shecried.Thighs!

Andhowcanbody,laidinthatwhiterush,

Butfeelthestrangeheartbeatingwhereitlies?

Ashudderintheloinsengendersthere

Thebrokenwall,theburningroofandtower

AndAgamemnondead.

Beingsocaughtup,

Somasteredbythebrutebloodoftheair,

Didsheputonhisknowledgewithhispower

Beforetheindifferentbeakcouldletherdrop?

That'sit,Isaid.

Pause.Whowroteit?Snide.You?

WilliamButlerYeatswroteit,Isaid,realizinghowtactlessIhadbeen,withwhatinsensitivityIhaddrawnattentiontothechasm:Iamsmartandyouaredumb,that'swhatithadmeanttorecitetothiswomanoneofthethreepoemsIhappen

tohavelearnedbyheartinmythirty-threeyears.AnIrishpoet,Isaidlamely.

Yeah?shesaid.Andwheredidyoulearnit,athisknee?Ididn'tknowyouwasIrish.

Incollege,baby.FromagirlIknewincollege.AlsotaughtmeTheForceThatThrough the Green Fuse Drives the Flower. But enough-why compare her toanother?Whynotletherbewhatsheis?Whatanidea!Loveherassheis!Inallherimperfection-whichis,afterall,maybeonlyhuman!

Well, said The Monkey, still playing Truck Driver, I never been to collegemyself.Then,DopeySouthern,AnddownhomeinMoundsville,honey,theonlypoemwe hadwas 'I seeLondon, I see France, I seeMary Jane's underpants.''CeptIdidn'twearnounderpants...KnowwhatIdidwhenIwasfifteen?Sentalockofmysnatch-hairoffinanenvelopetoMarionBrando.Prickdidn'tevenhavethecourtesytoacknowledgereceipt.

Silence.While we try to figure out what two such unlikely people are doingtogether-inVermontyet.

Thenshesays,Okay,what'sAgamemnon?

SoIexplain,tothebestofmyability.Zeus,Agamemnon,Clytemnestra,Helen,Paris,Troy . . .Oh, I feel likea shit-anda fake.Halfof it IknowI'mgettingwrong.

Butshe'smarvelous.Okay-nowsayitallagain.

Youserious?

I'mserious!Again!But,forChrist'ssake,slow.

So I recite again, and all this time my trousers are still down around thefloorboard,andit'sgrowingdarkeronthepathwhereIhaveparkedoutofsightoftheroad,beneaththedramaticfoliage.Theleaves,infact,arefallingintothecar.TheMonkeylookslikeachildtryingtomasteramultiplicationproblem,butnotadumbchild-no,aquickandcleverlittlegirl!Notstupidatall!Thisgirlisreallyveryspecial.EvenifIdidpickherupinthestreet!

When I finish, you knowwhat she does? Takes hold of my hand, draws my

fingersupbetweenherlegs.WhereMaryJanestillwearsnounderpants.Feel.Itmademypussyallwet.

Sweetheart!Youunderstoodthepoem!

IsposeIdeed!criesScarlettO'Hara.Then,Hey,Idid!Iunderstoodapoem!

Andwithyourcunt,noless.

My Breakthrough-baby! You're turning this twat into a genius! Oh, Breakie,darling,eatme,shecries,thrustingahandfuloffingersintomymouth-andshepullsmedownuponherbymylowerjaw,crying,Oh,eatmyeducatedcunt!

Idyllic,no?Undertheredandyellowleaveslikethat?

In the room atWoodstock, while I shave for dinner, she soaks herself in hotwaterandSardo.Whatstrengthshehasstoredinthatslenderframe-thegloriousacrobaticsshecanperformwhiledanglingfromtheendofmydork!You'dthinkshe'dsnapavertebra,hanginghalfhertorsobackwardoverthesideofthebed-inecstasy! Yi! ThankGod for that gym class she goes to!What screwing I amgetting!Whatadeal!Andyetitturnsoutthatsheisalsoahumanbeing-yes,shegiveseveryindicationthatthismaybeso!Ahumanbeing!Whocanbeloved!

Butbyme?

Whynot?

Really?

Whynot!

Youknowsomething,shesaystomefromthetub,mylittlehole'ssosoreitcanhardlybreathe.

Poorhole.

Hey,let'seatabigdinner,alotofwineandchocolatemousse,andthencomeuphere,andgetintoourtwo-hundred-year-oldbed-andnotscrew!

Howyoudoin'.Arn?sheaskedlater,whenthelightswereout.Thisisfun,isn't

it?It'slikebeingeighty.

Oreight,Isaid.IgotsomethingIwanttoshowyou.

No.Arnold,no.

DuringthenightIawakened,anddrewhertowardme.

Please,shemoaned,I'msavingmyselfformyhusband.

Thatdoesn'tmeanshittoaswan,lady.

Ohplease,please,dofuckoff-

Feelmyfeather.

Ahhh,shegasped,asIstuffeditinherhand.AJew-swan!Hey!shecried,andgrabbedatmynosewiththeotherhand.Theindifferentbeak!Ijustunderstoodmorepoem!...Didn'tI?

Christ,youareamarvelousgirl!

Thattookherbreathaway.Oh,amI?

Yes!

AmI?

Yes!Yes!Yes!NowcanIfuckyou?

Oh,sweetheart,darling,criedTheMonkey,pickahole,anyhole.I'myours!

AfterbreakfastwewalkedaroundWoodstockwithTheMonkey'spaintedcheekgluedtothearmofmyjacket.Youknowsomething,shesaid,Idon'tthinkIhateyouanymore.

Westarted forhome late in theafternoon,drivingall theway toNewYorksothattheweekendwouldlastlonger.Onlyanhourintothetrip,shefoundWABCandbegantomoveinherseattotherockmusic.Thenallatonceshesaid,Ah,fuckthatnoise,andswitchedtheradiooff.

Wouldn'titbenice,shesaid,nottohavetogoback?

Wouldn't it be nice someday to live in the countrywith somebody you reallyliked?

Wouldn't itbenice just togetupall fullofenergywhen itgot lightandgo tosleepdog-tiredwhenitgotdark?

Wouldn'titbenicetohavealotofresponsibilitiesandjustgoarounddoingthemalldayandnotevenrealizetheywereresponsibilities?

Wouldn'titbenicetojustnotthinkaboutyourselfforwholedays,wholeweeks,wholemonthsatastretch?Towearoldclothesandnomake-upandnothavetocomeontoughallthetime?

Timepassed.Shewhistled.Wouldn'tthatbesomething?

Whatnow?

Tobegrown-up.Youknow?

Amazing,Isaid.

Whatis?

Almost three days, and I haven't heard the hillbilly routine, the Betty-Boop-dumb-cuntroutine,theteeny-bopperbit-

Iwasextendingacompliment,shegot insulted.They'renot 'bits,'man, they'renotroutines-they'reme!AndifhowIactisn'tgoodenoughforyou,thentoughtittie.Commissioner.Don'tputmedown,okay, justbecausewe'renearing thatfuckingcitywhereyou'resoimportant.

Iwasonlysayingyou'resmarterthanyouletonwhenyouactlikeabroad,that'sall.

Bullshit.It'sjustpracticallyhumanlyimpossibleforanybodytobeasstupidasyou think I am!Here she leaned forward to flip onTheGoodGuys.And theweekendmight aswell not have happened. She knew all thewords to all thesongs.Shewas sure to letmeknow that.Yeahyeahyeah, yeahyeahyeah.A

remarkableperformance,atributetothecerebellum.

AtdarkIpulledintoaHowardJohnson's.Likelet'seat,Isaid.Likefood.Likenourishment,man.

Look, she said,maybe I don't knowwhat I am,but youdon't knowwhat youwantmetobe,either!Anddon'tforgetthat!

Groovy,man.

Prick!Don'tyouseewhatmylifeis?YouthinkIlikebeingnobody?YouthinkI'mcrazyaboutmyhollowlife?Ihateit!IhateNewYork!Idon'teverwanttogobacktothatsewer!IwanttoliveinVermont,Commissioner!IwanttoliveinVermontwithyou-andbeanadult,whatever thehell that is!Iwant tobeMrs.Somebody-I-Can-Look-Up-To. AndAdmire!AndListenTo!Shewas crying.Someonewhowon't try to fuck-upmy head! Oh, I think I love you, Alex. IreallythinkIdo.Oh,butalotofgoodthat'sgoingtodome!

In otherwords:Did I thinkmaybe I loved her?Answer: No.What I thought(this'llamuseyou),whatIthoughtwasn'tDoIloveher?orevenCouldIloveher?Rather:ShouldIloveher?

InsidetherestaurantthebestIcoulddowassaythatIwantedhertocomewithmetotheMayor'sformaldinnerparty.

Arnold,let'shaveanaffair,okay?

-Meaning?

Oh,don'tbecautious.Meaningwhatdoyouthink?Anaffair.YoubangjustmeandIbangjustyou.

Andthat'sit?

Well,sure,mostly.AndalsoItelephonealotduringtheday.It'sahang-up-can'tIsay'hang-up'either?Okay-it'sacompulsion.Okay?AllImeanislikeIcan'thelp it. ImeanI'mgoingtocallyourofficea lot.BecauseI likeeverybody toknow I belong to somebody. That's what I've learned from the fifty thousanddollarsI'vehandedovertothatshrink.AllImeaniswheneverIgettoajob,Ilikecallyouup-andsayIloveyou.Isthiscoherent?

Sure.

Becausethat'swhatIreallywanttobe:socoherent.

Oh, Breakie, I adore you. Now, anyway. Hey, she whispered, want to smellsomething-somethingstaggering?Shecheckedtoseeifthewaitresswasinthevicinity,then

leanedforward,asthoughtoreachbeneaththetabletostraightenastocking.Amomentlatershepassedherfingertipsovertome.Ipressedthemtomymouth.MySin,baby,saidTheMonkey,straightfromthepicklebarrel...andforyou!Onlyyou!

Sogoahead,loveher!Bebrave!Hereisfantasybeggingyoutomakeitreal!Soerotic! So wanton! So gorgeous! Glittery perhaps, but a beauty nonetheless!Where we walk together, people stare, men covet and women whisper. In arestaurantintownonenight,Ioverhearsomeonesay,Isn'tthatwhat's-her-name?WhowasinLaDolceVita?AndwhenIturntolook-forwhom,AnoukAimee?-Ifindtheyarelookingatus:atherwhoiswithme!Vanity?Whynot!Leaveoffwiththeblushing,burytheshame,youarenolongeryourmother'snaughtylittleboy!Whereappetiteisconcerned,amaninhisthirtiesisresponsibletonoonebut himself! That's what's so nice about growing up! You want to take? Youtake! Debauch a little bit, for Christ's sake! STOPDENYINGYOURSELF!STOPDENYINGTHETRUTH!

Ah,butthereis(letusbowourheads),thereismydignitytoconsider,mygoodname.Whatpeoplewillthink.WhatIwillthink.Doctor,thisgirloncediditformoney.Money!Yes!Ibelievetheycall thatprostitution! Onenight, topraiseher (I imagined, at any rate, that that was my motive), I said, You ought tomarket this, it's toomuch for oneman, just being chivalrous, you see . . . orintuitive? Anyway, she answers, I have. I wouldn't let her alone until sheexplainedwhatshe'dmeant;atfirstsheclaimedshewasonlybeingclever,butinthe face of my cross-examination she finally came up with this story, whichstruckmeasthetruth,oraportionthereof.JustafterParisandherdivorce,shehadbeenflownout toHollywood(shesays) tobe testedforapart inamovie(whichshedidn'tget.Ipressedforthenameofthemovie,butsheclaimstohaveforgotten, says it was never made ). On the way back to New York fromCalifornia,sheand thegirlshewaswith(Who's thisothergirl?Agirl.Agirlfriend.Whywereyoutravelingwithanothergirl?Ijustwas!),sheandthisother

girlstoppedofftoseeLasVegas.Thereshewenttobedwithsomeguythatshemet, perfectly innocently shemaintains; however, to her complete surprise, inthemorning he asked, Howmuch? She says it just came out of hermouth-Whateverit'sworth,Sport.Soheofferedherthreehundred-dollarbills.Andyoutookit?Iasked.Iwastwentyyearsold.Sure,Itookit.Toseewhatitfeltlike,that's all.Andwhat did it feel like,Mary Jane? I don't remember.Nothing. Itdidn'tfeellikeanything.

Well,whatdoyouthink?Sheclaimsitonlyhappenedthatonce,tenyearsago,and even then only came about through some accidental joining of hismisunderstanding with her whimsy. But do you buy that? Should I? Is itimpossibletobelievethatthisgirlmayhaveputinsometimeasahigh-pricedcall girl? Oh Jesus! Take her, I think to myself, and I am no higher in theevolutionaryscalethanthemobstersandmillionaireswhochoosetheirwomenfromthelineattheCopa.ThisisthekindofgirlordinarilyseenhangingfromthearmofaMafiosaoramoviestar,not the1950valedictorianofWeequahicHigh!NottheeditoroftheColumbiaLawReview!Notthehigh-mindedcivil-libertarian! Let's face it, whore or nowhore, this is a clear-cut tootsie, right?Wholooksatherwithmeknowspreciselywhat Iamafter in this life.This iswhatmyfatherusedtocallachippy.Ofcourse!AndcanIbringhomeachippy.Doctor?Momma,Poppa, this ismywife, the chippy. Isn't she awildpieceofass?Takeherfullyformyown,yousee,andthewholeneighborhoodwillknowatlastthetruthaboutmydirtylittlemind.Theso-calledgeniuswillberevealedinallhispiggishproclivitiesandfeelthydesires.Thebathroomdoorwillswingopen (unlocked!), and behold, there sits the savior ofmankind, drool runningdownhischin,absolutelygaa-gaaintheeyes,andhisprickfiringsalvosatthelightbulb!Alaughingstock,atlast!Abadboy!Ashandetohisfamilyforever!Yes,yes,Iseeitall:formyabominationsIawakeonemorningtofindmyselfchained to a toilet in Hell, me and the other chippy-mongers of the world-Shtarkes,theDevilwillsay,asweareissuedourfreshwhite-on-whiteshirts,ourSulkaties,aswearefittedinourniftynewsilksuits,gantzek'nockers,bigshotswithyourlong-leggedwomen.Welcome.Youreallyaccomplishedalotinlife,youfellows.Youreallydistinguishedyourselves,allright.Andyouinparticular,hesays,liftingasardoniceyebrowinmydirection,whoenteredthehighschoolat the age of twelve, who was an ambassador to the world from the JewishcommunityofNewark-Ah-hah,Iknewit.It'snoDevilinthepropersense,it'sFat Warshaw, the Reb. My stout and pompous spiritual leader! He of thesumptuous enunciation and the Pall Mall breath! Rabbi Re-ver-ed! It is theoccasion ofmy barmitzvah, and I stand shyly at his side, sopping it up like

