Swann (39 page)

SARAH:
Mr. Jimroy, in his keynote address this morning, raised a number of interesting points, particularly the notion we have of regarding Swann as a kind of curious cultural hiccup isolated from any sort of cultural tradition. It is a compelling belief but shaky in my opinion, to think of Mary Swann’s work as a miniaturized, spontaneous, virgin birth, but —

SARAH:
 … And I’d like to state in conclusion that, like other self-generated artists, Mary Swann had the ability to state her truths with a sharpness and slant that lit up what had become stale by traditional use. It’s this, more than anything else that gives her work its power. Ladies and gentlemen, thank you. (There is a pleasing roll of applause, and a number of hands immediately go up.)

LANG
(stepping to microphone and holding up a hand): Just a few questions, I’m afraid. Lunch is ordered for 12:30 sharp. (He looks into the audience, spots Woman With Turban, and points.)

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Dr. Maloney, I found your remarks about the resonance of the primitive imagination interesting —

SARAH:
Actually, I didn’t use … I deliberately avoided the word
primitive
.

WOMAN WITH TURBAN
(waving this objection aside): Untutored then. Self-nurtured. Whatever. You seem to feel, if I understand you properly, that it is impossible for a twentieth-century being to escape the—what was the exact word —?

SARAH:
Matrix.

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Matrix, yes. That even at the edge of the social matrix, certain cultural ideas are absorbed. Even the social outcast —

SARAH:
With respect,
outcast
is another term that I rather rigorously —

WOMAN WITH TURBAN
(patiently): Even those at the
fringe
of the, shall we say, prevailing communal structure, are open to general patterns of cultural thought—have I quoted you correctly?

SARAH
(recovering some of her combative sparkle, but fearful of where this line of questioning is leading): Yes and no. It is, of course, very difficult to pin down what Swann may have perceived about the direction and … (searches for word)
shape
of modern poetry —

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
But isn’t that, in fact, exactly what we
must
do? Look beyond the work to some other form of documentation that reinforces —

SARAH:
Ideally, yes, but we all know how rare the ideal situation is. In Mary Swann’s case —

JIMROY
(standing suddenly and interrupting; his tone is peculiarly aggressive): If I may interrupt our questioner—whose name I’m afraid I don’t know —

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Professor Croft. From Tulane.

JIMROY:
Thank you, Ms. Croft. If I may interject … a special plea on my part, I’m afraid … that is to say, we are all anxious to discover
anything at all
that may illuminate the … character of Mary Swann’s special muse. And we all lament, I am sure, that there is so little apparent light. Mrs. Swann, alas, left us no transcribed manifesto. She did
not
write scholarly articles or essays elucidating her poetic theories. She did not enjoy the pleasure of an extensive correspondence. But she did, and perhaps this is what my distinguished colleague … Ms.… sorry, I’m afraid —

WOMAN WITH TURBAN
(crossly): Croft. From Tulane.

JIMROY:
—what Ms. Croft (pause) of Tulane … was alluding
to. The fact is, Mary Swann did keep a journal. I wonder, Dr. Maloney, if you, as the one person privy to the contents of this journal, might be persuaded to say a few words about it today? (He sits.)

SARAH:
Well, I —

JIMROY
(rising again): I am particularly interested, and I’m sure my colleagues at this symposium are equally interested—(he waves a hand airily)—in knowing when you intend to make Mrs. Swann’s journal available to the public. (He sits.)

MAN WITH OUTSIZE AFRO:
Hear, hear.

WOMAN WITH TURBAN
(also rising): And while we’re on the subject, maybe we should ask Professor Lang when he intends to publish Swann’s love poems. We’ve waited for —

SARAH:
I’m afraid —

LANG
(half-rising): We seem to be straying from the original question —

JIMROY
(rising): The question is really quite simple and can be answered in one word. When, Dr. Maloney, do you intend to publish Mary Swann’s journal?

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Surely the public, or at least those who have an academic investment, should be allowed access to the journal.

MAN WITH OUTSIZE AFRO:
Hear, hear.

SARAH
(nervously, rubbing her hair and taking a deep breath): The Swann journal … as you call it … which was given to me by Rose Hindmarch—(
CAMERA
close-up of Rose, who smiles in a vague and friendly way, apparently recovered from the earlier session)—given to me … precisely
because
there was so little of importance in it —

WATTLED GENT
(rising): But there must be something. That
is to say, the journal surely contains
words
and words contain
meaning
and so there must be, perforce, some … shall we say, value to even the most … cursory document. (He sits. There is an uneasy stirring in the room; people move in their chairs, murmur, clearly demanding an explanation.)

SARAH
(at a loss): The journal … as you call it—and perhaps I should never have used that term in my original article—covered a period of just three months, the summer of 1950. This was, as you all know, before Mrs. Swann began to write her poems —

JIMROY
(on his feet, jabbing the air): All the more reason, if I may say so, Ms. Maloney, that the journal holds interest for —

SARAH
(regarding him directly; from this point the debate is between the two of them: the Woman With Turban and Wattled Gent fade away): But it is
not
of interest, Mr. Jimroy. I sincerely hoped, when I first looked at it, that it would be. But there is nothing —

JIMROY:
Surely, Dr. Maloney, there is
something
.

