Fiction and Poetry The Conference on NarrativeHarold Rosenberg Remembered James Farrell's ChicagoTom Wolfe's KaboomBack to Baby BooksInterview with Michael Harrington Reviews of Lessing and ArendtThe Friends of the Symphony & Music Departmentpresent the third in a seriesof five concerts featuringTheCHICAGOSYMPHONY WINDSin music ofMOZARTFRIDAY, DECEMBER 14,8:00 p.m.MANDEL HALLProgram Highlights:- Divertimenti #3 in E-fiat, K. 166#4 in B-flat, K. 186#13 in F, K, 253- Beethoven's Trio on a themefrom Don GiovanniSingle Concert Prices: General Public $6.50, Faculty/Staff $5,50,U.C. students $4.50For further information call 753-3580 or 753-2612 7Remaining Series Concert Dates: jSJanuary 19, February 22 aLovely Corner - 56th & KenwoodLovely House - central air<ys furnace, woodburningfirepl^ojv^sty & cozyLovely Space -6bedr?jms, 2Vi bathsA real “must see” - $200,000SPLASHY LOCATION - High penthouse floor overlookingpanoramic Lake Michigan view. Luxury eight room,four bath condo, includes large gallery, floor-to-ceilingteakwood study. Available for immediate closing, orcould wait until Spring. $163,500 is much less than ahouse of similar space. Near 56th Everett.JUST FINISHED! - Free standing coach house on 60" widelot, Super insulation, newly re-built brick, roof, thermo¬pane picture windows, zone heating, two ceramic tilebaths, .new kitchen. , .on and on, $95,000 Near Green¬wood & Hyde Park.Call us.For Sales Information. Call...CHARLOTTE ViKSTROM. BROKER493-0666Kathy Ballard. Sates Associate (res. 947-0453)Ken Wester. Seles Associate (res. 947-0557)/ TAKE A SEAT...WITH A ROSE...AND SAVE!The ROSE TICKET is a theatre admission ticketyou purchase in advance. It can save you up tohalf the box office price at many city theaters, in¬cluding.‘McClurg Court Theatre‘Carnegie Theatre‘Cinema Theatre‘Lakeshore Theatre‘Facets Multimedia Theatres400 Theatre‘Hyde Park Theatre‘Devon*3 Penney Theatre‘And More$2.25Available at the Reynolds Club Box Office* The Rose ticket is good at all times except Saturday evenings after 5 p.m. at these theatresROCKEFELLER MEMORIAL CHAPEL5850 South Woodlawn AvenueSundays, December 9,16,23 and 309 A.M. Ecumenical Service of Holy CommunionSundays, December 9, Second Sunday in Advent,and December 16, Convocation Sunday11 AM. University Religious ServicePronchorBERNARD O. BROWNDean of the ChapelSunday, December 9,4 P.M.J. S. Bach’sChristmas OratorioChapel box office opens at 3 p.m.2 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979THE TEXTBOOK DEPARTMENTTHE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOBOOKSTORE5750 S. ELLIS AVENUEEXTENDSBEST WISHES FOR AHAPPY HOLIDAYTO THE ENTIREUNIVERSITY COMMUNITY.BOOKS FOR MANY WINTERQUARTER CLASSES WILL BEAVAILABLE FOR SALEBEGINNINGMONDAY, DECEMBER 10.* Come in and see what we havefor your classes.•/* Shop early and avoid thequarter opening rush.TEXTBOOK DEPARTMENT UNDERNEW MANAGEMENT. The Chicago Literary ReviewI do not think a newspaper should be symmetrical, trimmed likean English lawn. Rather, it should be somewhat untamed, like a wildorchard, so that it will pulsate with life and shine with young talents.— Rosa Luxemburg©Copyright 1979 The Chicago Maroon Voi. 89 No. 26Editors: Richard Kaye. Molly McQuadeProduction and Design: Karen Hornick, Jake Levine, Leslie WickStaff: Lucy Conniff, David Ledbetter, Morgan Russell, Daniel Scott, David SkeldingContributorsJane Adams lives in Lakeside, Michigan, and has exhibited in Chicago andDetroit.Laurie Brown is a fourth-year student majoring in American history.Robert Davis was born in Oakland, Ca., and was educated at the Universi¬ties of Nevada and Chicago. He currently teaches writing at Columbia Col¬lege.Tom Dunn is a third-year English major.Stephen Gabel is a student on the Committee on Social Thought and Instruc¬tor in Liberal Arts in the University Extension. He studied with HaroldRosenberg as an undergraduate and an M.A. candidate.Ron Gagnon is not a college student.J. Grossmann has short hair.Manjula Haksar is a student in the Fine Arts program.Don Hettinga is a graduate student in English. He has previously publishedin The Reader and The South Dakota Review.George Hoffman is a second-year student interested in writing.Rory McGahan is a third-year student in philosophy.Claudia Magat is a fourth-year anthropology student.Jeffrey Makos is an English major.Roger Michener is on the Committe on Social Thought.Sydney Miller is a product of the College. She is currently enduring businessschool.Bill Monroe is a graduate student in the English department and editor-electof The Chicago Review, a literary journal which is not associated with TheChicago Literary Review or the University of Chicago Press, but which isavailable in bookstores and by subscription.Ted O'Neill will soon join the faculty of The New School for Social Researchin New York.John Rossheim is a fourth-year English major.Morgan Russell, sometime denizen of North Beach (San Francisco), is kindto animals, even poets.Richard Schwartz is an assistant professor of English at Florida international University. He received his PhD. at Chicago in 1977.Ken Wissoker is a bookseller.Special thanks are due to Susanne Ghez, director of the Renaissance Society, and toDavid Miller, grey city journal editor, for their help in preparing the autumn 1979Chicago Literary Review.This is the last publication of The Chicago Maroon of the Quarter. Publication willresume on January 11, 1980. Editorial and business offices are located in Ida NoyesHall, 1212 E. 59th Street, Chicago 60637. Phone: 753 3263. Advertising rates upon request. Subscriptions available at 12 dollars a year.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 3James Farrell’s ChicagoJames Farrell, 1904-79by Ted O'NeillHe halted by the snow-banked walkof the campus which led away fromthe circle toward Cobb Hall. What adismal day. A black, low sky. Cloudsthat seemed to have been smearedwith dust. Students passing him,heedless of him. The world heedlessof him, not knowing who he was,what he was, and not caring. Thepurposeless, the godless world, a gi¬gantic machine that had thrownman, descendant of an ape, willynilly into life, to build all his emptydreams, to strive and to suffer,above all to suffer in a bloody centu¬ry that had succeeded other cen¬turies. But he had snatched a pur¬pose out of this world. He seethedwith emotional excitement. Histhroat choked. Tears almost came tohis eyes. He was moved to the depthsof his being. No power on this earthwould stop him from writing. Per¬haps he would be a failure. Succeedor fail, he had found his arms now,and he would use them. This was avow. A vow to whom? A vow whichDanny O'Neill, having no gods,made to Danny O'Neill.from My Days of Anger,by James T. Farrell (1943)Those words come near the end of theconcluding novel in a five-book series onthe early life of Danny O'Neill, who wasJames T. Farrell. If this is a Chicago Irish¬man's version of A Portrait of the Artist asa Young Man, Farrell doesn't allow him¬self the luxury of stylistic self-conscious¬ness, nor does he allow Danny the privi¬lege of ending his story as Stephen's ends.Instead of giving Danny time to prove,after more than one thousand pages of em¬barrassment, self-pity, and confusion, thathis inspiration is genuine and that he isworthy of it, Farrell humiliates him again.Sitting in Hutchinson Commons, Danny isasked by a friend what he thinks ofUlysses."It's a masterpiece. And don't youlike that wonderful scene whenJoyce describes himself as a youngman, refusing to pray when hismother was dying?'' Danny said."But was that kind?" Jim asked."What has kindness to do with conviction?" Danny retorted.Within pages, the young atheist/socialistis on his knees at his grandmother'sdeathbed.We would feel little hope for Danny atthe end of the book, as he prepares to hitch¬hike to New York to start his life as a writ¬er, if we didn't know that Farrell himselfwithdrew from the College, hitchhiked to New York, and finished a story called"Studs," first written for a compositioncourse here, which would finally grow tobecome the Studs Lonigan trilogy. Awk¬ward, didactic, belligerent — tough on hisreaders, his characters and himself —Farrell didn't let up as he wrote more thanseventy books in the next fifty years. Whenhe died this past summer he was remem¬bered by literary friends and enemies assomeone who kept to his convictions andremembered to be kind — a rare combina¬ tion of qualities in a fervent sectarian, inthose days of exotic left-wing politics.His tendency to repeat the same stories— so many books made with the sameemotions, the same characters merelyrenamed, the same concerns — suggestfailing inspiration and doggedness beyondreason. But in those eight novels about'Studs and Danny, Farrell got something sobitterly right that it is worthwhile to con¬sider the sources of some of the pleasurethese books provide. In my first quarter at the University ofChicago, I studied Victorian novels with avisiting professor from England. Duringeach class we would discuss a differentnovel — Vanity Fair on Monday, PickwickPapers on Wednesday, Bleak House onFriday. I was overwhelmed and, like mostnew graduate students, felt I was to blame.When I went in to see the man about apaper topic (on the Tuesday between Dombey and Son and Middlemarch) I men¬tioned the fact that we were travellingthrough the nineteenth century prettyquickly. He was surprised that I hadn'tread the books before — or had them readto me as a boy. When he asked me what Ihad read, I said I had read a lot of Ameri¬can novels. He thought that was a pity, buthe admitted that he had heard that Hawth¬orne was rather good. When I was trying toexplain to my father the misery of thatfirst quarter I told him that story and hesaid, "I bet he's never even heard of Far¬rell."Farrell was my father's favorite author— in part, without apologies, because theywere both Irish and grew up on the SouthSide of Chicago at the same time. Theywere also both life-long White Sox fans.(You can only be sure Farrell will havewritten with either humor or unguardedsentimentality when he wrote about theWhite Sox, which he did often. He alwaysbelieved, as did my father, that ShoelessJoe Jackson was the best ballplayer thatever lived. Did a generation of Chicagoboys grow up marked by the Black Soxscandal of 1919? See Nelson Algren's sto*"v"Ballet for an Opening Day — 'The Swedewas a Hard Guy'" for evidence.) Who canblame my father for having appreciatedthe man who made his neighborhood comeback to life — for him, and for those outsiders who would never know or care about itwithout Farrell? And that appreciationwas transferred to me. Even though thecity, the Church, and the Irish were treated with unrelenting hostility, Farrell wasone of our own.Studs Lonigan lived the last years of hisshot life obsessed with thoughts of the waythings used to be before the neighborhoodchanged, when he was still healthy andstill tough. Nevertheless, Farrell doesn'tlet us forget for a moment that Studs wasconfused, self-pitying, and self-deceivingin his nostalgia. Yet, part of the appeal ofhis books is that they inspire yearnings inus for the way things used to be. Great tenderness is hidden under all that bitternessof his.Anyone who knows this city knows thatfew Chicagoans escape nostalgia — anurge to return to a time when Chicago wasthe roughest and the fastest-growingtown.No matter how the place knocks youcontinued on page 14Letter to CarlCarl, the snow’s coming down and I’m grateful. Hunting PheasantWinter brings Michigan closer to Montana.All’s white and blurred and driving to the clinic, In wintered fieldI could be driving into Bozeman. 8 a.m. Hard-furrowed with cut corn,Trout for breakfast. Coming in, I hunt with a young cocker.I saw three elk along the road. There is much he doesn’t knowSometimes I think I’m losing it, Carl. About the ways of birds.I look in the mirror and run fingers long He runs down a smellThrough my hair like a schizophrenic Not seeing the arrogant cockI work with does. Strutting ahead ready to fly.On these nights reality slides. No, nose to the ground,Oh, yes, I’m grateful for the snow. He tumbles over a cob,In evening small things thwart madness — Barks at where the birds body had been.Tarring skiis, filling gouges, melting wax. Heart-stop, then beat of wings!And then outside the snow is blue, A feather laughs down.Glistening under moon and drifting The pheasant cackles acrossFrom the west with the ghosts of coyote howls. The field and into the trees —Best, Don. 0, I believe in love!— Don Hettinga — Don Hettinga4 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979c _ vc°,‘ ^,1 rInto the OzoneThe Right Stuffby Tom WolfeFarrar, Straus GirouxBy Jeffrey MakosKABOOM! . . . Sentences rip from theprinted page, embedding themselves inyour frontal lobes like runaway Redstonerockets cranked up on a fast-burningliquid oxygen overdose, searing throughyour cerebral cortex and down yourspine, riveting you to your seat like anastronaut wired for sound and sensationand speed yet somehow out of control . . .but enjoying it! . . . Mission Control!Mission control! Am trapped by syntaxand tossed by structure, am absorbed bystyle and have lost track of time. . . but itfeels so good ... as you happily drift outof contact with Earth and get lost in auniverse of pages. This is what it is likewl^en you read Tom Wolfe.Master of metaphor and elegantellipsis, Wolfe has been for the last tenyears the leading proponent andexemplar of what was known as the NewJournalism. Back in the days beforeWoodward and Bernstein made"investigative journalism" all the rageamong the current breed of reporters,writers like Jimmy Breslin, Gay Talese,and especially Tom Wolfe developed inthe pages of Esquire and elsewhere astyle of reporting that stressed the"style" as much as the "report." InWolfe's case the two were identical.New Journalists took as the stuff oftheir writing the cultural explosion whichwas "the Sixties," from McLuhan to theMafia, from the Merry Pranksters to theBlack Panthers. But the social milieu ofpost-war America was described anddissected not merely by using standardtools of traditional reporting — theinverted pyramid lead, the five W's —but by using every novelistic trick anddevice and alliterative metaphor,twisting them all into the service ofdetailing life as it was evolving,expanding, exploding, even ... so a littleKABOOM! now and then was only a partof using style to capture the essence ofsubject matter. This type of "features"writing has become so much a part ofcurrent newspapers and magazines thatit is hard to imagine how innovative thenew writing seemed at the time(although New Journalists were merelydoing what 19th century novelists ofSocial Realism had done before). TomWolfe's first book of essays in 1965, TheKandy Kolored Tangerine FlakeStreamline Baby, practically defined theform.With the eye of a sociologist and thetraining of an ace reporter, Wolfe ranwild on the printed page. He drove youcrazy with sounds and surprises ofsyntax and this propensity to pause. . .like this. . . endlessly. . . deliriously. . . ashe propelled you forward into his socialobservations and criticisms, slashing hisway through the cultural morass of thePhil Spectorized Sixties all in the serviceof Social Realism. Using bizarrestretches of sentence structure andoffhand onomatopoeia to get to the heartsof his subjects, Wolfe adjusted — as wellas accelerated — his writing style to therhythm and pulse of each and everysituation.Murray the K, Cassius Clay, Surfers,Greasers, everybody who made a claimto immortality through outre activity wastarget for Wolfe's roving pen; eachsubject influenced the style in which itwas presented, with Wolfe developing asa cogent social analyst in early essaysthat stylistically approximate the wildand garish lives of his subjects. In hisfirst full-length book, The ElectricKool Aid Acid Test he tried to create aliterary equivalent to the psychedeliclight show acid freakout, with superbresults. Since then, Wolfe has developedeven further as a writer with style, Tom Wolfegrace, and wit, and his new book TheRight Stuff shows him moving into theEighties in better shape than ever.The Right Stuff is the story of theMercury Seven Astronauts, the first menin the first wave of America's "spacerace" against the dreaded Russians andtheir envied Sputniks. Wolfe alwaysseems to be writing about astronauts. Hisfirst book described the antics of Keseyand his Merry Pranksters, thoseexplorers of the inner mind whose fuelwas LSD; later essays have detailedadventures into the unknown wilds ofradical Chic, Funky Chic, and beyond.Still his subjects sometimes seem to be abit out there for Wolfe's own tastes. Hepresents them with no small amount ofwonder, as if appalled by theimplications that their explorations havefor modern culture, yet fascinated all thesame. The Mercury Seven, however, aswell as all fighter pilots, earn Wolfe's fullempathy and admiration.During his research on the book, begunin 1973, Wolfe came across a studyshowing that a twenty-year Navy pilothad a 23 percent chance of dying in theline of duty, not counting combat, and a56 percent chance of ejection, whichinvolves being exploded out of a plane'scockpit by a nitroglycerin charge andwhich can take away an arm, a leg, or alife in the process. Faced with thisastounding average, and fascinated bywhy someone would risk his life againstthese odds, Wolfe discovered duringinterviews with over thirty pilots andastronauts an unspoken code underlyingeven their smallest actions. This was the"ineffable quality" of the Right Stuffitself: a noble spirit and sense of "manlycourage" investing the pilots' actionswith a meaning far beyond a simpledemonstration of macho power.As to just what this ineffable qualitywas . . . well, it obviously involvedbravery. But it was not bravery inthe simple sense of being willing torisk your life. The idea seemed to bethat any fool could do that, if thatwas all that was required, just asany fool could throw away his life inthe process. No, the idea here (in theall-enclosing fraternity) seemed tobe that a man should have the abilityto go up in a hurtling piece ofmachinery and put his hide on theline and then have the moxie, thereflexes, the experience, thecoolness, to pull it back in the lastyawning moment — and then to goup the next day, and every day, evenif the series should prove infinite —and ultimately, in its best expression, do so in a cause that meanssomething to thousands, to a people,a nation, to humanity, to God.This unspoken code is at the heart of theevents and conflicts in the book, it is thesecret that Wolfe reveals behind everyaction.Wolfe presents an insider's view of the space program's development, from itsroots in experimental plane testing atEdwards Air Force Base, through theselection and training of the astronauts,to a finely detailed description of theseven different Mercury flights. Themajor conflict in the book concerns thenew astronauts and their peers atEdwards, who looked down on the NASAprograms. The men at Edwardsconsidered themselves pilots, with thefull ability to fly rocket planes like theX-l and X-15, while the astronauts wereto be more than trained monkeys, doingthe bidding of scientists and engineerswithout control of their craft. This lack ofcontrol was totally against the code ofRight Stuff, which was based on therigorous testing of a pilot's ability tohandle pressure while alone in flight, andwhich was scrupulously observed byothers in the flight community:the idea was to prove at every foot ofthe way up that pyramid that youwere one of the elected and anointedones who had the right stuff andcould move higher and higher andeven — ultimately, God willing, oneday — that you might be able to jointhat special few at the very top. . .the very Brotherhood of the RightStuff itself.The Mercury Seven, chosen from theranks of fighter pilots, are shown to bekeenly aware of the obstacles in theirascent of the Right Stuff pyramid asastronauts, restricted by the NASAtechnocrats. Their attempts to modify theinitial Mercury plans and allowthemselves more leverage as pilots isshown to be more than mere ego, but asimportant and valiant attempt totranspose the values of the Right Stuffinto the realm of a new technologicalsystem. Wolfe is never better than whenhe is describing social history at work,and here he deftly explicates the intricateconnection between a subtle inner codeknown only to a few and its effects withinan entire scientific system. Theastronauts gain more control as pilots oftheir spacecrafts — gaining a greaterability to directly control the capsule'smovements and to manually operateautomatic systems in case ofemergencies — setting a precedent whichshapes the relationship betweenspaceman and scientist for the rest of thespace program.In fact, the presence of this newtechnology soon relegates the Edwardspilots to secondary importance within theflight hierarchy. Not only do the pressand public boost the astronauts to the topof the Right Stuff ziggurat by makingthem national heroes, but the newtraining programs developed by NASAprove to be some of the hardest tests ofRighteous Stuff yet devised by man. Thisis the second conflict in the book,between the astronauts and thetechnology itself. Throughout hisdescriptions of their grueling training,Wolfe continues to remind us that theastronauts are aware that they are in anew phase of proving their Stuff, a phasenever before seen by pilots. The battle ofman versus machine is shown to beintensified, not enervated, by the shift from planes to spaceships.At this point, Wolfe treats us to adetailed look at the machineryencountered by the seven at every step inthe program. We are deluged with dataabout how things work. We are takeninside initial rocket flights, into thesimulated space flights, inside thecapsule itself and through space, all witha running commentary about what ismechanically going on around and insidethe astronauts. Wolfe masters anenormous amount of technical data,making it accessible and interesting, buthe never lets it stand alone, using itinstead as an essential only in terms ofour understanding of the Right Stuff.Wolfe always keeps to his true subject.It is always the Seven and theirawareness of their Stuff, always themanner in which they calmly proceedabout their extraordinary work, thatWolfe is primarily concerned with, neverthe amazing technology that surroundsthem. They maintain their dignity andrighteous stuff in the face of their newexperiences. Wolfe's obvious empathyand admiration, however, does not keephim from presenting his subjects asfull-bodied individuals. With love andcare — almost in honor of them — Wolfedeals with their marital conflicts, withtheir involvement with Cape Canaveralgroupies, with the bickering amongastronauts, and above all with theimmense egos behind each one of theastronauts, a human dimension lost inthe history books. The Seven revealthemselves to be unique and gutsycharacters behind the sanitized imagescarefully conveyed to the public byNASA. From John Glenn's attempts toenforce his stern morality onto his"flying and drinking, drinking anddriving" associates, to Al Shepard andhis dual personality of the IcyCommander and good old Smilin' Al, weare never in the realm of a lacklusternon-fiction "report."The KABOOM! style of writing,is tempered here, making The Right StuffWolfe's most solid piece of extendedwriting. Because the astronauts do notseem as weird to Wolfe as do his othersubjects, he does not need to resort tothe weird in order to write about them.Wolfe seems comfortable with hissubjects, almost in awe — something thatWolfe rarely is when casting his wizardeye on the culture around him — andwhile he never fawns, his admirationcreates a certain calm. . . calm forWolfe, at any rate. It is as if he is saying,"Look, these people seem utterlyordinary, almost faceless, and yet areentirely superhuman." The exterior calmof the astronauts, coupled with the furyof their righteous stuff, is matched by thestyle of the book, which continuallymaintains a certain reserve while alwaysimplying: "This is amazing stuff!"This is not to say that the book is tame.There are many moments of grandWolfean excess, entire sections where thesubject matter is almost overwhelmed bysheer surges of style. But the bookremains graceful while sustaining thisenergy, informative without resorting toactual excess. Its strong and even paceproves that Wolfe can sustain hisexuberant writing while examining acomplex subject, and without resorting tohis old tricks. Wolfe's style of NewJournalism has matured, and The RightStuff is an example of subject matter andstyle perfectly in tune with one another.Illuminating a dim corner of the recentpast, Wolfe invests the astronauts andpilots with a power and grandeur onlyknown previously to those within theTrue Brdtherhood of the Right Stuff, andfor this we can all be grateful.