gravy,gettingquitea littlekickoutofbeingsanctified, I'll tellyou.AlexanderPortnoy-thisandAlexanderPortnoy-that,andtotellyoutheabsolutetruth,thathetalksinsyllables,andturnslittlewordsintobigones,andbigonesintowholesentencesbythemselves,tobefrank,itdoesn'tseemtobothermeasmuchasitwouldordinarily.Oh,thesunnySaturdaymorningmeandersslowlyalongashelists my virtues and accomplishments to the assembled relatives and friends,syllable by syllable. Lay it on them, Warshaw, blow my horn, don't hurryyourselfonmyaccount,please.I'myoung,Icanstandhereallday,ifthat'swhathas to be. . . . devoted son, loving brother, fantastic honor student, avidnewspaperreader(uponeverycurrentevent,knowsthefullnamesofeachandevery Supreme Court justice and Cabinet member, also the minority andmajorityleadersofbothHousesofCongress,alsothechairmenoftheimportantCongressionalcommittees),enteredWeequahicHighSchoolthisboyattheageoftwelve,anI.Q.onhimof158,onehunder-edand-afif-a-tyeight-a,andnow,he tells the awed and beaming multitude, whose adoration I feel palpitatingupwardandenvelopingmethereonthealtar-why,Iwouldn'tbeatallsurprisedifwhenhe'sfinishedtheydon'tpickmeupandcarrymearoundthesynagoguelike the Torah itself, bear me gravely up and down the aisles while thecongregantsstruggletotouchtheirlipstosomepartofmynewblueOhrbach'ssuit, while the old men press forward to touch their tallises to my sparklingLondonCharactershoes.Letmethrough!Letmetouch!andwhenIamworld-renowned, they will say to their grandchildren, Yes, I was there, I was inattendance at the bar mitzvah of Chief Justice Portnoy- an ambassador, saysRabbiWarshaw,nowourambassadorextraordinary-Onlythetunehaschanged!Andhow!Now,hesays tome,with thementalityofapimp!With thehumanvaluesofarace-horsejockey!Whatistohimtheheightsofhumanexperience?Walkingintoarestaurantwithalong-leggedkurvehonhisarm!Aneasylayinabodystocking!Oh,please,Re-ver-ed.I'mabigboynow-soyoucanknockofftherabbinicalrighteousness.It turnsout tobealittle laughableat thisstageofthegame.Ihappenedtopreferbeautifulandsexytouglyandicy,sowhat'sthetragedy?WhydressmeuplikeaLasVegashood?Whychainmetoatoiletbowlforeternity?Forlovingasaucygirl?Loving?You?Too-eyonyou!Self-loving,boychick, that's how I spell it! With a capital self! Your heart is an emptyrefrigerator!Yourbloodflowsincubes!I'msurprisedyoudon'tclinkwhenyouwalk!Thesaucygirl,so-called-I'llbetsaucy!-wasabigfatfeatherinyourprick,andthataloneishertotalmeaning,AlexanderPortnoy!Whatyoudidwithyourpromise!Disgusting!Love?Spelledl-u-s-t!Spelleds-e-l-f!ButIfeltstirrings,inHowardJohnson's-Intheprick!Sure!No!Yes!That'stheonlypartyoueverfeltastirringinyourlife!Youwhiner!Youbigbundlefullofresentments!Why,you

have been stuck on yourself since the first grade, forChrist's sake!Havenot!Have!Have!Thisisthebottomtruth,friend!Sufferingmankinddon'tmeanshittoyou!That'sablind,buddy,anddon'tyoukidyourselfotherwise!Look,youcall out to your brethren, lookwhat I'm stickingmy dicky into-lookwho I'mfucking:afifty-footfashionmodel!Igetfreewhatotherspayupwardsofthreehundreddollars for!Ohboy,ain't that ahuman triumph,hub?Don't think thatthreehundredbucksdon'ttitillateyouplenty-causeitdoes!Onlyhowaboutlookwhat I'm loving, Portnoy! Please, don't you read theNewYorkTimes? I havespentmywhole life protecting the rights of the defenseless! Five years IwaswiththeACLU,fightingthegoodfightforpracticallynothing.AndbeforethataCongressional committee! I could make twice, three times the money in apracticeofmyown,but Idon't! Idon't!NowIhavebeenappointed-don'tyouread the papers!- I am now Assistant Commissioner of Human Opportunity!Preparingaspecialreportonbiasinthebuildingtrades-Bullshit.Commissionerof Cunt, that's who you are! Commissioner of HumanOpportunists! Uh, youJerk-offartist!Youcaseofarresteddevelopment!Allisvanity,Portnoy,butyoureally takethecake!Ahundredandfifty-eightpointsofI.Q.andallof it rightdownthedrain!Alotofgooditdidtoskipthosetwogradesofgrammarschool,you dummy! What? And spending-money your father sent yet to AntiochCollege-thatthemancouldhardlyafford!Allthefaultscomefromtheparents,right,Alex?What'swrong,theydid-whatsgood,youaccomplishedallonyourown!Youignoramus!Youiceboxheart!Whyareyouchainedtoatoilet?Illtellyouwhy:poeticjustice!Soyoucanpullyourpetertilltheendoftime!Jerkyourprecious littledum-dumad infinitum!Goahead,pulloff,Commissioner, that'sallyoueverreallygaveyourhearttoanyway-yourstinkingputz!

I arrive inmy tuxedowhile she is still in the shower. The door has been leftunlocked,apparentlysothatIcancomerightinwithoutdisturbingher.ShelivesonthetopfloorofabigmodernbuildingintheEastEighties,anditirritatesmetothinkthatanybodywhohappenedthroughthecorridorcouldwalkinjustasIhave.Iwarnherofthisthroughtheshowercurtain.Shetouchesmycheekwithher small wet face. Why would anyone want to do that? she says. All mymoney'sinthebank.

That'snotasatisfactoryreply,Ianswer,andretreattothelivingroom,tryingnottobevexed.Inoticetheslipofpaperonthecoffeetable.Hasachildbeenhere,Iwonder.No,no,IamjustfacetofacewithmyfirstspecimenofTheMonkey'shandwriting.Anotetothecleaninglady.ThoughatfirstglanceIimagineitmustbeanotefromthecleaninglady.

Must?Whymust?Becauseshe'smine?

dirwillapolishtheflorbybathrumplezedont

furgettheinsiesofwindosemaryjaner

ThreetimesIreadthesentencethrough,andashappenswithcertaintexts,eachreadingrevealsnewsubtletiesofmeaningandimplication,eachreadingaugurstribulationsyet tobevisiteduponmyass.Whyallow this affair togatheranymore momentum? What was I thinking about in Vermont! Oh that z, that zbetweenthetwoe'sof'pleze-thisisamindwiththedepthsofamoviemarquee!And furget ! Exactly how a prostitute would misspell that word! But it'ssomething about the mangling of dear, that tender syllable of affection nowcollapsed into three lower-case letters, that strikes me as hopelessly pathetic.How unnatural can a relationship be! Thiswoman is ineducable and beyondreclamation.Bycontrast tohers,mychildhood tookplace inBrahminBoston.Whatkindofbusinesscan the twoofushave together?Monkeybusiness!Nobusiness!

The phone calls, for instance, I cannot tolerate those phone calls!Charminglygirlishshewaswhenshewarnedmeabouttelephoningallthetime-butsurprise,shemeant it! I am inmy office, the indigent parents of a psychotic child areexplainingtomethattheiroffspringisbeingsystematicallystarvedtodeathinacityhospital.Theyhavecome tousbearing theircomplaint, rather than to theDepartmentofHospitals,becauseabrilliantlawyerintheBronxhastoldthemthattheirchildisobviouslythevictimofdiscrimination.WhatIcangatherfromacalltothechiefpsychiatristatthehospitalisthatthechildrefusestoingestanyfood-takesitandholdsitinhismouthforhours,butrefusestoswallow.Ihavethentotellthesepeoplethatneithertheirchildnortheyarebeingvictimizedinthewayorforthereasontheybelieve.Myanswerstrikesthemasduplicitous.Itstrikesmeasduplicitous.Ithinktomyself,He'dswallowthatfoodifhehadmymother, andmeanwhileexpress sympathy for theirpredicament.Butnow theyrefuse to leavemy office until they see theMayor, as earlier they refused toleavethesocialworker'sofficeuntiltheyhadseentheCommissioner.Thefathersaysthathewillhavemefired,alongwithalltheothersresponsibleforstarvingtodeathadefenselesslittlechildjustbecauseheisaPuertoRican!Escontrarioalaleydiscriminarcontracualquierpersona-readingtomeoutofthebilingualCCHOhandbook-thatIwrote!Atwhichpointthephonerings.ThePuertoRicanis shouting atme in Spanish,mymother iswaving a knife atme back inmy

childhood,andmysecretaryannounces thatMissReedwould like to speak tomeonthetelephone.Forthethirdtimethatday.

Imissyou,Arnold,TheMonkeywhispers.

I'mafraidI'mbusyrightnow.

Idodoloveyou.

Yes,fine,mayIspeakwithyoulateraboutthis?

HowIwantthatlongsleekcockinsideme-

Byenow!

What else iswrongwith her,whilewe're at it? Shemoves her lipswhen shereads.Petty?Youthinkso?Eversitacrossthedinnertablefromawomanwithwhom you are supposedly having an affair-a twenty-nine-year-old person-andwatchherlipsmovewhileshelooksdownthemoviepageforapicturethetwoofyoucansee?Iknowwhat'splayingbeforesheeventellsme-fromreadingthelips!AndthebooksIbringher,shecarriesthemaroundfromjobtojobinhertote bag-to read? No! So as to impress some fairy photographer, to impresspassers-byinthestreet,strangers,withhermany-sidedcharacter!Lookat thatgirlwiththatsmashingass-carryingabook!Withrealwordsinit!ThedayafterourreturnfromVermont,IboughtacopyofLetUsNowPraiseFamousMen-wroteonacard,Tothestaggeringgirl,andhaditgift-wrappedforpresentationthat night. Tellme books to read, okay? -this the touching plea shemade thenightwereturnedtothecity:BecausewhyshouldIbedumb,iflikeyousay,Imso smart? So, here was Agee to begin with, and with the Walker Evans'photographs tohelpheralong:abooktospeaktoherofherownearly life, toenlarge her perspective on her origins ( origins, of course, holding far morefascinationfortheniceleft-wingJewishboythanfortheproletariangirlherself).HowearnestIwascompilingthatreadinglist!Boy,wasIgoingtoimprovehermind!AfterAgee,Adamic'sDynamite!,myownyellowingcopyfromcollege;Iimagined her benefiting from my undergraduate underlinings, coming tounderstandthedistinctionbetweentherelevantandthe trivial,ageneralizationandanillustration,andsoon.Furthermore,itwasabooksosimplywritten,thathopefully,withoutmypushingher,shemightbeencouragedtoreadnotjustthechapters I had suggested, those touching directly upon her own past (as Iimaginedit)-violenceinthecoalfields,beginningwiththeMollyMaguires;the

chapterontheWobblies-buttheentirehistoryofbrutalityandterrorpracticedbyandupontheAmericanlaboringclass,fromwhichshewasdescended.HadsheneverreadabookcalledU.S.A.?MortimerSnerd:Duh,Ineverreadnothing,Mr.Bergen.So I bought her theModernLibraryDOSPasses, a bookwith a hardcover.Simple,Ithought,keepitsimple,buteducational,elevating.Ah,yougetthedreamypoint,I'msure.Thetexts?W.E.B.DuBois'TheSoulsfBlackFolk.TheGrapesofWrath.AnAmericanTragedy.AbookofSherwoodAnderson'sIlike, calledPoorWhite (the title, I thought,might stir her interest). Baldwin'sNotes of a Native Son. The name of the course?Oh, I don't know- ProfessorPortnoy'sHumiliatedMinorities, an Introduction.TheHistoryandFunctionofHatred inAmerica. The purpose? To save the stupid shikse; to rid her of herrace's ignorance; tomake this daughter of the heartless oppressor a student ofsufferingandoppression; to teachher tobecompassionate, tobleeda littlefortheworld'ssorrows.Getitnow?Theperfectcouple:sheputstheidbackinYid,Iputtheoybackingoy.

Where am I? Tuxedoed.All civilized-up inmy evening clothes, and dirwillastill sizzling inmy hand, as TheMonkey emerges wearing the frock she hasboughtspecificallyfortheoccasion.Whatoccasion?Wheredoesshethinkwe'regoing,toshootadirtymovie?Doctor,itbarelyreachesherass!Itiscrochetedofsomekindofgoldmetallicyarnandcoversnothingbutabodystockingthecolorof her skin! And to top thismodest outfit off, over her real head of hair shewears a wig inspired by Little Orphan Annie, an oversized aureole of blackcorkscrewcurls,outofwhosecenterpokesthisdumbpaintedface.Whatameanlittlemouthitgivesher!ShereallyisfromWestVirginia!Theminer'sdaughterintheneoncity!Andthis,Ithink,ishowsheisgoingwithmetotheMayor's?Looking like a stripper? 'Dear,' and she spells itwith three letters!Andhasn'treadtwopagesoftheAgeebookinanentireweek!Hassheevenlookedatthepictures?Duh,Idoubtit!Oh,wrong,Ithink,jamminghernoteintomypocketforakeepsake-Icanhaveitlaminatedforaquarterthenextday-wrong!ThisissomebodywhomIpickedupoffthestreet!Whosuckedmeoffbeforesheevenknewmyname!WhooncepeddledherassinLasVegas,ifnotelsewhere!Justlook at her-a moll! The Assistant Human Opportunity Commissioner's moll!What kind of dream am I living in? Being with such a person is for me allwrong!Mean-ing-less!Awasteofeverybody'senergyandcharacterandtime!

Okay,saysTheMonkeyinthetaxi,what'sbuggingyou,Max?

Nothing.

YouhatethewayIlook.

Ridiculous.

Driver-PeckandPeck!

Shutup.GracieMansion,driver.

I'mgettingradiationpoisoning,Alex,fromwhatyou'regivingoff.

I'mnotgivingoffshit!I'vesaidnothing.

You'vegotthoseblackHebeeyes,man,theysayitforyou.Tutti!

Relax,Monkey.

Yourelax!

Iam!Butmymanlyresolvelastsaboutaminutemore.OnlyforChrist'ssake,Itellher,don'tsaycunttoMaryLindsay!

What?

Youheardright.Whenwegettheredon'tstart talkingaboutyourwetpussytowhoever opens the door!Don'tmake a grab forBig John's shlonguntilwe'vebeenthereatleasthalfanhour,okay?

With this, a hiss like the sound of air brakes rises from the driver-and TheMonkeyheavesherselfinarageagainstthereardoor.I'llsayanddoandwearanythingIwant!Thisisafreecountry,youuptightJewishprick!

You should have seen the look given us upon disembarking by Mr. MannySchapiro, our driver. Rich joik-offs! he yells. Nazi bitch! and burns rubberpullingaway.

Fromwherewe sit on a bench in Carl Schurz Park, we can see the lights inGracieMansion;Iwatchtheothermembersofthenewadministrationarriving,asIstrokeherarm,kissherforehead,tellherthereisnoreasontocry,thefaultis mine, yes, yes, I am an uptight Jewish prick, and apologize, apologize,apologize.

-pickingonmeallthetime-injustthewayyoulookatmeyoupickonme,Alex!I open the door at night, I'm sodying to see you, thinking all day long aboutnothing but you, and there are those fucking orbs already picking out everysinglethingthat'swrongwithme!AsifI'mnotinsecureenough,asifinsecurityisn'tmywholehang-up,yougetthatexpressionalloveryourfacetheminuteIopenmymouth- Imean I can't evengiveyou the timeof thedaywithout thelook:ohshit,herecomesanotherdumbandstupidremarkoutofthatbrainlesstwat. I say, 'It's five to seven,' andyou think, 'Howfuckingdumbcanshebe!'Well, I'm not brainless, and I'm not a twat either, just because I didn't go tofuckingHarvard!Anddon't giveme anymoreof your shit about behaving infrontofTheLindsays.JustwhothefuckareTheLindsays?AGoddamnmayor,andhiswife!Afuckingmayor!Incaseyouforget,Iwasmarriedtooneoftherichestmen inFrancewhenIwasstilleighteenyearsold-IwasaguestatAlyKhan's for dinner, when you were still back in Newark, New Jersey, finger-fuckingyourlittleJewishgirlfriends!

Was this my idea of a love affair, she asked, sobbing miserably. To treat awomanlikealeper?

Iwanted to say,Maybe then this isn't a love affair.Maybe it'swhat's called amistake.Maybeweshouldjustgoourdifferentways,withnohardfeelings.ButIdidn't!Forfearshemightcommitsuicide!Hadn'tshefiveminutesearliertriedto throw herself out the rear door of the taxi? So suppose I had said, Look,Monkey, this is it -what was to stop her from rushing across the park, andleapingtoherdeathintheEastRiver?Doctor,youmustbelieveme,thiswasareal possibility-this iswhy I said nothing; but then her armswere aroundmyneck, and oh, she said plenty. I love you,Alex! Iworship and adore you! Sodon'tputmedown,please!BecauseIcouldn't take it!Becauseyou're theverybestman,woman,orchildI'veeverknown!Inthewholeanimalkingdom!Oh,Breakie,youhaveabigbrainandabigcockandIloveyou!

AndthenonabenchnomorethantwohundredfeetfromTheLindsaysmansion,she buried her wig in my lap and proceeded to suck me off. Monkey, no, Ipleaded, no, as she passionately zipped open my black trousers, there areplainclothesmen everywhere! -referring to the policing ofGracieMansion anditsenvirons.They'llhaulusin,creatingapublicnuisance-Monkey,thecops-butturning her ambitious lips up frommy open fly, shewhispered,Only in yourimagination (a not unsubtle retort, if meant subtly), and then down sheburrowed,somefurrylittleanimalinsearchofahome.Andmasteredmewith

hermouth.

