HENRY ROTH
277
wide and a mile long. I bought the place in March, 1946, and two
months later my wife and the two boys came out here to live. Mter
continuing work for six more months in Boston I settled down with my
family in Maine.
The years that followed were occupied with making a living and
supporting the family. I started out by taking a job as a teacher at a
school in which eight grades were all cooped up in one room. I never
learned the knack of keeping them all busy; while I was teaching the
eighth grade the first and second graders would get restless. I saw
myself as a juggler trying to keep up an illusion of perpetual motion.
There followed a variety of odd jobs - from putting in heating in–
sulation to fire fighting in the woods of Maine - whatever offered a
livable wage. In 1949, the same year we moved to Augusta, I went to
work as an attendant at the Augusta State Hospital and later became
a psychiatric aide, a position I held for four years. By then both of my
boys were in school and my wife was able to start teaching. From that
point on we managed fairly well, although our income never amounted
to much. My wife was a wonderful sport and took the ups and downs
in her stride. My own attitude was that there was no real meaning
outside of writing, so it did not really matter what I did.
Time passed, it became clear that the hospital job had no future,
and I turned to something new. Since we were down in a hollow near
a brook, I thought the farm would be a good place to raise waterfowl.
With the help of my boys that is what I did for a number of years.
I used to winter forty breeders each of ducks and geese in order to have
fertile eggs in the spring. Then I would incubate the eggs and peddle
the ducklings and goslings. I worked up a little trade in feathers too;
goose feathers are worth two dollars a pound. When my sons came
home from school they ran errands and did chores. That was a happy
period for me; I found it wonderful to be working with my own boys.
My life during those years revolved around the family. From time
to time I used to wish I could take part in intellectual discussion, but it
was pointless to attempt that with the neighbors. There was always my
wife, however, and discussion was carried on at home. The area of con–
tact between myself and the natives has been very slight, just as the
overlapping of that which is vitally important for them and myself is
minimal. The result is that my family and I have lived rather retired
lives, to the point where I seem no longer to miss anything in the way
of larger human contact. Being a Jew has not provided fellowship
either - nor has it been a problem. The Jewish population in Maine
is small and I doubt that most of the people I deal with know that I
am Jewish.