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 5Michael Denneny:An InterviewMichael Denneny, a graduate of the Col¬lege and a former student on the Commit¬tee on Social Thought, was in Chicago re¬cently and spoke to the Literary Review.Denneny recently contributed to HannahArendt: The Recovery of the Public World,a collection of essays on Arendt (see ac¬companying review). Denneny also re¬cently authored Lovers; The Story of TwoMen (Avon Books), a book of interviewswith a gay couple, and is a founder and edi¬tor at Christopher Street Magazine, a NewYork gay magazine. An editor at St. Mar¬tin's Press where he publishes a number ofnew gay titles, Denneny spoke of hisformer teachers, M'rc’i Ro r.l rj andHannah Arendt. his own work on Lovers,and his experience at the University wherehe spent eleven years as a student, instruc¬tor, and editor at The University of Chica¬go Press.CLR: What was it like being a student hereat Chicago for eleven years?Denneny: On the whole I had a very goodtime, although a lot of my friends did not. Ihad time here to do nothing but read booksand to argue with my friends, which waswonderful and, in retrospect, very usefulfor me when I left •CLR: And being gay here in those years?Denneny: Being gay here was no picnic. Infact, one reason I left was that I found italmost impossible to be in the community.I don't know if it has changed, but I foundHyde Park's liberal attitude towards beinggay to be a perfect example of Marcuse'sidea of repressive tolerance. It's a very tol¬erant society here, all right, but peoplesimply did not notice if you were gay.When Marcuse first came up with his ideaof repressive tolerance I thought he wasfull of shit. After all, the bayonets were outat • the Pentagon and protesters weregetting beaten up. But in gay politics thatconcept is very useful. There's a way liber¬al people will not notice one is gay or thinkit an unimportant aspect of one's life thatis part of the liberal's way of saying,"That's your private life, it doesn't inter¬est me at all." In practice, what it meansis "Let's all act straight and what you do inthe bedroom is your own business." It's aposition identical to that of Anita Bryant.Liberals tend to get awfully upset if onetries to make an issue of being gay or if onesays being gay is an important part ofone's life.CLR: Was the University as intellectuallyexciting in the early sixties as we're told itwas? Supposedly there was a good deal ofdiscussion.Denneny: There was actually a largenumber of students who were really excit¬ed about ideas. And of course we all readthe same books, which was helpful. Therewere two years of general education andthat gave a certain intellectual basis to ourdiscussions — everyone read Durkheim,everyone took Western civilization. Whena new book came out everybody read it.When a new book by Marcuse came out,people would read it very fast, or when anew book by Goffman — who was consi¬dered very exciting then — came out, peo¬ple tended to read it very rapidly. WhenMcLuhan had a new book out, everyone oncampus was reading and discussing it.CLR: You said earlier that you and yourfriends on campus had always been politi¬cally active, whether it was in the CivilRights protests or in the war protests. Wasthere a dichotomy then — as there seemsto be now — between those who are activepolitically and those who are interested inan intellectual life, in ideas?Denneny: No, not at all. It was assumedthen that one would do a certain amount ofpolitics, whether it was in the Civil Rightsmovement or the Free Speech movementor the anti-war movement. There becamethat dichotomy after 1968, and '68 was sortof the peak of a lot of activity. A number ofpeople who had been here straightthrought the sixties became Weathermenand went underground. There became asharp division between those who went underground to become radical terrorists and people like myself and my friends whowouldn't do that. And we became apoliti¬cal on the whole after '68 or '69. Thereseemed no place to go. It was clear to methat the revolution wasn't around thecorner, as some of my friends thought itwas. Electoral politics wasn't helping tostop the war, and nor was any other type ofpolitics. I had spent almost the entire yearof 1968 doing political organizing and thatand all our other work culminated in theConvention, which was a shambles. Politi¬cal activism did some good things, but itdid seem to lead to a dead end.CLR: What made you interested in theCommittee on Social Thought, which youjoined as a student?Denneny: I got interested in the Commit¬tee because it had some of the most excit¬ing classes. By accident, I took a class with— I believe it was Jamie Redfield — onfifth century Athenian democracy in mysecond year of the College. The class wasway above my head, but most of the stu¬dents in the class — people on the Commit¬tee — met after class in the C Shop, and itwas there that I was able to understand allthat had gone over my head before. Thesefour or five older students more or lessadopted me for what became a kind of spe¬cial tutorial. I discovered them to be themost interesting people I'd met oncampus.CLR: And then when you were on the Com¬mittee yourself, you had both Harold Ro¬senberg and Hannah Arendt for teachers.Denneny: Yes, and the great luck of hav¬ing both Arendt and Rosenberg at thesame time, which was sheer dumb luck,was that it helped to solve a problem I'dalways had at the University. My majorHarold Rosenbergproblem with the University was thaMtwas always hard to deal with the rel^j^^ship between ideas and reality.learned how to manipulate ideas extreme¬ly well, how to read texts very well, but theprecise connection of that with realityalways eluded me. I recognized very rapidly that this was something both Arendtand Rosenberg were extremely good at —connecting the two. A lot of other people Istudied with who had very brilliant mindscouldn't do this. But both Arendt and Ro¬senberg, in different ways, showed how toput the mind to use in confronting, discuss¬ing, and dealing with very substantialthings going on in the world.CLR: And yet a quote of which was chosento stand on the back cover of HannahArendt: The Recovery of the Public Worldis one where she speaks of being someoneinterested in "understanding" rather than"doing" or "acting".Denneny: But she knew the relationshipbetween ideas and reality. I'm not sayingthat connecting the two means being a po¬litical activist. Technically, connecting thetwo means having judgment. Judgment is where you combine the particular and theuniversal, the concept and the phenomenon. In traditional philosophy the facultythat brings the particular and the univer¬sal together is judgment. It's a facultywhich universities are notoriously weakon. Arendt and Rosenberg — both of whomhad an enormous amount of common sense— were quite strong on it.CLR: Whatever people remember ofArendt, they'll always recall the great riftbetween her and the Jewish communityafter the publication of Eichmann in Jeru¬salem. How do you think that book standsup now, and how did the rift affect Arendt?Ron Feldman, in his introduction to TheJew as Pariah, claimed she was subjectedto a "modern of excommunication fromthe Jewish community."Denneny: Well, the first thing you have totake into account which most people don'tis that between 1933 and 1951 everythingshe wrote had to do with the situation of theJew in the modern world, from her firstbook to all the articles she wrote in thethirties and forties straight up to The Ori¬gins of Totalitarianism. She also workedfull-time for the Zionists. She worked forthe Zionists in Germany and was arrestedby the Gestapo in 1933. Sheworked as Secretary general of YouthAliya in the thirties in Paris. Ron Feldmanclaims in his introduction that all ofArendt's later work grew out of her con¬cern with the Jewish question, and I thinkhe's absolutely right. And I think she'll godown as the preeminent Jewish thinker ofthe twentieth century. I think she's essen¬tially a Jewish thinker. It's very importantto understand that in the context of the ex¬traordinary reaction after the publicationof the Eichmann book. She was extremelyhurt by that reaction. People talked abouther after that book's publication as if shewere an assimilated German Jew who wasinvolved with Judaism. This is absolutelyuntrue. She was probably the only studentof Jaspars and Heidegger who spenttwenty years writing about the Jewishquestion. She was extremely bitter aboutthe furor surrounding the book. She lostmany, many friends. She was embitteredby the controversy, and she was shockedby it.CLR: And of course she felt totally misun¬derstood.Denneny: Yes, she felt misunderstood. Shealso asserted, and I think it was true, thatthere was a conscious campaign of vinifi¬cation which was probably directly initiat¬ed by Ben-Gurion. I think the book will lastremarkably well. One must rememberthat the book's subtitle, "A Report on theBanality of Evil", was meant so that "theBanality of Evil" served as a phrase, not aconcept. She pointed that out in the book.CLR: How did Eichmann in Jerusalem fitin with the rest of her thought and writ¬ings?Denneny: Arendt had been one of the firstpeople to try to face and deal with totali¬tarianism, and she had worked out atheory, which she shared with Jaspars andsome other people, called "radical evil",which accounted for some of the astound¬ing scenes at Auschwitz and elsewhere.When she went to Jerusalem to cover theEichmann trial for The New Yorker sherethought that position. She no longer be¬lieved in that idea of radical evil. In fact,that gave her a jolt which directed herthinking until the end of her life. Becausepreviously all of her work had been politi¬cal thinking. She had tried to understandhow, politically, such a thing as totalitari¬anism could exist. Eichmann forced her totry to confront the problem of how it couldexist morally. Her last work, The Life ofthe Mind, which consists of Thinking, Willing, and Judging (the last of which wasnever written) is a direct outgrowth of herreexamination of all her traditional ideasafter seeing the Eichmann trial.CLR: Harold Rosenberg was another ofyour teachers here. It has always struckme as curious that he never quite receivedthe respect one would have expected himto get from academics of art and art histo¬ ry. I understand there were professorswho found him too popular — he had toomany articles in Vogue magazine, etc.Denneny: Both Arendt and Rosenbergwere in a fairly odd position at the Univer¬sity. They received a kind of grudging re¬spect so long as they were in somebodyelse's department. Political scientiststhought Arendt's essays on literature wereterrific, but they didn't like her politicalscience. Academic art critics denied thatHarold even was an art critic. John Rus¬sell, in the New York Times after Harold'sdeath, wrote that Harold wasn't an artcritic when compared to someone likeMeyer Shapiro. Interestingly, Meyer Sha-pircwhcml met with the day after that appeared, said that Russell's claim was totalhogwash, and that Harold Rosenberg hadbeen the best art critic of his day. WhatArendt and Rosenberg had in common wasthat they were both individual thinkers,they thought things out for themselves.They did not belong to a discipline. Thatalways happens with individual thinkers —they're never accepted by the disciplinesthat they're in. No doubt Montesquieuwould not be considered an acceptable po¬litical scientist today, and certainly Ma-chiavelli wouldn't be. Can you imagine aphilosophy department appointingNeitzsche?CLR: What would you say was Rosen¬berg's idea of what an art critic should be?There are a number of people who claimthat Rosenberg's position as a friend of theartists he criticized was a dubious positionfor a critic to be in. That Rosenberg simplyreported the theories of painters. Thenthere's Tom Wolfe's argument — that theartists were illustrating Rosenberg'stheories.Denneny: In Harold's view, the function ofthe critic is to make a creative, intellectualresponse to the significant things that arehappening in the art world. The critic's jobis to improve the intellectual atmospherein which wroks of art were created. It isnot to grade artists, or to pick winners, orto say "This is the wave of the future" or"This is who inherits the mantle of mod¬ernism today." To him that was art worldpromotion. Harold believed in the value ofgood talk, and believed very good talkwould improve the atmosphere for appre¬ciating and creating art.Tom Wolfe's book was a very cleveressay. It was also very tinny and it camefrom a person, as Wolfe himself admitted,who never had appreciated de Kooning,Rothko, or any of the other artists. It reallywas a reflection of Tom Wolfe. Wolfe foundHarold's ideas utterly fascinating, butwhen he went to look at a Pollack it madeno sense to him. He never responded to theart, only to the ideas. The essay The Paint¬ed Word is simply a projection of his owninterests. Wolfe is someone uninterested inmodern art — Abstract Expressionismwas not a meaningful experience for him.The intellectual talk about Abstract Ex¬pressionism was. He thought that was theonly thing that was valid. I think that's anextraordinarily silly position, but then Ithink de Kooning is one of the greatestartistsof the twentieth century, and it'shard for me to understand that someonecould look at those paintings and not knowthat.CLR: But what about Wolfe's theory thatAbstract Expressionism was dictated byRosenberg's criticism? Isn't that pointunrelated to Wolfe's insentitivity to mod¬ern art? Or do you think Wolfe's claim tobe just crap?Denpeny: Yes, I do. Just ask the artists,they're still around. You could ask SaulSteinberg, you could ask de Kooning, youcould ask any number of them. In the Six¬ties, art historical critics did dictate to ar¬tists what their art should be. And thosewere critics who mainly came out of theschool of Clement Greenberg, critics whopushed minimalism — Noland, Olitsky,Stella, and other minimalists. In factHarold had spent a great deal of the Sixtiesattacking them, whcmhe thought werecontinued on page 146 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979Doris Lessing’s ShikastaShikastaby Doris LessingKnopfby Ken WissokerI value Doris Lessing above almost anywriter, because she puts theunarticulated truths of our lives intowords; she names what is unvoiced yetuniversal. And so, though never set inparticularly familiar surroundings, herfiction reaches us intimately. Lessingwrites, I think, less to create fiction thanto instruct readers. This is not to say herbooks are not fanciful; in fact, they havebecome more and more so. Shikasta ismore ambitiously imaginative than itspredecessors, in many of itspresumptions and techniques. YetShikasta is among her most cannilyaimed books — ranking with The GoldenNotebook and The Four Gated City.Lessing makes observations oninterplanetary and human affairs,suggesting how wasteful our presentmode of living will become when theartificial structure of "needs" and"desires" collapses. (We will realize howextravagantly some of us live, whileothers starve. Lessing draws on thistheme in Memoirs of a Survivor, aswell.) She also launches her speculationsinto the future.The world which she constructsconsists of three galactic empires:Canopus, the empire which first takes aninterest in developing earth, calledRohanda, "the blessed one," saving itafter it becomes Shikasta, "the hurt, thedamaged, the wounded one"; her Sirianallies; and Shammat, the enemy whichflourishes on destruction and greed.The novel purports to be a selectionfrom the Canopean archives. The firstthird concerns the evolution of earth,including our own "century ofdestruction." As humans begin todevelop, Canopus "locks" earth into itsgalactic harmonies. Natives, and giantsintroduced from another planet, coexistproductively in symmetrical cities,surrounded by gardens, and live inharmony with the animals around them.When the stellar order shifts, the lock isbroken — the great cities fall into ruin,the giants disperse, and Shammat growsfat as there is less and less "we feeling"to go around.The chronology of the history of theworld, set in these cosmic orders,resembles the general structure set out inthe Bible (or in Hesiod, for that matter).Humans evolve from a utopian existenceto a divisive and difficult one. Averagelifespan shortens, as the quality of lifedeclines. A flood devastates much of theearth. Shikasta attempts to answer a questioncompellingly raised in Memoirs of aSurvivor, and suggested in Lessing'sother works as well. It is, why don'thuman ideals substantially affect humanreality? What interferes with our effortsto improve our lives? In Memoirs of aSurvivor, Lessing describes whatNovelist Doris Lessinghappens when everyone is caught by thesame terror. They only need say to eachother, "'It' has gotten worse than the daybefore," for people to recognize the "it"and begin to subvert it. Shikasta tries toS define a new "it" by creating the kinds of; conditions which could be imagined toI cause "it." Lessing says she continues to writeabout the fantastic because what wereonce semi-fabulous predictions about thebreakdown of society now seem distinctlypossible. The world economic situationwith its cartels and extranational forces,has gathered out of hand in a new way;the breakdown of essential powersupplies, with subsequentdecentralization and widespreadanarchy, seems now not at all unlikely.As the Third World challenges Westerncontrol over the world's procedures andI resources, what she predicts in ShikastaI (including a Chinese takeover of Europe,I and nuclear war), seems convincing. Doris Lessing also writes of thegeneration gap as a twentieth-centuryphenomenon. According to her, peopleonce looked forward to living forhundreds of years, and they lived inharmony with their parents. Now,mortality seems a more urgent issue;people feel keenly aware that time mustnot be wasted. They try to tell this to theyoung, who will not listen, and who mustlearn for themselves in order to bethemselves. This is the paradox withwhich they are entangled.Perhaps Lessing feels both her age andthe universe's. Neither one can claim anindefinitely long lifespan. After years ofexploring contradictions, ofdemonstrating subtle points in oblique orfantastic ways, she now sees how littletime may be left to her and to the world.She must stand outside us, describingwhat is happening in an objective way.We read report after report on ourhistory from the Canopean archives,detailed accounts of the culpability of thewhite race for exploiting the earth, forindulging in political behavior, forseeking out religion as solace. Thereshould be no missing the point.At the end of the book — after aholocaust — Kassim, a child adopted bythe main Canopean protagonist afterbeing born into Shikasta, tours the newtowns in Europe. The "lock" hasreturned and life is again harmonious.There is enough "substance of wefeeling" to go around, as they say.Everyone feels that the horror of the pastis remote, unimaginable, though theyhave barely parted ways with it. Kassimwrites:"Well sometimes I look back andit is such a little time, and I can't believe it. I think that dreadfulnesshappens somewhere else. I don'tknow how to say that. I mean, whenawful things happen, even to the ex¬tent we have all seen, then our mindsdon't take them in. Not really. Thereis a gap between people saying hello,have a glass of water, and thenbombs falling or laser beamsscorching the world to cinders. Thatis why no one seemed able to preventthe dreadfulness. They couldn't takeit in ... Do you think it is possible itis not so much we forget things thatare awful but that we never reallybelieved in them happening."Lessing, by presenting us withdreadfulness, and from a removethat forces it into plain focus,compels us to consider it — torealize its truth, and to prevent itscontinuing evolution.NeuronsMy neurons are feeling each other upGetting into each other’s synapsesInpregnating each other with electric gametesAnd doing it allAll of themAt one time.Millions of mental screws per minuteBillions of headless babiesWarning each other to stay inside andTo stay awayFrom the exit portalsOf my sense organsWhere they might fall outAnd be seen inA harsher light.— J. Grossmann UnwantedSloppy unattractive chain-smoking suicidal drug-addicted fugitive from society and former HSdropout seeks same to bitch about crummyroach-infested over-priced run-down one-and-a-half room Stoney Island shit hole. Newly dilapi¬dated. Running water available with oral threat90 days in advance. Must be fond of house ro¬dents. Excellent criminal record required. Mustbe willing to commit one act of light vandalismper week. Well-adjusted individuals need notapply. Carnivore preferred. Call 274-0200 afterdark.— John RossheimThe Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 7Winter Court Theatre presentsA Child’s Christmasin Walesand other Dylan Thomas poetryRead by Nicholas RudallTwo performances only!Sunday, December 16 and Decernbe^33:00 PMNew Theatre, 57th & University on Dec. 1 r and Reynolds Club North Lounge on Dec. 23S5.00 general admissionS3.00 students and senior citizens753-3581 tflitjieASlower S/io,ouuer V1308 E. 53rdr 643-4020 lflowers, forf alloccasionsMallory’s SEASONEDFIREWOODWe DeliverGUITAR SALESave up to $60 on beautifulnew Takamine guitarsPrices slashed on every guitarin stockCome in now while selection is goodThe Fret Shop5210 Harper667-1060 11 am-6 pm M. Tu. Th Sat1 2 - 6 pin Wed. Fri.HILLEL LECTURE•‘THE ISRAELI WAY OF LIFE VS. THEAMERICAN W AY OF LIFE.”FRIDAY. DECEMBER 7. 8:30 l\M.SPEAKER: PROFESSOR MILL \ Y OHELDept, of Sociology and Anthropology.Dept, of Eretz Israel Studies. I niv. of Haifa.Ph.D. from l niv. of Chieago. Former HebrewLanguage Teacher at U C Hillel.5715 WOODEAWN AVENUEROCKEFELLER MEMORIAL CHAPEL5850 SOUTH WOODLAWN AVENUE • CHICAGO. ILLINOISSUNDAY AFTERNOON AT 4:00 O’CLOCKDECEMBER 9Bach’s CHRISTMAS ORATORIORICHARD VIKSTROM, DIRECTORTHE ROCKEFELLER CHAPEL CHOIRAND ORCHESTRA (28 players)J ANICE HUTSON, SopranoPHYLLIS UNOSAWA. ContraltoALONZO CR( )OK. Tenor DALE TERBEEK. Counter-tenorHENRY HUNT. TenorWILLIAM DIANA. BassFJ)\X ARD M()NI)ELL(). ( ontimioOn Sale at: MANDEL HALE ROX ()FFICE. 5706 S. I niversitv AvenueCOOLEY’S CORNER. 521 I S. Harper Avenuesingle Ticket: Reserved $8.00 • Chancel Seating $7.00General Admission $6.00 • Student (with l.l).) $2.50CHAPEL BOX OFFICE OPENS \T 3:00 P.M.8 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979Recovering ArendtHannah Arendt:The Recovery of the Public Worldedited by Melvyn A. HillSt. Martin'sby Roger MichenerThese twelve essays grew from the 1972Toronto conference on the thought andwritings of Hannah Arendt; and they arefollowed by an edited transcript from theconference in which Miss Arendt herselfdiscusses the disscussants.Unlike Croce's remark on Hegel, theaim of these essays is not to determine"what is living and what is dead" in MissArendt's thought, but rather to reveal"the paradigmatic status of her work asa thinker." Five of the twelve papersconsider aspects of The HumanCondition, two, The Life of the Mind, oneeach The Origins of Totalitarianism andOn Revolution, two, general aspects ofher political and philosophical thought,and one paper is a biographical sketch.Although these essays record a genuine,indeed, almost a reverent appreciationfor Arendt, they also convey a confusedand faint understanding of the range andsignificance of her work.With scant exception, these essays donot penetrate to an assayable evaluationof Arendt's thought, and, in some cases,cannot even reach agreement onfundamental aspects of her doctrine. Forinstance, in discussions of "work" and"labor", central themes in The HumanCondition, one author writes: "She(Arendt) seems to ally herself, implicitly,with the central direction of his (Marx's)thought," while another asserts: "Unlikemany other critics of Marx, Arendt'scritique is launched from the perspectiveof a clearly worked-out alternativephilosophy of man and society." Moregenerally the condition of contradictionsuffuses these essays. What is a radicalbreak for one author, becomes a threadof continuity for another; what is sweetpraise from the lips of one, a genuinesucces d'estime, becomes a sourball inthe mouth of another.All this is perplexing, for the manifoldcontradictions in these essays seem lessthe product of genuinely alternateinterpretation, more the result ofmisunderstanding. Hannah Arendt, afterall, did stand for something — and veryoften courageously so. The force of herintellect and the weight of her eruditiondid combine to create a point of view thatwas distinctive and attractive, ifresistible. Of course, these confusionsmay simply mean that Arendt, unlikeKierkegaard who wished for a poet to dohim justice after death, might moremodestly desire an exegete to get herstraight.Nonetheless, these authors douniformly convey the impression thatArendt, in important ways, despised themodern world, that she was alienatedfrom contemporary society. ElisabethYoung Bruehl's biographical sketchlimns the hideous events surroundingWorld War II and the rise of Hitler toshow the progress of this alienation, andshe uses Arendt's conception of"natality" (first developed in her 1929dissertation on St. Augustine, and said tobe her only concept that did not comedirectly from her supervisor, KarlJaspers) to advantage to show Arendt'snotion of "situational doom" — abirthright, so to speak. Although it surelyis not the intention of these authors, thefive essays on The Human Condition,which bears the interesting subtitle, "astudy of the central dilemmas facingmodern man," also make clear Arendt'shostility to modern life as she pursues"the modern world alienation" on itshistorical path, back to Periclean Athens.As some of these authors state, Arendtromantically idealizes the politicalarrangements of the Greeks by investingall human hope and aspiration in thecategory of action — her discussion ofwhich is surely among her significantachievements, but for which she gives nospecific, modern example. It is from action, however, that Arendt comes tosee politics as an activity in which mencollectively take charge of their destinyand reshape the world. From acting, menexperience freedom and disclose theirunique individual identity. For Arendt,politics is a Thucydidean arena of speechand action, of noble words and of greatdeeds. As such it can be conceptualizedonly in terms of such categories asfreedom, individuality, speech, action,principle and world.To acting (vita activa), she initiallycontrasts thinking (vita contemplativa),but, in time, eventually joins the twocategories to a degree, for thinking is akind of action. Action is the subject ofThe Human Condition and thought that ofThe Life of the Mind, a lugubrious andabstruse work, explored in essays byGlenn Gray and Michael Denneny.Arendt tries to be clear that thought is ofgreater significance than action, but aclose reading of the first section of TheHuman Condition reveals ambiguitiesthat quite possibly belie her assertion.(Given Arendt's fascination with theconcept of isonomy and her interest inThucydides, one might assert that herambivalences between thought and actioncan be seen in Thucydides' antitheticaltreatment of such pairs as logos andergon, and gnome and tyche.At the heart of it, these authors showthat Arendt is not only anti-nomian andunrealistic, but also deeply skeptical ofreason. Bikhu Parekh and Mildred Bakanboth note:"She (Arendt) is a political radicalwho, like Marx, is opposed to theinstitution of the state and proposes toreplace it by a fully fledged system ofdemocratic participation. She is not aneconomic conservative either . . . LikeMarx, Arendt seems to be critical of thevery phenomenon of exchange and theimplied object-alienation, and thereforeof the entire capitalist economy," and"Arendt distrusts reason . . . Thecontemporary ring of Arendt's politicalphilosophy stems from this distrust ofreason. But her political philosophyleaves us with a sense of helplessnessand impotence, because it gives nocredence to any analysis of our politicalsituation . . ."While these assessments reveal someappreciation of the underlying ambiguityin Arendt's treatment of thought andaction, they, like Arendt herself, clarifylittle. The other essays on aspects of TheHuman Condition by Kenneth Frampton,Peter Fuss, and Robert Major share thisquality. But in his paper, MichaelDenneny seeks to unknot the tangle bydiscussing a third category: Judgment.Denneny feels "that the whole corpusof Arendt's political thought can bearticulated around two foci: the conceptof action and the significance ofjudgment in the world of opinion,"because "it was in theoretical recoil fromthe reality of totalitarianism that Arendtunsystematically disassembled both themodern and ancient metaphysicaltheories of politics and came to thecentral role of the faculty of judgment —which can be defined as the capacity toaccept the human condition of plurality."Despite this slightly fishy definition,Denneny's discussion of the faculty ofjudgment in the thought of Shaftesbury,Kant, and Arendt is stimulating andworthwhile. More importantly, apartfrom dragging about, like Philoctetes hisstinking foot, an olla podrida ofCommittee on Social Thought clichesfrom a decade ago with rather too muchoverindulgence, he writes in a seriousand penetrating way on this difficult andarresting subject.The other paper is this collection thatmight command some interest, but forother reasons, is the discussion ofHannah Arendt's views on the past byStan Draenos. It is here that one may seethe conceptual superficiality of Arendt'sunderstanding of society and of politics.The source of Arendt's conviction that Hannah Arendtthe tradition of Western thought liesshattered, in ruins, is, of course, usuallyattributed to her experience with thehorrors of totalitarian domination, whichshe sees as a unique phenomenon.