AtdinnerIoverheardhertellingtheMayorthatshemodeledduringthedayandtookcoursesatHunteratnight.Notawordabouthercunt,asfarasIcouldtell.ThenextdayshewentofftoHunter,andthatnight,forasurprise,showedmetheapplicationblankshehadgottenfromtheadmissionsoffice.WhichIpraisedherfor.Andwhichsheneverfilledout,ofcourse-exceptforherage:2.9.

AfantasyofTheMonkey's,datingfromherhighschoolyears inMoundsville.Thereverieshelivedin,whileotherslearnedtoreadandwrite:

Aroundabigconferencetable,atrigidattention,sitalltheboysinWestVirginiawhoareseekingadmissiontoWestPoint.Underneaththetable,crawlingonherhandsandknees,andnude,isourgawkyteen-ageilliterate,MaryJaneReed.AWestPointcolonelwithaswaggersticktap-tappingbehindhisback,circlesandcirclestheperimeterofthetable,scrutinizingthefacesoftheyoungmen,asoutof sight Mary Jane proceeds to undo their trousers and to blow each of thecandidates inhis turn.Theboyselected foradmission to themilitaryacademywillbehewhoismostable tomaintainasternanddignifiedsoldierlybearingwhile shooting off into Mary Jane's savage and knowing little weapon of amouth.

Ten months. Incredible. For in that time not a day- very likely, not an hour-passedthatIdidnotaskmyself,Whycontinuewiththisperson?Thisbrutalizedwoman!Thiscoarse,tormented,self-loathing,bewildered,lost,identityless-andsoon.Thelistwasinexhaustible,Ireviewedit interminably.AndtoremembertheeasewithwhichIhadpluckedheroff thestreet (thesexual triumphofmylife!), well, that made me groan with disgust. How can I go on and on withsomeonewhosereasonandjudgmentandbehaviorIcan'tpossiblyrespect?Whosets off inside me daily explosions of disapproval, hourly thunderclaps ofadmonition!Andthesermonizing!Oh,whataschoolmasterIbecame.Whenshebought me those Italian loafers for my birthday, for instance-such a lecture Igaveinreturn!

Look,Isaid,oncewewereoutofthestore,alittleshoppingadvice:whenyougooff todosomethingsoverysimpleasexchangingmoneyforgoods, it isn'tnecessarytoflashyoursnatchateveryonethissideofthehorizon.Okay?

Flashwhat?Whoflashedanything?

You,MaryJane!Yoursupposedlyprivateparts!

Ididnot!

Please,every timeyoustoodup,every timeyousatdown,I thoughtyouweregoingtogetyourselfhookedbythepussyonthesalesman'snose.

Jee-zuz,Igottasit,Igottastand,don'tI?

Butnotlikeyou'reclimbingonandoffahorse!

Well,Idon'tknowwhat'sbuggingyou-hewasafaggotanyway.

What's 'bugging'meis that thespacebetweenyour legshasnowbeenseenbymorepeoplethanwatchHuntleyandBrinkley!Sowhynotbowoutwhileyou'restill champeen, all right? Yet, even as Imakemy accusation, I am saying tomyself,Oh,layoff,LittleBoyBlue-ifyouwantaladyinsteadofacunt,thengetyourselfone.Who'sholdingyouhere?Because this city, asweknow, is alivewith girls wholly unlike Miss Mary Jane Reed, promising, unbroken,uncontaminated youngwomen-healthy, in fact, asmilkmaids. I know,becausethesewere her predecessors-only they didn't satisfy, either. Theywerewrong,too.Spielvogel,believeme,I'vebeenthere,I'vetried:I'veeatentheircasserolesandshavedintheirjohns,I'vebeengivenduplicatekeystotheirpolicelocksandshelvesofmyownin themedicinechest, Ihaveevenbefriended thosecatsoftheirs-named Spinoza and Clytemnestra and Candide and Cat-yes, yes, cleverand erudite girls, fresh from successful adventures in sex and scholarship atwholesome Ivy League colleges, lively, intelligent, self-respecting, self-assured, and well-behaved young women-social workers and researchassistants, schoolteachers and copy readers, girls inwhose company I did notfeel abject or ashamed, girls I did not have to father ormother or educate orredeem.Andtheydidn'tworkout,either!

Kay Campbell, my girl friend at Antioch-could there have been a moreexemplary person? Artless, sweet-tempered, without a trace of morbidity oregoism-athoroughlycommendableandworthyhumanbeing.Andwhereisshenow,thatfind!Hello,Pumpkin!Makingsomeluckyshaygetsawonderfulwifeout there inmiddleAmerica?Howcouldshedootherwise?Edited the literarymagazine,walkedoffwithallthehonorsinEnglishliterature,picketedwithmeandmyoutragedfriendsoutsideofthatbarbershopinYellowSpringswheretheywouldn't cutNegro hair-a robust, genial, large-hearted, large-assed girlwith a

sweet baby face, yellowhair, no tits, unfortunately (essentially titlesswomenseem to be my destiny, by the way-now, why is that? is there an essaysomewhereIcanreadonthat?isitofimport?orshallIgoon?).Ah,andthosepeasant legs!And theblouse alwayshanging loose fromher skirt at theback.HowmovedIwasbythatblithesometouch!Andbythefactthatonhighheelsshe looked likeacatstuckupa tree, in trouble,outofherelement,allwrong.AlwaysthefirstoftheAntiochnymphstogobarefoottoclassesinspring.ThePumpkin, iswhatIcalledher, incommemorationofherpigmentationandthe size of her can. Also her solidity: hard as a gourd on matters of moralprinciple,beautifullystubborninawayIcouldn'tbutenvyandadore.

Sheneverraisedhervoiceinanargument.Canyouimaginetheimpressionthismadeonmeatseventeen,freshfrommyengagementwithTheJackandSophiePortnoy Debating Society? Who had ever heard of such an approach tocontroversy?Neverridiculedheropponent!Orseemedtohatehimforhisideas!Ah-hah,sothisiswhatitmeanstobeachildofgoyim,valedictorianofahighschoolinIowainsteadofNewJersey;yes,thisiswhatthegoyimwhohavegotsomething have got! Authority without the temper. Virtue without the self-congratulation. Confidence sans swagger or condescension. Come on, let's befair and give the goyim their due.Doctor:when they are impressive, they arevery impressive. So sound! Yes, that's what hypnotized-the heartiness, thesturdiness; in a word, her pumpkinness. My wholesome, big-bottomed,lipstickless, barefooted shikse, where are you now, Kay-Kay?Mother to howmany?Didyouwindupreallyfat?Ah,sowhat!Supposeyou'rebigasahouse-youneed a showcase for that character of yours!Theverybest of theMiddleWest, sowhydid I let her go?Oh, I'll get to that, noworry, self-laceration isnevermorethanamemoryaway,weknowthatbynow.Inthemeantime,letmemisshersubstantialityalittle.Thatbutteryskin!Thatunattendedstreaminghair!Andthisisbackintheearlyfifties,beforestreaminghairbecamethestyle!Thiswas justnaturalness.Doctor. Round and ample, sun-coloredKay! I'll bet thathalf adozenkiddies are clinging to thatgirl's abundantbehind (sounlikeTheMonkey'shardlittlehandfulofamodel'sass!).I'llbetyoubakeyourownbread,right?(ThewayyoudidthathotspringnightinmyYellowSpringsapartment,inyourhalfslipandbrassiere,withflourinyourearsandyourhairlinedampwithperspiration-remember? showing me, despite the temperature, how real breadshouldtaste?Youcouldhaveusedmyheartforbatter,that'showsoftitfelt!)I'llbetyoulivewheretheairisstillunpoisonedandnobodylockshisdoor-andstilldon'tgive twoshitsaboutmoneyorpossessions.Hey, Idon't either.Pumpkin,stillunbesmirchedmyselfonthoseandrelatedmiddle-classissues!Oh,perfectly

ill-proportionedgirl!Nomile-longmannequinyou!Soshehadnotits,sowhat?Slight as a butterfly through the rib cage and neck, but planted like a bearbeneath!Rooted,that'swhatI'mgettingat!Joinedbythoselineman'slegstothisAmericanground!

You should have heard Kay Campbell when we went around Greene Countyringing doorbells for Stevenson in our sophomore year. Confronted with themost awesome Republican small-mindedness, a stinginess and bleakness ofspiritthatcouldabsolutelybendthemind.ThePumpkinneverwasanythingbutladylike. I was a barbarian. No matter how dispassionately I began (orcondescendingly, because that's how it came out), I invariablywound up in asweatandarage,sneering,insulting,condemning,toe-to-toewiththeseterriblepinched people, calling their beloved Ike an illiterate, a political and moralmoron-probably Iamas responsibleasanyone forAdlai losingasbadlyashedidinOhio.ThePumpkin,however,gavesuchunflawedandkindlyattentiontotheoppositionpointofviewthatIexpectedsometimesforhertoturnandsaytome, Why, Alex, I think Mr. Yokel is right-I think maybe he is too soft oncommunism.Butno,whenthelastidiocyhadbeenutteredaboutourcandidate'ssocialistical and/or pinko ideas, the final condemnation made of his sense ofhumor.ThePumpkinproceeded,ceremoniouslyand(awesomefeat!)withoutahint of sarcasm-shemight havebeen the judge at a pie-baking contest, such aperfect blend was she of sobriety and good humor-proceeded to correct Mr.Yokel'serrorsoffactandlogic,eventodrawattentiontohisniggardlymorality.Unencumbered by the garbled syntax of the apocalypse or the ill-manneredvocabularyofdesperation,without theperspiringupperlip, theconstrictedandair-hungry throat, the flush of loathing on the forehead, she may even haveswayedhalfadozenpeopleinthecounty.Christ,yes,thiswasoneofthegreatshikses.Imighthavelearnedsomethingspendingtherestofmylifewithsuchaperson.Yes, Imight-if Icould learnsomething!If Icouldbesomehowsprungfromthisobsessionwithfellatioandfornication,fromromanceandfantasyandrevenge-from the settlingof scores! thepursuit of dreams! from this hopeless,senselessloyaltytothelongago!

In1950,justseventeen,andNewarktwoandahalfmonthsbehindme(well,notexactly behind : in the mornings I awake in the dormitory baffled by theunfamiliar blanket inmyhand, and thedisappearanceof oneofmywindows;oppressedanddistraughtforminutesonendbythisunanticipatedtransformationgivenmybedroombymymother)-Iperformthemostopenlydefiantactofmylife: instead of going home for my first college vacation, I travel by train to

Iowa,tospendThanksgivingwithThePumpkinandherparents.TillSeptemberIhadneverbeenfartherwestthanLakeHopatconginNewJersey-nowIamofftoloway!Andwithablondie!OftheChristianreligion!Whoismorestunnedbythisdesertion,myfamilyorme?Whatdaring!OrwasInomoredaringthanasleepwalker?

Thewhite clapboard house inwhich The Pumpkin had grown upmight havebeen theTajMahal for the emotions it released inme.Balboa,maybe,knowswhat I felt upon first glimpsing the swing tied up to the ceiling of the frontporch.Shewasraisedinthishouse.Thegirlwhohasletmeundoherbrassiereand dry-humpher at the dormitory door, grewup in thiswhite house.Behindthosegoyischecurtains!Look,shutters!

Daddy,Mother,saysThePumpkin,whenwedisembarkat theDavenport trainstation, this is theweekendguest, this is the friendfromschoolwhomIwroteyouabout-

Iamsomethingcalledaweekendguest? Iamsomethingcalleda friend fromschool ?What tongue is she speaking? I am the bonditt, the vantz, I am theinsuranceman's son. I amWarshaw's ambassador!How do you do,Alex?Towhichof course I reply,Thankyou.Whatever anybody says tomeduringmyfirsttwenty-fourhoursinIowa,Ianswer,Thankyou.Eventoinanimateobjects.Iwalkintoachair,promptlyIsaytoit,Excuseme,thankyou.Idropmynapkinonthefloor,leandown,flushing,topickitup,Thankyou,Ihearmyselfsayingtothenapkin-orisitthefloorI'maddressing?Wouldmymotherbeproudofherlittlegentleman!Politeeventothefurniture!

Thenthere'sanexpressioninEnglish,Goodmorning,orsoIhavebeentold;thephrasehasneverbeenofanyparticularusetome.Whyshouldithavebeen?AtbreakfastathomeIaminfactknowntotheotherboardersasMr.Sourball,andTheCrab.Butsuddenly,hereinIowa,inimitationofthelocalinhabitants,Iamtransformedintoaveritablegeyserofgoodmornings.That'sallanybodyaroundthatplaceknowshowtosay-theyfeelthesunshineontheirfaces,anditjustsetsoff some sort of chemical reaction: Good morning! Good morning! Goodmorning! sung to half a dozen different tunes!Next they all start asking eachotheriftheyhadagoodnight'ssleep.Andaskingme!DidIhaveagoodnight'ssleep?Idon'treallyknow,Ihavetothink-thequestioncomesassomethingofasurprise.DidIHaveAGoodNight'sSleep?Why,yes!IthinkIdid!Hey-didyou?Like a log, repliesMr.Campbell.And for the first time inmy life I

experiencethefullforceofasimile.Thisman,whoisarealestatebrokerandanalderman of the Davenport town council, says that he slept like a log, and Iactuallyseealog.Igetit!Motionless,heavy,likealog!Goodmorning,hesays,andnowitoccurstomethatthewordmorning,asheusesit,refersspecificallyto the hours between eightA.M. and twelve noon. I'd never thought of it thatwaybefore.Hewantsthehoursbetweeneightandtwelvetobegood,whichistosay,enjoyable,pleasurable,beneficial!Weareallofuswishingeachotherfourhoursofpleasureandaccomplishment.Why,that'sterrific!Hey,that'sverynice!Goodmorning!AndthesameappliestoGoodafternoon!AndGoodevening!AndGoodnight!MyGod!TheEnglishlanguageisaformofcommunication!Conversationisn'tjustcrossfirewhereyoushootandgetshotat!Whereyou'vegottoduckforyourlifeandaimtokill!Wordsaren'tonlybombsandbullets-no,they'relittlegifts,containingmeanings!

Wait,I'mnotfinished-asiftheexperienceofbeingontheinsideratherthantheoutsideofthesegoyischecurtainsisn'toverwhelmingenough,asiftheincredibleexperienceofmywishinghouruponhourofpleasuretoahousefulofgoyimisn'tsufficient source for bewilderment, there is, to compound the ecstasy ofdisorientation,thenameofthestreetuponwhichtheCampbellhousestands,thestreetwheremygirlfriendgrewup!skipped!skated!hop-scotched!sledded!allthewhileIdreamedofherexistencesomefifteenhundredmilesaway,inwhattheytellmeisthesamecountry.Thestreetname?NotXanadu,no,bettereventhan that, oh,more preposterous by far:Elm. Elm! It is, you see, as though Ihavewalked right through theorangecelluloid stationbandofouroldZenith,directlyintoOneMan'sFamily.Elm.Wheretreesgrow-whichmustbeelms!

Tobe truthful, Imustadmit that Iamnotable todrawsuchaconclusion firstthinguponalightingfromtheCampbellcaronWednesdaynight:afterall,ithastakenmeseventeenyearstorecognizeanoak,andeventhereIamlostwithoutthe acorns. What I see first in a landscape isn't the flora, believe me-it's thefauna, the human opposition, who is screwing and who is getting screwed.GreeneryIleavetothebirdsandthebees,theyhavetheirworries,Ihavemine.Athomewhoknowsthenameofwhatgrowsfromthepavementatthefrontofour house? It's a tree-and that's it. The kind is of no consequence, who careswhatkind,justaslongasitdoesn'tfalldownonyourhead.Intheautumn(orisit thespring?Doyouknowthisstuff? I'mprettysure it'snot thewinter) theredropfromitsbranches longcrescent-shapedpodscontaininghard littlepellets.Okay.Here'sascientificfactaboutourtree,comesbywayofmymother,SophieLinnaeus: Ifyoushoot thosepellets througha straw,youcan take somebody's

eyeoutandmakehimblindforlife.(SONEVERDOIT!NOTEVENINJEST!ANDIFANYBODYDOESITTOYOU,YOUTELLMEINSTANTLY!)Andthis,moreor less, is thesortofbotanicalknowledgeIamequippedwith,untilthat Sunday afternoon when we are leaving the Campbell house for the trainstation, and I havemyArchimedean experience: Elm Street ..... then ..... elmtrees!Howsimple!Imean,youdon'tneed158pointsofI.Q.,youdon'thavetobeageniustomakesenseofthisworld.It'sreallyallsoverysimple!

