- •Is at least negatively reassuring; because here, this morning, is where it has
- •Into the low damp dark living room, they agreed how cozy it would be at
- •Indifferent to him ex-cept as a character in their myths. It is only George
- •Vacant lot with a tray of bottles and a shaker, announces joyfully, in Marine
- •It would be amusing, George thinks, to sneak into that apartment
- •Impenetrable forest of cars abandoned in despair by the students during the
- •Intonation which his public demands of him, speaks his opening line: "Good
- •Irritation" in blandese. The mountains of the San Gabriel Range — which still
- •Is nearly always about what they have failed to do, what they fear the
- •Virile informality of the young male students. Most of these wear sneakers
- •If for a highly respectable party.
- •In the class. The fanny thing is that Dreyer, with the clear conscience of
- •It's George and the entire Anglo-American world who have been
- •In a cellar — "
- •Imaginary. And no threat is ever quite imaginary. Anyone here disagree with
- •Village in mind as the original of his Gonister. George is unable to answer
- •I mean, you seem to see what each one is about, and it's very crude and
- •Involvement. They simply wish each other well. Again, as by the tennis
- •Veteran addict, has already noted that the morning's pair has left and that
- •Indeed. But now, grounded, unsparkling, unfollowed by spotlights, yet
- •It should ever he brought here — stupefied by their drugs, pricked by their
- •Very last traces of the Doris who tried to take Jim from him have vanished
- •I am alive, he says to himself, I am alive! And life- energy surges
- •In the locker room, George takes off his clothes, gets into his sweat socks,
- •Idiot. He clowns for them and does magic tricks and tells them stories,
- •It? Today George feels more than usually unwilling to leave the gym. He
- •Instances does George notice the omission which makes it meaningless.
- •Is a contraption like a gallows, with a net for basketball attached to it.
- •It's a delicious smell and that it makes him hungry.
- •Violet, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows; a gipsyish Mexican skirt
- •Is not unmoved. He is truly sorry for Charley and this mess — and yet — la
- •In Buddy's blood — though it certainly can't be any longer. Debbie would
- •Is still filthy with trash; high-school gangs still daub huge scandalous words
- •Into a cow-daze, watching it. This is what most of the customers are doing,
- •In your car?"
- •Impersonal. It's a symbolic encounter. It doesn't involve either party
- •Impersonal. It's a symbolic encounter. It doesn't involve either party
- •Is was" — he downs the rest of his drink in one long swallow — "it's about
- •Intent upon his own rites of purification, George staggers out once more,
- •It's rather a slow process, I'm afraid, but that's the best we can do."
- •Important and corny, like some big sin or something. And the way they look
- •I keep it made up with clean sheets on it, just on the once-in-a-blue moon
- •Its consciousness — so to speak — are swarming with hunted anxieties, grimjawed
Irritation" in blandese. The mountains of the San Gabriel Range — which still
give San Tomas State something of the glamour of a college high on a
plateau of the Andes, on the few days you can see them properly — are hidden
today as usual in the sick yellow fumes which arise from the metropolitan
mess below.
And now, all around George, approaching him, crossing his path from
every direction, is the male and female raw material which is fed daily into
this factory, along the conveyer belts of the freeways, to be processed,
packaged and placed on the market: Negroes, Mexicans, Jews, Japanese,
Chinese, Latins, Slavs, Nordics, the dark heads far predominating over the
blond. Hurrying in pursuit of their schedules, loitering in flirty talk, strolling
in earnest argument, muttering some lesson to themselves alone — all bookburdened,
all harassed.
What do they think they're up to, here? Well, there is the official
answer: preparing themselves for life, which means a job and security in
which to raise children to prepare themselves for life which means a job and
security in which. But, despite all the vocational advisers, the pamphlets
pointing out to them what good money you can earn if you invest in some
solid technical training — pharmacology, let's say, or accountancy, or the
varied opportunities offered by the vast field of electronics — there are still,
incredibly enough, quite a few of them who persist in writing poems, novels,
plays! Goofy from lack of sleep, they scribble in snatched moments between
23
classes, part-time employment and their married lives. Their brains are dizzy
with words as they mop out an operating room, sort mail at a post office, fix
baby's bottle, fry hamburgers. And somewhere, in the midst of their
servitude to the must-be, the mad might-be whispers to them to live, know,
experience — what? Marvels! The Season in Hell, the Journey to the End of
the Night, the Seven Pillars of Wisdom, the Clear Light of the Void.... Will
any of them make it? Oh, sure. One, at least. Two or three at most — in all
these searching thousands.
Here, in their midst, George feels a sort of vertigo. Oh God, what will
become of them all? What chance have they? Ought I to yell out to them,
right now, here, that it's hopeless?
But George knows he can't do that. Because, absurdly, inadequately,
in spite of himself, almost, he is a representative of the hope. And the hope
is not false. No. It's just that George is like a man trying to sell a real
diamond for a nickel, on the street. The diamond is protected from all but the
tiniest few, because the great hurrying majority can never stop to dare to
believe that it could conceivably be real.
Outside the cafeteria are announcements of the current student activities: Squaws' Night, Golden Fleece Picnic, Fogcutters' Ball, Civic
Society Meeting and the big game against LPSC. These advertised rituals of
the San Tomas Tribe aren't quite convincing; they are promoted only by a
minority of eager beavers. The rest of these boys and girls do not really think
of themselves as a tribe, although they are willing to pretend that they do on
special occasions. All that they actually have in common is their urgency:
the need to get with it, to finish that assignment which should have been
handed in three days ago. When George eavesdrops on their conversation, it