(Bernard Crick's essay discusses TheOrigins of Totalitarianism.)But the source of the idea, expressedby her in "Understanding and Politics,"lies elsewhere: "originality ... ishorrible, not because some new 'idea'came into the world, but because its veryI actions constitute a break with all ourtraditions: they have clearly explodedour categories of political thought andour standards of moral judgment."Draenos elaborates her meaningsomewhat: "For tradition, according toArendt, orders the past, hands it down,interprets it, omits, selects, andemphasizes according to a system ofpre-established beliefs.' And thesignificance of a tradition of thought,while it lives, is just its ability to -articulate living experience, to secure itconceptually'. . .," but "since livingtradition ... is irrevocably dead and inruins . . . since the tradition of thought inits broadest sense is dead . . . because itsground has dissolved . . .Arendt'sthinking cannot even seek to stand on theground of any tradition ... for theground itself has disappeared ... In thewake of tradition's end, Arendt's thinkingseeks to disclose the meaning of the pastoutside the framework of any tradition."Arendt thinks the political present indaily life is "to be confronted anew,without religious trust in a sacredbeginning and without the protection oftraditional and therefore self-evidentstandards of behavior" for which "weneed no authority and no methodology toconfirm the validity of this truth."This revelation of the anarchic qualityof Arendt's thought is followed by anequally disorderly evaluation of it. "Butif it is to a realization of the futility ofthinking that Arendt's outlook leads us,why should we be concerned with herthought at all? Do we not face here yetanother romantic protest againstmodernity? I think not. On the contrary,Arendt is one of the essential thinkers ofour times, who, when read properly,illuninates critical aspects of the modernsituation with which thinking must cometo terms."Under the circumstances, confrontedby this passle of contradicting andcontradictory essays, it is hard to know how to "read properly." Should one readfurther on in the book to Melvyn Hill'spaper, which subjectively reduces theworld to "stories and fictions" (but not"games?"), or reach for Joseph WoodKrutch's The Modern Temper in searchof instruction and reassurance, if notescape from the intellectual shabbinessof some of these essays?These essays do, however, registerappreciation of Arendt's substantialachievement in conceptual enrichment.Her very Aristotelian conceptualtaxonomy of categories, like "work" and"labor," accompanied by her greatphilological strength,do illuminate thewritings of Aristotle and Thucydides. It ispossible to learn a great deal from thefootnotes of The Human Condition. Butwhen she is read alone, unaccompaniedby these texts, her thought seems to lackthe concreteness desirable in politics andthe sense of reality necessary forconceptualization about society.Hannah Arendt is an anarchic thinkerand these essays reflect thatpre-disposition. They reflect too herromantic but unrealistic sympathy withsmall communal forms, a sympathy thatsees New England town meetings,common law juries, and old-fashionedsoviets as the ultimately desirable formsof political experience for public life.There is something attractive aboutromancing Athens in New England, but itis too much to expect that substantialintellectual achievement will fashionitself from pinings and yearnings.After the rise of Hitler, Arendt mayhave had cause to despise contemporarylife, which in some ways shecourageously confronted, but she did nothave license to create a view of societythat sees it detached from itself, nor onethat sees an individual as able to besocially Dasein in free space. The time ispast due tor thinkers of the Arendtianpersuasion to face up to theirresponsibilities and to stop saying suchthings are possible, when realisticallythey are not. Despite her emphasis onparticipation, despite her craving for theNew England town meeting as the way toa recovery of the public world (which, infact, may never have been lost), it ishard to picture Hannah Arendtparticipating and acting, given herrevulsion and disdain for contemporarylife. Disdain is unlikely to recover thepublic world, but then, as Arendt knew, itwas not intended to.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 9an excerpt from HolCSby Robert DavisWhen Ricky awoke the first thing he didwas to sit upright and briskly scrub thewrinkles and creases from his face withhis palms. The next thing he did was totake a cigarette and a book of matches outof his jacket pocket and light himself asmoke. He took two deep long drags beforehe opened his eyes, then he looked around.The room where he'd slept was the lobby ofa hotel or apartment building. He stood upand walked to the double-doorway wherelight was sneaking around the plywoodbarricade. From a certain angle Rickycould see a vertical slice of the life of themorning outside the building. He sawsomething of the traffic, pedestrian andauto, that passed back and forth on Thirty-eighth Avenue. Black men with lunchbuckets and thermoses waiting for the buson a corner, a trio of old women crossingthe street moving out of his line of vision, apair of little kids on skateboards dodgingin and out of pedestrian traffic, an oldwhite-haired woman in a dark cloth coat,stooped and squatty, waddling under theburden of two shopping bags.Ricky turned back around to his littleworld. The lobby was rectangular, itslength broken up by the elevator whichwas on his left, ten steps into the room. Be¬hind that was where Ricky had slept. Be¬tween the elevator and the door was thefifty-gallon oil drum Ricky had read withhis fingers the night before. A puddle ofleaked oil had spread in an uneven blotaround its base. Ricky kicked some news¬papers around it to slow the flow. Oppositethe elevator, on the right hand wall, asmall motor of some sort; a manual pump,evidently intended for use with the oildrum; and a great, toothed, iron bucketuncoupled from its crane. On the bucket,the motor, and the oil drum, "R MiggsConst" was stencilled in dull yellow. Highon the wall, overlooking the stairs, was aboarded-up window.Ricky walked to the far end of the room.He could see strangely luminous shapesagainst the far wall. When he got closer hecould see the wall was decorated withseven-foot-tall flamingoes papered there,faded silver gray with age. Their neckswere giant serpentine curves, bowing andbulging from tiny hook-beaked and target¬eyed heads to plump turkey breasts. Hugebluish vegetable stalks and fronds framedthem and their tropical birdbath. Theyscared the hell out of Ricky Perderia.Still looking around, Ricky dropped hiscigarette on the floor and stepped on it. Helooked up the stairs. He put a foot on thebottom step. "Hello?" he said in a littlevoice. "Anyone up there?" He took an- jother single step up the stairs. "Hello?"Nah, he thought, and went back to thespread newspapers where he had slept.On his newspaper pallet he sat down andtook off his shoes and socks. He shook hissocks out, turned them inside out and putthem back on. It was the next best thing towashing them. It'd be all right here for afew days, he decided. It would be goodenough until he got a paycheck or two. Out Iof his bag he dug his tube of acne ointment jand squeezed a dab on his finger. He ap jplied it to those places he was sure weremost in need and put the tube back in thebag. Then he splashed some aftershave lotion over his neck and forearms. Yeah, thisplace is fine for now, he thought, and in• confirmation of his decision he tucked his jbagfulof property into a corner and spread |some rags and papers and other refuseover it for camouflage. No one would everbe able to tell.He left the building the same way he en¬tered, by sliding himself around the let¬tered plywood barricade and jumpingdown off the stepless porch. He looked back at the face of the building. Above theboarded-up doorway was a slab of marblewith the words "The EVERREST" en¬graved on it.Outside he stood a minute, tipping backand forth on his heels, bobbing his head upand down to some vague rhythm. It feltgood back outside here. He started walk¬ing with the hurrying morning shift, keep¬ing pace with them, moving along in placebeside them, jostling and hurrying whenthey jostled and hurried, stopping whenthey stopped. Yeah yeah yeah, he sang tohimself. Yeeaah yeah. He pushed alongwith a crowd until a bunch of them stoppedat a bus stop and stood around talking.Their eyes were still bleared and puffedfrom sleep. The white people were purplearound their lips and nostrils; the faces ofthe black people were tinted dark, darkgreen. The sunlight shone high on thebuildings behind them so you could still seetheir words vaporize in the morning shad¬ows when they talked. Ricky stood withthem but Ricky didn't talk. Ricky justrocked back and forth on his heels andbobbed his head. When the bus' tires rolledagainst the curb and its doors groanedopen and the crowd of people boarded,Ricky stayed behind. After the last passen-Monotype by Manjula Haksarger had climbed up the steps, Ricky and ithe bus driver looked at each other. "Get-tin on?" the bus driver said. Ricky turnedand walked away. Dumbass, Rickythought. Did it look like I was getting on?Did I have a goddam lunch bucket? Dumb¬ass.At a Winchell's he had a large coffee anda cinnamon twist. He knew he had to watchhis money till he started work Tuesday.From there he went to a drugstore wherehe bought a pack of Marlboros and a pairof mirror sunglasses. At the next corner heput them on and lit a cigarette. Standing onthe corner he could see far down twostreets at once and he could see therewasn't anything happening down the wholelength of either one. There wasn't anythinghappening at all in that whole town proba¬bly.Ricky walked. On East FourteenthStreet he played pinball machines for acouple of hours. He spent the noon hours atLake Merritt with the lunch crowd watching the boats. All day he walked till he gottired, then rested until he got restless. Itlooked like that's all there was to do in thattown. There wasn't a thing going downanywhere in that place. Three o'clock he was in front of a recordstore. The music carried easily out into thestreet to the scattered young people sittingon cars, curbs, leaning against windowsuntil warned off, squatting on the side¬walk. Ricky hung around there for a cou¬ple of hours. He thumbed through all therecords in the store one by one, even thecountry westerns; he spent a few minutesin front of each poster; he allowed himselfto be amazed by the psychedelic posters inthe blacklight room. Most of the time,though, he spent out front, leaning hisshoulder on a parking meter with a ciga¬rette between his lips. Every hour or so acop car or paddy wagon would roll by atabout the speed of a walk and Ricky and allthe other people in front of the record storewould push through the doorway at onceand crowd up inside the store until the po¬lice were out of sight. Then they wouldtrickle back out in pairs or threes or, likeRicky, alone.Four-thirty things began to wake up a lit¬tle. The sidewalk began to crowd up withpeople. The beat that came from the re¬cord store changed from the slow churningcrank of Mississippi Sun Buddy's "TenderLoin Blues —"Was'ed days, oh Lord, an dosewas'ed nightsAw dem was'ed days and was'ed ni-hi-hi-hights.(Ow wont somebody he'p me, pu-lease.)Im dess a po co'ntry boy, co'ntryboy,An I caint tell de who'es fum detrans bess-dites —.Now the beat was a lively Disco swing —VIOLINS (smoke away your blues anddrown your troubles) BRASSVIOLINS (find yourself inlace and ruffles) BRASSVIOLINS (dress in dragtonight) BRASSVIOLINS (disco quee een) BRASSVIOLINS (it's your own bagtonight) BRASSVIOLINS (disco quee-een) BRASSExtended synthesizer solo in four notes;raises an octave and repeats.VIOLINS (wear a platinum wig andshave your chest) BRASSVIOLINS (put on opera hose and aspangle dress) BRASSVIOLINS (dress in dragtonight) BRASSVIOLINS (disco quee-een) BRASSVIOLINS (it's your own bagtonight) BRASSVIOLINS (disco quee een) BRASSThe rhythm started to spread to the peopleon the street, to the cars and the taxis, toeverything. Ricky could feel it. It was Fri¬day night and everyone was ready for it.Ready for it. He could feel it in the push ofI the bodies on the sidewalk, the lean of the| buildings overhead. Even his headache (itI wasn't a bad one; he hardly even noticedj it) throbbed in time to the pulse of the| crowd. When the light across the streeti blinked to the walking green, he crossedwith the people. He felt just exactly like anelectric guitar turned full volume. Fromwalking green to walking green he went,allowing the changing lights to decide his! direction. The crowd he traveled with| grew, shrank, changed. When a bus; stopped for Ricky's crowd, he got on with! the others. He rode it until he recognizedthe corner where he'd first boarded; thenhe rode it another half dozen blocks so hewouldn't feel like he'd wasted his time, be¬fore finally gettiing off. From there hewalked until he came to the MacArthurBoulevard BART station. At the magazinecounter, he changed a five dollar bill intotwenty quarters and went to a payphone.Spreading the puarters out on the stainlesssteel shelf, he put one in the lot and started dialing. He dialed for a long time, thenspoke to an operator, and then startedpumping coins into the top of the tele¬phone. He rocked on his heels; his headbobbed to the Muzak that sifted like smokefrom the ceiling. Then he stopped starkstill, his heels flat on the floor.In his ear a voice crackled, "Hello?"Ricky took the receiver from his ear andheld it over the cradle a second. Then heput it back to his ear. "Hello?" the voicesaid again.Ricky said, "Hello?"The voice aid, "Hello. Who is this?""'S me, Poppa. Ricky.""Oh. Hello, Ricky."(Silence.)Ricky: "I jus called to say hello,y'know?""Jus to say hello, huh.""Yeah.""Well, hello then.""Hi."(Silence.)"You wanna say hello to your mother,too, I guess?""Yeah.""CELIA! CELIA! FOR YOU! ISSRICKY! HOW SHOULD I KNOW! COMEASK HIM YURSELF!""Hello, Ricky.""Hi, Momma. How ya doing?""Jus fine. Where are you, Ricky?""Im at the BART station on MacArthur.In a payphone.""Oh. I thought maybe . . .""Not yet, Momma, but I be there realsoon. I got me this job startin nest Toosdayan Im gonna sa'e me some mony an comeout an see you guys. An maybe I wannmove back home by then, too. Who knows,y'know?""Oh.""This is a for sure deal I got, Momma.Starting nest Toosday. An 'en Im commingout to you guys.""Okay, Ricky.""Don' tell me 'Okay Ricky' like that,Momma, because 'is time Im 'onna doit."(Silence.)"So how's Poppa?""Oh, he's fine. Real fine. You jus talk tohim. You shoulda ask him yourself.""I didn't think. Momma?""Im here.""Do me a favor, would you? Tell Poppa Iovercome the dope, huh? That I learnedbetter. Im well. Tell him that for me, allright?"(Silence.)"Would you do that for me?""Oh Ricky Ricky. . . If I could believe. . .""Iss true, though. I have. Believe me.Ask anyone. I have. I overcome it thistime.""You tell your poppa yourself. Im calling him to the phone.""Wait! No. Wait. Momma. Lissen.""What?""Look, Momma, Im fine, y'know. Youcould ask anyone an they would say, yeah,Ricky's fine, he does good. So I am. Boy ohboy am I ever fine. An you're fine, you'redoing good, an Poppa's fine an he's doinggood. An Uncle Louis is fine and he's doingqood. See, everyone's fine and everyone'sdoing good. Everyone in CaJifornia's fineand they all do good. No one does bad andeveryone's happy. Iss far out, y'know. Isscool here. Everything's so good, so thasswhy l called an thass how everything issgood for me and for you and for Poppa andeveryone. Iss real good Oh boy,y'know?""Ricky.""Well, Momma iss' cossing.me mony.Long distance, y'know.""Ricky, talk to your Poppa one time before you hang up. Please."10 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979on 32nd Avenue"No way.""Please. Jus for a minute. Make himfeel good.""Sure. Make him feel good.""He wants to make it up to you.""Sure. Wants to make it up to me.""Ricky, stop that! He does. Im gonnacall him to the phone.""Dont! Ill hang up! I will!""Ricky.""If he wanned to he couldda when hefirss answered the phone. Nothing wasstoppin him then, y'know. He couldda if hewanned to."(Silence.)"Look. I gotta go. Iss' cossing memony.""Okay.""Bye, Momma.""Bye, Ricky.""Bye. Momma? Momma?"(Dialtone.)A crosstown bus took Ricky back to therecord store. The window lights lay intwisted squares and bars on the sidewalkand across the bodies and faces of theyoung people in front. Ricky talked to awhite kid with a red afro for a few minutes.As they talked they took turns at a quartbottle of beer. After a while they claspedhands in a soul handshake and Ricky head¬ed up the street alone.He took three of them, saved the rest foranother day. At a drugstore, Ricky boughta quart of beer. He had to show an I.D. thatsaid he was twenty-one before the cashierwould sell it to him. On the cash registerwas a sign that showed a picture of a policerevolver over the caption "IT'S THELAW!" and some sentences about thedangers of armed robbery. The guy at thecounter watched Ricky suspiciously. For abuck-fifty Ricky bought himself a slenderblack plastic cigarette lighter. He carriedthe beer in a bag to the bus stop. Waitingfor the bus, Ricky finished the whole bottleand set it, empty and still wrapped in thepaper bag, under the bench.He felt like dancing. In San Leandro heknew all the good clubs. The cigarette hewas smoking burned down to his fingersand he flung it in the street and shook hishand. He sucked on his blistering knucklefor a while, then blew on it for a while. Helit another cigarette with his new lighter.He was beginning to get restless. He won¬dered where the bus was. He went back tothe drugstore and bought another bottle ofbeer. The cashier asked him for his I.D.again. He returned to the bus stop in timeto see the bus' red taillights shrink into thedistance. Damn! He kicked the bench.Damn-damn damn! He slugged the lamp-post. Damn! He took a long swallow ofbeer and somehow knocked the coal off hiscigarette and down inside his jacket. Heslapped his chest and shook the front of hisjacket. There were three small charredholes in his turtleneck tee shirt. He tooktwo more of them and washed them downwith beer. He saw the ground lunge up athim suddenly but didn't put his feet for¬ward soon enough to prevent it from hit¬ting him in the face. Luckily, the beer bot¬tle didn't break although it foamed overthe top and stuck to his hand and wrist andjacket sleeve. He picked himself up. Hefelt fine. If he was in San Leandro he'dhave been dancing his head off by now.Through his mind boogied visions of youngwomen of various races, each one wearinga different colored velvet jumpsuit with azipper that went all the way down the frontto the crotch and then back up behind. Hesat on the bus stop bench. Who needsthem? he thought. Only good for one thing.Can't even find a good one. One that cancook and has great big tits. That's all. Cookwith big tits. What the hell, he thought, Ican learn to cook for myself. Great big titsand know when to shut up. Hell, let her talk when she wants even. He'd be dancing his |head off if he was in San Leandro. He puthis mirror sunglasses on.A man and a woman sat down at the busstop. Ricky offered the man a drink of hisbeer. The man refused. Ricky wanted totell him something so he scooted over be¬side him. He leaned against him and puthis arm around the man's shoulder. Thewoman on the other side of the manjumped up because Ricky had stabbed herin the cheek with the lit end of his ciga¬rette.Ricky put his hands to his face in sorrowand moaned, "Ohgodohgod um sorry Ricky pulled his hand from his pocketand held his fist out to the man. "Takem.Here. Takem. One fyer ollllady, too."The man and the woman backed away.The man shook his head and called RickyPal. Then they turned and walked away,leaving Ricky swaying alone on the side¬walk. Ricky took a drink of his beer. Hetook one more and put the last two back inhis pocket. He tried to focus on the manand woman very small at the end of theblock. "Dumbass!" he yelled DUMBASSES! THE TWO O' YA! SCROOYOU,HUH!"He went back to the bench. He could feelMonotype by Manjula Haksarohgod um so sorry. Um sucha asshole. Iyam i know it. Anasshole. Nono. I yamiyam. Hey mon, teller um sorry. No. 'Snotawright. Don' tell me 'at. Is not. 'Snot.Don' tell me it is I said, goddammit! Jusshuddup! Iss not. Ima asshole. Jus howiyam."The man held Ricky at arm's length asRicky tried to encircle the couple with hisoutspread arms. He called Ricky Buddy.He pushed the woman around behind himand told Ricky to sit down and take it easy.Ricky tried to give him some beer again.Ricky fell down. The man helped him up."Cheeses, yer so nice an um jussa as¬shole." Ricky had tears in his eyes whenhe said this. "Botha you. I love botha you. Irilllly do."The man called Ricky Pardner. it coming up. He sat down and put his headbetween his knees and gave it up in afoamy splash in the gutter. The busslowed, then seeing Ricky, switched its jturn signal off and passed him by. Ricky jhad no choice but to walk. He fell down ;very seldom.The first time he woke was in the restroom of an all night laundromat. Thelarge belly of a man loomed over him.Ricky's body was curled around the toilet,his cheek pressed against the welcomecool of the cement floor. The man pulledhim to his feet by picking him up by hisneck. He said, "Whaddaya think this is?The Mission or something? Whutha hellerya doin’? Stand up!" He pulled Ricky bythe head out of the bathroom. A womanstood behind a table that was stacked with unfolded clothes. Her mouth shaped a littleO, and her eyebrows were as high up onher forehead as they could reach. Rickytried to smile and shrug and act uncaringas he was rushed past her. He wanted toapologize to her. He wanted to kill the manwho shoved him along, and all his children."Punk! What!? Wha' joo say?! Stand uphere! I knock you on your ass so fast!"Ricky hit the glass doors hard twice, be¬fore he managed to pull them open. He fellforward into the street, stopped upright byrunning his face against a parking meter.He leaned there a minute not throwing up.He opened his eyes and in the violet half-light of the streetlamp he saw at his feet,amid remnants of star and brick and electrie neon, a mouth open and dark, an eye,dusty dry and hot and cracked with blood,patches of pale-green face — reflectionsonly, in the lenses of his mirror sunglassesshattered and scattered on the cement.For a single moment those glasses werethe most important things in the world toRicky Perderia and he wanted them backbadly. Then he straightened up and movedoff down the street before the policecame.The next time he woke his eyes wouldn'tfocus at all. Everything inside him disa¬greed violently with everything else abouthim. The stars above spun around a pivo¬tal point directly over his face and theground under him sloped away at frighten¬ing angles. On his eyes flashed lights redand white, red and white, yellow, red andwhite. He was on his back with his armsspread out and holding to the ground withclawing fingertips. As on a carnival ride,gravity was confused. The flesh on his facewas pulled down, then back on his skulltoward the ground; his scalp crawled likeearwigs on an overturned rock. Ringingand wailing and roaring swam in his tearfilled ears. He lifted his head but it bumpeddown again with a hollow knockingsound.His temples were wet with tears. Hismouth felt dry and tasted like dirt, thenlike old pennies and then it wentwet, veryvery wet. His whole body was beingsqueezed and twisted and wrung like asponge. He convulsed, choked, an acidburning liquid filled his mouth and noseand he couldn't catch his breath. He con¬vulsed again, shuddered to a stop.All around the air was thick with red andwhite mists. The sky heaved and rolled,fluid with the smoke of a building thatburned across the street from the doorwaywhere Ricky lay. The air Ricky couldn'tbreathe stank of the chemical odor of burn¬ing upholstery and melting paint and tileand plaster. Water rushed into the buildingas spray and floated out the windows andfrom the roof as great billowing clouds ofsmoke. Firemen dragged hoses from roomto room and would appear for flashing mo¬ments still-framed in the glowing windowsbefore dissolving into more smoke. Thestreet was shiny wet, flattening the chaoticenergy of the flames into shooting patternsof light. Sirens died with a moan; menshouted and whistled; brass voicessquawked over loudspeakers; waterhissed into steam; the blaze boomed likewind in a hundred sails.Shadowed on the eyelids of Ricky Per¬deria was the flickering image of a being,calm and patient but somehow dangerous,threatening, bonepale bloodless skinstretched taut on skull and skeleton, mouthopen and dark. The image fluttered anddissolved, cloudy and ghostly as the menand flames across the street.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 11£><s»C5^a 0.4J.01 fc/s»x>,»fc^&dc>^c>,o.o**c>^.o><».c>^c5*a.c>^».c5^s.c><#.c>^c>^.c:/n c>^» ^ 0/a.e>^» 0/9.0/9 c>^c»/»c>^c>^».e>/9.c>d*.c>/9.c><»J5> ,®.c*9.c>/9.c>^s».c>^o,© fc^s.O/a.cva.ts^y3 *i ALL UNIVERSITYWASSAIL PARTYCome relax, sip on Wassail prepared with our age-old,special recipe and enjoy the beginning of the festive season.TODAY at 4 p.m. - IDAY NOYES HALLFree refreshments and entertainment. lf . . .Sponsored for pure enjoyment by the SAOEnvironmentalInternProgramSummer or semester jobs for college studentswith government, private industry' and nonprofitorganizations in the environmental field.For internships in Ohio,Michigan, Indiana andWestern Pennsylvania: EIP/Lower Great Lakes332 The ArcadeCleveland, OH 44114 4-Drawer Files $25 and Up1-Drawer Stack Files $7.50DD Akin EQUIPMENTDHHIrL# & supply co.8600 COMMERCIAL AVENUERE 4-21 11 Open Mon.-Fri. 8:30-5:00Sat. 8:30-3:00 (Nov.)When in Southern California visit BTUOIOB TOCIPUNIVERSAL PICTURES PRESENTSAN ASPEN FILM SOCIETY WILLIAM E. McEUEN-OAVID V. PICKER PRODUCTIONA CARL REINER FILMin M’JIIVim\ I III inusiatScreenplaybyI Product Pjs BERNADETTE PETERS, CATLIN ADAMS,, JACKIE MASON a“ STEVE MARTIN, CARL GOTTLIEB, MICHAEL ELIAS s”;;STEVE MARTIN & CARL GOTTLIEBI DAVID V. PICKER,.,WILLIAM E. McEUEN "“"CARL REINERI READ THE WARNER BOOK I SfBSSft.5™* RESTRICTED <§P»UNDER 17 REQUIRES ACCOMPANYINGPARENT OR AOUIT GUARDIANComing For Christmas.12 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 AnalystsAPL Analysts with some course work in businessand math are needed now at the First NationalBank of Chicago. Our APL teams are exploringnew business applications iri several banking fields.The First is one of the nation's ten largest banks,located in the heart of Chicago's Loop. We offergood salaries, and one of the best benefits packagesavailable, including 100% tuition reimbursementand the opportunity to refine your business skillsin our challenging "real world" environment.If you are a January or June graduate, we're inter¬ested in hearing from you. Please send a letter orresume telling us about your background to:David E. FyhrieFIRST CHICAGOThe First National Bank of ChicagoOne First National PlazaChicago, Illinois 60670An Equal Opportunity Employer M/FHarperCourtSports5225 South Harper363-3748 -<^9>C>49.^^>-C5^9.CJ49.C>4S.&49.C^9.&49.C>£>.C>4».1Confessions of a Rebellious Readerby Molly McQuadeI don't know wjhether other people remember their childhood reading as fondlyas I do. For me the period was a rich one,like a taking-in of breath, or like the si¬lence between stanzas — a fruitful preludeto things to come. The book and I onlyseemed to be silent; actually, we werelearning from each other. And the plea¬sure I took from reading meant that Ihadn't yet learned to separate myself fromthe book.Instead, I participated in it. I may haveunderstood it rather unscientifically, butat least I did feel it. Somehow I can't bringmyself to, now — not usually. When I walkinto a bookstore, I want to be moved as Ionce was; but I don't expect it.Sometimes, I blame “the classics" forthis: texts that have been overtaxed byteachers and critics, burdened with aca¬demic propriety, then forced down ourthroats. Reading can't be carried on likethis; that's why it has been renamed“studying." All the preparations for“serious" reading, and the cautionary ob¬servations we're trained to make along tneway, obtrude into the text until the textstands no chance of naturally reaching us.In this way, studying a book mainly involves the strain of self-conscious dissocia¬tion from it.Hence my feeling of dread at confrontingNorton critical editions on bookstoreshelves. As I turn the delicate pages, Iknow they have already been folded, criss¬crossed, and annotated beyond reason;and I know that I have little to add.But this may be an unfair judgment onthe classics. I really don't rule them out; Ihave read and admired many of them. Andperhaps once I've run the gamut of “re¬cent," i.e. "unreliable," literature, I'll re¬alize its shortcomings and feel more re¬spect for established works. But until I do,I'll continue to admit that honorary booklists, prescribing the masters, frustrateme. I'll more warmly remember the booksthat woke me up and changed me.Many of these were children's. They en¬tered my mind without fault, so perfectlythat I hardly felt the nudge of their arrival,only the wonderful afterwash. The chil¬dren from the books began living in me.Benjy was one of them. Though I likedhim partly because he shared mybrother's name, and though I coveted thebook because my brother owned it, I likedBenjy, too, because of what he did withseeds: planted them in every randomplace he could imagine. ("Imagine" —what a grownup's word.) Though parentshad given him permission, along withsome kind of gardener's kit, Benjy soonturned their plans around and lived in aworld without plans — with seeds alone.Seeds in the bath; in shoeboxes hidden indark closets (how did they grow? fromlove); on the windowsill, of course, andcluttering the lawn; using up jars; violating space on the living room rug; stealingsunlight from the porch and the bedroomshelf — overrunning his life and histhoughts.Who but a child would carry things sofar? Perhaps an adult in misery's depthsor under the mad demands of a passing romance. But the urge would die. Benjy'sdidn't.And such vitality isn't unique. When I re¬call childhood books, I'm always waylaidby the vividness of the memory. Thoughthe list concludes, the visions don't fade:Laura Ingalls Wilder picking plums andplotting against the prissy Nellie Olsen;the house in House By the Sea witnessing200 years of American history; Christianna Brand's children running wild in NurseMatilda; the invention of the alphabet byRudyard Kipling's savages; the list goeson and on, as I become surrounded by theclaims of another life.Over Thanksgiving weekend, I stumbledon an old favorite in Kroch's and Brentano's. From the clutter of recent products(children's books are an unabashed industry), I unearthed Ludwig Bemelmans'Madeleine, and with it, memories of theScottish woman who undertook to read it tome (just as she undertook to serve me tea, Woodcut by Jane Adamsto dose me with her prejudices, and gener¬ally to educate me). In the gloom of herforeign rooms, brightened by paintings,wall hangings and figurines — as well asby tea biscuits — I hear her voice grum¬bling on with the details of Madeleine'smoxie and the incorruptible propriety ofher classmates.What is it that's so affecting about thisstory? Nothing in the subject matter, butrather in the way Madeleine is told: sim¬ply, unassailably. As one section relates:In the middle of the nightMiss Clavel turned on herlightand said, "something is notright."These few lines have an intuitive right¬ness that no child would doubt. Like MissClavel, the sensible reader won't questionhis instincts, however irrational theyseem. He'll turn to the next page, knowingit will somehow teach and comfort him.This is exactly why it's sad that childrenlose their faith and children's books theircoterie of readers.