Amemorableweekendinmylifetime,equivalentinhumanhistory,Iwouldsay,tomankind's passage through the entire StoneAge.Every timeMr.CampbellcalledhiswifeMary,mybodytemperatureshotintothehundreds.ThereIwas,eatingoffdishesthathadbeentouchedbythehandsofawomannamedMary.(Is thereacluehereas towhyI so resistedcallingTheMonkeybyhername,excepttochastiseher?No?)Please,Iprayonthetrainheadingwest,lettherebeno pictures of Jesus Christ in the Campbell house. Let me get through thisweekendwithouthavingtoseehispatheticpunim-ordealwithanyonewearingacross!WhentheauntsandunclescomefortheThanksgivingdinner,please,letthere be no anti-Semite among them! Because if someone starts in with thepushyJews,orsayskikeorjewedhimdown-Well,I'llJewthemdownallright,I'lljewtheirfuckingteethdowntheirthroat!No,noviolence(asifIevenhaditinme),letthembeviolent,that'stheirway.No,I'llrisefrommyseat-and(vuhden?)makeaspeech! Iwillshameandhumiliate themin theirbigotedhearts!QuotetheDeclarationofIndependenceovertheircandiedyams!Whothefuckarethey,I'llask,tothinktheyownThanksgiving!

Thenattherailroadstationherfathersays,Howdoyoudo,youngman?andIofcourse answer, Thank you. Why is he acting so nice? Because he has beenforewarned (which Idon'tknowwhether to takeasan insultorablessing),orbecausehedoesn'tknowyet?ShallIsayitthen,beforeweevengetintothecar?Yes, I must! I can't go on living a lie! Well, it sure is nice being here inDavenport,Mr. andMrs. Campbell, what withmy being Jewish and all. Notquiteringingenoughperhaps.Well,asafriendofKay's,Mr.andMrs.Campbell,and a Jew, I do want to thank you for invitingme- Stop pussyfooting!Whatthen?TalkYiddish?How?I'vegottwenty-fivewordstomyname-halfofthemdirty,andtherestmis-pronounced!Shit,justshutupandgetinthecar.Thankyou, thankyou, I say,pickingupmyownbag,andweallheadfor thestationwagon.

KayandIclimbintothebackseat,withthedog.Kay'sdog!Towhomshetalks

asthoughhe'shuman!Wow,shereallyisagoy.Whatastupidthing,totalktoadog-exceptKayisn'tstupid!Infact,Ithinkshe'ssmarterreallythanIam.Andyet talks to a dog?As far as dogs are concerned,Mr. andMrs.Campbell,weJews by and large-Oh, forget it.Not necessary.You are ignoring anyway (ortryingawfullyhardto)thateloquentappendagecalledyournose.NottomentiontheAfro-Jewishhairpiece.Ofcourse theyknow.Sorry,but there'snoescapingdestiny,bubi,aman'scartilageishisfate.ButIdon'twanttoescape!Well,that'snicetoo-becauseyoucan't.Oh,butyesIcan-if Ishouldwant to!Butyousaidyoudon'twantto.ButifIdid!

As soon as I enter the house I begin (on the sly, and somewhat to my ownsurprise) to sniff:whatwill the odor be like?Mashed potatoes?Anold lady'sdress?Freshcement?IsniffandIsniff,tryingtocatchthescent.There!isthatit, is thatChristianity I smell,or just thedog?Everything I see, taste, touch, Ithink,Goyish!MyfirstmorningIsqueezehalfan inchofPepsodentdownthedrainratherthanputmybrushwhereKay'smotherorfathermayhavetouchedthebristleswithwhichtheycleansetheirowngoyischemolars.True!Thesoapon the sink is bubbly with foam from somebody's hands. Whose? Mary's?Should I just takeholdof it andbegin towash,or should Imaybe runa littlewater over it first, just to be safe.But safe fromwhat?Schmuck,maybe youwant togetapieceofsoap towash thesoapwith! I tiptoe to the toilet, Ipeeroverintothebowl:Well,thereitis,boy,arealgoyischetoiletbowl.Thegenuinearticle.Whereyourgirlfriend'sfatherdropshisgentileturds.Whatdoyouthink,hub?Prettyimpressive.Obsessed?Spellbound!

NextIhavetodecidewhetherornottolinetheseat.Itisn'tamatterofhygiene,I'msuretheplaceisclean,spotlessinitsownparticularantisepticgoyway:thequestion is, what if it's warm yet from a Campbell behind-from her mother!Mary!MotheralsoofJesusChrist! Ifonlyfor thesakeofmyfamily,maybeIshouldputa littlepaperaround the rim; itdoesn'tcostanything,andwhowilleverknow?

Iwill! Iwill!SodownIgo-and it iswarm!Yi, seventeenyearsoldandIamrubbingasseswiththeenemy!HowfarIhavetraveledsinceSeptember!BythewatersofBabylon,therewesatdown,yea,weweptwhenwerememberedZion!Andyeaisright!OnthecanIambesiegedbydoubtandregret,Iamsuddenlylanguishingwithallmyheart forhome . . .Whenmyfatherdrivesout tobuyreal apple cider at the roadside farmer'smarket off inUnion, Iwon't bewithhim! And how can Hannah and Morty go to the Weequahic-Hillside game

Thanks-givingmorningwithoutmealongtomakethemlaugh?Jesus,Ihopewewin (which is to say, loseby less than21points).BeatHillside,youbastards!DoubleU,DoubleE,QUA,H IC! Bernie, Sidney,Leon,Ushie, comeon,backfield,FIGHT!

Aye-ayeki-ike-us,

Nobodylikesus,

WearetheboysofWeequahicHigh-

Aye-ayeki-ucch-us,

Kishmirintuchis,

WearetheboysofWeequahicHigh!

Comeon-holdthatline,makethatpoint,kick'eminthekishkas,goteamgo!

See,I'mmissingmychancetobecleverandquik-wittedinthestands!Toshowoffmysarcasticandmockingtongue!Andafterthegame,missingthehistoricalThanksgiving meal prepared by my mother, that freckled and red-headeddescendantofPolishJews!Oh,howthebloodwillflowoutoftheirfaces,whatadeathlysilencewillprevail,whensheholdsupthehugedrumstick,andcries,Here! For guess who! and Guess-who is found to be AWOL! Why have Idesertedmy family?Maybe around the tablewe don't look like a painting byNormanRockwell,butwehaveagoodtime,too,don'tyouworry!Wedon'tgobacktothePlymouthRock)noIndianeverbroughtmaizetoanymemberofourfamily as far as we know-but just smell that stuffing! And look, cylinders ofcranberry sauceat either endof the table!And the turkey'sname,Tom!Whythencan'tIbelieveIameatingmydinnerinAmerica,thatAmericaiswhereIam,insteadofsomeotherplacetowhichIwillonedaytravel,asmyfatherandImust travel everyNovember out to that hayseed and hiswife inUnion,NewJersey(thetwooftheminoveralls),forrealThanksgivingapplecider.

I'mgoingtoIowa,Itellthemfromthephoneboothonmyfloor.Towhere?ToDavenport, Iowa. On your first college vacation?! -I know, but it's a greatopportunity,and Ican't turn itdown-Opportunity?Todowhat?Yes, to spendThanksgiving with this boy named Bill Campbell's family-Who? Campbell.Like thesoup.He lives inmydorm-But theyareexpectingme.Everybody is

expectingme.Mortyhastheticketstothegame.WhatamItalkingopportunity?Andwhoisthisboyallofasudden,Campbell?Myfriend!Bill!But;'saysmyfather,theciderOhmyGod,it'shappened,whatIsworeIwouldn'tpermit!-Iamintears,andcideristhelittlewordthatdoesit.Themanisanatural-hecouldgoonGrouchoMarxandwinafortuneguessingthesecret-woid.Heguessesmine,everysingletime!Andwinsmyjackpotofcontrition!Ican'tbackout,Imsorry,I'veaccepted-we'regoing!Going?Andhow,Alex-Idon'tunderstandthisplanatall, interruptsmymother-howareyougoing, if Imaybesobold,andwhere?andinaconvertibletoo,thattoo-NO!Andifthehighwaysareicy,Alex-We'regoing.Mother,inaShermantank!Okay?Okay?Alex,shesayssternly,Ihearitin your voice, I know you're not telling me the whole truth, you're going tohitchhike in a convertible or some other crazy thing-two months away fromhome,seventeenyearsold,andhe'sgoingwild!

Sixteenyearsago Imade thatphonecall.A littlemore thanhalf theage I amnow. November 1950-here, it's tattooed on my wrist, the date of myEmancipationProclamation.ChildrenunbornwhenIfirsttelephonedmyparentstosayIwasn'tcominghomefromcollegeare justenteringcollege, Isuppose-onlyImstill telephoningmyparents tosayI'mnotcominghome!Fightingoffmyfamily,still!Whatusetoskipthosetwogradesingrammarschoolandgetsuchajumponeverybodyelse,whentheresultistowindupsofarbehind?Myearlypromiseislegend:starringinallthosegrade-schoolplays!takingonattheage of twelve the entire DAR! Why then do I live by myself and have nochildrenofmyown?It'snononsequitur,thatquestion!ProfessionallyI'mgoingsomewhere,granted,butprivately-whathaveIgottoshowformyself?Childrenshouldbeplayingonthisearthwholooklikeme!Whynot?Whyshouldeveryshtunkwithapicturewindowandacarporthaveoffspring,andnotme?Itdon'tmakesense!Thinkofit,halftheraceisover,andIstillstandhereatthestartingline-me, the first one out of his swaddling clothes and into his track suit! ahundredandfifty-eightpointsofI.Q.,andstillarguingwiththeauthoritiesabouttherulesandregulations!disputingthecoursetoberun!callingintoquestionthelegitimacy of the track commission! Yes, crab is correct,Mother! Sourball isperfect,rightonTheNose'snose!Mr.Conniption-Fit-cestmoi!

Another of these words I went through childhood thinking of as Jewish.Conniption.Goahead,haveaconniption-fit,mymotherwouldadvise.Seeifitchangesanything,mybrilliantson.AndhowItried!HowIusedtohurlmyselfagainst the walls of her kitchen! Mr. Hot-Under-The Collar! Mr. Hit-The-Ceiling!Mr. Fly-Off-The- Handle! The names I earn for myself! God forbid

somebody should look at you cockeyed,Alex, their life isn'tworth two cents!Mr. Always-Right-And-Never-Wrong! Grumpy From The Seven Dwarfs IsVisitingUs,Daddy.Ah,Hannah,YourBrotherSurlyHasHonoredUsWithHisPresenceThisEvening,It'sAPleasureToHaveYou, Surly.HiHoSilver,shesighs, as I rush into my bedroom to sink my fangs into the bedspread, TheTemperTantrumKidRidesAgain.

NeartheendofourjunioryearKaymissedaperiod,andsowebegan,andwithacertaineagerdelight-andwhollywithoutpanic,interestingly-tomakeplanstobemarried.Wewouldofferourselvesasresidentbaby-sitterstoayoungfacultycouplewhowere fondofus; in return theywouldgiveus their roomyattic tolivein,andashelftouseintheirrefrigerator.Wewouldwearoldclothesandeatspaghetti.Kaywouldwritepoetryabouthavingababy,and,shesaid,typetermpapers for extra money.We had our scholarships, what more did we need? (besides a mattress, some bricks and boards for bookshelves, Kay's DylanThomasrecord,andintime,acrib).Wethoughtofourselvesasadventurers.

Isaid,Andyou'llconvert,right?

Iintendedthequestiontobereceivedasironic,orthoughtIhad.ButKaytookitseriously.Notsolemnly,mindyou,justseriously.

KayCampbell,Davenport,Iowa:WhywouldIwanttodoathinglikethat?

Great girl! Marvelous, ingenuous, candid girl! Content, you see, as she was!Whatonediesforinawoman-Inowrealize!WhywouldIwanttodoathinglikethat? And nothing blunt or defensive or arch or superior in her tone. Justcommonsense,plainlyspoken.

OnlyitputourPortnoyintoarage,incensedTheTemperTantrumKid.Whatdoyoumeanwhywouldyouwanttodoathinglikethat?Whydoyouthink,yousimpleton-goi!Gotalktoyourdog,askhim.AskSpotwhathethinks,thatfour-leggedgenius.WantKay-KaytobeaJew,Spottie-hub,bigfella,hub?Justwhatthefuckmakesyousoself-satisfied,anyway?Thatyoucarryonconversationswithdogs? thatyouknowanelmwhenyouseeone? thatyour fatherdrivesastationwagonmadeoutfwood?What'syourhotsy-totsyaccomplishmentinlife,aby,thatDorisDaysnout?

Iwas,fortunately,soastonishedbymyindignationthatIcouldn'tbegintovoiceit.HowcouldIbefeelingawoundinaplacewhereIwasnotevenvulnerable?

What didKay and I care less about than one,money, and two, religion?Ourfavorite philosopher was Bertrand Russell. Our religion was Dylan Thomas'religion.TruthandJoy!Ourchildrenwouldbeatheists.Ihadonlybeenmakingajoke!

Nonetheless,itwouldseemthatIneverforgaveher:intheweeksfollowingourfalse alarm, shecame to seem tomeboringlypredictable in conversation, andaboutasdesirableasblubberinbed.AnditsurprisedmethatsheshouldtakeitsobadlywhenIfinallyhadtotellherthatIdidn'tseemtocareforheranymore.Iwasveryhonest,yousee,asBertrandRussellsaidIshouldbe.Ijustdon'twanttoseeyouanymore,Kay.Ican'thidemyfeelings,I'msorry.Sheweptpitifully:shecarriedaround thecampus terrible littlepouchesunderneathherbloodshotblue eyes, she didn't show up for meals, she missed classes . . And I wasastonished.BecauseallalongI'dthoughtitwasIwhohadlovedher,notshewhohad lovedme. What a surprise todiscover just theopposite tohavebeen thecase.

Ah,twentyandspurningone'smistress-thatfirstunsulliedthrillofsadismwithawoman!And thedreamof thewomen to come. I returned toNew Jersey thatJune,buoyantwithmyownstrength,wonderinghowIcouldeverhavebeensocaptivatedbysomeonesoordinaryandsofat.

Another gentile heart broken by me belonged to The Pilgrim, Sarah AbbottMaulsby-New Canaan, Foxcroft, and Vassar (where she had as companion,stabledinPoughkeepsie,thatotherflaxenbeauty,herpalomino).Atall,gentle,decoroustwenty-two-year-old,freshfromcollege,andworkingasareceptionistintheofficeoftheSenatorfromConnecticutwhenwetwometandcoupledinthefallof1959.

Iwason the staffof theHouse subcommittee investigating the televisionquizscandals. Perfect for a closet socialist like myself: commercial deceit on anationalscale,exploitationoftheinnocentpublic,elaboratecorporatechicanery-in short, good old capitalist greed. And then of course that extra bonus.CharlatanVanDoren.Suchcharacter,suchbrainsandbreeding,thatcandorandschoolboyishcharm-theur-WASP,wouldn'tyousay?Andturnsouthe'safake.Well,whatdoyouknowaboutthat.GentileAmerica?Supergoy,agonif!Stealsmoney. Covets money. Wants money, will do anything for it. Goodnessgraciousme,almostasbadasJews-yousanctimoniousWASPs!

Yes,IwasonehappyyiddeldownthereinWashington,alittleSterngangofmyown, busily exploding Charlie's honor and integrity, while simultaneouslybecoming lover to that aristocratic Yankee beautywhose forebears arrived ontheseshoresintheseventeenthcentury.PhenomenonknownasHatingYourGoyAndEatingOneToo.

Whydidn'tImarrythatbeautifulandadoringgirl?Irememberherinthegallery,paleandenchanting inanavybluesuitwithgoldbuttons,watchingwithsuchpride, with such love, as I took on one afternoon, inmy first public cross-examination,averyslipperynetworkP.R.man...andIwasimpressivetoo,formyfirst timeout:cool, lucid,persistent, just the faintesthammeringof theheart-andonlytwenty-sixyearsold.Ohyeah,whenIamholdingall themoralcards,watchout,youcrooksyou!IamnobodytofutzaroundwithwhenIknowmyselftobefourhundredpercentintheright.

