A New Life (35 page)
Authors: Bernard Malamud
“I might,” said Gerald, reaching for a ruler on the desk and absently measuring his hand. Glancing up, he said, “I may not be for that kind of list, Sy, but I’ll tell you this. I frankly don’t see anything wrong with anybody wanting to look out for the boys on our teams. They have their place in college as well as anybody else. You know what the Greeks said about physical fitness and the well-rounded man. Athletes set certain standards of perfection which is part of your liberal education. Sports mold character. Besides that, practically speaking these boys bring us a lot of exciting games and keep the town interested and grateful to the college. It builds good will all over the state and even intersectionally in some of the bigger games. You could say they’re really playing for America. People appreciate that and are solidly behind our sports programs, even in the public schools. Just between us, one of the
Easchester school board members personally told me that if it came to a choice between funds for a further developed high school athletics program, or none for kindergartens, he’d vote to abolish the kindergartens. I say this not because I necessarily agree with him—Erik will be ready for kindergarten in ’53–but you ought to know what people think. A lot of them in Cascadia give very loyal support to the state colleges because of our teams, and that’s mighty important when it comes to funds for new buildings and raises for us all. Don’t kid yourself that spectator interest in athletics doesn’t influence legislators. The fact of it is that our athletes do a lot for all of us and we ought to admit it and be thankful. I know George tries to assist those who need some help here and there, but in case you don’t know it he has more than once been personally thanked by President Labhart. And I suppose you know how fond of him Orville is?”
Easchester school board members personally told me that if it came to a choice between funds for a further developed high school athletics program, or none for kindergartens, he’d vote to abolish the kindergartens. I say this not because I necessarily agree with him—Erik will be ready for kindergarten in ’53–but you ought to know what people think. A lot of them in Cascadia give very loyal support to the state colleges because of our teams, and that’s mighty important when it comes to funds for new buildings and raises for us all. Don’t kid yourself that spectator interest in athletics doesn’t influence legislators. The fact of it is that our athletes do a lot for all of us and we ought to admit it and be thankful. I know George tries to assist those who need some help here and there, but in case you don’t know it he has more than once been personally thanked by President Labhart. And I suppose you know how fond of him Orville is?”
Levin slowly fanned his face with his hand.
“Let’
s
face the facts,” Gilley said. “People
should
be doing things for these boys who break their backs for Cascadia. Sure, most of them have their athletic scholarships for which they have to put in seventy hours a month in the off seasons, but just how far do you think eighty bucks a month goes in these times? And keep this in mind, Sy. The boys on the football squad are out on the field sometimes while you and I are snug in bed, practicing in every kind of dirty weather. They get hit hard, often landing in the mud under a ton of beef. And if they break an arm or leg, or something a lot worse, you never hear them complaining. Spring practice is already on. And when the boys get back in the fall, a whole month before everybody else, they’ll be at it day after day until the season ends. By nightfall they barely have the strength to get their clothes off and hit the sack, yet there are plenty of them who keep up good grades. We need people to help them pick courses and advise them generally. Please note no one is asking you to do it.”
s
face the facts,” Gilley said. “People
should
be doing things for these boys who break their backs for Cascadia. Sure, most of them have their athletic scholarships for which they have to put in seventy hours a month in the off seasons, but just how far do you think eighty bucks a month goes in these times? And keep this in mind, Sy. The boys on the football squad are out on the field sometimes while you and I are snug in bed, practicing in every kind of dirty weather. They get hit hard, often landing in the mud under a ton of beef. And if they break an arm or leg, or something a lot worse, you never hear them complaining. Spring practice is already on. And when the boys get back in the fall, a whole month before everybody else, they’ll be at it day after day until the season ends. By nightfall they barely have the strength to get their clothes off and hit the sack, yet there are plenty of them who keep up good grades. We need people to help them pick courses and advise them generally. Please note no one is asking you to do it.”
“
I’m not belittling
what they do,” Levin said, “only that we
think they have to do it.” He brought up the list again. “Wouldn’t you say it was an unethical business?”
I’m not belittling
what they do,” Levin said, “only that we
think they have to do it.” He brought up the list again. “Wouldn’t you say it was an unethical business?”
“Whose list is it?”
“Well,” said Levin, “I’ll tell you off the record, although we both know whose it is.”
“Then what’s the sense of talking about it? Unofficially I can’t do anything.”
“Not even talk to him?”
“I might do that.”
“Tell him to cut it out,” said Levin.
Gilley laid down his ruler. “Which brings me back to the original question I asked you before.” He did not repeat it.
“I’m thinking of supporting CD,” Levin said.