★ ★ ★Why trust a children's book when youdon't trust Desiderius Erasmus? WhenThucydides bores you stiff? When the onlycompelling thing about a nineteenth centu¬ry novelist is his presence on a readinglist? Trust it because a children's book ofthe best sort offers so few constraints. It'slike a body of water, an endless invitationto enter and forget.That was why I disliked Lois Lenski'sbooks, though they were the rage in somegrade school circles. Her drab little De¬pression-era girls held no appeal for me.And their homes never varied — dingy cityand dusty farm showed the same threadworn malaise. Their mothers sufferedunder false cheer, hips harnessed byaprons and elbows worn out by each day'skitchen labors. (Groceries. Menus. Chemical transformations. Only for the indict¬ed.)Though Lenski disappointed me, therewere others, like cat books, to compensate.Before I ever knew cats in the real world,they had crept into my mind and laid onpaws, until I believed — without quiteknowing it — that cats rowed boats, rentedcottages, made up picnic baskets, lovedtheir kittens,pranced over hills (in magni¬ficent kingdoms) — in short, that theydominated life and made it beautiful.Humans (by inference) did not. I still feel a little this way, although Iknow it's fanciful. But escape routes dooffer themselves: why not take advantageof them? Why not believe in them? TheKroch's and Brentano's crowds did, send¬ing booksellers scurrying after theirwants, and straining to decide what theirchildren would enjoy most."Oh, he likes scratch and smell,"sniffed a behemoth in a robin's-egg-bluecoat."Make three selections — that way,you'll be surprised," advised someone'sChristmas-obsessed father."She reads more than 100 books a year,"promised someone else, describing his ten-year-old daughter, who then began to listwhich.Boys in size-zero jackets grabbed forfootball books. "Don't yell! If you don'tstop yelling; they're going to throw youout," called one. The main table was aswarm; the racks buzzed with people whostood by staring at: PICTURE BOOKS,PICTURE BOOKS, and YOUNGREADERS.Among the better books on hand wereWake Up, Jeremiah! and The Two ofThem. In one a young boy wakes andleaves his bed to find the rising sun, thenreturns to tell his parents about it. Thanksto inspired illustrations, the simple text acquires a poetic power. In The Two ofThem, a girl learns to adjust to the death ofher grandfather. The story is moving yetunsentimental.Even simpler books, like We Hide, YouSeek, were charming — short on text, butacrawl with hedgehogs, chipmunks, bluezebras, dandelion-like trees, and lungingkangaroo rats. Where Does Teacher Live?featured lively pictures of Manhattan,where children in an elementary schoolpuzzled out the private lives of their bet¬ters.I found that most books improved on second reading. One was "The Little Mer¬maid," a Hans Christian Anderson fairytale appearing with others in a new edi¬tion. Though I hadn't read it in years, thestory returned with an eerie, unparaphrasable power, unmistakably clear in a section like this:"When you reach the age offifteen years," said her grand¬mother, "you will be permitted to swim up to the surfaceof the sea, to sit on the rocks inthe moonlight and watch the great ships sailing by. And youwill also see forests andcities."Such a passage evokes the strangenessand wonder of the world.Similarly, in Where the Wild Things AreMaurice Sendak lets his hero, a mischie¬vous boy, escape from everyday hin¬drances into another kingdom. When aforest grew in his bedroom, the boy. . sailed off through night andday and in and out of weeksand almost over a year towhere the wild things are . . .After taming them and becoming theirking, the boy tires of his exploits and re¬turns home to dinner.★ * ★Leaving the bookstore for Wabash Avenue, I felt dazed. Afternoon had ended; inthe darkness, possibilities clamored — thepossibilities raised by imagination. Ichafed at the thought of going back to myroom, where chores waited. I wanted, in¬stead, to act on what I had read and re¬membered — to become the heroine in achildren's book, so that I could pay properhomage to the genre.A wide variety of people do read chil¬dren's books — my mother, for one, whosevoice softens at mention of certain catbooks and the illustrated Mother Goose.One of the brightest people I know dotes onHenry and Beezus — in between readingthe annotated "Wasteland" for class. Ioften hear stories of frustrated college stu¬dents who, with no teaching or libraryschool ambitions, huddle around theshelves and stacks where pictures and an¬imals are still believed in and literaryanalysis is eschewed.However, I am not trying to summonsupport for my own guilty habit. It doesn'tamount to a habit, yet; I spend more timeremembering than rereading even my fa¬vorite children's books. But l would do wellto read them, and I'd differ with anyonewho called it a regressive or an irresponsible move.To experience fiction as fact is an art;you learn it as a child or not at all. Afterchildhood ends, it's a fight to regain theground you've been told to surrender. Andsurrender for what? For the sake , in somecases, of would be scholarship. Or moreoften, in order to submit to life — with itstrove of petty obligations and equally dulldisciplines.— Back to work.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 13Denneny etccontinued from page 6painting illustrations for complex art historical arguments. That was his basic crit¬icism of much of the art of the Sixties. Hemade Tom Wolfe's argument fifteen yearsbefore Wolfe did.CLR: I've always found Rosenberg'sessays on Marx to be especially inter¬esting, particularly an essay he wrote onthe Marxist literary critic George Lukacs,where we have Rosenberg identifying him¬self as a Marxist yet also disparagingLukac's heavy-handed Marxist approachto Modernist literature. Did Rosenberghave a clearly defined Marxist view?Denneny: Well, I happen to think thatHarold is one of the most interestingreaders of Marx that I've ever read, andone of the most useful. There are fiveessays on Marx which can be found in hisbooks. Just before Harold died we weregoing to pull those essays and publish themtogether. Harold was going to write a longautobiographical introduction about bothhis personal and intellectual involvementwith Marxism, along with a concludingpiece on what Marxism he thought to beuseful in understanding the world today.Interestingly, friends of mine who are in¬terested in radical thought tell me that heand Arendt are being read with great ex¬citement today by the radical leftists inFrance and Germany.CLR: What are they attracted to in Rosen¬berg's Marxist thought?Denneny: They're interested in Harold'sconcentration on Marx's theories on theaesthetics of action. How every revolutionhas to happen in the guise of the past,which is something Marx was very awareof. Marx was, for example, interested inthe fact that people in the French Revolu¬tion had to pretend that they wereRomans, when clearly they weren'tRomans.CLR: Doesn't that go back to what Rosen¬berg said about the importance of creatinga personal style, a personal self, with re¬ gards to art?Denneny: Yes, you can't act without creat¬ing a persona. What Harold picked out ofMarx is where Marx talks about the natureof action, not where he's talking ^bout eco¬nomic determinism. The Eighteenth Bru-maire is where Marx speaks of the gang ofhoodlums, essentially bohemians andcriminals, who are the people Louis Bona¬parte put together. Obviously this is a pre¬cursor for the people Mussolini and Hitlerput together. They were originally armedbohemians, not classes.CLR: Word has been out that Harold wasworking on a book on Dostoevsky. Are welikely to see it, and why a book on a singlesubject after Rosenberg's career of doingcollections of pieces?Denneny: The Dostoevsky book was unfin¬ished, and probably won't come out fori"some time, and then most likely wit post¬humous essays. Harold was asked byFrank Kermode to do a book on Dos¬toevsky for the Modern Masters series andhe said yes. All of Harold's writing was oc¬casional writing. He was asked to writesomething on something and he wrote it.Harold didn't write books — he wroteessays; that was his form. When Haroldwrote ''The Politics of Illusion'' it wasoriginally more than three-hundred pages.He spent two years boiling it down to athirty-page essay. Most people would havepublished the three-hundrea pages asa book.CLR: Maybe you could say somethingabout your own book, Lovers. What madeyou write it? Why does the form of the in¬terview appeal to you?Denneny: I was interested in investigatingways of being gay. The most sensible wayit seemed to me was talking to people, andseeing how other people lead their lives. Iwas not interested in a social science ap¬proach to gay couples, which is what a lotof people are doing these days.Nobody can take Lovers as anykind of example, as a book which tries todictate a new set of norms. But reading about the relationship should tell us some¬thing. I do want to stimulate people tothink about their own relationships andabout themselves.CLR: What made you and your friendsfound Christopher Street Magazine? Didyou sense a paucity in quality gay writ¬ing?Denneny: Yes, and we also wanted to see agay culture come into existence. We didnot want the next generation of gay artiststo be like Gore Vidal, Edward Albee, andso on. There have been a lot of gay artistsin America in the last fifty years who haveyet to deal with the situation of being gay.It seemed to me that if you could create acultural situation where the next genera¬tion would deal with that, then you would be making great progress. Had Auden —who got involved in leftist politics butnever gay politics — had he become a gaypoet he might not have been canonized sofast, but he would have been canonized inthe end. The power of the artist willalways, in my opinion, win.One of the things thataffects gay people in a negative way ishaving almost no images in the culture torelate to. I want to read gay writing andgay books. Bernett Newman said he paint¬ed in order to have something to look at.He didn't like anyone else's paintings. Itseemed to me the best reason for paintingI'd ever heard. It's the same reason I givefor wanting to publish gay writing.Interview conducted by Richard KayeJames Farrell's Chicagocontinued from page 4around, you find yourself defending anodesiring the memory. This may be true inall cities, but Chicago has been expeciallylucky in the writers who have memori¬alized her — Farrell, Nelson Algren, andSaul Bellow.The local pleasures of Farrell's writingaren't limited to those who grew up on theSouth Side of Chicago. He wrote aboutHyde Park and the University, having at¬tended the College off and on between 1925and 1929. But the Hyde Park he wroteabout doesn't really exist anymore, exceptin certain bars in East Hyde Park whereDemocratic precinct captains and off-dutycops drink. The University, too, haschanged drastically. Farrell was leavingas Hutchins was coming, and the Universi¬ty that nourished and disappointed DannyO'Neill in My Days of Anger was dominat¬ed by fraternities and football. Danny hadto scramble to get the education he want¬ed. (Farrell was influenced by the writingsof ex-U of C professors Thorsten Veblen,John Dewey, George Herbert Mead, by the then flourishing Chicago School of Sociolo¬gy, and by his writing teachers, the nove¬lists James Weber Linn and Robert Her¬rick.)Last spring Farrell, who had lived inNew York city for the past fifty years,came back to campus in order to speak atthe dedication of the James Weber LinnMemorial Window in Rockefeller Chapel.A friend of mine had driven him to campusfrom O'Hare, so I was not surprised to findhim walking through Hutch Court. When Iintroduced myself, he was cordial, re¬lieved to learn that I was writing a disser¬tation on Shelley, not on him. We talkedabout Shelley, then about Henry Roth, an¬other writer of Farrell's generation. Wediscussed two other Chicagoans whomoved between Chicago and New York,Nelson Algren and Saul Bellow.Farrell excused himself after a shorttime so that he could get back to the Quad¬rangle Club, where he wanted to write hisdaily five pages of his newest novel. Toughguy that he was, he surely wrote those fivepages a day until he died in his sleep on Au¬gust 22.U — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979Clue: It’s the bank that works in theneighborhood that works.It took nine financial institutions in all, butthe Hyde Park Bank was the lead bank.We worked hard to make the Racquet Cluba part of Hyde Park, and that work has paid off.Because today the club is an invaluable asset tothe community and is open for your enjoyment.•# 4*Take a study break!Relax after exams!Relax before exams!See the Maroons Men’s Basketball home openervs Trinity Christian Saturday, 12/8 7:30 p.m.Also: Concordia (Michigan) Saturday, 12/153:00 p.m.The Maroon Holiday Tournament, Tuesday andWednesday, 12/18 and 12/19 (Chicago, Eureka,Grinnell, Siena Heights (Michigan)Games at 6 p.m. and 8 p.m.All at henry Crown Field House (entrance at 56thand Greenwood).Support your teams!NOTICE TO ALL STUDENTS & EMPLOYEES...The University Health Service will be closedDec. 22, 24, 25, 29, 31 and Jan. 1. 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II%AVAILABLEThe developers are offering model units forinspection every Sat. and Sun. between land 5 p.m.36 apts:24- l bedroom, l bath from 30,350-37,0006 - 2 bedrooms, l both from 37,000-38,8506 - 2 bedrooms, 2 bath from 46,000-46,900All apartments include new kitchens and appliances,new bathrooms, carpeting and decorating (colors ofyour choice), triple-track storm windows and kitchenstorm doors, modern laundry facilities and individuallocker space.Your inspection is invited,51 26 S. Kimbark Ave. - Phone 643-4489Harry A. Zisook & Sons, Agts.786-9200 lIllllIIlllStop in and check out the facilities at 1301 East 47th Street.lt hastennis, handball and racquetball courts, jogging track, weight and exer¬cise rooms, saunas, whirlpool baths, a special events room and anattended nursery.We think the Racquet Club is a big achievement and were proud tosay we played a leadership role in bringing it to you.Remember that we can bring the same leadership, resources andcapabilities to you and your business interests, as well.Talk to one of our bankers about getting your business or yourexpansion plans off the ground.After all, this kind of help is what you should expect from a bankthat works as hard as we do—right here in your neighborhood.THE HYDEThe bank that worksin the neighborhood that works.Hyde Park Bank and Trust Company. 1525 East 53rd Street, Chicago, Illinois 60615 (312) 752-4600 * Member FlMCThe Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 15Gutter\ John Cage, and Mr. CleanEmpty Wordsby John CageWesleyan University PressMusic After Modernismby Samuel LipmanBasic BooksBy Rory McGahanIt might be a good way to think oftwentieth century music, its huge varietyof sounds and shapes, as a landscape —or better, a series of landscapes openingout onto one another. There are pastoralfields (Vaughan Williams) which lead outto a rocky sea coast (Benjamin Britten).There are clean and wide Midwesternplains (Roy Harris) leading out to anexpansive desert of slowly shifting sands(Elliot Carter). There are literallyhundreds of these individualizedterritories: cut-up land, charted, tilled,and stretches occasionally overgrownwith weeds. The worlds of sound conjuredup by composers and performers havebeen varied, occasionally indulgent,mannered or hysterical, but oftencharming, honest, direct, and'clear-sighted.Twentieth century musical landscape isa wonderful clutter. But not everybodylikes clutter or musicologists and Mr.Clean critics latch on to the shards ofdiscarded styles, compositional methods,and movements to safely lock away themusic which uses them. For these typesa work is composed using "serial" or"aleatory" methods; it's "nationalistic"or "international serialist"; it's"neoclassical," "expressionist," or"minimalist," and that's that. Amongthese Mr. Clean critics is SamuelLipman, the author of Music AfterModernism, and music critic for Commentary and the Times LiterarySupplement. Scissors, jars, and labels inhand, he sets out to translate the varietyof modern music into something asmanageable as the nineteenth centuryrepertoire he learned as a pianist.His book is often vague, obtuse, orarbitrary, but — it must be admitted —rarely dull. He writes in a hyped up,jazzy style ("And yet, lurking behind thisstriking achievement, lies the questionwhich today plagues schools everywhere,distinguished and undistinguished alike;Music education for what?"); but thereare far too many stretches of the haughtyand high-falutin' ("While this criticismmay well be justified, it ignores the factthat the immanent tendency of virtuosoperformance is self-exhibition ratherthan self-abnegation.") There's also agood deal of the breezy andwell-intentioned talk that characterizeschildren's biographies ("Thus do thegreats and their intimates speak of theircontemporaries."). The chapters of thebook are lackadaisically written andorganized, often filled with aspace-swallowing phrase-patchingjournalese:"He (Yehudi Menhuhin) has notshied away from the difficult (andstill knotty for the audience) worksof Bartok, and has recentlyrecorded the concerto of AlbanBerg with Pierre Boulez.Contenting himself neither withalready existing masterworks norwith the romantic pieces obligatoryfor virtuoso violinists, he hascommissioned works from suchfamous composers as Bartok andErnest Block, and fromlesser-known writers as well." All the pieces of the volumes — withthe exception of two chapters and somevague interstitial material — havealready appeared in one or another of thetwo magazines Lipman writes for.However much Lipman may like tomakedebunking argumentsjgainst modernismwith them, the topicality of material suchas his review of the English translation ofCosima Wagner's diaries, or ones of theNew York City Opera's production of DreMeistersinger tends to make his entireargument against modernism seemplodding.Lipman's table of content, makes itobvious that he's already put himself intoa hole. Among the composers he treats atlength we find Schoenberg, Stravinsky,Wagner, Mahler, even Rachmaninoff andCopland. But Debussy, Webern, Bartokare almost nowhere to be found in thepages of Music After Modernism. Theperformers he examines are equallyeccentric. The Llhevines are there,Horowitz, Menuhin; but where areToscanini, Edwin Fischer, Furtwaengler,Schnabel, Casals? He has good reasonsfor making the choices he does: theypoint up what he wants to emphasize —the tradition of the RussianConservatory, the virtuoso, and theprodigy. But he does not get into thesources of the "New Objectivity"spearheaded back in the twenties by suchtypes as Toscanini, Erich Kleiber,Klemperer, and Schanbel, individualswho are still very influential today. Heignores the importance of the Germantradition of dedication to the "spirit" ofthe music, exemplified by Furtwaengler,Edwin Fischer, Adolf Busch, AlfredBrendel, and Karajan.And it's not simply Lipman's range ofobservation that's so annoying (it is not possible to generalize about musical lifein general from musical life in NewYork: musical life in New York is onlytypical of musical life in New York). Hedoesn't play fair with the facts either.One can give Lipman the benefit of thedoubt when he claims that Stravinsky'swork through the forties is in the samevein as Le acre Du Printemps, or whenhe claims that Stravinsky's music is notmemorable. But after a while this sort ofthing — saying that Mahler's emotionalrange is restricted to depression, despair,and disillusionment — just gets tedious.Lipman's slippery use ofelegant but empty expressions becomesunbearable.It's fine, even useful at times, to speakof "individual artistic essences" and"inspired, quasi-divine geniuses," ofperfect relations of means and ends"," orto insist that x or y is "music" or "themusic"; but when he keeps going on inthis fashion without every tying theterms down to particular usages, onemust have doubts about whether hemeans anything at all by them. Maybe hefinds, after listening to all the recordedversions of Wagner's ring or theBeethoven Symphonies in succession,score in hand, that the differences amongthem are "essentially nugatory," that it'sthe same "music." Of courseFurtwaengler and Toscanini, inconducting the first movement of theBeethoven Pastoral Symphony, workedfrom the same score, but does it tell usanything to say that the differencebetween Furtwaengeler's poised andflowing version and Toscanini's harriedand spring-loaded one don't matter,because it's the same music?This is all not to say that there aren'tperceptive comments in Music AfterJosten’sPersonalizedSignet RingYour College Ring designedwith a personal touch...Order from your Josten’s College Ring Specialist Attention!Attention!Attention!The Josten ring representative will he in thebookstore on Wed., December 12, and Thurs.,Dec. 13 to accept orders for class rings at a10% discount. Please place your order at thistime.Then...A void the Christmas rush at homo anil soloctgifts from around tho world atthe University of Chicago Bookstore16 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979Modernism. Lipman's comments onAaron Copland's style, about its"rhythmic variety and freedom," the"struggle-type counterpoint," and the"long arching melodies of quietintensity" and their effects upon thelistener, are all right on the mark, fineand well-documented. Too bad the effectof such fine insights is obliterated by thepolemical confusion of such passages asthe following, about John Cage's WinterMusic:"The musical notation isambiguous, and what is more, whatis notated is unplayable. As musicthis makes no impression at all.But as a sonic environment itconjures up a world without plan,purpose, meaning, or value. Thesounds suggest a Rorschach testadministered by a Dadapsychologist; its meaning in theeye (ear) of the beholder (listener),and its wit can be fully appreciatedonly by those hostile to the idea oforganized social life."The logical gaps and stylistic lapses hereare enormous and embarrassing.Cage himself, composer, Zen Buddhist,and mycologist is no slouch when itcomes to writing manifestoes, screwylectures and such — so he's come outwith a new book too. And what a book itis. Cage is a devotee of clutter: no Mr.Clean he. Cage takes the everyday andtransforms it into somethingquasi-musical. He takes passages romThoreau's Journals and Finnegans Wake,the eating habits of certain members ofMerce Cunningham's dance troupe,anecdotes about his friends Norman O.Brown, Morris Graves, et. al; he takesthem and gives them new unity and anew meaning by removing them from their context.The "Series Re Moris Graves" and"Empty Words", two of the longestpieces in the volume are central to anunderstanding of Cage's musical andliterary interests. In the "Series ReMorris Graves" Cage creates amarvelous tribute to his friend and aclear vision of the creative process. Hetakes his reminiscences, thoughts byCage and Graves about art, its techniqueand purpose, about the character ofGraves and his work, and prints it all instanzas between some "non-syntacticaldance chants" composed of "syllables ofnames and words from l-Chingdetermined pages of the Gospel of SriRamakrishna."With this piece and with "EmptyWords" Cage brings language closer tomusic by breaking down its syntax. In"Empty Words" he first omits phrasesfrom certain passages of Thoreau'sJournal, and then omits words. In the endletters and silences are left. This work isintended like the "Series Re MorrisGraves" to be read out loud. In fact all ofCage's writing is probably reallyintended in its rhythmical grace to beread out loud. What one is left with is ascore for vocal performance: open-endedsounds and the overall rhythmicstructure (the placing of the letters onthe page). This whole attempt to breakI up Lipman's musicological categories, to! erase all the labels on his jars, is guidedby a fine sensibility for writing, a realcontrol of words. He's thought about all\ of the words in an essay like the! concluding one on "The Future OfMusic" or like the opening one onI Thoreau and politics. This talent comes| in handy when he has to deal with hisj own natural optimism andi soft-headedness ("Our leaders areconcerned with inflation and insufficienti cash. Money, however, is credit, and credit is confidence. We have lostconfidence in one another. We couldregain it tomorrow by changing ourminds."). One of the mesostics — littlepoems Cage now substitutes for his old| anecdotes — provides a good example ofI how well the lean, tight-lipped sentencesj and elliptical expressions work for him:"Wright's Oberlin HouseRestored by E. Johnson"you wEre rigntto incLudethe detaiLof thEpiaNo.housEitseLfmusicaL:sound of thEwiNd."With the surprises and open-endednessof Cage's music and this book, his piecesfor radios in which the performers flipthe channels in a rhythmical pattern, theopen-form works like the Music OfChanges, which are like bags into whichanything can be dropped and fit, one seesthese old things anew. These pieces, likethe present essays are perfect examplesof good and well controlled clutter. Goodclutter — there is good clutter as well asbad just as there is a neatness whichexpresses only emptiness and not order— provides a constant opportunity to seethings and hear things in new ways andnew combinations, always surprising andshocking. It also makes no attempt to bean end, but a beginning."the fuN we have talkingis to nO avail,we neveR coMeto the end of A subjectsomethiNg always remainsto Be said.you must make otheRpeoplefeel the same Way; that thought goesoN and on ——that nothingever comes to an end."With the final essay, "The Future ofMusic", Cage rejoices in the possibilities; of clutter, the maze of musical methods,etc. With these "Our experience of time: has changed. We notice brief events that| formerly might have escaped our noticeand we enjoy very long ones, ones thatwould have been considered, say fifteen| years ago, intolerable." But SamuelLipman, Music Critic, won't stand forthis being done to his ears. He returnswith his index cards to file away themusic of the past, especially that of thenineteenth century — which Mr. Lipmanhas a special nostalgia for."For those of us who are lesssated, due to the prodigious gift ofthe nineteenth century (and before)there is surely enough music ofquality and contrast for everyone.And as far as the needs areconcerned, the work ofmusicological, historical, andintellectual classification has onlybarely begun."But the twentieth century musical clutteris too fascinating and compelling to pushaside so easily. Cage may get silly attimes, but he seems right in celebratingi the beauty and richness of what Lipmanso disparagingly calls "modernist"1 music.Cafe Enrico1411 E. 53rd St.Our25thAnniversarySpecialAll you can eat menuFried Chicken $3.50Ocean Perch $3.75Lasagne $3.25Rib Tips $4.50with cole slaw and potatoestossed salad. 