Whydidn'tImarrythegirl?Well,therewashercutesy-wootsyboardingschoolargot,forone.Couldn'tbearit.Barfforvomit, tickedoffforangry,ahowlforfunny,crackersforcrazy,teenyfortiny.Oh,anddivine(WhatMaryJaneReedmeansbygroovy-I'malways telling thesegirlshowto talk right,mewithmyfive-hundred-wordNewJerseyvocabulary.)Thentherewerethenicknamesofher friends; there were the friends themselves! Poody and Pip and Pebble,ShrimpandBruteandTug,Squeek,Bumpo,Baba-itsounded,Isaid,asthoughshe had gone to Vassar with Donald Duck's nephews . . . But thenmy argotcaused her some pain too. The first time I said fuck in her presence (and thepresenceof friendPebble, inherPeterPancollarandhercablestitchcardigan,andtannedlikeanIndianfromsomuchtennisattheChevyChaseClub),suchalookofagonypassedoverThePilgrim'sface,youwouldhavethoughtIhadjustbrandedthefourlettersonherflesh.Why,sheaskedsoplaintivelyoncewewerealone,whyhadItobesounattractive?Whatpossiblepleasurehaditgivenmetobesoill-mannered?WhatonearthhadIproved?Whydidyouhavetobesopus-ylikethat?Itwassouncalled-for.Pus-ybeingDebutantefordisagreeable.

Inbed?Nothingfancy,noacrobaticsorfeatsofdaringandskill;aswescrewedour first time, so we continued-I assaulted and she surrendered, and the heatgenerated on her mahogany fourposter (a Maulsby family heirloom) wasconsiderable.Ouroneperipheraldelightsthefull-lengthmirroronthebackofthebathroomdoor.There,standingthightothigh,Iwouldwhisper,Look,Sarah,look.At first shewas shy, left the looking tome, at first shewasmodest andsubmittedonlybecauseIwishedherto,butintimeshedevelopedsomethingof

apassion for the lookingglass, too, and followed the reflectionofour joiningwithacertainstartledintensityinhergaze.DidsheseewhatIsaw?Intheblackpubichair,ladiesandgentlemen,weighingonehundredandseventypounds,atleasthalfofwhichisstillundigestedhalvahandhotpastrami,fromNewark,NJ,The Shnoz, Alexander Portnoy! And his opponent, in the fair fuzz, with herelegant polished limbs and the gentlemaidenly face of a Botticelli, that ever-popularpurveyorof thesocialamenitieshere in theGarden,onehundredandfourteenpoundsofRepublicanrefinement,andthepertestpairofnipplesinallNewEngland,fromNewCanaan,Connecticut,SarahAbbottMaulsby!

WhatI'msaying.Doctor,isthatIdon'tseemtostickmydickupthesegirls,asmuchasIstickituptheirbackgrounds-asthoughthroughfuckingIwilldiscoverAmerica.ConquerAmerica-maybethat'smorelikeit.Columbus,CaptainSmith,GovernorWinthrop,GeneralWashington-nowPortnoy.Asthoughmymanifestdestinyistoseduceagirlfromeachoftheforty-eightstates.AsforAlaskanandHawaiianwomen, I really have no feelings eitherway, no scores to settle, nocoupons to cash in, no dreams to put to rest-who are they tome, a bunch ofEskimos andOrientals?No, I am a child of the forties, of network radio andWorldWarTwo,ofeightteamstoaleagueandforty-eightstatestoacountry.IknowallthewordstoTheMarineHymn,andtoTheCaissonsGoRollingAlong-and to The Song of the Army Air Corps. I know the song of theNavy AirCorps:Skyanchorsaweigh/We'resailorsoftheair/We'resailingeverywhere-Ican even sing you the song of the Seabees. Go ahead, name your branch ofservice,Spielvogel,I'llsingyouyoursong!Please,allowme-it'smymoney.Weusedtositonourcoats,Iremember,ontheconcretefloor,ourbacksagainstthesturdywallsofthebasementcorridorsofmygradeschool,singinginunisontokeepupourmoraleuntil theall-clear signal sounded- JohnnyZero.Praise theLord and Pass theAmmunition. The sky-pilot said it/You've got to give himcredit/Forasonofagunofagunnerwashe-e-e-e!Younameit,andifitwasinpraiseoftheStarsandStripes,Iknowitwordforword!Yes,Iamachildofairraiddrills,Doctor,IrememberCorregidorandTheCavalcadeofAmerica,andthat flag, fluttering on its pole, being raised at that heartbreaking angle overbloody Iwo Jima. Colin Kelly went down in flames when I was eight, andHiroshimaandNagasakiwentup inapuff,oneweekwhen Iwas twelve,andthat was the heart of my boyhood, four years of hating Tojo, Hitler, andMussolini,andlovingthisbravedeterminedrepublic!RootingmylittleJewishheartoutforourAmericandemocracy!Well,wewon,theenemyisdeadinanalleybackoftheWilhelmstrasse,anddeadbecauseIprayedhimdead-andnowIwantwhat'scomingtome.MyG.I.bill-realAmericanass!Thecuntincountry-

'tis-of-thee!IpledgeallegiancetothetwatoftheUnitedStatesofAmerica-andto the republic for which it stands: Davenport, Iowa! Dayton, Ohio!Schenectady, New York, and neighboring Troy! Fort Myers, Florida! NewCanaan, Connecticut! Chicago, Illinois! Albert Lea, Minnesota! Portland,Maine!Moundsville,WestVirginia!Sweetlandofskikse-tail,oftheeIsing!

Fromthemountains,

Totheprairies,

Toheoceans,white-with-my-fooaahhh-mmm!

GodblessA-me-ri-cuuuuhhhh!

Myhome,SWEETHOOOOOHHHH-M!

ImaginewhatitmeanttometoknowthatgenerationsofMaulsbyswereburiedinthegraveyardatNewburyport,Massachusetts,andgenerationsofAbbottsinSalem.Landwheremyfathersdied,landofthePilgrimspride...Exactly.Oh,and more. Here was a girl whose mother's flesh crawled at the sound of thewordsEleanorRoosevelt.WhoherselfhadbeendandledonthekneeofWendellWilikieatHobeSound,Florida,in1042(whilemyfatherwassayingprayersforF.D.R.ontheHighHolidays,andmymotherblessinghimovertheFridaynightcandles).TheSenatorfromConnecticuthadbeenaroommateofherDaddy'satHarvard, and her brother, Paunch, a graduate ofYale, held a seat on theNewYorkStockExchange and ( how lucky could I be? ) played polo (yes, gamesfromontopofahorse!)onSundayafternoonssomeplaceinWestchesterCounty,ashehadthroughoutcollege.ShecouldhavebeenaLindabury,don'tyousee?Adaughterofmyfather'sboss!Herewasagirlwhoknewhowtosailaboat,knewhowtoeatherdessertusingtwopiecesofsilverware(apieceofcakeyoucouldickupinyourhands,andyoushouldhaveseenhermanipulateitwiththatforkandthatspoon-likeaChinesewithhischopsticks!Whatskillsshehadlearnedinfar-offConnecticut!).Activitiesthatpartookoftheexoticandeventhetaboosheperformedsosimply,asamatterofcourse:andIwasaswowed(thoughthat'snotthewholestory)asDesdemona,hearingoftheAnthropapagi.Icameacrossanewspaperclippinginherscrapbook,acolumnentitledADebADay,whichbegan, SARAHABBOTTMAULSBY-'Ducks and quails and pheasants betterscurry' aroundNewCanaan this fall because Sally, daughter ofMr. andMrs.Edward H.Maulsby of Greenley Road, is getting in practice for small game

season. Shooting- with a gun. Doctor- shooting is just one of Sally's outdoorhobbies.Shelovesridingtoo,andthissummerhopestotryaroddreel-andgetthis;Ithinkthistalewouldwinmysontoo-hopestotryarodandreelonsomeofthosetroutthatswimby'Wind-view'herfamily'ssummerhome.

WhatSallycouldn'tdowaseatme.Toshootagunatalittlequack-quackisfine,tosuckmycockisbeyondher.Shewassorry,shesaid,ifIwasgoingtotakeitsohard,butitwasjustsomethingshedidn'tcaretotry.Imustn'tactasthoughitwereapersonalaffront,shesaid,becauseithadnothingatalltodowithmeasanindividual...Oh,didn'tit?Bullshit,girlie!Yes,whatmademesoiratewaspreciselymy belief that Iwas being discriminated against.My father couldn'triseatBostonNortheasternfortheverysamereasonthatSallyMaulsbywouldn'tdeign togodownonme!Wherewas the justice in thisworld?Wherewas theB'nai B'rith Anti-Defamation League-! I do it to you, I said. The Pilgrimshrugged;kindlyshesaid,Youdon'thaveto,though.Youknowthat.Ifyoudon'twantto...Ah,butIdowantto-itisn'tamatterofhaveto.Iwantto.Well,sheanswered, I don't.Butwhy not? Because. I don't. Shit, that's the way a childanswers,Sarah-'because'!Givemeareason!I-justdon'tdoat,that'sall.Butthatbringsusback towhy.Why?Alex, Ican't. I justcan't.Givemea singlegoodreason!Please,shereplied,knowingherrights,Idon'tthinkIhaveto.

No, she didn't have to-because to me the answer was clear enough anyway:Becauseyoudon'tknowhowtohikeouttowindwardorwhatajibis,becauseyouhaveneverownedeveningclothesorbeentoacotillion...Yessir,ifIweresomebigblondgoyinapinkridingsuitandhundred-dollarhuntingboots,don'tworry,she'dbedownthereeatingme,ofthatIamsure!

I amwrong. Threemonths I spent applying pressure to the back of her skull(pressuremetbyasurprisingcounterforce,animpressive,evenmovingdisplayofstubbornnessfromsuchamildanduncontentiousperson),forthreemonthsIassaultedherinargumentandtuggedhernightlybytheears.ThenonenightsheinvitedmetoheartheBudapestStringQuartetplayingMozartattheLibraryofCongress;duringthefinalmovementoftheClarinetQuintetshetookholdofmyhand,hercheeksbegantoshine,andwhenwegotbacktoherapartmentandintobed,SaUysaid,Alex...Iwill.Willwhat?Butshewasgone,downbeneaththecovers andout of sight: blowingme!That is to say, she tookmyprick inhermouthandhelditthereforacountofsixty,heldthesurprisedlittlethingthere.Doctor, like a thermometer. I threw back the blankets-this I had to see! Feel,therewasn't verymuch to feel, but oh the sight of it!OnlySallywas already

finished.Havingmoveditbynowtothesideofherface,asthoughitwerethegearshiftonherHillman-Minx.Andthereweretearsonherface.

Ididit,sheannounced.

Sally,oh,Sarah,don'tcry.

ButIdiddoit,Alex.

...Youmean,Isaid,that'sall?

Youmean,shegasped,more?

Well, to be frank, a littlemore-Imean to be truthfulwith you, itwouldn't gounappreciated-

Butit'sgettingbig.I'llsuffocate.

JEWSMOTHERSDEBWITHCOCK,VassarGradGeorgetownStrangulationVictim;MockyLawyerHeld

Notifyoubreathe,youwon't.

IwillIllchoke-

Sarah,thebestsafeguardagainstasphyxiationisbreathing.Justbreathe,andthat'sallthereistoit.Moreorless.

Godblessher,shetried.Butcameupgagging.Itoldyou,shemoaned.

Butyouweren'tbreathing.

Ican'twiththatinmymouth.

Throughyournose.Pretendyou'reswimming.

ButI'mnot.

PRETEND!Isuggested,andthoughshegaveanothergallanttry,surfacedonlysecondslaterinanagonyofcoughingandtears.Igatheredhertheninmyarms(thatlovelywillinggirl!convincedbyMozarttogodownonAlex!oh,sweetas

NatashainWarandPeace!atenderyoungcountess!).Irockedher,Iteasedher,Imadeherlaugh,forthefirsttimeIsaid,Iloveyoutoo,mybaby,butofcourseit couldn't have been clearer to me that despite all her many qualities andcharms-her devotion, her beauty, her deerlike grace, her place in Americanhistory-there couldneverbe any love inme forThePilgrim. Intolerant of herfrailties.Jealousofheraccomplishments.Resentfulofherfamily.No,notmuchroomthereforlove.

No,SallyMaulsbywasjustsomethingniceasononcedidforhisdad.AlittlevengeanceonMr.LindaburyforallthosenightsandSundaysJackPortnoyspentcollecting down in the colored district. A little bonus extracted from BostonNortheastern,forallthoseyearsofservice,andexploitation.

INEXILE

On Sunday mornings, when the weather is warm enough, twenty of theneighborhoodmen(thisinthedaysofshortcenterfield)playaroundofseven-inningsoftballgames, startingatnine in themorningandendingaboutone inthe afternoon, the stakes for each game a dollar a head. The umpire is ourdentist,oldDr.Wolfenberg,theneighborhoodcollegegraduate-nightschoolonHighStreet,butasgoodasOxfordtous.Amongtheplayersisourbutcher,histwinbrotherourplumber,thegrocer,theowneroftheservicestationwheremyfatherbuyshisgasoline-allofthemranginginagefromthirtytofifty,thoughIthinkof themnot in termsof their years, but only as themen. In theon-deckcircle,evenattheplate,theyrolltheirjawsonthestumpsofsoggycigars.Notboys,yousee,butmen.Belly!Muscle!Forearmsblackwithhair!Balddomes!Andthenthevoicestheyhaveonthem-cannonsyoucanheargoofffromasfaras our front stoop a block away. I imagine vocal cords inside them thick asclotheslines! lungs the size of zeppelins! Nobody has to to tell them to stopmumblingandspeakup,never!Andtheoutrageousthingstheysay!Thechatterintheinfieldisn'tchatter,it'skibbitzing,and(tothissmallboy,justbeginningtolearntheartofridicule)hilarious,particularlytheinsultsthatemanatefromthemanmy father has labeled TheMadRussian, Biderman, owner of the cornercandystore(andbookie joint)whohasahesitationside-armdelivery,notonlyvery funny but very effective. Abracadabra, he says, and pitches hisbackbreakingdrop.AndheisalwaysgivingittoDr.Wolfenberg:Ablindump,okay, but a blind dentist?The idea causes him to smote his foreheadwith hisglove. Play ball, comedian, calls Dr. Wolfenberg, very Connie Mack in hisperforatedtwo-toneshoesandPanamahat,startupthegame,Biderman,unless

youwant toget thrownoutofhere for insults-!Buthowdo they teachyou inthatdentalschool.Doc,byBraille?

Meanwhile, all the way from the outfield comes the badinage of one who inappearanceismorecement-mixerthanHomosapiens,theprinceoftheproducemarket,AllieSokolow.Thepiskheopensonhim!(asmymotherwouldputit).Forhalfaninningtheinvectiveflowsintowardhomeplatefromhispositionindeepcenterfield,andthenwhenhisteamcomestobat,hestationshimselfinthefirst-base coaching box and the invective flows uninterruptedly out in theoppositedirection-andnoneof ithasanything todowithanycontretemps thatmayactuallybetakingplaceonthefield.Quitetheopposite.Myfather,whenhe is not outworking on Sundaymornings, comes by to sit andwatch a fewinningswithme;heknowsAllieSokolow(asheknowsmanyof theplayers),sincetheywereallboystogetherintheCentralWard,beforehemetmymotherandmoved to JerseyCity.He says thatAllie has alwaysbeen like this, a realshowman.WhenAlliecharges in towardsecondbase, screaminghisgibberishanddouble-talkinthedirectionofhomeplate(wherethereisn'tevenabatterasyet-whereDr.Wolfenbergismerelydustingtheplatewiththewhiskbroomhebrings to the game), the people in the stands couldn't bemore delighted: theylaugh,theyclap,theycallout,Youtellhim,Allie!Yougiveittohim,Sokolow!And invariablyDr.Wolfenberg,who takeshimself a littlemore seriously thanyourordinarynonprofessionalperson(and isaGermanJew toboot),holdsuphispalm,haltinganalreadySokolow-stoppedgame,andsaystoBiderman,Willyoupleasegetthatmeshuggenerbackintheoutfield?

