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PARTISAN REVIEW
cellence"? Where did it come from? Why don't people take their time
before they start complaining? This nice man thinks I ought to be
excellent. It must be fun expecting things like that. This woman
ought to be excellent. This wine is excellent, this book is excellent,
these shoes of mine are excellent, why isn't this woman excellent?
The inner life. It's rabid. Running all over and nobody can catch it.
You get it by the tail and it bites its tail off and goes. Rabid and run–
ning. A humbling experience, the inner life. Everybody should have
one. They might not be so quick to complain. That's where things
are really happening. A mile a minute as folks used to say. And only
the day before he said it was really looking good. Enormous raving
praise from him who is usually so responsible even with praise. Now
I want to stand in a corner and yell. Send a telegram. "Sir: The world
is not filled with women who you can love, it's only filled with women
you can fuck or get fucked by but good; unless this is the opportunity
you have been waiting for to get out, you might want seriously to
reconsider your position. Letter follows." Four martinis and now I
want to go to Mexico in exactly five minutes. The only saving grace
is the awful quiet. I can't see how this is going to help. Revenge is
what I'm entitled to.
All his work on me. Fiddling with the psychopath while Rome
burned.
It
was great fun in the beginning too. The suffering slowly
stopped. I wasn't dead anymore. How much I wanted it and how
fast. I said to him, "I love your expertise, I love watching you attend
to every last detail. I want to salt and pepper your expertise, tear it
in pieces and eat it. There's something so cohesive all around you,
permanent and rooted and nonchaotic. So professional about your–
self, so absolutely on target. Objective. Every time I'm with you, I'm
awed by the sweep you have. You struggle with what the vast major–
ity would be unwilling even to peep at. You have a ferocious sense of
correctness. You are completely not-fooled. You never back off. You
are ethics to your marrow. So brilliant and good and thorough. When
you say anything, I listen. I get a new dimension about everything.
So many things to start me thinking. You whiz along so fast that at
one point I almost was passing out. I knew if I fainted it would alarm
you, and anyhow would be rude, so I held on. Sheer life for me, your
genius and your gifts. You're not a man you're a milestone. In you
the sum and substance of human capacity is told exactly. Nothing
greater on the scales. I'm sorry if this will cause you alarm, but I see
happiness as having you, the awesome judge. Maturity and genius.
