628
PARTISAN REVIEW
preferred to do things for himself as much as possible; he had to
rely on too many people as it was. So now he used a safety razor
stropped in a gadget a Czech inventor had personally sold him; he
swore by it. To shave took better than half an hour, chin on the edge
of the sink and hands in the water, working round his face. He
fished for the washrag, muffled himself in it; I could hear him
exhale through its papillae. He soaped, rubbed and played,
scraped, explored with fingers for patches of bristle, and I sat on
the cover of the pot and read. The vapor woke up old smells and there
was something astringent in the shaving cream he used that cut into
my breath. Then he pomaded his wet hair and slipped on a little cap
made of an end of woman's hose. Dried and powdered, he had to
be helped into his shirt, his tie put on- the knot inspected many
times by his fingers and warped exactly into place with some nervous–
ness about the top button. The jacket, next, finished off dryly with
the whiskbroom. Fly re-examined, shoes wiped of water drops, we
were all set and I got the nod to draw
him
into the kitchen for
breakfast.
His appetite was sharp and he crowded his food. A smart
stranger, unaware that Einhorn was paralyzed, would have guessed
he was not a well man from seeing him suck a pierced egg, for it was
something humanly foxy, paw-handled, hungry above average need.
Then he had this cap of a woman's stocking, like a trophy for an–
other field of appetites, if you'll excuse a sporting reference, or
martial one, on his head. He was conscious of this himself, for pret–
ty much everything was thought of and his mind in its way performed
admirable work with many of the things he did; or did not care to
stop himself from doing; or was not able to stop; or thought it only
creaturely human nature to do; or enjoyed, indulged, was proud
his disease had not killed his capacity for but rather left him with
more than many normal men. Much that's nameless to many people
through disgust or shame of it he didn't mind naming to himself
or to a full confidant (or pretty nearly so) like me, and he used
and worked all freely. There was plenty to be in on; he was a very
busy man.
There was a short executive period, after coffee, when Einhorn
turned his attention to household matters. Wrinkled, gloomy, Tiny
Bavatsky, string-muscled, was fetched up from the basement and