Gilley’s expression was momentarily blank; he then shot Levin a look of genuine hatred. The instructor’s scalp crawled yet by an act of will he kept himself seated. Gerald hadn’t know he was supporting Fabrikant. Avis had probably kept her mouth shut, possibly fearing that if he confronted Levin with previous knowledge of his vote the instructor might say who had told him about the picture; but now Gerald knew and apparently couldn’t believe that somebody he thought was in the bag, wasn’t.
It then occurred to Levin he had done a foolish thing in saying who he was voting for. He ought to have answered, “Yes, I’ve made up my mind,” and then mum, or just the simple statement that he would not reveal his vote. Gilley would have said no more than he hoped Levin would support him. That would have kept peace between them until the school year ended. Next year was next year.
I told him because of all I haven’t told him, Levin thought.
Gilley said bitterly, “I assume that’s in the nature of thanks for all I’ve done for you.”
Levin, shoulders hunched, waited for a thunderous revelation of Gilley’s service, gift, sacrifice—a statement that would unstitch his skull and destroy him.
“I got you this job—I gave you your office and other privileges—”
“You did more than that—” Levin’s voice cracked. He bit his compulsive tongue.
Gerald stirred. “Fabrikant,” he muttered. “What makes you think he’s such a hot bargain? He doesn’t know beans about administering any department, and he can’t meet people. A fine mess of public relations he’d make. In no time he’d have us in a snafu so thick it’d take an act of Congress to unravel it.”
“He wouldn’t have sacrificed the anthology.”
“God damn it,” Gilley said, “I had Orville on my back on that. If I had been my own boss I’d’ve had a committee consider it.”
“Committees can be cowards—”
“Who are you calling coward?” Gerald glowered.
“Excuse me,” Levin said. “All I meant is that one determined man could have saved that book.”
“You know,” said Gilley, “I’m beginning to think you consider yourself some sort of fount of wisdom put on earth to tell us how to run our affairs. The next thing, you’ll be advising the prexy to step aside so you can take over and run the college.”
“Oh no,” said Levin, perspiring under his clothes. “And don’t think I don’t appreciate your good qualities, Gerald—I do. But these are dangerous times, and since education is so important this college has to be more effective—”
“Who says we’re not effective?”
“
More
effective.”
More
effective.”
“In the first place, this isn’t Harvard, you know. There are thousands of places just like us. In the second, I already told you I expected to make changes in the department once I was in a position to.”
“We’d need more than those changes,” Levin said.
Gilley glared at him for a tense minute, and Levin looked around to see where the door was, but the director of composition sat back, shaking his head.
“You have a rare nerve to criticize, with no experience to speak of to back it up. You haven’t even taught a full year in a college. How knowledgeable do you think you are, for instance? How much have you studied our practical problems—the budget, our mode of operation, the philosophy of the land-grant colleges, et cetera? Until you do, what’s your big hurry to give out advice about changes
you
think we ought to make? Those of us with experience, who have faced problems of administration, know what we have to do and how much we can sensibly accomplish in any given time. I’ve told you more than once Cascadia is a conservative state. One thing you so-called liberals can’t get into your heads is we
want
it that way. Also remember taxes are way too high. Rural people tend to be frugal and the state legislature is a rural power. We can do what they want us to do. If you don’t start with that premise you are off-balance to begin with.”
you
think we ought to make? Those of us with experience, who have faced problems of administration, know what we have to do and how much we can sensibly accomplish in any given time. I’ve told you more than once Cascadia is a conservative state. One thing you so-called liberals can’t get into your heads is we
want
it that way. Also remember taxes are way too high. Rural people tend to be frugal and the state legislature is a rural power. We can do what they want us to do. If you don’t start with that premise you are off-balance to begin with.”
“New ideas cost nothing,” said Levin. “Some things are easy to change. And sometimes the college has to lead the community.”
“What do you think is so wrong with English?”
“With reference to composition, if you’ll pardon my saying so, the course is half dead. We have to get rid of
The Elements
and those damn workbooks. We have to abolish the d.o. because everyone’s teaching for it and not beyond it. And we ought to introduce some literature into the course so the students know that good writing means something more than good report writing.”
The Elements
and those damn workbooks. We have to abolish the d.o. because everyone’s teaching for it and not beyond it. And we ought to introduce some literature into the course so the students know that good writing means something more than good report writing.”
“We have all the lit courses we need. Composition is writing, not studying the forms of literature.”
“Just enough lit for inspiration, to liven it up, to ease the heart.”
“We’re not teaching comp for the sake of the instructor, I’ll tell you that.”
“Nor for the students, if you ask me. If we were we’d be giving a full liberal arts and science program along with the other stuff.”
“If you know anything about educational trends you’d know that pure liberal arts programs are dying out all over the country.”
“In that case we may die with them.”
