382
PARTISAN REVIEW
It
startled me when he misunderstood what I said - even that
he would do it for a purpose. The fact that we could talk, topic by
topic, with considerable rationality and, if I may, thematic coher–
ence, seemed to me to be more dramatically valuable than getting
our own ways - it was more important than asking favors of him or
him asking or pushing this.
But as soon as he crossed the line into playing-this-sort-of–
game-I mean iffriendship such as it was, was no good, and the talk
was no good, if he couldn't paw me - then, without thinking further
about it, I felt strongly that I could ask things.
1 mean, suddenly we were in the bazaar and were haggling:
"What is it about me that you like - my long legs, my calm, unbeg–
ging eyes-my nervous pimples?"
1 liked to have myself explained. And I'd found, after watching
others pull this maneuver, that asking about yourself in this way
destroyed the sexual texture of the scene; the drama of the other per–
son's advances, his or her sense of that drama, wound down into
gossip: a kind of folly. No one wanted a narcissist: no one was
devoted outward, only to what might be directed toward herself, to–
ward himself.
He scowled, self-conscious, dense, packed with momentums
briefly stilled: a kennelled nervousness: a dry electric buzz, a com–
plex fear of me, partly male fear of another man - (that was what ex–
cited him) - and partly fear of what 1 might be able to say. He was
hard-bodied, clever and intent, and cold and passionate: strongly
nostalgic. He said, "You deserve it, for me to ignore you."
"I am in love at the moment, Johnno, and it's with Ora, and I
really don't want to do this." Then: "You are a real son of a bitch to
do this - this stuff
hurts ME,
J ohnno - it is IMPOSSIBLE -"
"You don't know what you want-you're a middle-class snob."
"I want less suffering than this and less - dirtiness - "
He said-derisively-"The filth-it's you, it's in your blood,
that filth: the ordinary is worse filth and your lies are worse and you
know it. Love is
never
filth."
Deadpan mockery: "Is that true? Is that really true? How many
people do you expect me to be in love with at one time?"
"You lie about that," Johnno said with contempt.
Indeed, Ora made me angry enough and I got scared enough–
about things - that 1 did cheat on her: it was an odd business: the
whole thing with Ora and me was taut and intense and crazed - and
feverish. As a matter of course, when I was pissed with Ora or
