348
SAUL BELLOW
BUMMIDGE:
Now, I'm a mannikin with a pipe in my belly, hairy
all
over. I'm reaching the stage of Man. And this is snug harbor, para–
dise. I'm retired before I'm born. But it can't last. Change rules
over us
all.
Oh, the pains are starting. Contractions. (
He doubles up)
Fifteen, ten, eight, four, two. Oh, Mother, our time has come. The
bag breaks. Help. I'm grounded, it's dry in here. What is that
push–
ing? I'm sea-sick. I begin to hear screams. They're hollering out–
side, Mama louder than the rest. The water is hot. There are
clean newspapers on the floor. Look at the midWife. She has snuff
in her lip. She carries icetongs. She has whiskers. Pa is rolling
his
eyes. I'm being expelled into life. Torn from safety. I'm having
the birth trauma. Oh, ooooh!
MADGE:
It
was a difficult birth. Mama would often talk about it.
BUMMIDGE:
I'm choking-choking! Yacht Air,
air,
get me
air.
Give
me oxygen. My eyes are scalded. Help. Call the pulmotor.
(New–
born, with wrinkled face and clenched fists)
Oh.
(He slaps himself
on the behind and gives the fe eble infant wail)
Eh-eh-eeehh!
(Mott
with a piece of cotton daintily cleans his upturned face)
So
this
is
the external world!
(Mott holds an inflated balloon to his face)
She
holds me in her arms and gives me the breast. Bliss! I'm Emperor of
all pleasure. Master of all the loving world. I am it.
It
is me.
SHELDON:
I.
BUMMIDGE:
(Makes a face)
Mrrgha.
WINKLEMAN:
Weaning.
BUMMIDGE :
Driven from Paradise again. The beginning of knowledge.
Disappointment. Strife. The reality
prinzip.
The Ego formation. Ag–
gression.... Death. Law. Thou shalt not.
(Simpering child)
But Ma–
ma. You fascinating. Allover electric.
(As mother)
Wicked, bad
boy! Bad, bad, bad! I'll tell Papa.
(As child)
Oh, Mama, no! Pro–
tect me. I be your slave. . . . And so I must bow my head to the
Oedipus complex. Flesh is a cross to bear. And now I'm on my own.
In the street. The horses try to knock me down. The trolley is about
to grind my guts. The fire-escape . . . I fall from the roof. Society
wants to harness me. Disease wants to infect me. Death is rocking
the boat ... I run, and hide, and lie and steal and hate and lust. No
time to hitch my stockings, dry my nose. . . . And so life unfolds,
ladies and gentlemen. Puberty passes. I go into the world. I have
my poor inventions.
(Sings) I live over the wye-educt
Down by the winegar..;woiks.
BELLA:
When I first met him, he was doing that.
