Collected Stories, Volume 3: The Facts of Life, Stories 1940-1949
Paul Goodman
Language: English
Pages: 331
ISBN: 2:00322650
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
godine.com quote: In these stories and sketches, written when he was undergoing rigorous Reichian psychoanalysis and establishing himself as a young man of letters in Greenwich Village, the mature Goodman begins to emerge—here, at last, is the storyteller as critic of society, the first-person essayist as pilgrim of the soul. Plot, character, and setting now become secondary to the narrator’s criticism of American life and insights into personal psychology—this is fiction as the record of an inward search toward hard-won self-understanding. In these stories, writes Stoehr, “Goodman found a new way to cope with the old problem of alienation, of the relations of the ego to the soul and to the world: accept the world, in which natural powers and beautiful human virtues do exist (no matter what other intellectuals think); accept the ego as that part of the self which makes daring formulations about the world; accept the soul, from whose depths come song.”
my scan at 300 dpi, OCR'd and bookmarked
in past me-l mean, an empty space charged with Mana." If I were a sculptor, I should walk along these great rocks and-sneaking up with iron control of my perception to keep it from correcting itself-I'd fix forever in isolation that posture of the rock that made me think it was a person. And if the shore were strewn with these statues! there would be a museum of my nightmares like that fixed for the nightmares of all mankind on the hillside of Easter Island. The Nurse's naive, most naive, plan
cried Mrs. Clyde, who had casually met him in Berlin and of course did not recognize him, but she had arranged the surprise of the evening. "Shh!" said Niko warningly; he grasped the situation in a flash. "We mustn't wake him up-the shock, the pleasure, the heart-How are you?" he said warmly to Max, shaking his hand. "Mter so many evasions, we must avoid a malchance," said Monsieur. "How did you hurt your arm?" asked Didi. Jarno took command. "Let Max wait inside. His wife will wake him. Then we
62 The University in Exile school. We hear the jokes of Mr. Kaplan; and his brother, the itinerant jewler, arrives with his arm in a plaster cast! Mr. Meyer Kaplan, mind you, is now asleep in the company. And our little Niko, the same, declares: 'the shock, the pleasure, the heart' !-this I shall never forget as long as I live." But M. Chapelain, who was still entranced by the promissory hexameter, said: "Ne pleurs pas, Emma--don't cry, Emma. It is true that now we have come to spend the
do they call you~" "McDougal." "I mean your first name, sailor," says Harry with asperity at last. How vivid are at least the blue and white uniforms etc.! What can infuse a little comfort into this wan atmosphere? This sailor doesn't return the pressure of Harry's hand; but Harry patiently lets his hand rest on Mickey's knee. Tho it's midsummer, Mickey is wearing his blues because he's too lazy to launder his whites and they won't let him off the ship dirty; he is hiding his dirty Bob Evans
Intervention 3ยท His sore eyes covered with a gritty dust the flirtatious smiles and the flowers of the field. This dust lies there opaque between the eyes and their objects, intervening, rescuing us from the vividness of what is meant. Little Bert's forearm was as if breaking with fatigue as he masturbated, offering himself the day's images unmeant. They made threats about his naughtiness, but he willed not to take them seriously. He wailed at midnight, just to make it impossible for the others