I tell you, theyare anendearing lot! I sit in thewooden standsalongside firstbase, inhaling that sour springtime bouquet in the pocket of rsy fielder'smitt-sweat, leather, vaseline-and laughing my head off. I cannot imagine myselflivingoutmy lifeanyotherplacebuthere.Why leave,whygo,when there iseverythingherethatIwilleverwant?Theridiculing, thejoking, theacting-up,the pretending-anything for a laugh! I love it!And yet underneath it all, theymeanit, theyare indeadearnest.Youshouldsee themat theendof theseveninningswhenthatdollarhastochangehands.Don'ttellmetheydon'tmeanit!Losingandwinningisnotajoke. . .andyetit is!Andthat'swhatcharmsmemost of all. Fierce as the competition is, they cannot resist clowning andkibbitzingaround.Puttingonashow!HowIamgoingtolovegrowinguptobeaJewishman!LivingforeverintheWeequahicsection,andplayingsoftballonChancellorAvenuefromninetooneonSundays,aperfectjoiningofclownandcompetitor,kibbitzingwiseguyanddangerouslong-ballbitter.

I rememberall thiswhere?when?WhileCaptainMeyerson ismakinghis lastslowturnovertheTelAvivairport.Myfaceisagainstthewindow.Yes,Icoulddisappear, I think, change my mime and never be heard from again- thenMeyersonbanksthewingonmyside,andIlookdownforthefirsttimeuponthecontinentofAsia,IlookdownfromtwothousandfeetintheairupontheLandofIsrael,wheretheJewishpeoplefirstcameintobeing,andamimpaleduponamemoryofSundaymorningsoftballgamesinNewark.

Theelderlycoupleseatedbesideme(theSolomons,EdnaandFelix),whohavetold me in an hour's flight time all about their children and grandchildren inCincinnati(with,ofcourse,awalletfulofvisualaids),nownudgeeachotherandnodtogetherinsilentsatisfaction;theyevenpokesomefriendsacrosstheaisle,acouplefromMountVernonthey'vejustmet(thePeris,SylviaandBernie),andthesetwokvellalsotoseeatall,good-looking,youngJewishlawyer(andsingle!amatchforsomebody'sdaughter!)suddenlybegintoweepuponmakingcontactwith a Jewish airstrip. However, what has produced these tears is not, as theSolomonsandPeriswouldhaveit,afirstglimpseofthenationalhomeland,theingatheringofanexile,butthesoundinmyearofmyownnine-year-oldlittleboy'svoice-myvoice,Imean,atnine.Nine-year-oldme!Sureasourpuss,aface-maker,a littleback-talkerandkvetch, suremypiping isneverwithout itsniceinfuriatingwhinyedgeofpermanentdisgruntlementandgrievance(asthough,mymothersays,theworldoweshimaliving-atnineyearsold),butalaugherandkiddertoo,don'tforgetthat,anenthusiast!aromantic!amimic!anine-year-oldloveroflife!fierywithsuchsimple,neighborhoodydreams!-I'mgoingupthefield,Icallintothekitchen,fibersofpinkloxlodgedlikesourdentalflossinthegapsbetweenmyteeth,I'mgoingupthefield,Ma,poundingmymittwithmycarpy-smellinglittlefist,I'llbebackaroundone-Waitaminute.Whattime?Where?Up the field, I holier-I'm very high on hoUering to be heard, it's likebeingangry,exceptwithouttheconsequences,-towatchthemen!

Andthat's thephrase thatdoesme inaswe touchdownuponEretzYisroel: towatchthemen.

Because I love thosemen! Iwant to grow up to be one of thosemen!To begoinghometoSundaydinneratoneo'clock,sweatsockspungentfromtwenty-one innings of softball, underwear athletically gamy, and in themuscle ofmythrowing arm, a faint throbbing from the low and beautiful pegs I have beenunleashingallmorninglongtoholddowntheoppositiononthebasepaths;yes,hairdisheveled, teethgritty, feetbeat andkishkas sore from laughing, inother

words, feeling great, a robust Jewishman nowgloriously pooped-yes, home Iheadforresuscitation...andtowhom?Tomywifeandmychildren,toafamilyofmyown,andrightthereintheWeequahicsection!Ishaveandshower-rivuletsofwaterstreamoffmyscalpafilthybrown,ah, it'sgood,ahyes, it'saregularpleasurestandingtherenearlyscaldingmyselftodeathwithhotwater.Itstrikesmeassomanly,convertingpaintopleasure.Thenintoapairofsnappyslacksand a freshly dry-cleaned gaucho shirt-perfecto! I whistle a popular song, Iadmiremybiceps,Ishootaragacrossmyshoes,makingitpop,andmeanwhilemy kids are riffling through the Sunday papers ( readingwith eyes the exactcolor ofmy own), giggling away on the living-room rug; andmywife,Mrs.AlexanderPortnoy,issettingthetableinthediningroom-wewillbehavingmymother nd father as guests, theywill bewalking over anyminute, as they doevery Sunday. A future, see! A simple and satisfying future! Exhausting,exhilaratingsoftballinwhichtospendmybody'sforce-thatforthemorning-thenin the afternoon, the brimming, hearty stew of family life, and at night threesolid hours of the best line-up of radio entertainment in the world: yes, as Idelighted inJackBenny's tripsdowntohisvault in thecompanyofmy father,and Fred Alien's conversations with Mrs. Nussbaum, and Phil Harris' withFrankieRemley,alsoshallmychildrendelightinthemwithme,andsountothehundredthgeneration.AndthenafterKennyBaker,Idouble-lockthefrontandbackdoors,turnoffallthelights(checkand-asmyfatherdoes-double-checkthepilotonthegasrangesothatourliveswillnotbestolenfromusinthenight).Ikissgoodnightmyprettysleepydaughterandmycleversleepyson,andinthearms ofMrs. A. Portnoy, that kind and gentle (and inmy sugary butmodestfantasy, faceless) woman, I bank the fires of my abounding pleasure. In themorning I am off to downtown Newark, to the Essex County Court House,whereIspendmyworkdaysseekingjusticeforthepoorandtheoppressed.

Our eighth-grade classvisits the courthouse toobserve the architecture.Homeandinmyroomthatnight,Iwriteinmyfreshnewgraduationautographalbum,under YOUR FAVORITE MOTTO, Don't Step on the Underdog. MYFAVORITEPROFESSION?Lawyer.MYFAVORITEHERO?TomPaine andAbraham Lincoln. Lincoln sits outside the courthouse (in Gutzon Borglum'sbronze),lookingtragicandfatherly:youjustknowhowmuchhecares.AstatueofWashington,standingerectandauthoritarianinfrontofhishorse,overlooksBroadStreet; it istheworkofJ.MasseyRhind(wewritethissecondunname-like name of a sculptor in our notebooks ); our art teacher says that the twostatues are the city's pride, and we head off in pairs for the paintings at theNewarkMuseum.Washington, Imust confess, leavesme cold.Maybe it's the

horse, that he's leaningon a horse.At any rate, he is so obviously agoy. ButLincoln!Icouldcry.Lookathimsittingthere,sooysgemitchet.Howhelaboredforthedowntrodden-aswillI!

AnicelittleJewishboy?Please,IamthenicestlittleJewishboywhoeverlived!Only lookat the fantasies,owsweetandsavior-like theyare!Gratitude tomyparents,loyaltytomytribe,devotiontothecauseofjustice!

And?What's sowrong?Hardwork in an idealistic profession; games playedwithout fanaticism or violence, games played among like-minded people, andwith laughter; and family forgiveness and love. What was so wrong withbelievinginallthat?WhathappenedtothegoodsenseIhadatnine,ten,elevenyearsofage?HowhaveIcometobesuchanenemyandflayerofmyself?Andso lone!Oh, so alone!Nothing but self!Locked up inme!Yes, I have to askmyself(astheairplanecarriesme-Ibelieve-awayfrommytormentor),whathasbecome of my purposes, those decent and worthwhile goals? Home? I havenone.Family?No!ThingsIcouldownjustbysnappingmyfingers...sowhynot snap them then, and get on with my life? No, instead of tucking in mychildrenandlyingdownbesidealoyalwife(towhomIamloyaltoo),Ihave,ontwodifferentevenings,takentobedwithme-coinstantaneously,astheysayinthewhorehouses-afatlittleItalianwhoreandanilliterate,unbalancedAmericanmannequin.Andthatisn'tevenmyideaofagoodtime,damnit!Whatis?Itoldyou! And meant it- sitting at home listening to Jack Benny with my kids!Raising intelligent, loving, sturdy children! Protecting some good woman!Dignity! Health! Love! Industry! Intelligence! Trust! Decency! High Spirits!Compassion! What the hell do I care about sensational sex? How can I beflounderinglikethisoversomethingsosimple,sosilly,aspussy!HowabsurdthatIshouldhavefinallycomedownwithVD!Atmyage!BecauseI'msureofit:IhavecontractedsomethingfromthatLina!Itisjustamatterofwaitingforthechancretoappear.ButIwon'twait,Ican't:InTelAvivadoctor,firstthing,beforethechancreortheblindnesssetsin!

Onlywhataboutthedeadgirlbackatthehotel?Forshewillhaveaccomplisheditbynow. I'msure.Thrownherselfoff thebalcony inherunderpants.Walkedintotheseaanddrownedherself,wearingtheworld'stiniestbikini.No,shewilltakehemlockinthemoonlitshadowsoftheAcropolis-inherBalenciagaeveninggown!Thatempty-headed,exhibitionistic,suicidaltwat!Don'tworry,whenshedoes it, it'll be photographable-it'll come out looking like an ad for ladies'lingerie!Thereshe'llbe,asusual, intheSundaymagazinesection-onlydead!I

mustturnbackbeforeIhavethisridiculoussuicideforeveronmyconscience!Ishould have telephoned Harpo! I didn't even think of it-just ran for my life.Gottenhertoaphonetotalktoherdoctor.Butwouldhehavetalked?Idoubtit!Thatmutebastard,hehasto,beforeshetakesherunreversiblerevenge!MODELSLITSTHROATINAMPHITHEATRE;MedeaInterruptedbySuicide. . .andthey'll publish the note they find, more than likely in a bottle stuffed up hersnatch.AlexanderPortnoy is responsible.He forcedme to sleepwithawhoreandthenwouldn'tmakemeanhonestwoman.MaryJaneReed.ThankGodthemoroncan'tspell!It'llallbeGreektothoseGreeks!Hopefully.

Running away! In flight, escaping again-and from what? From someone elsewhowouldhavemeasaint!WhichIain't!Anddonotwantorintendtobe!No,any guilt onmy part is comical! Iwill nothear of it! If she kills herself-Butthat'snotwhatshe'sabouttodo.No,it'llbemoreghastlythanthat:she'sgoingtotelephonetheMayor!Andthat'swhyI'mrunning!Butshewouldn't.Butshewould.Shewill!Morethanlikelyalreadyhas.Remember?I'llexposeyou,Alex.I'llcalllong-distancetoJohnLindsay.I'lltelephoneJimmyBreslin.Andsheiscrazyenoughtodoit!Breslin,thatcop!Thatprecinctstationgenius!OhJesus,letherbedead then! Jump,you ignorantdestructivebitch-betteryou thanme!Sure,allIneedissheshouldstarttelephoningaroundtothewireservices:Icanseemyfathergoingouttothecornerafterdinner,pickinguptheNewarkNews-andatlonglast,thewordSCANDALprintedinboldtypeaboveapictureofhisdarling son! Or turning on the seven o'clock news to watch the CBScorrespondent in Athens interviewing The Monkey from her hospital bed.Portnoy,that'sright.CapitalP.Then0.ThenIthinkR.Oh,Ican'trememberherest,butIswearonmywetpussy,Mr.Rudd,hemademesleepwithawhore!No,no,Iamnotexaggerating:thinkamomentaboutthecharacter,orabsenceofsame.RememberLasVegas?Rememberherdesperation?Thenyouseethatthiswasn'tjustmyconsciencepunishingme;no,whateverrevengeImightimagine,shecouldimaginetoo.Andwillyet!Believeme,wehavenotheardthelastofMary JaneReed. Iwas supposed to save her life-and didn't.Made her sleepwithwhoresinstead!Sodon'tthinkwehaveheardthelastwordfromher!

Andthere,tocausemetokickmyassevenmore,thereallbluebelowme,theAegean Sea. The Pumpkin'sAegean!My poeticAmerican girl! Sophocles!Longago!Oh,Pumpkin-baby,sayitagain,WhywouldIwanttodoathinglikethat?Someonewhoknewwhoshewas!PsychologicallysointactasnottobeinneedofsalvationorredemptionbymelNotinneedofconversiontomygloriousfaith!ThepoetrysheusedtoreadtomeatAntioch,theeducationshewasgiving

meinliterature,awholenewperspective,anunderstandingofartandtheartisticway...oh,whydidIeverlethergo!Ican'tbelieveit-becauseshewouldn'tbeJewish?Theeternalnoteofsadness-Theturbidebbandflowofhumanmisery-

Only, is this human misery? I thought it was going to be loftier! Dignifiedsuffering!Meaningful suffering- somethingperhapsalong the lineofAbrahamLincoln.Tragedy,notfarce!SomethingalittlemoreSophocleanwaswhatIhadinmind.TheGreatEmancipator,andsoon.ItsurelynevercrossedmymindthatIwouldwinduptryingtofreefrombondagenothingmorethanmyownprick.LETMYPETERGO!There,that'sPortnoy'sslogan.That'sthestoryofmylife,all summed up in four heroic dirtywords.A travesty!My politics, descendedentirely to my putz! JERK-OFF ARTISTS OF THEWORLD UNITE! YOUHAVENOTHINGTOLOSEBUTYOURBRAINS!Thefreak Iam!Loverofnooneandnothing!Unlovedandunloving!AndonthebrinkofbecomingJohnLindsay'sProfurno!

Soitseemed,anhouroutofAthens.

TelAviv, Jaffa, Jerusalem,Beer-She'va, theDeadSea,Sedom, 'EinGedi, thennorth to Caesarea, Haifa, Akko, Tiberias, Safed, the upper Galilee . . . andalwaysitismoredreamythanreal.NotthatIcourtedthesensationeither.I'dhadenoughoftheimprobablewithmycompanioninGreeceandRome.No,tomakesomesenseoutoftheimpulsethathadsentmerunningaboardtheElAlflighttobeginwith, to convertmyself from this bewildered runaway into aman onceagain-incontrolofmywill,consciousofmyintentions,doingasIwished,notasI must-I set off traveling about the country as though the trip had beenundertaken deliberately, with forethought, desire, and for praiseworthy, ifconventional, reasons.Yes, Iwouldhave (now that Iwasunaccountablyhere)whatiscalledaneducationalexperience.Iwouldimprovemyself,whichismyway,afterall.Orwas,wasn't it? Isn't thatwhyIstill readwithapencil inmyhand?Tolearn?Tobecomebetter?(thanwhom?)So,Istudiedmapsinmybed,bought historical and archeological texts and read themwithmymeals, hiredguides, rented cars-doggedly in that sweltering heat, I searched out and saweverything I could: tombs, synagogues, fortresses, mosques, shrines, harbors,ruins, thenewones, theold. Ivisited theCarmelCaves, theChagallwindows(meandahundredladiesfromtheDetroitHadassah),theHebrewUniversity,theBetShe'anexcavations- toured thegreenkibbutzirn, thebakedwastelands, theruggedborderoutpostsinthemountains;IevenclimbedalittlewaysupMasadaunder the full artillery fire of the sun. And everything I saw, I found I could

assimilate and understand. It was history, it was nature, it was art. Even theNegev,thathallucination,Iexperiencedasrealandofthisworld.Adesert.No,whatwasincredibleandstrangetome,morenovelthantheDeadSea,oreventhedramaticwildernessofTsin,whereforaneeriehourIwanderedinthelightof thebleachingsun,betweenwhite rockswhere (I learn frommyguidebook)the tribesof Israelwandered for so long (where Ipickedupasa souvenir-andhave in fact right here in my pocket-such a stone as my guide informed meZipporahusedtocircumcisethesonofMoses-)whatgavemyentiresojourntheair of the preposterous was one simple but wholly (to me) implausible fact:laminaJewishcountry.Inthiscountry,everybodyisJewish.