50$ extra7 days a week11:30 am-1:00 amThursday nightBeer Night60 oz pitcheronly$1.75 We GiveCASHFor UsedRecords1701 E. 55th684-3375THE DRINKI TEACH YOU,YOU WILL EXECUTE,AND IT SHALLGO HARD, BUTYOU WILLBETTER THEINSTRUCTION.JIMMYSICE CREAM • ICE CREAMSPECIALTY ITEMS & DESSERTSHAND PACKED ICE CREAMOilie /lei filer Sroi.DAVID - GEORGE • PETER5220 SOUTH HARPER AVE.CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60615(312) 288-5256TWO (2) DAY NOTICEFOR PARTY ITEMSOpen Seven Days a Week PIZZA PLATTER1460 E. 53rdM13-2800 No deliveryCDe3 V~r_—LiilJlfIfc ■ IWSJrL.-, ,->* i|mi a '.4/' |Melton-woolcoat withdetachableplaid scarfby Zero KingNavy or Camel$140-Discover **lhe/ero ,Kingdom. *<•j w VvtVs\\ ■:* <HYDE PARK SHOPPING CENTERCHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60615 HYDE PARK PIPE RND TOBRCCO SHOP1552 E. 53rd - Under IC tracksStudents under 30 get 10% offask for “Big Jim'Mon. - Sat. 9-8: Sun. 12-5PipesPipe Tobaccos, Imported Cigarettes Cigars.The The Chicago Council on Fine Art*invite* you toCelebrate CityArts 1979with aPoetry Reading & Book PartyforEipenor Books’ new publicationofWilliam Hunt'sOCEANS AND CORRIDORS OF ORPHEUSThe Chicago Public Library Cultural Center78 East Washington StreetFridaythe Seventh Day of Decemberninteen hundred and seventy-nineat800 p.m.inThe Cultural Center TheatreReception FollowingG.A.R. RotundaUse Randolph Street EntranceR.S.V.P. 744-6630This publication is one of sixty-nine projects funded throughThe Chicago Council on Fine Arts CityArts grants programCity of ChicagoJane M Byrne, Mayor(cut here)Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 17by Bill Monroe"Narrative: The illusion of Sequence" was the offi¬cial title of an interdisciplinary symposium spon- isored by the University of Chicago Extension andheld at the center for Continuing Education south ofthe Midway. The three day Conference (October26-28) was sold out long before it began, largely because Joan Cowan and Joyce Feucht-Haviar, whoconceived and directed the Conference, were able toattract a preeminent group of literary critics, psy¬chologists, and philosophers. Even within thisgroup, however, one name received special atten¬tion: Jacques Derrida, perhaps today's most cele¬brated theorist of language and literature, wasscheduled to address the Conference. His majorworks — Of Grammatology, Writing and Dif¬ference, and just this year, Spurs: Nietzsche'sStyles — have, according to the Conference pro¬gram notes, "been influential in opening new direc¬tions in thinking about the potentials of languageand expression."The PlayersDerridiansOracle/Sophist/Priest Jacques Derrida,Maitre-Assistant,Department of Philosophy,Ecole Normale SuperieureHermeneutic Harlequin Paul de Man,Departments of Frenchand Comparative Literature,Yale UniversityKnave Hayden White, Program in the Historyof Consciousness, Univ. ofCalifornia, Santa CruzSecret Sharer Frank Kermode, Kings College,CambridgeBarbariansSaint Paul Ricoeur, Divinity School,Dept, of Philosophy, Committee ,on Social Thought, Chicago, *and Dept, of Philosophy, \University of Paris |Professor... Victor Turner, Dept, of Anthropology,Univ. of Virginia, and Member !Center for Advanced StudiesSkeptic Robert Scholes, Departments of !English, Comparative Literature, jand Semiotic Studies, Brown :University jExorcist Donald Pease, Dept, of English,Dartmouth College ;IndependentsCritic Barbara Hernstein Smith, Departmentsof English and Communications,Univ. of PennsylvaniaScapegoat Seymour Chatman, jDept, of Rhetoric, !Univ. of California, Berkeley iChorus Ursula K. Le Guin, author of fantasy !and speculative fictionAlienist Roy Schafer, Dept, of Psychiatry,Cornell University, andAdjunct Professor at New 'jYork UniversityDon't mistake my irony. The Narrative Confer¬ence was undoubtedly one of the more significantintellectual events of the decade. For many, including myself, it was also one of the most delightful. Ifyou hunger for significance, you will have to waituntil next fall when Critical Inquiry publishes theformal presentations — some undoubtedly radicallyrevised in response to criticism and confrontation.The confrontation, itself, though, will be absentfrom the pages of the learned journal, and it wasthis give and take exchange that was such a delightto witness. So I have decided to present the Conference as a dramatic apologue, a confrontation ofideas (as indeed it was), complete with heroes,champions, villains, and fools. Not that any one ofthese intellectuals is actually a villain or fool in "real life," as we used to naively say; but at theNarrative Conference, the "play" in which theyperformed, our savants did take on various roles.And it is these roles, and this play, that I am hereattempting to narrate, if you will.Act I, Scene i: Ministering to Diseased MindsOur "action," which is purely linguistic and ges¬tural, begins when H. Ranlet Lincoln, dean of theExtension School and moderator of the Conference,welcomes all speakers, panel members, honoredguests, and participants. He introduces RoySchafer, a practicing psychoanalyst, whose clinicalexperience lends his comments an empirical validi¬ty which would be respected in many circles. Hiscentral claims are that psychoanalysis is actually anarrative process in which the analyst and the an-alysand are joint authors; and, more importantly,that the "authors" of the "work" are themselvesconstructed through their narrative.The narrator: Bill Monroe"Other people and our selves are not things thatwe encounter," Schafer says, "but they are talesthat we tell."Later, Merton Gill challenges what he sees to berampant relativism "Can we simply tell any talewe want to, and thereby become whomever weplease?" Gill asks about Schafer's borrowing ofWayne Booth's concept of the "unreliable narra¬tor": "If there are unreliable storytellers," heargues, "then there must be unreliable stories. Dr.Schafer talks of fixing up and integrating stories —that is the job of the psychoanalyst — but then theremust be 'bad' stories that require such repairs."Gill concludes by asking a question that Lincoln willmanfully try to make a focal point throughout theplay: "For analysis," Gill asks, "what makes onestory better than another?"As a psychoanalytic practitioner, Schafer isready with a reply. Reminding us that we have onlyversions of what is "out there/' and that we cannever acquire absolute truth, he argues that we canjudge a story told by an analysand and revised byan analyst by its utility — by its ability to makechange possible.But Schafer, though he is willing to invoke Kant,who "should have taught us that there is no 'given'w.thout a 'taken'," did not face the harder questioninherent in Gill's remarks. An analysand is presum¬ably uncomfortable: he wants change, improve¬ment, and so a new telling of his story can be judgedby its clinical, ameliorative capacity. This is a"practical" mode of evaluation that is not applic¬able to literary or historical narratives. Dr.Schafer, in fact, has sacrificed nothing of his profes¬sional self-esteem by denying reality, the "outthere."(I find myself wondering if Dr. Schafer would em¬brace the Kantian, Berkeleyan "imagination" sofervently if his iob were constructing historical nar¬ratives like this one rather than psychoanalytic nar¬ratives with patients who need behavior modifica¬tion? Indeed, this question will be raised by HenryStaten of the University of Utah. Commenting onHayden White's assertion that all narrative is reactionary, Staten says that "Dr. Schafer's mode ofpsychoanalytic narrative can be seen as the coercion of the individual by society. Society arbitrarilydecides what constitutes insanity, and then employspsychoanalysts to enforce its arbitrary definition bymodifying the stories told to them by 'crazy' pa¬tients." But I am getting ahead of myself — back tothe play.) Dr. Schafer's denial of "reality" has not been suf¬ficient, it seems, for he has made a naive mistake inhis sophisticated attack on naive empiricism. Ac¬cording to Paul de Man, Dr. Schafer's discussion isbased on a hermeneutic model. "I am surprised,"de Man says, "that no mention has been made oflinguistic structures." The language used by the an¬alyst and analysand, like any other "text," is sub¬ject to indeterminancies and ambiguities, de Manl explains. Though he doesn't say so, de Man is invokJ ing the so-called gap between the "signifier" andi the "signified," between the spoken sound (theword) and the "thing" signified by the word. By sodoing, de Man is accusing Schafer of one of the car¬dinal sins of contemporary literary criticism: as¬suming that language is transparent — specifically,that an analyst can understand what an analysand| tells him.Robert Scholes, fully understanding where thediscussion has led, asks if an extreme relativism orsolipsism is the only alternative to the naive empiri¬cal position that Schafer attacks."One of Dr. Schafer's patients thought he wasbeing watched by thousands of men in three-piece! suits," Scholes reminds the group. "Don't we haveto decide first whether thousands of conservativedressers were actually watching him?"Scholes says that Dr. Schafer immediately rea¬lized that the patient had been hallucinating, andthis determination, Scholes says, proves that "onemust make a judgment about the truth of the storiestold by an analysand. We must decide about the possibility of the stories before we can make any thera¬peutic decisions at all."Act I, Scene ii: The Politics of NarrationPaul Ricoeur, whom I instictively admire butwhose talk I find difficult to comprehend — read itnext fall in Cl — is followed by Hayden White withhis analysis of historical narratives. ThoughWhite's concern is with historical rather than psy¬choanalytic narratives, he enmeshes himself in thequestions raised after Schafer's talk: can narra¬tives portray events that are real, that is, that actu¬ally happened in a certain way at a certain time;and, secondly, what criteria can we use to say thatone story (or history) is better than another?White delineates three kinds of histories: annals,the most "primitive" form; chronicles, a morestructured, "fuller" account; and the more famil¬iar, narrative histories which he says become domi¬ nant only after the eighteenttWhen the discussion begins,jected these narrative higrounds. "Narrativity is the; and change only for an elite,' argues. "It gives the illusionherent, consistent, and orde! that for virtually all of the w| chronicles were the dominar1 and for most of the world toecoherence were and are chirm"Narrative," White says, "|| provides a past-present-futurwhich preserves the status qiabiding citizenship."Tom Mitchell, the first to- minds him that such a thesioral histories. Annals, Mitchibeing clues to a wholly differety for medieval historians, m' nificant notes which were nevcal accounts. Citing Roots andMovement, Mitchell asks, "Iwritten, fully narrative hischange the status quo?" Whiti don't think so."By now the absurdity of hi;I but White persists. Organic,| narratives always work to suety; inorganic, discordant nato subvert bourgeois society.Ricoeur counters White's sihis passionate erudition: "E<nally conservative," he says.'lution of October is very miFrench Marxists." Ricoeur cnot see the link between "ermizing. "Why cannot plotasks."Because emplottedness iitherefore supports the status <orthodoxy," White replies. "Fplot, and that's why they areAt this audacious claim — tlack plot — the two professipanel, Richard Stern and Ureach other and grunt their di;in full retreat, attempts to retorical position: the invocatiorination and the denial of reali"A story is something that ifound," White asserts. "Edito18 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979iference as a Socio-Intellectio Drama(in Three Acts)and Paul de Mansenth-century.gins, White has already re; histories on politicals the image of continuity?lite, privileged class/' hesion that reality is full, co¬ordered/' White suggestshe world when annals andlinant historical forms —d today — such order andchimeras.^s, "permits gradations; itfuture temporal structureus quo and reinforces law->t to challenge White, re¬thesis completely ignoreslitchell suggests, far fromfferent conception of reali-s, might actually be insig; never intended as histori-5 and histories of the Labors, "Isn't it possible that a‘ history could work toWhite's churlish reply: "I)f his position is manifest,nic, cause precedes effectto support bourgeois soci-it narratives always workety.f's simplistic formula with"Event/ess history is fi-3ys. "That is why the revoy much an event for the:ur confesses that he can-"emplotting" and legiti-jlot be subversive?" hess implies an order anditus quo and socio politicals. "Flaubert's novels lackare subversive.") — that Flaubert's novelsfessional novelists on the1 Ursula Le Guin, look toir disbelief. So White, now\o repair to Schafer's rheation of the Kantian imagreality.hat is constructed and notEditors tell reporters to 'go Paul Ricoeur: "Why cannot plot be subversive?"get the story,' and people are always telling me to| 'get the story straight.' This is nonsense. Stories cani be true, maybe, but not real."| (I am wondering, as I report Hayden White's dis¬comfiture, if the real Mr. White — not the characterI in this play, but the one who eats, and sleeps, anddeplores injustice — wouldn't that Mr. White wantmy story to be correct, wouldn't he be inclined totake me aside after reading it and say, "Look, Idon't know who you are or what you think you'redoing, but before you make a fool of me in print,you'd better ge the story straight.")Act II, Scene i: Get the GoatBarbara Hernstein Smith, whose attack on Hay¬den White in the last act for failing to recognize thedifferent purposes of historical discourse — e.g.,chronography, reporting, recording, memorializing— went unreported, is now going after SeymourChatman for daring to compare written narration to The Place: The Center for Continuing Educationfilm narration. Throughout the conference, as amatter of fact, Smith does a palpable imitation of RS. Crane, always ready to remind folks, though un¬fortunately in a rather schoolmarmish manner, thatit is folly to compare apples and oranges.Chatman, you see, has circulated copies of a para¬graph from de Maupassant's story "A Country Ex¬cursion" and has closely examined (with slow mo¬tion and stop frame techniques, no less) the "same"sequence in Jean Renoir's screen version of thestory, "A Day in the Country.""These are two different mediums," Smith objects, "and it is impossible for a film to depict the'same' events portrayed in a written work of litera¬ture." Her objection, brutally simplified, seems tobe based on a sort of "medium is the message"model of art; while Chatman counters by trying toidentify a "deep structure" which is independent ofthe medium and merely communicated by it.The disputation is left unresolved, but a potential¬ly more explosive one has been simmering sinceChatman began his talk. He has made a tacticalerror in selecting the paragraph/film sequence tobe analyzed, for he has chosen a description of Ma¬demoiselle Dufour, "a pretty girl of about eight¬een," and according to de Maupassant, "one ofthose women who suddenly excite your desire whenyou meet them in the street and who leave you witha vague feeling of uneasiness and of excited senses.. . . Her dress clearly marked the outlines of herfirm, full figure, which was accentuated by the mo¬tion of her hips as she tried to swing herselfhigher."This passage, probably chosen only because its"naughtiness" is just the thing to hold the attentionof Berkeley undergraduates, is clearly a mistakewith this audience — or at least with one offendedfeminist philosopher from Lewis University whosepuffs, growls, and derisive cackles have visibly un¬settled Chatman and provoked him to plead for for¬bearance several times. "You must understand,"he whines, "this is de Maupassant, not me. We aretrying to explicate a text here, and this material isin the text."His pleas, of course, are to no avail: our lady ofLewis has thrust up her hand several times duringChatman's presentation, and now that he is seatedshe is adamantly waving while the panelists discussfilm and fiction. Lincoln, who is a superb and clevermoderator, has surely seen her, but he continues tocall on members of the panel who challenge Chat¬man's critical assumptions or his intellectualtools.But by now it is obvious that our heckler is not tobe denied her moment on the stage, which hasbegun to resemble a bull-ring, and the entire conference is bracing itself for what will surely be a mer¬ciless mastication of that chauvinist reprobate andpurveyor of pornography, Seymour Chatman. Lincoin is directing this faena masterfully, calling oneveryone, even members of the audience, but deftlyavoiding feminism's scourge and minister, softening up Chatman with other picador questioners,so that when the thrust comes it will be a clean kill.Chatman's ever more tentative defensive chargessignal that the end must be near.But what has happened? Can this be a part of theplay, a deus ex machine rescue? Hardly, for Lincoin himself is confused. Con fused indeed: it is ablown fuse in the Center for Continuing Educationthat is responsible. Lincoln, Chatman, the panelists,the audience, and the brand of God herself sit to gether in the darkness. Minutes pass. Some start forthe exits. Finally, Lincoln concedes and adjournsthe session. Our matadorian feminist has literallybeen defused, and the hoary old satyr slips out in the| darkness, still intact.Act II, Scene ii: SecretsFrank Kermode, by means of an utterly charming, wittily British presentation, returns the Conference to the more abiding issues. Like Hayden WhiteKermode is interested in that which subverts narrative, those fifth columns which destroy "the comforts of sequence."White's historical annals hearkened up a rather happy, romantic primitivismand Kermode seems concerned with the same anarchical elements in fiction: that unbridled material which undermines the authority of a text, the"stuff" that is indifferent or hostile to the sequence,the theme, or the ethos, those enemies of order —those "secrets."White likes Kermode's presentation. "ProfessorKermode is telling us that sequentiality has a do¬mesticating effect," he says, feeling vindicated ofhis earlier embarrassment. "The ordinary goodreader looks for order, sequence, message; theproper reader skips the improprieties." (For "ordi¬nary good reader" and "proper reader" read"filthy bourgeois reader.")Ricoeur, trying to make sense of Kermode's se¬crets, anticipates attempts by Scholes and others tounderstand Derrida's oracular murmurings in thenext Act. Ricoeur is searching for a means of interpretation that will account for both the "proper"material and the "secrets."But Kermode, as Derrida's avant garde, rebuffsRicoeur's ordering attempt: "My secrets are notsusceptible to interpretation," Kermode declares."The more one domesticates improprieties, the lessthey remain secrets. Secrets are culturally destruc¬tive, anomalous material which cannot be'read.' "But it seems that even secrets are not anomalousenough, for Kermode, like Schafer, has left himselfopen to de Man's deconstruction of his position. "Bydesignating these things as secrets, we have giventhem a place," de Man says. "Secrecy is thereforenot so mysterious. It is recuperable — ProfessorKermode did it quite well."Surprisingly, as in the play's first scene, despitewhat would seem to be the last possible remark —again a "deconstructionist" coup delivered by deMan — doggedly and naively, the discussion contin¬ues. Paul Hernadi, a literary theorist from Hungarynow at the University of Iowa, wonders whetherprofessors (like Kermode) may read too slowly."We play a piece of music at a certain rate — alle¬gro, andante, presto, and so forth," Hernadi says."We should realize that the question of the speed ofthe performance or the term of the performance inliterature may be important in our interpretation. Aprofessor may read at a rate different from thatwhich the text demands."Scholes, formerly at Iowa, takes his colleague'scue: "The Devil makes work for idle hands," hejokes. In a gentle gibe against White, he says thatprofessors love to work with minimal, proto narra¬tives which seem to demand interpretation; and referring to Kermode, he says, "We also like the anti¬narratives and the excessive texts, the texts thatpresent special problems. By focussing on these,"Scholes says, "we give ourselves power and authority in the face of texts."(The Scholes vs. Kermode battle, and its rhetoric,presages the climactic Derrida confrontation in thenext Act, for the moral issues and accusations areonly thinly veiled by the intellectual exchange. Ker¬mode, for instance, is accusing critics of "exorcis¬ing" secrets from a text; he disparages the "good"reader who has the "proprietary" desire to find"order" and the "comforts" of sequence in a novel.This may be his intellectual target, but his moralcondemnation is directed toward a self satisfiedconfidence, a belief in society, and property, andGod. Scholes, on the other hand, is obliquely accusing Kermode and White of an irresponsible and punitive exercise of power. His moral implication isthat both the critic and the historiographer aremore interested in self aggrandizement and thesubversion of a socio political system than they arein literature and history. It is not their love of ancontinued on page 20The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 1920 U my brain seems judgy. 99continued from page 19archical texts, then, but their hatred of andrivalry with the bourgeoisie that motivatesthe “intellectual" rhetoric of Kermode andWhite.)Act III, Scene DerridaWell, this is what we paid to see. It's Sat¬urday afternoon, everyone has eatenlunch, and the conference room has begunto fill early. The ushers come through andtell everyone to leave: there is a suspicionthat interlopers will try to get a peek atJacques. We are allowed to return imme¬diately, but we must show our officialbadges, which we dutifully do. The excite¬ment is heightened by the fact that virtual¬ly everyone on the panel has commentedon the presentations thus far — that is, ev¬eryone but Derrida.Now it is his turn to speak, to address usall. What will he say? and how? Will hespeak in tongues? Here is, after all, thehigh priest of “deconstruction," the cham¬pion of the “gap" between signifier andsignified, the oracle of infinite regress.Here is the one, in fact, who has given hisname to the process (we call it Derridian)of showing that discourse is self-reflexive— that is, that a novel, say, can only be“about" itself. Surely the profundity of histhought and the reflexivity of his discoursewill make his address unintelligible to thelikes of me.Derrida does not disappoint me. Per¬haps it is the lunch, and not only my dearthof mental alacrity, that results in the twoshort naps I take during his presentation.Yes, it must be the lunch, and the time ofday, for people are rushing out for coffeenow that Derrida has finished. Some areconfessing to having understood only bitsand pieces; others admit that they had tro¬uble staying “tuned in."One of the panel members says candid¬ly, "I stayed tuned in the whole time anddidn't understand a word." Ursula Le Guinjokes that she will be administering atrue/false test on Derrida's talk at the endof the day. Most seem bemused, but mosthave also been seduced by this gentle, sec¬ular ayatollah."Didn't you feel the pure energy, the vi¬tality of him?" a woman asks me."There was a beautiful, sinister poetryabout his performance," a philosophy stu¬dent observes.There are those who are transfixed byhis lyrical Gallic chants and his crypticblackboard runes. (Is it true that the chalkwas sold after the Conference s a relic?)At least one participant even claims tohave understood Derrida's meaning, thecontent of his recitation. But isn't under¬standing content — that which is signified— exactly what Derridian analysis "prob-lematizes"? No matter. This man, whoreads a lot of Carlos Castaneda, has alsoread quite a bit of Derrida — that's why, hesays, that he is able to ascertain the philos¬opher's argument.Act III, Scene Apres DerridaNow we must return to the conferenceroom where Victor Turner is expressinghis ambivalence about being "derriereDerrida." His presentation is coming atprecisely the right time, though: "SocialDramas and Tales about Them" discussesritual and the narrative mode borne fromit not as rigid, legitimizing activities, butas models and vehicles for change. (Likepsychoanalytic narratives?) Revolu¬tionary it is not; but ritual, according toTurner, incorporates "infinite, anti-struc¬tural depth.'"Ritual includes an abyss," Turnersays. "It moves from the indicative mood,through the subjunctive mood, to a new in¬dicative mood which has been enriched bythe infinite possibility of the subjunctivemood." This attempt to "place" the "infi¬nite, anti-structural abyss" puts Turner inthe camp of Scholes and Ricoeur.Barbara Myerhoff, also an anthropolo¬gist, underscores Turner's point: "Ritualdoes have a transformative effect on■ tWo*0 ' order; it does not, however, posit a Man-ichean struggle between order and dis¬order."Yet it is just such a Manichean strugglethat Derrida's presentation has assumed.He, like other panel members (and my¬self), perceives the Conference as a socialdrama. But for Derrida the social drama isa closed ritual with oppressive rules — oras he says, "laws." "The law speaks En¬glish here," he says, joking to make apoint. He has been compelled to provide anabstract of his presentation for the Confer¬ence Program pamphlet, and this demandis itself confining, an order by "the law"that he, Derrida, give an account of whathe intends to say. It is precisely his enter¬prise, it seems, to villify such demands,and by implication those who makethem.To this end he has mockingly included adefinition of "abstract" in his abstract,and has chosen Maurice Blanchot's Lafolie du jour as the text he will explicate."The very short text which I will discussmakes the recit (narration, account, or ab¬stract) and the impossibility of the recit itstheme," he explains. This theme, Derridasays, "is at once inaccessible, indetermin¬able, interminable, and inexhaustible."La folie du jour seems to be about the in¬terrogation of a man by officials of thelaw; one of these, a police magistrate, de¬mands to know exactly (au juste) whathappened. But the "I" of Blanchot's textcannot give a satisfactory recit, and thelast few lines of the "story" are identicalto the first lines, thus leading us back intothe text, according to Derrida.The story goes on, as it were: the de¬mand for an account of what happened is"again" made and the desire for an ac¬count is "again" frustrated. Thus this textseems to be written not within the limits ofa genre or mode, "but rather about theirvery subject, and with the aim of disrupt¬ing the order of these limits." In this case,Blanchot's anomalous text disrupts thelimits of the recit."In this text," Derrida says, "the recit isnot only a mode, and a practised mode orone put to the test because it is deemed im¬possible; it is also the name of a theme, itis the non-thematizable thematic contentof something of a textual form that re¬gards a point of view with respect to thegenre even though it perhaps does notcome under the heading of any genre andperhaps no longer even under the headingof literature, you'll understand why."