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PARTISAN REVIEW
But what safety is there for any man, in a world which cannot as–
similate this difference? And what pride? And what adventure? And
what is to become of our world, when all the differences are gone?
La-ilah-illa-Allah,
there is no God but Allah. So Islam in decadence
strips us of our manhood, leaves nothing but submission to an impov–
erished and petrified will.
A simple, unambiguous will. I shall tell my father that I have
never particularly wanted to be a Jew. I have wanted to construct my
own difference; to choose my own causes and comrades. This much
he will surely understand. . . . And, of course, I shall tell him about
the Lebanon. It is not certain whether the Mountain will ever speak
clearly and boldly with Islam, or whether the only perspective is tact. Or
blind war. The Mountain is a sign, an ambiguous sign. But if we begin
by submitting to the world's distaste for ambiguity, what value, or hope,
can there be in our dialogue at all?
I close my eyes and dream a lovely letter. Is not the world made
richer, and more human, by those who take a passionate interest in
reason:tbleness and courage, if only because of their names? I tell the
old man that I am happy he's gone to Texas. When I was a child, I
saw him always with a hammer in his hand, building houses. He has
covered New Jersey with houses. Never mind, there is plenty of land,
and much to learn, in Texas.
I and my companions were old and tardy,
says Ulysses,
when we came to that narrow pass, where Hercules as–
signed his landmarks, to hinder man from venturing further.
...
'0
brothers,' I said, 'who through a hundred thousand perils have reached
the West, deny not to this, th e brief remaining vigil of your senses,ex–
perience of th e unpeopled world behind the Sun.'
. . .
And so they
turned their poop toward morning, until
there appeared to us a Moun–
tain, dim with distance ; and to me it seemed the highest I had ever
seen.
But a tempest arose from the new land and Ulysses was destroyed.
As pleased Another,
he tactlessly says.