MydreambeginsassoonasIdisembark.IaminanairportwhereIhaveneverbeen before and all the people I see-passengers, stewardesses, ticket sellers,porters, pilots, taxi drivers-are Jews. Is that so unlike the dreams that yourdreamingpatientsrecount?Isthatsounlikethekindofexperienceonehaswhileasleep?Butawake,whoeverheardofsuchathing?ThewritingonthewallsisJewish-Jewish graffiti!The flag is Jewish.The faces are the faces you see onChancellor Avenue! The faces of my neighbors, my uncles, my teachers, theparentsofmyboyhoodfriends.Faceslikemyownface!onlymovingbeforeabackdropofwhitewallandblazingsunandspikeytropicalfoliage.Anditain'tMiamiBeach,either.No,thefacesofEasternEurope,butonlyastone'sthrowfromAfrica! In their shortpants themenremindmeof theheadcounselorsatthe Jewish summer camps Iworked at during college vacations-only this isn'tsummer camp, either. It's home!These aren'tNewarkhigh school teachers offfor twomonthswithaclipboardandawhistle in theHopatcongmountainsofNew Jersey. These are (there's no other word!) the natives. Returned! This iswhereitallbegan!Justbeenawayonalongvacation,that'sall!Hey,hereweretheWASPs!MytaxipassesthroughabigsquaresurroundedbysidewalkcaféssuchasonemightseeinParisorRome.OnlythecafésarecrowdedwithJews.The taxi overtakes a bus. I look inside itswindows.More Jews. Including thedriver.Includingthepolicemenupaheaddirectingtraffic!AtthehotelIasktheclerkforaroom.HehasathinmustacheandspeaksEnglishasthoughhewereRonaldColman.Yethe

isJewishtoo.

Andnowthedramathickens:

Itisaftermidnight.Earlierintheevening.thepromenadebesidetheseawasa

gay and lively crush of Jews- Jews eating ices, Jews drinking soda pop, Jewsconversing, laughing,walking togetherarm-in-arm.ButnowasIstartback tomyhotel,Ifindmyselfvirtuallyalone.Attheendofthepromenade,whichImustpassbeyondtoreachmyhotel,Iseefiveyouthssmokingcigarettesandtalking.Jewishyouths,ofcourse.AsIapproachthem,itbecomescleartomethattheyhavebeenanticipatingmyarrival.Oneofthemstepsforwardandaddressesmein English.What time is it? I look at my watch and realize that they are notgoingtopermitmetopass.Theyaregoingtoassaultme!Buthowcanthatbe?IftheyareJewishandIamJewish,whatmotivecantherebeforthemtodomeanyharm?

Imusttellthemthattheyaremakingamistake.Surelytheydonotreallywanttotreatmeasagangofanti-Semiteswould.Pardonme,Isay,andedgemybodybetween them,wearingasternexpressiononmypale face.Oneof themcalls,Mister,what time-?where-uponIquickenmypaceandcontinuerapidly to thehotel,unabletounderstandwhytheyshouldhavewishedtofrightenmeso,whenweareallJews.

Hardlydefiesinterpretation,wouldn'tyousay?

InmyroomIquicklyremovemytrousersandshortsandunderareadinglampexaminemypenis.Ifindtheorgantobeunblemishedandwithoutanyapparentsigns of disease, and yet I am not relieved. It may be that in certain cases(perhaps those that are actually most severe) there is never any outwardmanifestationof infection.Rather, thedebilitating effects takeplacewithin thebody, unseen and unchecked, until at last the progress of the disorder isirreversible, and thepatient is doomed. In themorning I amawakenedby thenoisefrombeyondmywindow.Itisjustseveno'clock,yetwhenIlookoutsideIsee the beachalready swarmingwith people. It is a startling sight at such anearlyhour,particularlyasthedayisSaturdayandIwasanticipatingasabbathmood of piety and solemnity to pervade the city. But the crowd of Jews-yetagain!-is gay. I examine my member in the strong morning light and am-yetagain-overcome with apprehension to discover that it appears to be in aperfectlyhealthycondition.

IleavemyroomtogoandsplashintheseawiththehappyJews.Ibathewherethe crowd is most dense. I am playing in a sea full of Jews! Frolicking,gambolingJews!Lookat theirJewishlimbsmovingthroughtheJewishwater!LookattheJewishchildrenlaughing,actingasiftheyowntheplace...Which

theydo!Andthelifeguard,yetanotherJew!Upanddownthebeach,sofarasIcansee,Jews-andmorepouringinthroughoutthebeautifulmorning,asfromacornucopia. I stretch out on the beach, I close my eyes. Overhead I hear anengine:nofear,aJewishplane.Undermethesandiswarm:Jewishsand.IbuyaJewishicecreamfromaJewishvendor.Isn'tthissomething?Isaytomyself.AJewishcountry!Buttheideaismoreeasilyexpressedthanunderstood;Icannotreallygraspholdofit.AlexinWonderland.

IntheafternoonIbefriendayoungwomanwithgreeneyesandtawnyskinwhoisalieutenantintheJewishArmy.TheLieutenanttakesmeatnighttoabarinthe harbor area. The customers, she says, are mostly longshoremen. Jewishlongshoremen?Yes. I laugh,andsheasksmewhat's so funny. Iamexcitedbyher small, voluptuous figure nipped at themiddle by thewidewebbing of herkhakibelt.Butwhatadeterminedhumorlessself-possessed little thing! Idon'tknowifshewouldallowmetoorderforherevenifIspokethelanguage.Whichdoyoulikebetter?sheasksme,aftereachofushasdownedabottleofJewishbeer,tractors,orbulldozers,ortanks?Ilaughagain.

Iaskherbacktomyhotel.Intheroomwestruggle,wekiss,webegintoundress,andpromptlyIlosemyerection.See,saysTheLieutenant,asthoughconfirmednowinhersuspicion,youdon'tlikeme.Notatall.Yes,ohyes,Ianswer,sinceIsaw you in the sea, I do, I do, you are sleek as a little seal- but then, inmyshame,baffledandundonebymydetumescence, Iburstout-but Imayhaveadisease,yousee.Itwouldn'tbefair.Doyouthinkthatisfunnytoo?shehisses,andangrilyputsheruniformbackonandleaves.

Dreams? If only theyhadbeen!But I don't needdreams,Doctor, that'swhy Ihardly have them-because I have this life instead. With me it all happens inbroad daylight! The disproportionate and the melodramatic, this is my dailybread! The coincidences of dreams, the symbols, the terrifyingly laughablesituations, the oddly ominous banalities, the accidents and humiliations, thebizarrelyappropriatestrokesofluckormisfortunethatotherpeopleexperiencewiththeireyesshut,Igetwithmineopen!Whoelsedoyouknowwhosemotheractually threatened himwith the dreaded knife?Who elsewas so lucky as tohavethethreatofcastrationsostraight-forwardlyputbyhismomma?Whoelse,ontopofthismother,hadatesticlethatwouldn'tdescend?Anutthathadtobecoaxedandcoddled,persuaded,drugged!togetittocomedownandliveinthescrotum like aman!Who else do you know broke a leg chasing shikses?Orcameinhiseyefirsttimeout?Orfoundareallivemonkeyrightinthestreetsof

NewYork,agirlwithapassionforTheBanana?Doctor,maybeotherpatientsdream-withme, everything happens. I have a lifewithout latent content. Thedreamthinghappens!Doctor: Icouldn'tget itup in theStateof Israel!How'sthat for symbolism,bubi?Let's see somebody beat that, for acting-out!CouldnotmaintainanerectioninThePromisedLand!At leastnotwhenIneededit,notwhen Iwanted it, notwhen therewas somethingmore desirable thanmyownhandtostickitinto.But,asitturnsout,youcan'tsticktapiocapuddingintoanything.TapiocapuddingIamofferingthisgirl.Wetspongecake!Athimblefulof something melted. And all the while that self-assured little lieutenant, soproudly flying those Israeli tits, prepared to be mounted by some tankcommander!

And then again, only worse. My final downfall and humiliation-Naomi, TheJewishPumpkin,TheHeroine,thathardy,red-headed,freckled,ideologicalhunkof a girl! I picked her up hitchhiking down toHaifa from a kibbutz near theLebaneseborder,whereshehadbeenvisitingherparents.Shewas twenty-oneyearsold,nearlysixfeettall,andgavetheimpressionthatshewasstillgrowing.Her parents were Zionists from Philadelphia who had come to Palestine justbefore the outbreak of World War Two. After completing her Army service,Naomi had decided not to return to the kibbutzwhere she had been born andraised, but instead to join a commune of young native-born Israelis clearingboulders of black volcanic rock from a barren settlement in the mountainsoverlooking the boundary with Syria. The work was rugged, the livingconditionswereprimitive,andtherewasalwaysthedangerofSyrianinfiltratorsslippingintotheencampmentatnight,withhandgrenadesandlandmines.Andshe loved it.Anadmirableandbravegirl!Yes,aJewishPumpkin! I ambeinggivenasecondchance.

Interesting. I associate her instantlywithmy lost Pumpkin,when in physicaltype she is, of course,mymother.Coloring, size, even temperament, it turnedout-a real fault-finder, aprofessional criticofme.Musthaveperfection inhermen.ButallthisIamblindto:theresemblancebetweenthisgirlandthepictureofmymotherinherhighschoolyearbookissomethingIdonotevensee.

Here'showunhingedandhysterical Iwas in Israel.Withinminutesofpickingherupon the road, Iwas seriously askingmyself,Whydon't Imarryher andstay?Whydon'tIgouptothatmountainandstartanewlife?

Right offwebeganmaking serious talk aboutmankind.Her conversationwas

replete with passionate slogans not unlike those of my adolescence. A justsociety.Thecommonstruggle.Individualfreedom.Asociallyproductivelife.Buthownaturallysheworeheridealism,Ithought.Yes,thiswasmykindofgirl,allright-innocent, good-hearted, zaftig, unsophisticated and unfucked-up. Ofcourse! I don't want movie stars and mannequins and whores, or anycombination thereof. I don't want a sexual extravaganza for a life, or acontinuationofthismasochisticextravaganzaI'vebeenliving,either.No,Iwantsimplicity,Iwanthealth,Iwanther!

She spoke English perfectly, if a little bookishly-just a hint of some kind ofgeneralEuropeanaccent.IkeptlookingatherforsignsoftheAmericangirlshewouldhavebeenhadherparentsneverleftPhiladelphia.Thismighthavebeenmysister,Ithink,anotherbiggirlwithhighideals.IcanevenimagineHannahhavingemigratedtoIsrael,hadshenotfoundMortytorescueher.Butwhowasthere to rescue me?My shikses?No, no, I rescue them. No, my salvation isclearlyinthisNaomi!Herhairiswornlikeachild's,intwolongbraids-aploy,ofcourse,adream-technique ifever therewasone,designed tokeepme fromrememberingoutright thathighschoolpictureofSophieGinsky,whotheboyscalledRed,whowouldgosofarwithherbigbrowneyesandhercleverhead.Inthe evening, after spending the day (at my request) showing me around theancientArabcityofAkko,Naomipinnedherbraidsupinadoublecoilaroundher head, like a grandmother, I remember thinking. How unlike my modelfriend, I think, with the wigs and the hairpieces, and the hours spent atKenneth's.Howmylifewouldchange!Anewman!-withthiswoman!

Herplanforherselfwastocampoutatnightinasleepingbag.Shewasonherweek'svacationawayfromthesettlement,travelingonthefewpoundsthatherfamilyhadbeenabletogiveherforabirthdaypresent.Themorefanaticalofherfellows,shetoldme,wouldneverhaveacceptedsuchagift,andwouldprobablydisapproveofherforfailingtodoso.Shere-createdformeadiscussionthathadraged in her parents' kibbutzwhen shewas still a little girl, over the fact thatsome people owned watches and others didn't. It was settled, after severalimpassioned meetings of the kibbutz membership, by deciding to rotate thewatcheseverythreemonths.

Duringtheday,atdinner,thenaswewalkedalongtheromanticharborwallatAkkothatnight,I toldheraboutmylife.IaskedifshewouldcomebackwithmeandhaveadrinkatmyhotelinHaifa.Shesaidshewould,shehadmuchtosay aboutmy story. Iwanted to kiss her then, but thought,What if Ido have

somekindofvenerealinfection?Istillhadn'tbeentoseeadoctor,partlybecauseof a reluctance to tell some stranger that I had had contactwith awhore, butlargelybecauseIhadnosymptomsofanykind.Clearlynothingwaswrongwithme,andIdidn'tneedadoctor.Nevertheless,whenIturnedtoaskherbacktothehotel,Iresistedanimpulsetopressmylipsagainstherpuresocialisticalmouth.

Americansociety,shesaid,droppingherknapsackandbedrollonthefloor,andcontinuingthe lectureshehadbegunaswedrovearoundthebaytoHaifa,notonly sanctions gross and unfair relations amongmen, but it encourages them.Now, can that be denied?No. Rivalry, competition, envy, jealousy, all that ismalignant inhumancharacter isnourishedby the system.Possessions,money,property-on such corrupt standards as these do you peoplemeasure happinessand success.Meanwhile, she said,perchingherself cross-leggedupon thebed,greatsegmentsofyourpopulationaredeprivedoftheminimalprerequisitesforadecent life. Is that not true, too? Because your system is basically exploitive,inherently debasing and unjust. Consequently, Alex -she used my name as asternteacherwould,therewasthethrustofadmonitioninit-therecanneverbeanything resembling genuine equality in such an environment. And that isindisputable,youcannothelpbutagree,ifyouareatallhonest.

For instance, what did you accomplish with your quiz-scandal hearings?Anything?Nothing,ifImaysayso.Youexposedthecorruptionofcertainweakindividuals.But as for the system that trained them in corruption, on that youhad not the slightest effect. The system was unshaken. The system wasuntouched.Andwhy?Because,Alex-uh-oh,hereitcomes-youareyourselfascorrupted by the system as Mr. Charles Van Horn. (By gum, still imperfect!Dang!)Youarenottheenemyofthesystem.Youarenotevenachallengetothesystem, as you seem to think. You are only one of its policemen, a paidemployee,anaccomplice.Pardonme,butImustspeakthetruth:youthinkyouserve justice,butyouareonlya lackeyof thebourgeoisie.Youhavea systeminherently exploitive and unjust, inherently cruel and inhumane, heedless ofhuman values, and your job is to make such a system appear legitimate andmoral by acting as though justice, as though human rights and human dignitycouldactuallyexistinthatsociety-whenobviouslynosuchthingispossible.

Youknow,Alex-whatnow?-youknowwhyIdon'tworryaboutwhowearsawatch, or about accepting five pounds as a gift frommy 'prosperous' parents?You know why such arguments are silly and I have no patience with them?Because I know that inherently-do you under- stand, inherently! -yes, I

understand!Englishhappens,oddlyenough,tobemymothertongue!-inherentlythesysteminwhichIparticipate(andvoluntarily,thatiscrucialtoo-voluntarily!),thatthatsystemishumaneandjust.Aslongasthecommunityownsthemeansofproduction,aslongasallneedsareprovidedbythecommunity,aslongasnomanhastheopportunitytoaccumulatewealthortoliveoffthesurplusvalueofanother man's labor, then the essential character of the kibbutz is beingmaintained.Noman iswithoutdignity. In thebroadestsense, there isequality.Andthatiswhatmattersmost.

Naomi,Iloveyou.

Shenarrowed thosewide idealisticbrowneyes.Howcanyou 'loveme?Whatareyousaying?

Iwanttomarryyou.

Boom,shejumpedtoherfeet.PitytheSyrianterroristwhotriedtotakeherbysurprise!Whatisthematterwithyou?Isthissupposedtobehumorous?

Be my wife. Mother my children. Every shtunkwith a picture window haschildren.Whynotme?Icarrythefamilyname!

Youdranktoomuchbeeratdinner.Yes,IthinkIshouldgo.

Don't!AndagaintoldthisgirlIhardlyknew,anddidn'tevenlike,howdeeplyinlovewithherIwas.Love-oh,itmakesmeshudder!-loooove,asthoughIcouldsummonforththefeelingwiththeword.

AndwhenshetriedtoleaveIblockedthedoor.Ipleadedwithhernotgooutandliedownonaclammybeachsomewhere,when therewas thisbigcomfortableHiltonbedforthetwoofustoshare.I'mnottryingtoturnyouintoabourgeois,Naomi.Ifthebedistooluxurious,wecandoitonthefloor.

Sexualintercourse?shereplied.Withyou?

Yes!Withme! Fresh frommy inherently unjust system!Me, the accomplice!Yes!ImperfectPortnoy!