(No, I won't understand why, for mybrain, by this time, seems dark and fudgy;my attention soon wanders to a wry con¬versation overheard between two panelmembers during the break:"The high point of the Conference for mehad to be the lighting of Derrida's ciga¬rette.""He smokes, and didn't have a match, soyou . . . ?""That's right.""Well, then, you enlightened him — con¬gratulations.")Act III, Scene iii: The Eristic SophistBack onstage, Scholes, certainly one ofthe benighted, is pressing the now enlight¬ened if not enlightening Derrida: "We al¬ready have a generic terminology withwhich to locate texts like Blanchot's,"Scholes claims. "We call them 'metafic¬tion,' and we have many other examples offiction 'outside' or on the edge — Gass andBarth, for instance." Again someone hastried to name the supposedly "unname-able" and again he is rebuked. "The Lawdemands a recit because it (she) isafraid," Derrida tells Scholes. The impli¬cation is clear: Scholes' attempts to cate¬gorize Blanchot and to interpret Derridaare borne of fear.Paul Ricoeur, his nimbus splendid,comes to Scholes' defense: "All laws arenot inquisitory," he says. "To look forrules in narrative — this is not a police ac¬tion." Ricoeur argues that the story de¬manded by the agents of the Law in Blan¬chot's text is a simple account, not a richlycomplex recit. "There is no secrecy, no A plotless moment at the Narrative Conference.depth, no liminality in such an account."Tom Mitchell, like Scholes and Ricoeur,does not see the reflexivity of Blanchot'stext as an unresolvable or particularlyspecial problem. "One way of looking atallegory," he says, "is to see it as a modewhich keeps 'the truth' perpetually in reserve. Likewise, the language of paradoxis an attempt to both enter and avoid the'mysterium tremendum' inherent in atext." *Sanford Schwartz, after conferring withanother participant during the break toconfirm that he had heard what he thoughthe had heard, also denies the uniqueness ofDerrida's analysis."Professor Derrida taught us somethingabout narrative,” Schwartz says. "He wasexplicating a parable, seeing the terms ofthe parable as enlightening the text. Thisis not very unusual. Professor Derridagave us the point of view of the believer;he is a 'believer' of metafictional texts."But the genuine climax of this scene —and of the entire play, really — comeswhen Donald Pease, a Chicago Ph.D nowat Dartmouth, challenges Derrida with allthe braying enthusiasm of an evangelistencountering the Devil himself."There is a law of madness," Peasecalls from the audience, "a law of the li-minal. The one who claims pure negationfor his own as Professor Derrida has donebecomes the lord of the law of negation.This law of negation enables his discourseto annihilate all other discourse; it has akind of sovereignty that cannot be ques¬tioned."Derrida, using sophistical tactics,passes the buck to Blanchot: "You saythat I am doing all this, but I am doingnothing. I am simply explicating a text,the text you see here before you," he says,holding up The Madness of the Day. (Aplea borrowed from Seymom Chatman?)"The text was pure liminality," Peasereplied, "but you have become the mar¬shall of the sovereign liminal, and no onecan challenge you. You have seized thepower to undo everything that can be saidby Professor Scholes or anyone else on thepanel." Pease knows that he is trying toengage a elusive intellectual opponent."There must be a place, a locus," Peasecontinues, "where we can meet to speakthe same language and communicate. Youspoke of the 'between'; why can't we meetbetween the words, at the point of interdic¬tion, at that locus?"(Now I have no idea where or what the"interdict" is; but I do know that I wantDerrida to confront Donald Pease, tohonor his appeal, if only to delineate a"place" from which to answer the chargethat he, Derrida, has unjustly coopted thepower of negation unto himself.)But Derrida's jesting reply, which endsthe play proper, disappoints:"When you find that place, you give me acall."Coda: Le Guin's Hoop SnakeThe Conference on Narrative is not overSaturday evening, but my play — my recit,if you will — ends here. Sunday is a coda, and like an Attic epilogue, ours includes apoem sung by the chorus. Today we are in¬deed fortunate: the chorus is Ursula LeGuin."Tell us," she mimics Blanchot's policemagistrate, "au juste what happened."But she does not tell us exactly what hap¬pened. Instead she tells us a tale of thehoop snake, a bestiary story of WesternAmerica."The hoop snake," she says, "may beany of a number of species, but it is char¬acterized by its peculiar method of escap¬ing and pursuing. It forms a circle," shecontinues, "by taking its tail in its mouth,and then rolling like a hoop. In this way thesnake can escape from that which wouldotherwise capture it, or catch that whichwould otherwise get away." But the snake,she tells us, dies in the process: to form thehoop the snake must mortally wound it¬self.Le Guin is not engaging the issues raisedby the play, but it doesn't seem to matter.It doesn't seem to matter that she naivelysees story-telling as a mode of survival, away of living, and that she finds the sourceof stories to be the "form-conferring po¬tency of life itself. Ordeals, deaths, andresurrections — these are parts of everyhuman life," she says.(Is it possible that she is assuming thatlife and stories are somehow intimately re¬lated? that she is ignoring the gap betweensignifier and signified? that she is forget¬ting the intertextuality, reflexivity, inde¬terminateness, and hermeneutical prob¬lematics of her own stories?)I look for condescending smiles and theexchange of knowing glances between thesophisticated participants, but I find in¬stead a rather ardent audience, their re¬sponses not appreciably different from an"avant Derrida" group of listeners. Theystare with a childlike attention, as if abouta campfire on a stormy night, listening tothis tale Le Guin calls " 'Twas a Dark andStormy Night,' or, Why Are We HuddlingAbout the Campfire." But our pleasure isnear an end: Le Guin, by means of whatshe calls her "vaguely poetical, what else?narrative," is tellingus that silence is thegreat crime against humanity, and she isurging us to "leave a trace.""Take the tail in your teeth until theblood runs," she says, "take the tale inyour teeth and we'll all come to the end to¬gether, and maybe even the beginning, liv¬ing as we do in the middle."CommentaryI thought that Victor Turner was sacri-j ficing rigor for the sake of humor when he| said that he was ambivalent about being"derriere Derrida," but now I am not soI sure. Was Turner, are we, merely apresi the Parisian oracle? Or do we as students| of literature stand in some more fundamental relation to Derrida?Seymour Chatman, in his finest hour, appealed to Derrida regarding his personaldoubt. "There is something I have beenwanting to ask you," he said, "since I firstcontinued on page 21- The Chicagd Litfcfsry ftdv&w?'(MSay*,bec!rnber 7/Y91979Signs of Life(The High Wall)The stone is damp with unformedrain. Expecting onlymisty outlines of some crag, youare surprised astwo junipers emerge from the vapors.Signs of life.—wet bark, the thrush’swee-kaw, kaw through the pines,a fogged grove of birch chokedwith boulders, slender white trunksdeepening into green and yellowBut these are lost below.You are here, here on thishigh wall of granite,this silence, thisgray world drifting through cloudswhere you are certain of only one thing:the heart beat, the quick pulse.— George HoffmanBeyond Derridacontinued from page 20began reading your work. You see, I'usedto have something — a confidence in thevalue of what I was doing — and you havetaken that away. So I want to ask you,'What are the practical consequences for acritic who admits that he is implicated inthe text?' "Chatman was referring to Derrida's ar¬gument, if I may scandalously abstract it,that everything that can be said about atext is already "in" the text: there is noopportunity for a leading out or a leadingin.Derrida admitted that he too was in thisposition of doubt. He held out no hope forChatman, but said that his approach couldlead to a better understanding of copyrightlaw and authorial ownership. This point, Iadmit, was lost on me, but I have towonder how many of those who undertakethe arduous professional study of litera¬ture do so to achieve profound insights intocopyright law. Is this the only "useful" in¬sight we can hope for?This dead end response to Chatman'squery was only one of many discovered byDerrida, de Man, and others. Someonesaid, and rightly, that Kermode seemed towant his secrets to remain opaque and inviolable. There was, in fact, a general desire — perhaps political or ideological inorigin, I don't know — to find narrative abarren topic, to truncate discussion, topreclude either the leading into a text fromlife or the leading out of a text to life. Moreover, there was by implication a profound questioning not only of an conference onnarrative, but also of the value of thescholarly/critical/literary enterprise it¬self. So perhaps we should orient ourselvesby means of Victor Turner's pun: "on theother side of" or "beyond" rather thanmerely "after" Derrida, the personifiedapocalypse of literary criticism.In all fairness to M. Derrida, however, Imust report that he seems to be a politeand personable man. One participant whobreakfasted with him Sunday was over¬come by what he called Derrida's "gentle¬ness." True, he rather resembles the greatLudwig van, and he has a conductor's ri-vetting energy while he is performing. Butit would be unjust to characterize him as ademonic Paganini — Paganini would nothave brought his son Pierre to the Confer¬ence. And there is something about danc¬ing at a South Side jazz bar and abashedlyautographing books for adoring fans that"domesticates" even a numen like Derri¬da.It is this domesticated Derrida, proba¬bly, or the sophistical Derrida, that makesme doubt the apocalyptic Derrida suggest¬ed by the inordinate attention he receives.His writing, notoriously difficult to de¬cipher, is supposed to prefigure a profoundnew mode of thinking and expression, asort of millenium of reflexive discourse.Perhaps — but I can't help thinking ofSwift's comparisonof "Profound Writers"to unfamiliar wells: many of those will"pass for wondrous Deep," he said, "uponno wiser Reason than because they arewondrous Dark." Derriere Derrida le de¬luge?" Somehow, I just don't think so. Friday December 7ROBERT DENIRO in Martin Scorsese sMEAN STREETS(6:45 and 11:00)RICHARD GERE in Robert Mulligan'sBLOODBROTHERS(9:00)Saturday December 8Woody Allen sBANANAS(7:1 5 and 9:00)All Films $1.50 in Cobb HallComing Next Quarter!A Vincente Minnelli series! An RKO Studio Retro¬spective! And ^reat weekend movies sueh as HALLO¬WEEN, GET OUT YOUR HANDKERCHIEFS, DAYSOF HEAVEN, WOYZECK, HAIR, THE WARRIORS,ROCK 4N’ ROLL HIGH SCHOOL. DESPAIR. ST. JACK,MOVIE MOVIE, FORBIDDEN PLANET and many,many more! Schedules, brochures, and viant calendarposters will be available at tbe beginning of thequarter!SHAKEYOURBOOTIE...over breakand prepare forthe sao-sponsoredDISCO CONTESTFRIDAY, JANUARY 11LEVEL 1 COMPETITION OF“A SALUTE TO DANCERS:$100,000 DISCO CLASSIC”$1001 st price for level 1Winning CoupleFOR INFO AND ENTRY MATERIALSCALSAO. EXT. 3592NOTE: Contestants will be required to dance tomusic provided by sponsors. This record is availableat the Student Activities office, Ida Noyes 210The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 21jr.MerrierChristmasThree ‘Open me first'gifts from Kodak,all with built-inelectronic flash!list39.95you pay34.95Give the easy-to-useKODAK EKTRALITE 10 CameraOutfit. Simple aim-and-shoot operation plus built-in electronic flash means fun for the whole family.Film and batteries included.IpSgljj&vlist59.95you pay49.95Add the fun andflexibility of normal and 2X telephotolenses with the KODAK TELE-EKTRALITE 20 CameraOutfit. So easy to use Outfit includes film andbatteries79.95Give a lot when yougive the KODAK TELE-EKTRALITE 40Camera Outfit. Automatic exposure control,normal and 2X telephoto lenses and built-in elec¬tronic flash. Complete with film and batteriesUNIVERSITY of CHICAGOBOOKSTORE PHOTO DEPT.5750 S. 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Inc Great Neck New York■ u m V «• «22 — The Chicapo Uterary Review, Friday, December^, 19/9^CS — 9t9f Tsdm9oeQ .ysbhR xweivs# cssairO sri~I Eat PussyMe-e-e-o-o-o-w-w-w!Me, ow.It is crisp and cool in my head.I open my Swiss Army KnifeThey must have a blade for thisThe rain pelts on the panePerfect dayPerfect dayThere must be more than one way to do thisAs they sayI use the larger blade and start at the neckDown the warm beige furJust under the skinTo the tailI reach in and pull out slippery pink coils of tubingCut it at either end with the small scissors(With the V of metal that pushes the blades apart after you squeeze I run thumb and forefinger down either side of its lengthSqueezingOver the toiletI attach one end to the sink faucet and put the other in the tubCold water at full blastTurn it offDisattach andBlow out excess waterCoil it neatly in the cornerWith my tennis thingsMy racket needs restringingI coil myself in another cornerI sighAh, me!The catSi¬amese.Looking like a stainless steel IUD) — Morgan RussellAnd take it to the bathroomTheFLAMINGOand CABANA CLUB.">.">00 S. Shore Drive• Studio and ] Bedroom• Furnished and IJnfurnishet• I . of C. hus stop• (tutdoor Pool and Gardens• (iarpetin*: and i trapes tnrl.• Security• I niversio Suhsidv forStudents and Staff• Delicatessen• Barte r Shop• Beaut\ Shop• J.B.D. Restaurant• Dentist• ValetFREK PARKINGM. SnyderPL 2-3800NATIONAL LAMPOONSUCCESS ISSUEA highly touted look et the stuffthat men and women sacrificetheir homes, their hearts, andtheir humanity for."Dope Millionaire" — Abillion dollars in a gym bag, anUn machine gun. and a hot tubfilled and ready to go."Bitch Goddesses ” — MeetSue Ann. Goddess of Success, inthe Back Seat of a Car."The Little Engine That Did '— A successful young choochootram pays the price for a stackfullof toot."Closet at the Top" - Thepressures of an assistant reliefmanager of one of America's mostdynamic grocery stores."The Woman's Undress forSuccess Book" - A delightfulpeek at the hard-drivingbusinesswoman from a number ofinteresting angles. 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C''» STuD'OS COu<V»* **CTU»C* '*C fo**** Sc^ryJV *,-• AttHi" Of * •♦ST A •ocO’OS».,*rO's«(S(»vL5COMING FOR CHRISTMASThe Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 23Rosenberg RememberedIn October of this year, former friends,colleagues and students of one-time Uni¬versity professor and art critic Harold Ro¬senberg gathered at Bond Chapel for a me¬morial service in Rosenberg's honor.Among the speakers were Saul Bellow andSaul Steinberg, as welt as Stephen Gabel,who studied under Rosenberg on The Com¬mittee on Social Thought. The following isa written copy of Gabel's oral presenta¬tion, which ended with a reading of Rosen¬berg's poem, "Dawn”, from Trance Abovethe Streets.by Stephen GabelThe first book that Harold Rosenbergwrote was called Trance Above theStreets, a volume of poems published in1942. The book bears a dedication that fore¬shadows the kind of teacher Harold was tobecome. The dedication reads, "to mycompanions."When Harold joined the faculty of theCommittee on Social Thought hewas known internationally as an indepen¬dent intellectual and a writer on modernart and culture. Many of his students wereunimpressed for the simple reason that wewere ignorant of his standing in the intel¬lectual world. Harold, with a modesty thatwas typical of him, said nothing to dispelour ignorance of his fame.Though modest about the recognition hehad achieved, Harold in person as the op¬posite of unprepossessing. No student whoworked with him could fail to be impressedby both his intellectual vitality and hissheer physical presence. His outsize physi¬cal frame seemed filled with an abundance of life, and he spoke with a marvellous con¬fidence of assertion. His size and confi¬dence together could easily reduce a stu¬dent to a condition of dazzled, mousyadmiration. When one went to his office todiscuss Melville or Dostoevsky or Du¬champ, before one knew what had hap¬pened, Harold, with his lawyer's skill atfinding the kernel in an incoherent ques¬tion, would have grasped your point andbegun to expatiate on it.But expatiate is too colorless a word, andtoo cold. Harold, sitting in his office withhis bad leg sticking out (and it seems to mevery much a part of his fiercely indepen¬dent character that he bore his disabilitywith a kind of jaunty air) would warm to asubject, would become animated by it.Harold was not coldly rational; he was apassionate, often brilliant, reasoner and aDawnIron wheels on cotton tracks:horses: the quietweightlessness lifts up thetreesMy heart is wise in four sec¬tions:mystic, comic, heroic, andskeptic —My brain, however, sighs atfarewells man who took and undisquised (and therefore infectious) pleasure in thinking. Onebecame mesmerized by the rythmic accu¬mulation of dramatic sentences, by hiseyebrws moving for additional, if puzzling,emphasis, and by a hand that gestured de¬licately. All the while Harold was lookingyou in the eye. You looked back, trying toabsorb his words while meeting his gaze.When he had finished talking he added, ina sort of high-pitched drawl, somethingtike "Ehhh?" or "Well?"Now that interrogative, that "Ehh?",was very important, though it took some ofus quite a while to recognize its impor¬tance. It was an invitation to join in, tomeet argument with counter argument,metaphor with metaphor. But if one weretoo overwhelmed by Harold's perfor¬mance to respond promptly to his interro-A white beard parts theleaves; a fugitiveponders in a showcase of dewysaws:Do not be angry with me, itwas the mosquitoeskept you from sleepingI was on a matter of impor¬tanceAny day now we shall findout—- Harold Rosenberg gative invitation, he was not the man to leta heavy silence continue for long. Thoughalmost always forceful, definite, even dra¬matic in what he said, he was not aggres¬sive. He had no desire to put you on thespot . . . and so would continue the discus¬sion himself. A student might walk out ofhis first meetings with Harold feeling thathe had been reduced to silence, but hewould in time discover that Harold's re¬peated interrogatives expressed a genuinecuriosity and a desire for spirited dis¬agreement and discussion.Harold enjoyed a scrap. He seemed mostcomfortable in an atmosphere of friendlypolemic. This is not, however, the environ¬ment one finds in a typical seminar, in anattempt to create it, Harold was occasion¬ally inspired to insist that students not takenotes in class. He did not want studentswho simply wanted to listen to him; evenless did he want students who had to becross-examined before they would speaktheir minds. Harold outlawed notes be¬cause, I think, he wanted students whowould interrupt him, challenge him,match him in insight and imagination. Asa teacher, Harold's talent did not lie in theability to explain his field. Indeed, he in¬sisted that criticism was not a field, withfixed principles, canons, and so on.Rather, his talent was to challenge us torespond to experiments of the spirit asspirited men and women, and to inspire usby his example to rise to the challenge.Harold, one of the preeminent intellectualsof his time, approached his students withthe expectation that they might becomehis companions.J, WINTER COURT THEATRE presentsA Day in the Death of753-3581 in The New Theatre, 57th and UniversityThursdays and Sundays, November 15 thru December 228:30 p.m., Sundays at 7:30Extra performance Mon., Dec. 10 at 8:30 p.m. JUt tvVby Peter Nicholsdirected by Nicholas Rudallset design by Linda Buchanan24PhotographsbyTom DunnThe Chicago Literary Review, Fnaav, December 7, 1979YOU DON’TNEED GLASSESto enjoy a Tecate Trio Bravo.Just take an icy red can of Tecate Beerimported from Mexicoand top it with lemon and salt.Out of sight!Cibco Importing Co.. IncDallas. Texas 75229 TECATE GOLD CITY INNgiven * * * *by the MAROONOpen DallyFrom 11:30 a.m.to 9:00 p.m.5228 Harper 493-2559Hmrpmr Court)Eat more for less.A Gold Mine O Good Food"Student Discount:10% for table service5% for take homeHyde Porh*» Beat Cantonese Food72 Kroch's Brentano'sTHE FULL SERVICE BOOKSTORES'^ Take afriend^hometo study*Study with Cliffs Notes, becausethey can help you do better inEnglish class. There are more than200 Cliffs Notes covering all thefrequently assigned novels, plays /y/)\and poems Use them as aguide while you'rereading and again as A REAL VACATIONFOR CHRISTMASDo you feel tired after your holidays? Do you overtax your bodyduring your holidays instead of finding peace7 Think of yourjangled nerves, stiff spine, rounded shoulders, and ill ventilatedlungs, coated with tar and nicotine; the result is shallow breath-ina. poor concentration and very little will powerWhat you need is a yoga winter vacation at our Yoga Campon 250 acres of the Laurentian Mountains Our daily scheduleincludes proper exercise, proper breathing, proper diet, properrelaxation, and positive thinking and meditation. We haveday/night downhill skiing, cross-country skiing with instructionand our own sauna.Join us for an eleven-day yoga intensive personally conductedby Swami Vishnu Devananda. author of the million copy best¬seller “The Complete Illustrated Book of Yoga.”STUDENT SPECIAL: DEC. 22-JAN. 2, $125or $12.50 per day thru the Winter.For free ill brochure call or write to:SIVANANDA ASHRAM YOGA CAMP8th Avenue, Val Morin, P Q JOT 2RO(819) 322-3226 New York (212) 255-4560Washington (202) 331 -9642 Chicago (312) 878-2468Name AGJOliffkan efficient review for exams.They're great for helping youunderstand literature andthey’re ready to help you nowKroch's Brentano'sTH[ FULL service bookstores*29 South Wabash Avenue. Chicago. IL 60603 • (312) 332-7500BRANCH STORES 516 N Michigan Ave • 62 E Randolph St. • 16 S. LaSalla St1711 Sherman Ave . Evanston * 1028 Lake St. Oak Park > North Mall. Old OrchardOakbrook Center . Evergreen Plaza • River Oaks • Lincoln Mall • Randhurst CenterHawthorn Center = The Mall at CherryVale (Roeklord) • Woodtteld Mall • Foi ValleyCenter • Water Tower Place • Orland SquareChinese Music SocietyPRESETSsbxjbs onjMdJXLonalstyuAicai SnsOlTfusmlsStssion. I: SOWED STRINGSMusic Apprac iation ;(’9 oo PM, Sa.tu.rday • Dec. 8Home Rilnttma.tion.1 Hons*.E. s-fM. StExkii>ition •tDec. 7 ~ Dec. soFast Lottnye., Intimational HonsiFree Admission Zip CodeAddressSend me free illustrated YOGA HandbookEnclosed is $25 deposit for the following dates11-day intensive!f*<e\fo\\doeMade possible by a grant from Rockwell InternationalPresented on PBS by WQED Pittsburgh A Trans World International Production26 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979. The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 27Victims oftheSouthern Textile IndustryRise Gonna Riseby Mimi ConwayDoubleO^yby Claudia MagatSoon after the Civil War, some NewYork industrialists went down to NorthCarolina. They built mills along theRoanoke River, and the millsmanufactured cotton, and were poweredby torrents of blue-black waters. By theturn of the century, mill villages likeRoanoke Rapids had sprung up all overthe state. These represented the wave ofthe future to many Americans, the wisedream of modern industry. Mostimportantly, they provided a balm tosoothe and a possible means to resurrectthe still-devastated South.The mill villages, as journalist MimiConway shows in Rise Gonna Rise, werecuriously reminiscent of the Old South'splantations; "they were a world untothemselves." But the similarities did notend there. If a mill village wasself-sufficient, isolated, and centered on asingle industry, it also was presided overby one or two wealtny gentlemen, whocreated and maintained the social andfinancial climate of the village. Then, asnow, the textile industry and its ownersdominated Roanoke Rapids, and the veryexistence of Roanoke Rapids dependedentirely on the mills. That is one premiseof Conway's book, which is essentially aseries of excellent, informal interviewswith men and women of the town.Yet the old people interviewed for RiseGonna Rise speak with wonder andnostalgia about the early days ofpaternalism in Roanoke Rapids. "Theyhad ice cream parties sometimes up inthe park, and once a year, Sam Patterson— he owned the mill — closed it downand put us all on the train for an outing,"71 year old Frankie Akers told Conway.Frankie, who has cancer, worked as a"spinner" in the mill from 1920 to 1949. Her breasts have been removed: sheslips off her dress to show theinterviewer. She spits tobacco into a tincan on the living room floor. Herhalf-sister, Eula, has brown lung disease."We've both been blessed," Eula says.Although Frankie and Eula quit themill before 1956, when the notoriouslyinhumane J.P. Stevens Company tookover, they both witnessed profoundchanges during the 1930s and 1940s. "Ihad a grand time," Frankie says. "But itgot harder and harder. They work youlike dogs.""They're speeding up the machines allthe time," Conway was told. "I just wishthey'd get somebody up in there that'sgot some sense to run the mill withouttrying to push the help to death."The history of the mills in RoanokeRapids reflects the larger history ofindustrialization in this country. But italso involves the private human historiesof anger, despair, illness, helplessness,fearfulness, and political consciousness.Conway subtitled her book "A Portrait ofSouthern Textile Workers." Humanstruggle is central to that portrait.Many of the textile workers described1 by Conway suffer from brown lung| disease (byssinosis). Brown lung isi caused by inhalation of excessive| amounts of cotton dust, and it is fatal.I The facts are horrifying: 60 per centbreathing capacity, incessant coughing! and wheezing, dangerously high levels of| cotton dust in the Stevens mills — asI much as 23 milligrams per cubic meter,| when it should be 0.2 or 0.1 milligrams.! Initially J.P. Stevens denied that brownj lung even existed, but in the early 1970sbegan issuing face masks to protectworkers. The masks are useless becausethey quickly become clogged with cottondust; and the cotton dust is everywhereanyway. "You could taste it," one millworker said, "Even in the canteens it's'so full of dust and lint that l have to eatTextile Worker opening cotton bale. Louis Harrell's retirement: Recognition and Brown Lungmy sandwiches in the restroom."The black and white photographs arefamous by now. Lucy Taylor, a leadingforce in the Carolina Brown LungAssociation (CBLA), leans back in achair, her right hand resting on herchest, head tilted, eyes wide. She lookslike she can scarcely breath. LouisHarrell lies in bed, hooked up to arespirator, a plaque propped on hisstomach: "In recognition of 28 years ofloyal and faithful service, J.P. Stevens &Co." Harrell thought he had asthma untilthe CBLA began administering breathingtests in 1975. During an interview withConway, he periodically interruptedhimself in order to catch his breath."After a lifetime of working in themills," Conway writes, "Louis Harrellearned $3.40 an hour." Harrell receivedno compensation for brown lung disease.He was about to retire when he died in1978. His friends put ribbons on thegrave: COTTON DUST KILLS.Brown lung disease, poor treatment ofmill workers ("My bossman told me. . .'Unless you're smart enough to keep allthose machines going, you can't go to thebathroom' "), and pitiful workercompensation ("If you're retired, theysend you a fruit cake not fit to eat. . . anda tiny little jar of preserves" — nopension) are powerful themes in RiseGonna Rise. But Conway also focuses onthe problem of civil rights in RoanokeRapids, particularly racism in theStevens mills."I had no idea those old white ladieshad it so hard coming up," ErnestineBrooks remarked, referring to Eula andFrankie Akers. "They got no education,and they started working twelve hours aday at ten years old. I never heard thatwhites had it like that." Brooks and herhusband, Clarence, live in a smallwooden house off a dirt road, a typicalresidence for blacks down there.Clarence used to work in the mills —"I've got more noggins now" — andpresently earns $5.45 an hour in aconstruction job. Working at the millsignificantly eroded his strength, madehim old too soon; ultimately this angersClarence more than J.P. Stevens'ssegregated bathrooms anddiscriminatioin in hiring and firing.But Otis Edwards, another brown lung victim, recalled, "colored people weren'tmore than a dog." Shades of Rosa Parks:Edwards refused to drink water out of abottle at the mill when white peopledrank directly from the fountain. "All theblacks had to take their meal out there inthe warehouse where there was no heat...then that law got passed. That civilrights law."At its edges Roanoke Rapids gives wayto fields of corn, peanuts, and cotton.Blacks worked in those fields until themills started hiring them. HaywoodBoone was a black sharecropper who"didn't know a thing about the cottonmills in Roanoke Rapids until my boyThree who are fighting working conditionsat J.P. Stevenswent over there to work at it.""I didn't want none of my children tofarm," Boone said. For blacks, cottonmills were a step up from cotton fields;Lucy Taylor's (white) husband declared,"I thank God my daughter has neverseen the inside of a cotton