SARAH
(close to tears): There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing that would interest —

JIMROY:
Then why not demystify the document by allowing others to —

SARAH
(exasperated): Shopping lists, Mr. Jimroy. That’s what’s in the journal. Comments about the weather. Once, once, she mentioned a door latch that was broken. Not a symbolic door latch, either. A real door latch. Anyone could have written the stuff on those pages. That’s the tragedy of—

JIMROY
(fiercely, but trying for control): Nevertheless, this material, marginal as it may be, and I suppose I must take your word for
that
, Dr. Maloney, this marginalia
does offer a glimpse of that private person behind —

SARAH:
But I am afraid it does
not
. Offer a glimpse, Mr. Jimroy. Otherwise I would have —

JIMROY
(trying for a statesmanlike approach): I can’t, of course, speak for my fellow scholars (he gestures broadly), but for the biographer (he claps a hand to his heart), for the biographer, that which
seems
trivial —

SARAH:
This journal, Mr. Jimroy, is not even particularly legible —

JIMROY:
Ah, that may be, but you see, even the illegible nature of the work offers a kind of comment on —

SARAH
(flustered): It’s really just … I can assure you … it is utterly lacking in meaningful —

JIMROY:
Dr. Maloney, I am what you might call an old hand in this business of … shall we say, uncovering the core of personality. I know perfectly well what most journals are like. They are tentative documents at the most. Provisional. Rambling. Uncommitted to structure. I’m not, you know, such a novice as to presume exegesis. But the feebleness you suggest is attached to Mrs. Swann’s journal is surely balanced by the fact that it is, after all, a privileged communication and —

SARAH:
I would agree with you in most cases, Mr. Jimroy. (She bears down on his name with bitterness.) But this is a special case —

LANG
(stepping forward briskly, anxious to keep the proceedings genial): Awfullly sorry, ladies and gentlemen, but the time —

JIMROY:
One question, one question only. A simple yes or no will do. Do you intend, Dr. Maloney, do you intend, at any time in the future, to publish Mary Swann’s private journal?

SARAH:
Well, I —

LANG:
I’m really terribly sorry, but time —

JIMROY:
Yes or no?

SARAH:
(pausing, waving her hands weakly; her voice is unsteady, almost a whimper): No.

JIMROY:
And may I inquire (raising his voice in order to be heard)—may I inquire of our speaker why she has decided not to publish Mary Swann’s private journal?

LANG:
Lunch is now ready, ladies and gentlemen. If you will find your way to the LaSalle Room adjoining this room. I now declare this session adjourned —

JIMROY:
(over the uproar):—as to
why
Dr. Maloney has taken it on
herself
to withhold —

SARAH:
(whispering into microphone, the kind of whisper that brings instant silence): Because I can’t. (She pauses.) Because … I am unable. The jounal has been … I am sorry to have to say this … the jounal has been … lost.

CRINKLED FOREHEAD:
 … seems damned unlikely in this day and age, what with storage systems —

WIMPY GRIN
: … when you think of Willard Lang hoarding the treasure trove —

SILVER CUFFLINKS:
 … fresh salmon. I get so sick of looking at salmon, you’d think —

GREEN TWEED SUIT:
 … think Jimroy was a bit thrown off by the whole thing, first losing his briefcase and then —

ROSE:
 … was so embarrassed, I don’t know when I’ve been so —

GINGER PONYTAIL
: Frankly, the man is a tyrant, I don’t care what you say, he’s —

SILVER CUFFLINKS:
How does that line go? From “Lilacs,” starting with —

MERRY EYES:
A terrible disappointment, and I’d been counting on —

BIRDLADY:
I wonder if I could possibly have a glass of water?

WIMPY GRIN
: … hair of the dog —

GREEN TWEED SUIT:
 … the way she just stood there and took —

WATTLED GENT:
May I present Herbert Block.

BLUE-SPOTTED TIE:
 … delicious —

WIMPY GRIN
: … all owe a great deal to the Peregrine Press, you know, and you have to give Mr. Cruzzi credit —

MAN WITH OUTSIZE AFRO:
 … mostly subsidized, of course, but without regional presses —

SILVER CUFFLINKS:
 … piece of fishbone in my throat —

GINGER PONYTAIL
: … drenched with this rancid olive oil and then absolutely —

JIMROY:
We are after all a community of scholars, and —

CRINKLED FOREHEAD:
What the hell’s wrong with the word
primitive?

WATTLED GENT:
 … hasn’t found it yet, his briefcase that is, but evidently he hopes —

BIRDLADY:
 … the giggle-and-tease school of criticism —

MERRY EYES:
 … spontaneity, always say spontaneity’s just another name for shoddiness —

BIRDLADY:
 … was in Nadeau twice, I think, but there wasn’t —

SILVER CUFFLINKS:
 … the way he had her pinned there, like a butterfly —

MAN WITH OUTSIZE AFRO:
 … bastard —

CRINKLED FOREHEAD:
Would you mind if I join you?

WOMAN WITH TURBAN
(turning her attention to Wimpy Grin, seated beside her): Well, of course I’m disappointed. Waiting two years for the love poems and now —

WIMPY GRIN
: I’m more than disappointed. I’m thinking of—

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
I felt so sure the journal would serve as a kind of gloss, that is to say, enlarge the meaning of the Water Poems in particular.
WIMPY GRIN
: Yes, the Water Poems. Especially those. Not that there’s anything obscure about them.

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Obscurity’s not the point. Not at all. I’m talking about reference points. The journal would have expanded the number of reference points—and the love poems will —

WIMPY GRIN
: But at least she —

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
Who? Maloney? Or Swann?

WIMPY GRIN
: Sarah Maloney. She was very firm about that. That there was nothing in the journal of interest.

WOMAN WITH TURBAN:
And you believe that! You honestly believe that? Maybe
she
was unable to see any connections, but —

WIMPY GRIN
: Hmmmmmmm.