“What do you expect me to do?” Gilley then asked. “You know darn well I can’t arrange the kind of program you want, all by myself. What about Dr. Labhart? I have heard him say that Plato, Shelley, and Emerson have done more harm than good to society.”
“God save us all!”
“Don’t underrate him. This place has just about doubled in size and scope during his tenure. He’s a first-rate organizer. As a student he paid his way through graduate school by founding and running a successful used-car business that his brother still carries on in Boise.”
Levin sighed.
“You know,” Gilley said with renewed anger, “one thing I have never liked about you is the way you look around with an eye that says ‘I’ve seen better.’ If you took the trouble to check into figures you’d find that our kids on the average get more education per person than yours in the East. And we send a larger percentage to college than you do. Our literacy rate is one of the highest of all the states. I didn’t expect you to know that because you have the New Yorker’s usual cockeyed view of the rest of the country. You are still an outsider looking in.”
“I don’t feel like an outsider.”
“That has nothing to do with it. It’s how you act here that counts.”
Pushing back his chair, Gerald strode over to his long closet and pulled out a fishing rod, assembled and ready to strike. “This is a spinning rod,” he said. “Do you know it from a fly fishing rod or an African spear? This is the reel, the line—monofilament, eight pound test which I use for steelhead—dropline, lure. I bet you thought we use worms.”
Levin admitted it.
“You’ve been here for almost a year and have never once, so far as I know, gone fishing. If you did that now and then and a few other things I might mention you wouldn’t be so dissatisfied. I’ll bet you’d be less impatient with your students and colleagues. I personally don’t think you enjoy your life, or you wouldn’t have that pain-in-the-gut look you have gone around with in the past weeks. If you don’t watch out you’ll wind up with high blood pressure and will someday keel over while tying your shoelaces. You ought to get out into the open and tone up your muscles. We have some of the best fishing streams in the world in Cascadia. Ernest Hemingway has fished here. How will you ever teach Thoreau, once you have your Ph.D., without ever in your life having been to a wild place?—”
“I’ve been to Walden Pond—” Levin said.
“God knows I’m not against books,” Gilley said, “but I’m against only books.”
“I too,” said Levin.
Gerald raised his rod and flipped it as if casting. “I don’t think you can imagine what it means to wade into a swift icy mountain stream—”
“I can imagine—”
Gilley moved into the cold, fast flowing stream.
“The fisherman estimates the pull of the current from the froth on the water so he knows how deep he can go in without being knocked over and carried away. One wrong step could mean his life. He’s got to be mighty careful with his footing when he jumps from one slippery scum-covered rock to another.”
He raised his foot, jumped, and made it.
Bravo, thought Levin.
“Now he’s in the water up to his chest,” Gerald said, extending the rod over the desk, “his arms moving rhythmically as he searches the stream for a fish, pitting his sportsman’s knowledge against the instinctive wisdom of the species. This is contentment, this is the good life.”
Levin pictured himself in cold water up to his heart (ah the balm of it) enjoying the good life.
“Half the fun is knowing what to do,” Gerald went on,
“when to fish upstream, when down. He knows just where to drop the lure—or dry fly if he’s a real afficionado—a steelhead coming up to a floating fly is a thrill he never forgets. He knows how far to wade in after a struck fish before he’s close enough to land it. And when he does that’s perfection. And even if you don’t catch a single one, you are a better man for the day’s work.”
“All my life I’ve wanted to fish—”
“You have seen almost nothing of this country. In the winter and spring vacations you stayed home. What the hell did you buy a car for?”
“I drive into the country,” Levin said. “This spring I saw Scotch brume for the first time in my life, pure gold in the fields—marvelous. In the sky the drama of the clouds never ends—”
“I’m not talking about what you can see in the city parks,” Gerald said. “I’m talking about
nature.
I mean
live
in it. Camp
alone
in it. I mean
climb
a real mountain. Then you’d know what this country means. And the same holds true for Cascadia College. After you’ve been here five years you can think about reforming us.”
nature.
I mean
live
in it. Camp
alone
in it. I mean
climb
a real mountain. Then you’d know what this country means. And the same holds true for Cascadia College. After you’ve been here five years you can think about reforming us.”
Other books
The Valentine Star by Patricia Reilly Giff
Fourth Down and Dirty: A Bad Boy Sports Romance by Kristen Flowers
The Opening Sky by Joan Thomas
¿Por qué leer los clásicos? by Italo Calvino
Eleven Hours by Paullina Simons
Stealing Freedom by Elisa Carbone
The Last Man by Vince Flynn
The Zimmer Doctrine (Corps Justice Book 11) by Cooper, C. G.
Taunt by Claire Farrell
Hallsfoot's Battle by Anne Brooke