mill."If there is a tradition of tragedy inAmerica, so is there a tradition ofimportant and effective books abut thattragedy. Rise Gonna Rise recalls Riis'sHow the Other Half Lives, Agee's Let UsNow Praise Famous Men, Moody'sComing of Age in Mississippi, and Howe'sPink Collar Workers. These books are allof a piece: emotional and financialpoverty, hopes for reform, bitterness,sadness, oppression. Rise Gonna Riserecalls the distances between America'smultiple worlds, and sheds light on thedistance from here to a just society.9C =1 ,W9ivs3 ve^tij oeeDirO 9rtT -- piLetter from the Frontby Richard SchwartzDear Linda,I've just come from the orientation session at the University of Chicago. It's quitea strange place — much different from theUniversity of South Florida. They seem todo things in their own special and uniqueway here. We don't call professors "Doctor"; we call them Mister and Ms. Nor dowe have credit hours — just courses: ninecourses, two Master's essays, and a finalexam doth a Master of Arts make. But themost unusual thing so far that I've experi¬enced has been the initiation rite at BotanyPond.Incoming graduate students were takento a shallow artificial lake next to the Bo¬tany Building. There, they were dividedaccording to majors — business majors tothe shallow end and students enrolled inthe Committee on Social Thought (COST)at the deep end. We English majors werealso in pretty deep water, separated fromthe COST people only by the Ideas andMethods students (I AM). Wading next tous, on the other side, were prospective philosophers, historians, and art analysts.Linguists and social scientists were keptout of sight underneath a little woodenfootbridge.Once we were in the water for a while wewere told to take from our orientationpackets indicators to test the water quali¬ty. In this way we could ascertain whichdiscipline was the purest by determiningwhich one polluted the water least. Sud¬denly, from beneath the bridge came loudprotestations that our testing methodswere not statistically meaningful, that wehad no control apparatus, and that the resuits would not conform to a T test. Then, j beside me an I AM man shouted that theepistomological implications were allwrong* On my other side a philospher re¬torted that the I AM student had over¬looked the ontological aspects of his condition, and suggested that he first determineif the pond he now stood in was really thesame one that he had entered fifteen min¬utes before. When the I AM student snidelyreplied, "You know I KANT!" a COST stu¬dent hollered down to a business adminis-; tration candidate that his fly was open.Meanwhile, the English crowd looked atone another blankly, wondering what todo. One took a twig from a tree, tied a shoe-j lace to it, and proceeded to fish for min¬nows. A Shakespearean cried for the fairOphelia, and a Chaucerian started to urin¬ate in the water, before someone directed| him to a nearby tree.A classics major, a young woman, beganj screaming "Screw you!" at a student ofquantum mechanics, who replied in turn,j "Screw your vicinity!" One odd lookingstudent took out a marijuana joint and,puffing on the number, began reciting, "InXanadu did Kubla Khan a stately dome de¬cree." A philosopher splashed out the ciga¬rette, yelling "Kubla Khan, but EmanuelKant." An existentialist then tripped theKantian philosopher, dunked his headunder the water, and shouted, "Ontology iswhere you find it." In reply a Samuel Johnson scholar kicked the existentialist in theass and sent him flying headlong into theshallow water, splashing M.B.A.'s as hewent. Wiping his hands against each otherin celebration of a job well done, theJohnsonian smirked, "Thus I refute him."The M.B.A.'s then proceeded to drown theI errant existentialist. At this point the initiation ceremony gotgoing in earnest. An I AM student startedj arguing with a COST major that Ideas andMethods really deserved to have the dee¬pest water, theirs to sink or swim. "I canread three languages, quote the entire Poj etics, and perform simultaneous Freudianand Marxist analyses of any literary; work," he shouted. "That's nothing,"! yelled back the COST student, stomping| his foot, then doing a jig as he proclaimed,I "I can translate Plato from Greek toi Latin, deliver in pig-Latin a structuralistI critique of Proust's complete works, andtype a term paper with one hand whileplaying a violin with the other."Rising to the challenge, the I AM person| set his jaw, snapped his fingers, and beganj again. "My friends call me the Bane of So; phistry and my enemies know me as Ab-! surdity's Architect. I can extrapolate Arisj totle's lost book on comedy from theI Poetics; I can prove that Shakespeare was influenced by Einstein and Heisenberg; Ican read a French text backward and aHebrew text forward. Whoop! When I amsick I take up Joyce for light reading, andwhen I'm well it's Pound. For breakfast Iforego Wheaties and dine on Descartes.For lunch I take Aquinas in a brown bagwith an apple, and for dinner I feast on St.Augustine." In his turn the COST studentleaped in the air, clicked his heels, andspun a spin. "Yippie! They call me theChild of Cosmology. When I am depressedI brood on Sartre, and when happy I writeodes to Camus. I go swimmin' in the Sea ofErudition and dry myself on the Towel ofTireisias. My bowels move the monomyth,and I urinate Jung. Whoop! Whoop! Yippieyea!"Now Linda, I tell you the water waschurning quick and white with these twofellows going at it like there was no tomorrow; that is until a young English majorfrom Virginia, a student of FredsonBowers and aspirant to Ringler, grabbedboth those scholars by their necks andsaid, "What about the text? Can you produce a pure text or compile a critical edition?" Why you should have seen those twobraggarts just shrivel down to size as theVirginian lashed out at them, "What's acopy text? What constitutes an author'sfinal intention? What about Shakespeare'scompositors and the sullied, sallied, solidflesh that Hamlet wanted melted likeSwiss cheese atop a McDonalds hamburger?" The Child of Cosmology and theBane of Sophistry just tucked their tailsbetwixt their legs and sloshed down to theshallow end, where the M.B.A.'s couldmake fun of them. And so it came to passthat the English majors were left in thedeepest water of all.Well, Linda, I've got to run for the min¬ibus now and head for the library to studysome for tomorrow’s classes. I'll writemore later. In the meantime, give my bestto the folks back in Tampa.Love,RickCHICAGO’S 1st WIN1ERFESTIN CONCERT - SUNDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1979PRE XMAS JAZZ CONCERTTHE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOCENTER FOR CONTINUING EDUCATION1307 EAST 60TH STREETALSO presented by Valhallaciitd0. J. 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Production28 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979A Hard-Nosed Lookat American History TextbooksAmerica Revisedby Frances FitzgeraldLittle, Brown and Companyby Laurie BrownIn America Revised, FrancesFitzgerald paints a ruthless portrait ofAmerican history textbooks written forprimary and secondary school students.She says little that is positive, concludingthat history texts are determined bysocial conditions, and that their primarygoal is to manipulate children. They doeverything but teach.The book first deals with backgroundtopics: the way textbooks are written,how their content is determined, and howtheir attitudes have varied since themid-nineteenth century.Texbook publishing houses aresecretive about the process by whichtheir texts are written, and they respondsubtly to changes in current socialattitudes. Their books mislead childrenwho, at least intially, regard them asGod's truth. Their content is notdetermined by historians or by thoughtfuleditors, but by the results of marketsurveys, the stipulations of state andlocal school boards, and the agitations ofpressure groupsThough the names of distinguishedhistorians are often listed on the covers,usually history texts don't show theirinfluence. Ideas expressed maycompletely contradict those developed bythe historians in their major works. Thebland, graceless style of most texts isforeign to that of their "authors."Sometimes the historian has died yearsbefore the publication date of the latestedition of his text. These situationsdevelop because editors want to sell theirproducts and professional historians donot wish to sacrifice time to a minorcause.The second section deals with changesin textbook presentations of Americanculture and society, emphasizing alteringpublic attitudes toward immigrants andblacks. Fitzgerald describes theprogression from an "us versus them"attitude toward minorities in the teensand twenties, to a slightly morehospitable attitude in the thirties, to the''melting pot" sociology of the forties andfifties. In the sixties the lid blew off themelting pot, and unamalgamated ethnicgroups demanded equal time in the texts.Since then, editors have been facedwith the problem of how to present a fairand accurate picture of a multi-racial,multi-cultural society. With fewexceptions, textbooks have avoided theissue. They have included scatteredpictures and names of blacks andimmigrants, but actually continue toportray American society from thevantage point of the ruling group.The third section of the book treats theinfluence of educational philosophy on texts, with a serious tone that countersthe new flippancy of the earlier twoparts. Fitzgerald seeks the underlyingcauses of the weaknesses andidiosyncrasies plaguing children's historytexts.She begins by exploring the reasons forthe dullness of the texts. They avoidintellectual history; they don't discussthe ideological backgrounds of thePuritans or the founding fathers. Theyalso fail to relate the activities of artiststo history. Additionally, texts avoid anyserious consideration of conflict.Analyzing the situation of minorities,they employ what Fitzgerald has dubbedthe "Tinker Belle mode," exemplified inthe following:Today the first Americans, likemany other groups, are organizingto demand full rights. Their activi¬ties have led many other Americansto think deeply about the wrongswhich the American Indians havesuffered.Fitzgerald characterizes this statementas "an excess of non information."Fitzgerald does praise the "inquiry"text, which was designed for advancedhigh school students, and which includesprimary source materials from variousperiods together with backgroundmaterial. Inquiry texts force students toconstruct their own history. ButFitzgerald cannot give even these textsunqualified high marks, because most ofthem fail to equal the scholarly standardsthey exact. The selection of documents isoften thin, and the questions arefrequently silly.Fitzgerald then launches into anextended discussion of the history ofeducational philosophy in the UnitedStates. During the eighteen-nineties, theintellectual elite of the East establishedrigorous standards for public schools. Atthe end of the nineties, however,professional educators began to take overleadership of public education, giving it anew vocational emphasis. This happenedbecause new educators were notequipped to provide an academiceducation for their students; because thepublic tended to favor vocationaleducation; and because schools had tointroduce immigrants (adults as well aschildren) into American life.In addition, John Dewey and hisfollowers exerted a strong influence.Dewey believed that individuals shoulddevelop freely in their own ways. Inpractice, his philosophy involved arelaxation of academic discipline.Dewey's concern with democraticeducation also hastened the move towardvocational education, and strengthenedthe emphasis on Americanization inschools. History texts have reflected this.Fitzgerald continues with evidence Fitzgerald: Revising Deceptions.supporting the overriding concern of theAmerican educational establishment:socializing and manipulating children.Educators deny realities that childrensee every day at home, on the streets,and in school, and in so doing they turnchildren into cynics. They fail utterly atwhat they call their goal: imparting aknowledge of the past for a betterunderstanding of the presem and future.America Revised's topic is important,its revelations are shocking, and itsinsights are carefully considered. It isthoroughly researched and elegantlywritten. It is also an admirable piece ofindependent thinking. Fitzgerald refusesto jump on the "back to basics"bandwagon. She believes that never inthe history of American public educationhave the schools truly educated theirstudent.The flaws in the book may arise fromits origin as a magazine series. Forexample, it is not clearly divided intotopics; evidence supporting a point madein the beginning may be found in themiddle section. The lack of subdivisioninto chapters also hinders the development of argument. The book hasno index, and is not as well produced asit should be for its price.Another magazine-related problem is acertain flippancy of tone. The followingquotation appears in parentheses in themiddle of a discussion of the switchoverto specialized education that occurred inthe early sixties:These theories of Zbigniew Brzezinski, Daniel Bell, and others are nowincluded in many secondary-texts;the educationists look on them withfavor, since they certify the utility ofeducation and the democracy of theAmerican system.This is a cheap shot at professionaleducators, whom Fitzgerald has alreadyevaluated and found wanting in earlierpassages.Despite its faults, America Revisedoffers important insights into thedeceptions of our textbooks — insightswhich call to question some of thedeceptions inherent in the Americansystem of education.NEED CREDIT? “no for THE CREDIT GAMEToo young to borrow7New in town/no references?Erase bad debt recordsSkip bills without ruining creditReceive loans within weeks of beginning this programInformation on updated credit laws and legislationYour rights under the Federal Credit Acts SOLVE ALLTHESECREDITPROBLEMSwithTHE CREDIT GAMESend Check orMoney Order to WALL STREET PUBLISHING CO 303 5TH AVESUITE 1306NEW YORK, NY 10016 "Tired of being without credit, or up to your neck in'minimum payments'? With this book you will learn howto make the' $300 billion credit industry jump at yourcommand."ONLY~ $5795IN Y residents add 8% Sales TaxiEnclosed is $NameAddressCity for _ BooksState ZipAllow 3 weeks for delivery.The Chicago Literary. Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 291Christmasclose-upsfrom Kodak2X Telephoto LensKODAKTELE-EKTRALITE20 Camera Outfit n/ ijhrAj-'f.N />S• Built-in electronic flash • Normal and 2X tele¬photo lenses • Simple aim-and-shoot picture¬taking • Complete with film and batterieslist you pay49.952X Telephoto LensKODAKTELE-EKTRALITE40 Camera Outfit• Automatic exposure control • Built-in elec¬tronic flash • Normal and 2X telephoto lenses• Film and batteries includedlist 94.95 you pay79.95UNIVERSITY of CHICAGOBOOKSTORE PHOTO DEPT.5750 S. ELLIS753-3317We accept Visa andMaster Charge HOLIDAYHOURSNov 23-Dec 16'til 6 p.m.Dec. 17-Dec. 23'til 9 p.m.Dec 24 'til 6 p.m.OPEN SUNDAYS5206 Harper Ct.324-6039UPS. 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Manicf Half, freeTake a break from your studiesBenefit for Court theatreSECOND CITYin Mandel HallMonday, Dec. 17at 8:30 p.m.Tickets on sale at Reynolds Club Box Office$3.00 for students $5 for faculty and staff$7 general admission $100 benefactor ticketsFeatures a Super Salad Bar Steak Burgers Super Sandwiches Soup and SaladBar Steak and Salad Bar Carry-outs available 7 days a week The Michelob is on uswhile you wait to pick up a carry-out order (Sorry, only 1 person can drink free1)Students—Don’t Forget Us on Sundays.5225 S. Harperi# in Hyde ParkTelephone 363-1454■■■■■I1Good with this ad.)We re swinging Steakburqers 7 days a weekThe Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 31ror9\9f ifKtrr»9.YAQ ^yebh^ ,W9ive5R v*i6'»9tiJ ofetotriw.50th Social SciencesAnniversary Celebrationon the occasion of the dedication ofthe Social Sciences Research BuildingTHE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOSunday, December 162:00 P.M.Social Sciences 1224:30 P.M.Breasted HallOriental Institute6:00 P.M.Reynolds ClubNorth LoungeMonday, December 1710:00 A.M.Social Sciences 1222:00 P.M.Social Sciences 122 Symposium IChairman: Bernice L. NeugartenUniversity of Chicago“The Impact of the Polls on National Leadership”Philip E. Converse, University of Michigan“Distortions of Economic Research”Theodore W. Schultz, University of Chicago“Discrepancies between Concepts and theirMeasurements”Norman M. Bradburn, University of ChicagoAddress“Are Social Problems Problems that Social ScienceCan Solve?”Herbert A. Simon, Carnegie-Mellon UniversityReceptionSymposium IIChairman: Chauncy D. HarrisUniversity of Chicago“Choice in the Spending of Time”Mary Jean Bowman, University of Chicago“Prudent Aspirations for Social Inquiry”LeeJ. Cronbach, Stanford University“Connections, Credentials, or Competence:The Declining Significance of Social Class”Paul E. Peterson, University of ChicagoSymposium IIIChairman: Neil HarrisUniversity of Chicago“Individual Experience and Cultural Order”Marshall D. Sahlins, University of Chicago“The Citizen and the Scholar”Barry D. Karl, University of Chicago“The Revival of Narrative: Reflections ona New-Old History”Lawrence Stone, Princeton UniversityProgram subject to changeALL EVENTS ARE FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLICI . •f^u, • V!.w.a-rsKJ ,Y6DitT ,W9»V9fl YieiStiJ 0Q6DirO 9rH ChristmasT rade-ln Special!OLYMPUS OM-10•Fully Automatic aperture pre¬ferred 35 mm SLR compact.•Revolutionary OTF (off the film)exposure system for greateraccuracy^^ 50 mm ^ ^ |ens:S209M'“With SLR body and lens in trade. We reserve The right to refuse any camera’model camera1342 East 55th St. 493-6700START LAW SCHOOLIN JANUARY 1980SPRING SEMESTER(Registration Deadline January 16, 1980)An Affirmative Action,Equal OpportunityEducator/EmployerFor Information and Details - ContactADMISSIONSCH1CAGO-KENT COLLEGE OF LAWILLINOIS INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY77 SOUTH WACKER DRIVECHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60606(312) 567-5012Spin-Itand A & Mpresent4 great rockLP's for the 80'scoRNinaroNaA Different KinJotCrrzvMbCnbi Rart Of The <* 1 • StyxPablo Cruise8.98 ListNow 5.79 PoliceHead East7.98 Listnow4.99Specially priced thru Dec. 16, 1979Spin-lt Now, Spin-lf Ufor, but Spin-lf32 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979Michael Harrington: Back at ChicagoMichael Harrington, Chairman of theDemocratic Socialist Organizing Commit¬tee, was at the University recently to givea lecture on the democratic left and thepossibility of building a socialist move¬ment in the United States. The author of anumber of books — most recently, Twi¬light of Capitalism and The Vast Majority— Harrington first came into nationalprominence with his first book, The OtherAmerica, which described the rampant poverty of America's “invisible poor."“It was a great shock to me that the bookreceived so much attention," Harringtonsaid this November. “I had departed forEurope after the book had received a fewmodest reviews. It was in Paris that Ilearned of the book's success after DwightMacdonald's review appeared. It was thelongest review I'd ever come across in TheNew Yorker, and its some forty pageseventually ran as a pamphlet."Party because of The Other America'senthusiastic reception, Harrington be¬came a member of Sergeant Shriver's taskforce against poverty and unemployment.In 1965 Harrington became an advisor toNew York City's mayor, and in 1968 hecampaigned for Robert Kennedy. Thefifty-one year-old Harrington has been ac¬tive in the liberal-left wing of the Demo¬cratic party, winning an audience amongvarious liberals as well as socialists.Before becoming involved in DorothyDay's Catholic Worker movement and theanti-war push, Harrington attended Chica¬go as a master's candidate in English. Inhis semi autobiographical book, Frag¬ments of the Century, Harrington recalledlife at Chicago after Hutchins' abolishm¬ent of intercollegiate football and introduc¬tion of his college plan."The dominant mood at the University,"he wrote, "was an Aristotelian-Thomistbohemianism, for there was an iconoclas¬tic respect for standards and a contemptfor middle-class utilitarianism.""One December evening in 1949, whileon my way home to study for a crucialexam the next day'/' Harrington remem¬bered in Fragments, "I bought a copy ofConrad's Victory, a book that had nothingto do with the test or any other course ofmine. When I got to my room I decided toread a few pages of the novel before I gotdown to the serious business of studying.At four in the morning I finished Conrad'spoignant account of how a man cannot hidehimself from life and love. That epito¬mized the spirit of Chicago in those days:there were even some students who waitedfor months to go to the registrar's to findout their grades on the grounds that a pro¬fessor's opinion of their work was an irrel¬evance. And there was a rage to talk, todiscuss, to articulate, that surged throughbars and drugstores and love affairs."Back on campus last month, Harringtonanswered a few questions after having spoken before an afternoon crowd in QuantrellAuditorium. The interview was conductedby Richard Kaye.CLR: There has been a lot of talk about analleged shift to the right in this country.Don't you think this makes the chances ofbuilding a socialist movement appearrather slim?Harrington: Well, I wouldn't rush to saythe country is moving so monolithically tothe right. As I said in my speech before, Ithink we're moving left, right, and center.When you ask Americans, "How do youfeel about your government?" they an¬swer, "We have too much of it, our taxesare way too high." If you ask those verysame people what they think of the envi¬ronment, or medical care, or full employ¬ment, they say, "There has to be moredone for the environment," "We need a na¬tional health program," "We want the government to be the employer of last resort."It's an apparent contradiction which Ithink was brilliantly explored in a 1965book by Hadley Cantril called The Politi¬cal Beliefs of Americans, where we seethat even in 1964 there was also this largemajority of Americans who consideredthemselves conservatives in their ideologi¬cal thinking, yet practically speaking, they were liberals if one examined the kinds ofprograms they wanted instituted.I don't mean to minimize the very realand serious movement to the right that'sgoing on in our political discussions, but Ialso think there's enough of a left-wingsentiment for there to be a good possibilityfor a change to the right. People in DSOCare interested in asking questions whichcome from a leftist standpoint, in keepingthe main political discussion out of a right-wing ball park, where it primarily isnow.CLR: One of your more controversialstandpoints is your backing of Kennedy.How can a socialist back Kennedy? It'seven questionable that he'll remain a "lib¬eral" candidate, since as his chances im¬prove he'll most likely move more towardsthe center.Harrington: In a sense, there isn't reallyan alternative to Kennedy in the nationalelection. That is to say, if one starts withthe proposition that all of the Republicansare totally intolerable, and I do — I neverlook to the Republican Party for anything— then one looks not for an ideal presidentbut for a real possibility for president. Itboils down to three people, and those haveto be Democrats. Barry Commoner is notgoing to win the presidency if he runs onthe Citizen's Party. The three people areBrown, Carter, and Kennedy, and one ofthose three is going to become president ofthe United States. Of the three, Kennedy isby odds the one who is closest to D.S.Q.C.'spolitics on issues like national health. NowI think he's retreated far too much on thatissue, but nevertheless he's way to the lefton that than Carter or Brown. The same istrue with Kennedy on taxation and anti-recession full-employment policy. Kennedyis not adequate. As Barry Commoner saidrecently, Ted Kennedy is the best liberal inthe United States at a time when liberali¬sm is no longer adequate. But there is norealistic candidate to the left of Kennedy,and I believe a Kennedy candidacy willbring into political life Black people, Hispanic people, and working people whootherwise would not bother to be involved in political issues. Of course, this has to donot with Kennedy's personal virtues butbecause he is named Kennedy. The factthat he's the younger brother of the threehas a tremendous resonance in those communities. In terms of movement building,a Kennedy campaign gives us the mostelbow room. I try to think how we couldmuster up the troops of those people ifCarter gets the nomination. The Blacks inthe United Auto Workers Union are al¬ready for Kennedy. When I go to a UAWmeeting I talk to the people about the greatimportance of pushing Kennedy as far tothe left as possible.CLR: So you think that you have a strugglewithin the Kennedy campaign itself?Harrington: Absolutely. We've got to keepKennedy from moving any further to theright. We've got to get our delegates to theConvention in New York. One of thecharacteristics of all the Kennedy campaigns is that they're very broad. The Kennedys maintain ties with machine hacksand Marxists. I was on Robert Kennedy'sfuneral line. It was the most incredibly hetergeneous group of people — politicallyspeakaing — I've seen. There was TomHayden, there were Black militants, hackpoliticians, and so on. I think we have towork through coalitions such as DSOC'sDemocratic Agenda in Washington. If weget any attention, and we don't always, I'dlike to think those headlines will say something about left-wing Labor Democratspressuring Kennedy to stop being so goddamn right wing.CLR: Wasn't there once the possibilitythat you yourself would run in a pri¬mary?Harrington: I raised that possibility whenit did not seem likely that Kennedy wouldrun. It would be absurd for me to go intoIowa and try to take votes away from Kennedya, not the least because the tradeunion section of DSOC, which is heavilyweighed in the direction of unions whichare supporting Kennedy. My running waspredicted on, "what if Kennedy doesn'trun and no liberal wants to challengeCarter because no other liberal could?" I said there could be a great vacuum in thatsituation.CLR: Can we look at socialism in a widercontext for a moment? People point toEngland these days to show how one so¬cialist experiment failed. Now England isunder Margaret Thatcher and many sayEngland is suffering the after effects of socialist leadership. Why shouldn't we viewBritain as a cautionary story?Harrington: Well, for a number of reasonsone shouldn't. First, some of those experi¬ments worked. Their health system is bet¬ter and cheaper than ours. We have thedumbest health system in the world. I wishAmericans had the health care that theBritish do. Number two, it's very difficultfor a country to become the capital of anex-Empire. The ascendency of the LaborParty in British politics coincided precise¬ly with the collapse of the British Empire,which meant that a whole, miserable, un¬just source of the living standard of theBritish people was taken away from them.They didn't make any money off India orAfrica anymore. Thirdly, one of the thingsAmericans have trouble understanding isthat the British standard of living is muchbetter than it was twenty years ago. I alsohappen to think that London has far moreamenity and civility than New York. NewYork is a bloody mess. The difference be¬tween a New York taxi cab and a Londoncab is like night and day. I'd take the Lon¬don Underground any day compared withthe New York subway.CLR: You had an article in The New Republic a few months ago in which youspoke very optimistically about the ichances for new campus movements forprogressive DOlitical change. Many people— Democratic Socialists included —thought it was an article of more hopefulthinking than substance. What makes youthink, as you said in the article, that 1979may be like 1959 — that is, the thresholdfor activism?Harrington: l don't want to exaggerate,and it's true that l wrote the article in thecontext of dealing with the received estab¬lished wisdom that there is no studentmovement. But, this fall I was visiting a lotof places and l found campuses to be muchless quiet than one would be lead to be- Ilieve. At Notre Dame the organizers of mytalk