CECIL BROWN
281
reasonably good months between the diagnosis and the time you
become really sick. He died in Memorial Hospital in New York,
which I don't recommend. They weren't kind. They've become very
callous, you know, they 've seen so much death. He was a very
healthy man but he smoked four packs of cigarettes a day. He was
almost a chain smoker. I was with him the last day. He went to sleep
so I left the room. A few hours later I was told that he died. I think
that he realized he was going to die that night. When I came to his
hospital room he pointed to these little paper cups full of blood. Just
pointed to them. He could talk, but he didn't say anything, just
silently pointed
to
them.
Int.:
After Frank's death, you went to the loony bin, and after the
loony bin you came out with a confirmed new style of writing.
Williams:
Yes.
Int.:
Are you fascinated by madness?
Williams:
Somewhat fascinated. I saw
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's
Nest
and I thought it was appallingly bad. It had absolutely no
pertinence to the subject matter.
Int.:
Madness and comedy-do you associate these two?
Williams:
Real madness is very terrible. It's hard to treat with humor.
Int.:
But you were never afraid of going mad yourself?
Williams:
The tragic condition is terrible. I think that most of us are a
little mad. After all, we have to try to make an entity out of all our
predecessors, all the fragments of previous being that went into our
beings-to make a composite unit out of it. It's almost impossible.
We are bound to pe somewhat divided and split. I think all of us are.
Who knows , (speaking almost to himself) who knows what it takes
to make a civilized self.
Int.:
What was your father like?
Williams:
My father was a man who would not express his feelings
freely, you know. I'm sure he had feelings. He'd gone up
to
see
The
Glass Menagerie
in Chicago; he was deeply impressed that it was
sold out! They had to put a chair up in the aisle; a folding chair. He
was very impressed. My pa and I never had an articulated relation–
ship. We used to drive into work every day from the suburbs, all the
way down close to the waterfront in St. Louis. I used to try to think
of something to say to him. I would compose about three sentences
in my mind, hahaha! But he didn't go to that much trouble. I could
hardly bring out the three sentences. I would say something like "the
smog is heavy today, " or "the traffic is bad," you know, and to each
one he would grunt in some disparaging way: "What's this son-of-a-