Mr.Portnoy,excuseme,butbetweenyoursillyjokes,ifthatisevenwhattheyare-

HerealittlestruggletookplaceasIrushedheratthesideofthebed.Ireachedfor a breast, andwith a sharp upward snapof the skull, she buttedmeon theundersideofthejaw.

Wherethehelldidyoulearnthat,Icriedout,intheArmy?

Yes.

Icollapsedintomychair.That'ssometrainingtogivetogirls.

Doyouknow,shesaid,andwithouta traceofcharity, there issomethingverywrongwithyou.

Mytongueisbleeding,forone-!

YouarethemostunhappypersonIhaveeverknown.Youarelikeababy.

No!Notso,butshewavedasideanyexplanationImayhavehadtooffer,andbegantolecturemeonmyshortcomingsasshehadobservedthemthatday.

Thewayyoudisapproveofyourlife!Whydoyoudothat?Itisofnovalueforamantodisapproveofhislifethewaythatyoudo.Youseemtotakesomespecialpleasure,somepride,inmakingyourselfthebuttofyourownpeculiarsenseofhumor. Idon't believeyouactuallywant to improveyour life.Everythingyousay issomehowalways twisted,somewayoranother, tocomeout 'funny.'Allday long the same thing. In some littlewayorother, everything is ironical,orself-depreciating.Self-depreciating?

Self-deprecating.Self-mocking.

Exactly!Andyouareahighlyintelligentman-that iswhatmakesitevenmoredisagreeable. The contribution you could make! Such stupid self-deprecation!Howdisagreeable!

Oh, Idon'tknow, I said, self-deprecation is, after all, a classic formof Jewishhumor.

NotJewishhumor!No!Ghettohumor.

Not much love in that remark. III tell you. By dawn I had been made to

understandthatIwastheepitomeofwhatwasmostshamefulinthecultureoftheDiaspora.

Those centuries and centuries of homelessness had produced just suchdisagreeable men as myself-frightened, defensive, self-deprecating, unmannedandcorruptedbylifeintheentireworld.ItwasDiasporaJewsjustlikemyselfwhohadgoneby themillions to thegaschamberswithouteverraisingahandagainst their persecutors,who did not know enough to defend their liveswiththeirblood.TheDiaspora!Theverywordmadeherfurious.

WhenshefinishedIsaid,Wonderful.Nowlet'sfuck.

Youaredisgusting!

Right! You begin to get the point, gallant Sabra! You go be righteous in themountains,okay?Yougobeamodelformankind!FuckingHebrewsaint!

Mr.Portnoy,shesaid,raisingherknapsackfromthefloor,youarenothingbutaself-hatingJew.

Ah,butNaomi,maybethat'sthebestkind.

Coward!

Tomboy.

Shlemiel!

Andmade for the door. Only I leaped from behind, and with a flying tacklebroughtthisbigred-headeddidacticdishdownwithmeontothefloor.I'llshowher who's a shlemiel!And baby! And if I have VD? Fine! Terrific! All thebetter!Lethercarryitsecretlybackinherbloodstreamtothemountains!LetitspreadforthfromheruntoallthosebraveandvirtuousJewishboysandgirls!Adoseof clapwill do themall good!This iswhat it's like in theDiaspora,yousaintly kiddies, this is what it's like in the exile! Temptation and disgrace!Corruption and self-mockery! Self-deprecation-and self-defecation too!Whining,hysteria,compromise,confusion,disease!Yes,Naomi,Iamsoiled,oh,I am impure-andalsopretty fucking tired,mydear,ofneverbeingquitegoodenoughforTheChosenPeople!

Butwhat a battle she gaveme, this big farm cunt! this ex-G.I.! Thismother-substitute!Look,canthatbeso?Ohplease,itcan'tbeassimplisticasthat!Notme!Orwithacaselikemine,isitactuallythatyoucan'tbesimplisticenough!Because she wore red hair and freckles, this makes her, according to myunconsciousone-trackmind,mymother? Justbecause sheand the ladyofmypast are off-spring of the same pale Polish strain of Jews? This then is theculminationoftheOedipaldrama.Doctor?Morefarce,myfriend!Toomuchtoswallow. I'm afraid!Oedipus Rex is a famous tragedy, schmuck, not anotherjoke!You'reasadist,you'reaquackandalousycomedian!Imeanthisismaybegoing too far for a laugh,Doctor Spielvogel,Doctor Freud,DoctorKronkite!Howaboutalittlehomage,youbastards,toTheDignityofMan!OedipusRexisthemosthorrendousandseriousplayinthehistoryofliterature-itisnotagag!

ThankGod,atanyrate,forHeshie'sweights.Theybecamemineafterhedied.Iwouldcarrythemintothebackyard,andoutinthesunshineIwouldliftandliftand lift, backwhen Iwas fourteen and fifteen years old.You're going to giveyourself a tsura yet with those things, my mother would warn me from herbedroomwindow.You'regoingtogetacoldoutthereinthatbathingsuit.IsentawayforbookletsfromCharlesAtlasandJoeBonomo.I livedfor thesightofmytorsoswellingupinmybedroommirror.Iflexedundermyclothesinschool.Iexaminedmyforearmson thestreetcornerforbulge. Iadmiredmyveinsonthebus.Somebodysomedaywouldtakeaswingatmeandmydeltoids,andtheywouldlivetoregretit!Butnobodyswung,thankGod.

TillNaomi!For her, then, I haddone all that puffing andquiveringunder thedisapprovinggazeofmymother.Thatisn'ttosaythatshestilldidn'thaveitovermeinthecalvesandthethighs-butintheshouldersandchestIhadtheedge,andforcedherbodydownbeneathme-andshotmytongueintoherear,tastingtherethegritofourday'sjourney,allthatholysoil.Oh,Iamgoingtofuckyou,Jewgirl,Iwhisperedevilly.

Youarecrazy!andheavedupagainstmewithallherconsiderablestrength.Youarealunaticontheloose!

No,ohno,Itoldher,growlingfrommythroat,ohno,youhavegotalessontolearn, Naomi, and pressed, pressed hard, to teach my lesson: 0 you virtuousJewess, the tables are turned, tsatskeleh! You on the defensive now, Naomi-explaining your vaginal discharge to the entire kibbutz! You think they gotworkedupoverthosewatches!Wait'lltheygetawhiffofthis!WhatIwouldn't

givetobeatthatmeetingwhenyougetarraignedonthechargeofcontaminatingtheprideandfutureofZion!Thenperhapsyoullcometohave theproperawefor us fallen psychoneurotic Jewish men! Socialism exists, but so too dospirochetes, my love! So here's your introduction, dear, to the slimier side ofthings.Down,downwiththesepatriotickhakishorts,spreadyourchops,bloodofmyblood,unlockyourfortressythighs,openwidethatmessianicJewishhole!Make ready, Naomi, I am about to poison your organs of reproduction! I amabouttochangethefutureoftherace!

ButofcourseIcouldn't.Lickedherearholes,suckedatherunwashedneck,sankmy teeth into the coiled braids of hair . . . and then, even as resistancemayactuallyhavebeguntorecedeundermyassault,Irolledoffofherandcametorest,defeated,againstthewall-onmyback.It'snogood,Isaid,Ican'tgetahard-oninthisplace.

Shestoodup.Stoodoverme.Gotherwind.Lookeddown.Itoccurredtomethatshewasgoingtoplantthesoleofhersandalonmychest.Ormaybeproceedtokick the shit out ofme. I rememberedmyself as a little schoolboy pasting allthosereinforcementsintomynotebook.Howhasitcometothis?

Im-po-tentinIs-rael,dadadaaah,'tothetuneofLullabyinBirdland.

Anotherjoke?sheasked.

Andanother.Andanother.Whydisclaimmylife?

Then she said akind thing.She could afford to, of course,wayup there.Youshouldgohome.

Sure,that'swhatIneed,backintotheexile.

Andwaywayupthere,shegrinned.Thathealthy,monumentalSabra!Thework-molded legs, the utilitarian shorts, the battle-scarred buttonless blouse-thebeneficent,victorioussmile!Andathercrusty,sandaledfeet,this...thiswhat?Thisson!Thisboy!Thisbaby!AlexanderPortnoise!Portnose!Portnoy-oy-oy-oy-oy!

Lookatyou, I said,wayup there.Howbigbigwomenare!Lookatyou-howpatriotic!Youreallylikevictory,don'tyou,honey?Knowhowtotakeitinyourstride!Wow,areyouguiltless!Terrific,really-anhonortohavemetyou.Look,

takemewithyou.Heroine!Uptothemountain.I'llclearboulderstillIdrop,ifthat'swhatittakestobegood.Becausewhynotbegood,andgoodandgoodandgood-right?Liveonlyaccordingtoprinciple!Withoutcompromise!Lettheotherguy be the villain, right? Let the goyim make a shambles, let the blame fallsolelyonthem.IfIwasborntobeaustereaboutmyself,sobeit!Agruelingandgratifyingethicallife,opulentwithself-sacrifice,voluptuouswithrestraint!Ah,soundsgood.Ah, I can just taste those rocks!Whatdoyousay, takemebackwithyou-intothepurePortnovianexistence!

Youshouldgohome.

Onthecontrary!Ishouldstay.Yes,stay!Buyapairofthosekhakishortpants-becomeaman!

Doasyouwish,shesaid.Iamleavingyou.

No,Heroine,no,Icried-forIwasactuallybeginningtolikeheralittle.Oh,whatawaste.

She liked that. She looked at me very victoriously, as though I had finallyconfessed to the truthaboutmyself.Screwher. Imean,notbeingable to fuckawayatabighealthygirllikeyou.

Sheshiveredwithloathing.Tellme,please,whymustyouusethatwordallthetime?

Don'ttheboyssay'fuck'upinthemountains?

No,sheanswered,condescendingly,notthewaythatyoudo.

Well,Isaid,Isupposethey'renotasrichwithrageasIam.Withcontempt.AndIlungedforherleg.Becauseneverenough.NEVER!IhaveTOHAVE.

Buthavewhat?

No!shescreameddownatme.

Yes!

No!

Then,Ipleaded,asshebegantodragmebyherpowerfullegacrosstowardthedoor,atleastletmeeatyourpussy.IknowIcanstilldothat.

Pig!

Andkicked.Andlanded!Fullforcewiththatpioneer'sleg,justbelowtheheart.TheblowIhadbeenanglingfor?WhoknowswhatIwasupto?MaybeIwasuptonothing.MaybeIwasjustbeingmyself.Maybethat'sallIreallyam,alapperofcunt,theslavishmouthforsome

woman'shole.Eat!Andsobeit!Maybethewisestsolutionformeistoliveonallfours!Crawlthroughlifefeastingonpussy,andleavetherightingofwrongsand the fathering of families to the upright creatures!Who needsmonumentserectedinhisname,whenthereisthisbanquetwalkingthestreets?

Crawl through life then-if Ihavea life left!Myheadwentspinning, thevilestjuices rose inmy throat.Ow,myheart!And in Israel!Where other Jews findrefuge,sanctuaryandpeace,Portnoynowperishes!WhereotherJewsflourish,Inowexpire!AndallIwantedwastogivealittlepleasure-andmakealittleformyself. Why, why can I not have some pleasure without the retributionfollowing behind like a caboose! Pig?Who,me? And all at once it happensagain,Iamimpaledagainuponthelongago,whatwas,whatwillneverbe!Thedoorslams,sheisgone-mysalvation!mykin!-andIamwhimperingonthefloorwith MY MEMORIES! My endless childhood! Which I won't relinquish-orwhichwon'trelinquishme!Whichisit!Rememberingradishes-theonesIraisedsolovinglyinmyVictoryGarden.Inthatpatchofyardbe-sideourcellardoor.My kibbutz. Radishes, parsley, carrots -yes, I am a patriot too, you, only inanotherplace!(WhereIalsodon'tfeelathome!)ButthesilverfoilIcollected,how about that? The newspapers I carted to school! My booklet of defensestamps,allneatlypastedinrowssoastosmashtheAxis!Mymodelairplanes-myPiperCub,myHawkerHurricane,mySpitfire!HowcanthisbehappeningtothatgoodkidIwas,withmylovefortheR.A.F.andtheFourFreedoms!Myhope forYalta andDumbartonOaks!My prayers for theU.N.O.!Die?Why?Punishment?Forwhat?Impotent?Forwhatgoodreason?

TheMonkey'sRevenge.Ofcourse.

ALEXANDERPORTNOY,FORDEGRADINGTHEHUMANITYOFMARYJANE REED TWO NIGHTS RUNNING IN ROME, AND FOR OTHER

CRIMES TOO NUMEROUS TO MENTION INVOLVING THEEXPLOITATIONOFHERCUNT,YOUARESENTENCEDTOATERRIBLECASEOFIMPOTENCE.ENJOYYOURSELF.But,YourHonor,sheisofage,after all, a consenting adult-' DON'T BULLSHIT ME WITH LEGALISMS,PORTNOY.YOUKNEWRIGHTFROMWRONG.YOUKNEWYOUWEREDEGRADINGANOTHERHUMANBEING.ANDFORTHAT,WHATYOUDIDANDHOWYOUDIDIT,YOUAREJUSTLYSENTENCEDTOALIMPDICK.GOFINDANOTHERWAYTOHURTAPERSON.ButifImay,YourHonor,shewasperhapssomewhatdegradedbeforeImether.NeedIsaymorethan 'Las Vegas'? OH, WONDERFUL DEFENSE, JUST WONDERFUL.GUARANTEED TO SOFTEN THE COURT'S JUDGMENT. THAT'S HOWWETREATUNFORTUNATES,EH,COMMISSIONER?THAT'SGIVINGAPERSON THE OPPORTUNITY TO BE DIGNIFIED AND HUMANACCORDING TO YOUR DEFINITION? SON OF A BITCH! Your Honor,please,ifImayapproachthebench-whatafterallwasIdoingbutjusttryingtohave. . .well,what? . . .a littlefun, that'sall.OH,YOUSONOFABITCH!Well,why, damn it, cant I have some fun!Why is the smallest thing I do forpleasureimmediatelyillicit-whiletherestoftheworldrollslaughinginthemud!Pig?Sheoughttoseethechargesandcomplaintsthatarefiledinmyofficeinasinglehatred!Fordough!Forpower!For spite!Fornothing!What they put ashvartze through to get amortgage on a home!Amanwantswhatmy fatherused tocallanumbrella fora rainyday-andyouought tosee thosepigsgo towork on him!And Imean the real pigs, the pros!Who do you think got thebankstobegintorecruitNegroesandPuertoRicansforjobsinthiscity,tosendpersonnel people to interview applicants inHarlem? To do that simple thing?Thispig,lady-Portnoy!Youwant to talkpigs,comedownto theoffice, takealook throughmy In basket anymorning of theweek, I'll show you pigs! Thethingsthatothermendo-andgetawaywith!Andwithneverasecondthought!To inflict a wound upon a defenseless person makes them smile, for Christ'ssake, gives a little lift to their day! The lying, the scheming, the bribing, thethieving-thelarceny,Doctor,conductedwithoutbattinganeye.Theindifference!The total moral indifference! They don't come down from the crimes theycommitwithsomuchasacaseofindigestion!Butme,Idaretostealaslightlyunusualkindofahump,andwhileawayonmyvacation-andnowIcan'tgetitup!Imean,GodforbidIshouldtearthetagfrommymattressthatsays,DoNotRemoveUnderPenaltyofLaw-whatwouldtheygivemeforthat,thechair?Itmakesmewanttoscream,theridiculousdisproportionoftheguilt!MayI?Willthat shake them up toomuch out in thewaiting room?Because that'smaybewhatIneedmostofall,tohowl.Apurehowl,withoutanymorewordsbetween

meand it!This is thepolice speaking.You're surrounded,Portnoy.Youbettercomeonout and payyour debt to society.Up society's ass,Copper!Three tocomeoutwiththosehandsofyoursupintheair.MadDog,orelsewecomeinafteryou,gunsblazing.One.Blaze,youbastardcop,whatdoIgiveashit?Itorethetagoffmymattress-Two.-ButatleastwhileIlived,Ilivedbig!

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!

PUNCHLINE

So[saidthedoctor].NowveemayperhapstobeginYes?

eBookInfoIdentifier:

DPHFEYUWQM

Title:

Portnoy'sComplaint

Creator:

PhilipRoth

Date:

11/29/2002

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