were amazed at the large number ofstudents who appeared. In California on aseven-day tour and discovered a very wel¬come response. At San Francisco StateCollege, which is a commuter school ofmostly working-class students, 350 peopleshowed up. At Berkeley there were 500 andat Santa Barbara there were around 350.Last month DSOC recruited 136 people.For an organization of 3700 people that'snot an insignificant figure. Again, I don'twant to exaggerate, but I did notice an un¬common — for the Seventies, anyway —enthusiasm in the students whom I sawand spoke to on my tours.CLR: But aren't college campuses, partic¬ularly the more elite ones, a rather unreli¬able guide if you're looking for long termcommitment in activists?Harrington: Yes, and that's why I was soimpressed with the turnout at San Franci¬sco State college, which is by no means aprivileged school.CLR: As you look towards the Eighties,are you optimistic about what you see interms of radicalism?Harrington. Yes, and part of my congeni¬tal optimism comes from being a Marxistand because l wanted to join a movementthat would not necessarily triumph in mylifetime. But I do think America is rightnow in a period of severe crisis. And I don'tthink severe crises automatically createprogressive political responses. I think inthe next couple of years people are going tobe having some questions about capitalismwhich they didn't have in the Sixties. TheSixties was a time of confidence, euphoria-almost the opposite of now where there'ssuch obvious pessimism and confusion.Democratic Socialists don't have the an¬swer, because there is no the answer. Butwe have more of an answer than the othergroups I see around.Michael Harrington: To the left of the possible.The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 33rr - v ■ l .vv v Vv'ieist: ? srtT -cV<?i A Yti-'iTn A’.V.V' *'V - ■ J -T1 - ,Mean Streets: Martin Scorsese (1974). Thispunkish and violent effort brought Scor¬sese to the attention of the film-goingpublic. Smaller-scaled and less aestheticthan his later efforts, it's cleanly etchedin both character and visuals. HarveyKeitel and Robert DeNiro are the youngstars who make their way to the top of thevicious heap and non stop jukebox juke-ing of New York's Little Italy. Doc Films,Tonight at 6:45 and 11 pm.Bloodbrothers: Robert Mulligan (1978).Tony Musante is one of three boozing andwhoring brothers in the Bronx. And whenhis son, Richard Gere tells him that hedoesn't want to follow in his father's stepsand become a construction worker, hetakes it as an affront. What ensues is fair¬ly watery and vague social melodrama.It's really a nice, small film at heart, anda good one, but the thematic tensions ofsocial significance weigh it down. Mulli¬gan's direction is competent if not overlyexciting, with four-square compositions,often limping pacing, and simple-mindedcutting. Gere is overwrought, but thephotography by Robert Surtess placesthe silliness and the copping out of back¬ grounds. Doc Films, Tonight at 9 pm.Bananas: Woody Allen (1971). This wasmade well before Allen got pretentiousand it's probably his funniest film. Thereis little logic or pacing of any kind and thevisual style is cf the flattened-out, StoneAge sort, but with scenes like the onewhere Woody walks into a delicatessen toorder food for an entire guerilla army,who cares? The plot, as much as there is,concerns the efforts of one New Yorkschlemiel to impress his girlfriend,Louise Lasser, by assisting in the revolu¬tion in some South American country.And then there's Howard Cosell . . . DocFilms, Saturday, at 7:15 and 9 pm.Mr. Deeds Goes To Town: Frank Capra(1936). A hick who writes the poems forgreeting cards (Gary Cooper) inheritsbig bucks and is sent to the Big City, ac¬companied by Lionel Stander and War¬ren Hymer. There he has runs in with allsorts of types and falls for reporter JeanArthur. Meanwhile the baddies try tohave him committed. All in all, it's amarvelous job of casting, pacing, andwriting, although hokey and corny atmost turns. But who can forget Cooper disturbing the peace in the park with Ar¬thur or the moment when Lionel Standeris ripping his hair out searching high andlow for Cooper, who happens to be enjoy¬ing himself playing the stock bass tubapart to "Auld Lang Syne'' in the townband — and happy as all get out. LawSchool Films, Thursday, Dec. 13, at 8:30pm.The Palm Beach Story: Preston Sturges(1942). A non-stop stream of gags ensueswhen Claudette Colbert leaves her aspir¬ing inventor husband (Joel McRea) tomarry someone rich. She feels, you see,that she is only dragging his career down.So she takes the train to the title resortwith McRae tight on her heels. Probablythe fastest of all films, with some ofSturges' most brilliant and hystericalbits, it is also a model of comic form.Among most memorable conceptions arethe Ale and Quail Club's ten-minute de¬molition of an entire railroad car, RudyVallee's tycoon who writes down everyexpenditure — but never counts them up— and Mischa Auer as a household pet.Law School Films, Saturday, Dec. 15 at8:30 pm. All remaining Doc Films, are shown inQuantrell Auditorium, Cobb Hall, and cost$1.50; Law School Films are shown in (youguessed it) the Law School Auditorium, andcost the same.-Rory McGahanIran, World Situation, and War: An opendebate; speakers include Karim, visitingprofessor from Iran; an Iranian student;and a member of RCYB. Today at 4 inQuantrell.Brain Police: Live rock at the Pub; tonight9:30-12:30. Pub membership required.University Chamber Orchestra: JeanneScaefer will conduct a program of Mo¬zart, Mendelssohn, Respighi, and Hinde¬mith. Tomorrow at 8 pm in Mandel.Free.The Good Doctor: Neil Simon's comedystarts tonight, and runs through Dec. 16with performances at 8:30 Fridays andSaturdays and at 3 and 7:30 on Sundays.Reynolds Club Theatre (3rd floor).753-3583. $1.50, students; $2.50, general.The Little Fair: A sale of Indian art and Af¬rican, Greek, and Italian imports to ben¬efit a halfway house for the rehabilitationof alcoholic Indians. Blue Gargoyle,Tuesday, Dec. 11, 10 am - 4 pm.251-0835.The Best of Second City: The troupe per¬forms to raise the dough for Court's newtheater building. Monday, Dec. 17 at 8:30in Mandel. 753-3583. $3, students; $5, fac¬ulty and staff; $7, general; $100, "Bene¬factor;" $1000 for named seat in new the¬ater.Songs of the Season: The Chicago Chil¬dren's Choir, with members fromall parts of the city and several sub¬urbs, will sing its annual holiday con¬certs next Saturday and Sunday, Dec. 15and 16. The program will include Chanu¬kah songs, carols from around the world,spirituals, and gospels. Mendelssohn's"There Shall Be a Star from Jacob" willbe featured. United Church of HydePark, 53rd and Blackstone. Saturday,Dec. 15 at 8 pm; Sunday, Dec. 16 at 3 pm.$4; $2, for elementary school childrenand senior citizens.ROC KSAN DSTARSby Lisa von DrehleI was in Detroit recently and talked with one of my parents' neigh¬bors, a middle aged lawyer and bigwheel in the Detroit Irish mob.He is bloated from heavy drinking and dissipated by too much easysuccess. He cornered me, gold chains clinking, and said, "I havenever actually met someone who went to the University of Chicago.What is it like?"Ahhhhh, I am called on to defend being "an egghead" again. Thisis how my father characterizes U.C. students when he talks aboutme at cocktail parties. He throws it back at me, too, urging metowards a more practical school where I could get a vocational de¬gree.I try to defend my choice but find it difficult to dispute his prag¬matism. He undermines my confidence by harping on the "saleabi¬lity" of an English degree when I do not want an academic career.But it is not only him. I meet people all the time who have neverheard of this place. I explain that U.C. is not Circle Campus and trotout the line about "more Nobel Prize winners ..." to differentiateit. I try to convince them of the integrity of my education here but find it difficult to convince myself.Now is the time when the breakneck pace of the quarter systemrules my life. I study for exams, trying to make sense of 13 Shakespeare plays after only 10 weeks of study, or last year, rushingthrough history from the ape to Three Mile Island in 30 weeks. Thatis more of a speed and endurance test than a learning experience.The work load which such volume entails does not leave time to de¬velop an understanding of what I am reading.And, this pressure drives people away. In the past two years Ihave had eight good friends quit. Some are at school on the westcoast ("You should come out here! Learning can be fun, too.");others are working. Each one has taken with them certain qualitieswhich made U.C. more enjoyable for me.Yet, I'm still here, pursuing my "liberal education." As winterarrives it gets harder to justify. But something in me knows that it isright, something which I can't articulate yet to that paunchy lawyeror to myself. I think that after I leave I will understand why l stuckit out. In the meantime, I try to assimilate all of that Shakespeare,make sense of my other courses and relax with those friends who remain.The (Jniotrsitu of ChicagoTHE DIVISION OF THE HUMANITIESannouncesan illustrated lecturebyNORMAN GOLBProfessor of Hebrew and Judaeo-Arabic Studies,Department of Near Eastern Languages and Civilizations-with Mme. Jean Lecanuet as guest of honor-on the topic:THE ROUENDISCOVERIESBreasted Hall, The Oriental Institute1155 East 58th StreetTUESDAY, DECEMBER 11, 19798:00 P.M.The lecture is free and open to the public MUSIC BYDie University 0(^*1—f 1**1 |of Chicago O V null,PA LCSTRJ N AJ08ES5Vocal and _ _ , , _ _ .Instrumental C L_T C I fw 1 .ensembles O V 11 XL I INFERRABOSCOCO PER ARlOSWEEUNCK r, thepublicj?4ugu$tana Lutheran Church5500 South D/oodlawnAve:r.Friday ■ 7 December11919 -8:io PM- HERE’S ONEENGINEERING OPPORTUNITYYOU WON’T GETIN PRIVATE INDUSTRY.If you’re thinking about a technical position after graduation,think about this. How many companies can offer you a nuclear jsubmarine to operate? The answer is none. Equipment like ;this is available only in the Navy.The Navy operates over half the nuclear reactors inAmerica. So our training is the most comprehensive.As a commissioned Nuclear Propulsion Officer who has suc¬cessfully completed a year of nuclear training, you’ll receivea $3,000 bonus. Plus a top salary and responsibility foradvanced technical equipment.If you’re majoring in engineering, math or the physical sci¬ences, find out about the Nuclear Navy. Contact:LT Dave BartholdNaval Officer Consultants.Bldg. 41, NAS Glenview, IL 60026(3121657 2169. collectNAVY OffKER. rr$ NOT MIST A JOS, ITS AN ADVENTURE.RETURN SHAPIRO ART!byTUES., DEC. 11 to Ida Noyes Hall 210If the weather Is bad, please cover your painting 9:00 a.m -4'30 DmThere will be a late charge ’ ’ '34 — The Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979iBSBHMHMMMim..towing. 624-5118 SHANI'S.CLASSIFIED ADSAD RATESMaroon classifieds are effective andcheap. Place them in person at theMaroon business office in Ida NoyesHall by mail to the Maroon, Ida NoyesHall room 304, 1212 E. 59th St.,Chicago, 50637. All ads must be paid inadvance. Rates: 60' per line (30spaces) for U of C people, 75' per lineotherwise. $1 for special headline.Deadlines: For Tuesday paper, 12noon Friday; for Friday, 12 noonWednesday.Display advertising rates areavailable upon request. 753-3263.SPACEStudio apt available Jan. lskstone Villa 752-2223. . Blac-1 bedroom apartment in high rise con¬dominium overlooking lake. Com¬pletely redecorated, brand new ap¬pliances and air conditioners. Saunaetc. in building. South Shore area,close to 1C, Hyde Park bus, UCminibus. Rent from owner, $350 permonth. 667-5360 after 4pm orweekends. Available December 15thor January 1st.Sublet turn. 1 br apt in New York City.Avail now $300. 493-8127, 753-0516.ROOMMATE WANTED BeginningWinter Quarter. Convenient to campusand Co-op. Modern 4-bedrm, niceview. $130/month. 493-1184.GARAGE SPACE or off street parkingneeded for small foreign carpreferably nr. 54th and Dorchester.Call 241-5725 eves, best,Lovely Co-op near campus. 2 bdrms.w/woodburning frpl. beamed ceilingin Ivg rm„ dining rm„ new kitchen andbath. Move in now. To see call EleanorCoe. KENNEDY, RYAN, MONIGALASSOCIATES, 5508 S. Lake Park.667-6666.1 bedroom in 3 bedroom semi- furnish¬ed apt. A/C 24 hr. security, on campusbus routes. $92/mo. 8, elec. Start Jan.1. Call Jane 7-6897 or 538-6159. Nonsmoker preferred.10 room house 6127 S. Kimbark St. (2)full, 2 half baths. $400 per mo. U payutilities & heat. Phone 955-4511,842-3994.Room-mate wanted to share threebedroom apt. with two others in E.Hyde Pk. Apt. is spacious and furnish¬ed. Rent is $190 per month. Call643-6049Room wanted for SINGLE PARENT(quiet nonsmoker) and 2 yr. olddaughter ASAP Co-op meals and child¬care preferred. 684-2307 Chuck.CLASSIC S. SHORE DRIVE bldg bylake. Lovely 1 bedrm. apt., laundry,new brown shag crptg, very private,ideal for single. Top security, by UCbus, 1C, CTA $195, 221-6606. Avail, now3 hrs. weekly maintenance work ifdesired.Professor here Spring quarter onlyseeks nice apartment or house to rent.753-8712. ,OLD ELEGANCE-Private room andstudy in gorgeous large S. Shore Dr.apt. in very special bldg. Excellentsecurity, clean congenial and maturemale, non-smoker $125 incl. util.221-6606.3 Br., 2 ba. fac/staff apt. Avail. Jan. 1.Spacious and comfortable. Rent $443.Present tenants wish to sell w/wcarpeting and air conds. 955-0432eves., wknds.One Ig rm for neat non-smoker M or Fin nice well-located HP apt. $150 moand utls. Jan, 1,752-5124; 955-7450.ROOMMATE WANTED to share 3bdr. apt., in Regents Park. Diswshr,lakeview, heat included. Close to cam¬pus. Master bdr. available with ownbath. Call Charles at 324-2853.Nice 3-bdr. apt. for rent cheap. Winterquarter only. 753-8712.Willing to share my nearby lovely aptwith working or graduate woman. Callevenings 538-5616.SUBLET Winter Quarter: 1 br. in 3 Br.apt. $115/mo. Lake view, on Bus rt.Safe area. Call 752-0391.Studio 5500 S. Shore Dr. $261/mo. un-furn. 1 Year lease. 684-2635 or 752-3800.One room to two bedroom, sunny high-rise apt. available now or mid-December. Rent (your share) is $120+ utilities-heat free. Right on "C" busroute at 54th & Harper. Non-smokerpreferred. Call Nancy at 684-5478.(keep trying).Sublet sunny deluxe corner 2 bedroom,2 full bath at 5020 S. Lake Shore.Beautiful lake and city view. Beginn¬ing Dec. 15, $431/mo. Call 667-4952/eve,Three congenial people loooklng forfourth to share large apt., sharemeals, non-smoker, grad student orworking person. $100.00.684-4743.PEOPLE WANTEDThe Department of BehavioralSciences needs people who want toparticipate as paid subjects inpsychol inguistic and Cognitivepsychology experiments. For furtherinformation call 753-4718.WANTED: Graduate student toassume UC housing contract. REWARD! Call Jane at 247 6037.S E C R E T A R Y-Center for theManagement of Public and Non-profitEnterprise in the Graduate School ofBusiness seeks a Secretary, full-timeor part-time. Must be able to deal ef¬fectively with the public in person andon the telephone. Good typing skills re¬quired. Separate office. Please callLeslie Evans, Personnel Office.753-4464.Full-time positions available forfriendly, attractive, hard-working peo¬ple. Call Jean, 667-2000. Mellow YellowRestaurant. 1508 E. 53rd St.Part-time physical education andRecreation worker needed for gym¬nastics, swimming, ice skating andfencing. Hyde Park J.C.C. 363-2770.DESK RECEPTIONIST, full time.Mon-thru Fri. 9 a.m.-5 p.m. Goodworking conditions. Excellentbenefits. Call 548-1303. Ask for Nancy.WA IT RESSES-WA ITERSCounter CooksThe Medici Restaurant at 1450 E. 57thhas several full and part time positionsopen. Please see either Jim or Jerry.Musicians wanted to audition forUniversity Symphony Orchestra.Winter concert includes music ofPoulenc, Debussy, Sibelius, andStravinsky. Auditions held January 5through 8, 1980, for all woodwind andbrass sections and for new stringplayers. For information call theDepartment of Music, 753-2612.Student or student wife wanted forsteady babysitting 2-3 evenings/weekin large home near campus. 3 girls; 4yrs. 2 yrs. 3 rnos. $4/hr or possible ex¬change for private room and bath.666-2339, afternoons or evenings.Driver w/van part time please, phoneanytime. Goodman 753-8342.10th District Students become involv¬ed in Bob Weinberger's active campaign for Mikvas vacated seat call288-1543.Chicago Sinai Congregations seeks afull time secretary (40 hrs) for theRabbi. Excellent typing skills, someshorthand. Available now. Call Mrs.Kallish 286-1600.FOR SALEHALF-FARE UNITED COUPONS forsale call 955-7472 or 241-7282 exceptweekends.SAY HAPPY HOLIDAY with aWomen's Crew Stroke Shirt, or newrainbow design! Perfect for the hard*to-please. Only $5. Reynolds Club eachMonday, Tuesday 11:30-1:30.1973 VW 412 SQBK Wgn. 69,000 miles.Good running cond. Needs minimalbody work. Radials. Am-Fm stereo.$1300 or best offer. 624-0742, after 5p.m,73 Duster, low mileage, good condi¬tion, Winter garaged. A/C, pwr.brakes anu .teering, snow tires. $1300.Call Art or Renee. 241-6220.U of C Commemorative plate shows 9scenes $95.00 Goodman 753-6342.Remington Standard Typewriter, verygood condition. Asking $45. Jane684-1660.Stereo Console with record changer inbeautiful capehart cabinets. Also twinbed-both reasonable. 583-5616.Goodman's "Christmas Carol" 4 pr.tickets at cost $11.50 Sat. Dec. 22268-1877 aft. 4 p.m.BASEMENT SALE: Dec. 7, 8, and 9.6836 S, Merrill. Antique dolls, brassking size headboard, stereo, drapes,dishes, new and used items. Free cof¬fee and donuts.PEOPLE FOR SALEARTWORK • posters, illustration,calligraphy, invitations, etc. NoelYovovich, 5441 S. Kenwood 493-2399.Typing done on IBM by college grad.Pica type. Term papers, theses,dissertations, law briefs, manuscripts,resumes, letters, etc. Fast, accurate,reliable, reasonable. Near North Side.Call today 248 1478Excellent, accurate typist with legalexperience will type papers anddissertations on IBM Selectric.Reasonable rates. 684-7414Thesism Disert, Manuscripts, latestIBM Corrective Sel II typewriter.Rates based on Vol and condition ofdraft. Best Eminence Bond turn. Mrs.Ross. 239-5982.Will do professional typing from copy,dictaphone or shorthand. (821-1868).PERSONALSWriters' Workshop Plaza 2-8377,Hans Brinker: If you want visuals,we'll play "mah zeh" at dinner. If youwant olfactory thrills we'll go to Har¬vard yard. If you want to be ravished,we'll go back to the Ritz. Personally, Ijust want good food. — Klutz.To Gobe: someday your prince willcome-but don't be surprised if he isholding a spatula and carrying a plateof hash browns. Kitchen Drudge.Tony May-Stop filling the Maroon'svaluable space with Hangman jokes.PS What did the hangman say to thehanged man? "I can see you're all tied up at present."Sam and RobertDanny: All the creatures here inMonsterland wish your arm a speedyrecovery! Love, Gondola-PS You mustlearn to buy your oldest sister lovelyifts and give her breakfast in bed --he deserves it! Ha-ha!Dear Jack P: I didn't mean to snubyou in Regenstein the other night; Justdidn't recognize you in the glare.Apologies from an English majorLOST ANDFOUNDLOST: Black Looseleaf notebook.FOUND: black looseleaf notebook.Apparantely switched at UC bookstore. Nov. 21. Contact J. Wiegand.752-9655.BLACK CHECKBOOK, Lost nearReynolds Club Dec. 3. Call Laura Cuzz 111o. 753-2163.FOUND: Calculator found 12/3 on the7:30a.m. East-West bus. Call MichaelGardner 3-2527, 3-2511.ASINGULARGROUPOur Gallery of creative arts and craftsis now open Tues.-Fri. 11-2, Sat. 11-3and Sun. 11-1, located at the corner of57th and Woodlawn in the UnitarianChurch. We have a large selection ofjewelry, pottery, paintings, softsculpture, macrame, weaving,photography etc. Stop in and browse.REDTAPEStuck in the bureaucracy? Issomething not working as it should?The Student Ombudsman can help youcut red tape and solve that problem.Talk to the Ombudsman in ReynoldsClub 204 or call 753-4206.RIDESDriver/needed to Boston, leaving Dec.15th. Share gas and tolls; leave yourname and phone in a note for Pam atthe Medici.PROGRAMMERANALYSTComputing Services in the GraduateSchool of Business needs a Program¬mer/Analyst whose primary functionis to work with the GSB faculty. App¬licants should be well-versed instatistics and/or econometrics, in ad¬dition to having programming skills.The environment includes a DEC-2050and IBM 370/168. If interested andqualified, call Faye Citron, 753-4290.The University of Chicago is an EqualOpportunity/Affirmative ActionEmployer.INTENSIVEGERMANHigh pass the German Exam! Studywith Karin Cramer, native German,Phd, using the comparative structuraltranslation method. 15 week course, 60sessions, start Jan 14 Mon-Thurs 12-1and 6-7. Call 493-8127 or 753-0516.SALES SECRETARYHyde Park Hilton, Exciting job foroutgoing, people-oriented person. Ex¬cellent typing, Great benefits, Salarycommensurate with experience. Ref.288-6500.KEYPUNCHINGFast, accurate keypunching. $10/hr.Verify possible. Call 753-2517 afts.SLEEP LABMale undergraduates, ages 17-22needed for sleep study. Payment willbe $100.00 for sleeping three nights inlab and completion of variety of testsand questionnaires. Apply in person at5741 S. Drexel, Room 302, M-F, 9-4. Nophone calls please.CONDO FOR SALEE. Hyde Pk., 2 bd., new kitchen, cpt.$42,500.493 3822WOMAN'SRAP GROUPWoman's Rap Group meets everyWednesday at 7:30 p.m. on the 3rdfloor of the Blue Gargoyle. For infocall 752-5655.OLYMPIC RECIPESGIVE A COOKBOOK of athletes'recipes as a gift this Christmas tosuport U.S. team and ChicagoWomen's Crew. At Reynolds ClubMonday, Tuesday 11:30-1:30. $5.SERVICESNeed your car repaired quickly? Wedo on the spot work. Get going without SHAPIRO ARTBe sure to return your borrowed art byTues. Dec. 11 to Ida Noyes Hall, Rm.210. There will be a charge if youreturn them any later. If it is rainingor snowing, please cover the paintingsand frames with plastic.WOMEN'SMAGAZINEPrimavera V is out! On sale in mostlocal bookstores We need new staffmembers. Call 752-5655 for infor.FOLK DANCINGThe U. of C. Folkdancers have twoweekly meetings at Ida Noyes, Sun¬days at 8:00 Int.-Adv. and Mondays at8:00 Beginners All welcomeGOTTA PLAYSANTA?Rent our complete red and white out¬fits for your party. Ms. Claus outfitstoo! Call Student Activities ext. 3-3592.FURNITURESALEArmchairs, tables, lamps, for sale324-2853.KING CONAN ftlKing Conan #1 issue from MARVEL at"the funny papers" Hyde Park 5238 S.Blackstone, 955-0974.LIVE MUSICSaturday night Music Live at the PubThis week Rock with The Brain Police,9:30-12:30p.m.SHANI'SNecklaces and earrings for YOURGlamorous WIFE or to make her moreso! Shani's 5501 S. Everett, openFridays 5-7, Saturdays 12-4, Sundays2-6, 752-5173, 241-5173.NUCLEAR FIELDISOPENCollege seniors and recent collegegraduates in good physical condition,under 27, needed to fill exciting postions in the rewarding field of nuclearenergy. Excellent starting payfabulous medical plan, 4 weeks paicannual vacation and much more. Ncexperience necessary, we will trairyou. Send resume to: Nuclear PoweProgram Manager, Dept. 04, Bldg. «’Glenview, III 60026.BRIGHT ANDBULKVWOVEN GLASS OR PENCIL CASEfor the person who can never finewhere they put them! SHANI'S! 550S E verett!!!LUNCHTIMECONCERTSWill be returning winter quarter ever'Thursday at 12:15 in Reynolds NorttLounge. The opening concert will be1/10, a solo piano recital given by JarLauridsen. Sponsored by the Department of Music. Eat lunch to beautift.and varied programs all winter long!WINTER BLAHS?CLASSES IN JEWELRY & WEAVING!! at SHANI'S for yourself or rfriend. Gift certificates available faJanuary classes Pre-teen, teen amadults. 241-5173.HANUKKAHCandles and Menorah and Dreide sare available for purchase at Hille5715 S Woodlawn, 752-1127.ACHTUNG!ENJOY LEARNING GERMAN ANDHIGH PASS THE LANGUAGE EXAM! Take April Wilson's popular anoeffective 15 week course starting Jan.U, 3 sections. $150. Call 667-3038.ALCOHOLICSUNANIMOUSMeeting this Saturday in the Pub. Livedemonstration by Clyve "1001 waysyour small computer may screw up."IRAN AND U.S.Hear Prof. Marvin Zonis Assess TheSituation on the First Friday Eveningof Winter Quarter-January 11, 1980 at8.30 p.m. at Hillel Foundation, 5715 S.Woodlawn Ave TRAVEL LIGHTStrange little gifts for the folks backhome at "the funny papers" 5238 S.Blackstone.MUSICTake a break. University Chamber Or¬chestra concert Sat. 8:30 p.m., MandelHall. Mozart, Himdemith, Respighi.PEDIATRICPHYSICALTREATMENTOpening in our modern P.T dept. LaRabida is a pediatric hospital af¬filiated with the U. of C. Patients arethose with J.R.A, C.P., Burns, Ortho,and Neuro. impairments. There is in¬volvement in clinics, conferences, androunds with various pediatricspecialities. Competitive salary andfringe benefits. Such as 4 weeks vaca¬tion and tuition reimbursement. Youmust be Illinois registered or eligible.New grads considered. Please call:363-6700 Ext. 233, Personnel Coor¬dinator LaRabida Children's Hospitaland Research Center, East 65th St. atLake Michigan, Chicago, III. 60649.Equal Opportunity Employer.UC HOTLINEFrom 7p.m. to 7a.m. there is a placeyou can call if you have a question,need a referral or want to talk-the UCHotline. The Hotline will close forbreak 7a.m. December 17, and willreopen Sunday, January 6. Have agood break!HOWARDTHEDUCKHoward The Duck holiday issue at"the funny papers" Hyde Park 5238 S.Blackstone, 955-0974.MID-WINTERTREATGIFT-CERTIFICATES from READ WHITMANALOUD 1People have always told me to readWalt Whitman, but I haven't. Haveyou? Let's spend an hour or so findingout who he is, before Christmas break.Not for an audience. 752-8368.AUDITIONSFor all woodwind and brass sectionsand for new string players, Jan. 5-8.The University Symphony Orchestra'swinter repertoire includes Poulenc'sOrgan Concerto, Debussy's 3 Nocturnes, Sibelius's Second Symphony,and Stravinsky's Concerto for Pianoand Winds, for more information callthe Dept, of Music, 753-2612.FOR SALEAmerican Air coupons-$25 643-0933SCENESThe Sivananda Yoga Center proudlyannounces the visit of Swami VishnuDevananda, author of the Complete Il¬lustrated Book of Yoga Swami Vishnuwill speak at 8:30p.m., Wed. Dec 19 at1246 W. Bryn Mawr, 878-2468. Don. $3.VERSAILLES5254 S. DorchesterWELL MAINTAINEDBUILDINGAttractive 1V* and2V2 Room StudiosFurnished or Unfurnished$192to $291Based on AvailabilityAll Utilities IncludedAt Campus Bus Stop324-0200 Mrs. Groaki Ruby's Merit ChevroletSPECIALDISCOUNT PRICESfor oil STUDENTS andFACULTY MEMBERSJust present your University ofChicago Identification Card.As Students or Faculty Membersof the University of Chicago you areentitled to special money-savingDISCOUNTS on Chevrolet Parts,Accessories and any new or usedChevrolet you buy from Merit Chev¬rolet Inc. 2FS1 GM QUALITY1^1 SERVICE PARTS Li *\Kct/i I hit! (rrrupC 1/ tectin# &Uu nhGENERAL MOTORS FARTS DIVISION I \ t.GI//W V—Hi RUBY’SCHEVROLET72nd & Stony Island 684-0400Open Daily 9-9 Sat. 9-5 Parti open Sat. 'til Noonim RUBY’S4 ^VOLKSWAGEN r72nd & Stony Island 684-0400Open Daily 9-9, Sol. 9-5 Parti open Saf. 'til NoonThe Chicago Literary Review, Friday, December 7, 1979 — 35V\V v\ 'l9d(Tl93eCl .Vfcbn^ .W^iv^si ; 1 i.vplus couch and chest of drawers, goodcondition, cheap Call Charles, 753-1777END OF YEARCommencing Tuesday 12/11/79NEW TITLES DAILY.ALL SUBJECTS“Coffee table books”Specially PricedOVER STOCK:KIDS’ BOOKSNew arrivals:Nautical booksMedieval historvFree masonryCASH FOR BOOKSPOWELL’SOOKSTORE1501 E. 57th St.955-7780OPEN EVERY DAY 9 AM to 11 PM The PerfectChristmas GiftHYDE PARK HOUSESAn Informal History, 1856-1910Jean F. BlockHundreds of splendid examples of nineteenth-centurydomestic architecture, still standing today, tell thestory of Hyde Park's growth from a pastoral prairiesettlement to a thriving urban community. Jean F.Block, a lifelong resident, brings that storyto us in this detailed architecturalhistory of Hyde Park'sfirst fifty years.$12.951978 228 p. 9>/<x9>/276 photographs, 22 figuresCloth ISBN: 0-226-06000-4The University ofChicago PressChicago 60637 Hyde \Park HousesJEANJANISJOPUtTSGREATEST HITSmck»d*"9xsssassstsz^; •%LREOCheap TrickChicagoO’JaysSantanaKansasPeter ToshMiles DavisBarbara StreisandHerbie HancockIsley Bros. Maynard FergusonSimon & GarfunkeiWeather ReportBill WithersSpin-lt Presents Great Music for the 80’sat Prices from the Early 70’sSpin-lt presents a sale on CBS solidHere’s just a few of the artistsyou can save on ... gold!Over 300 LP’s to choose fromSALE ENDS DEC. 31,1979 All CBS $598 listLP’snow only$429■ each3 for S125 for S19