Page 8-Sunday, October 2, 1977-The Michigan Daily
brisdge
(Continued from Page 6)
That Steve thinks he's so clever,
Mark thought. He's always playing me
for the fool, and tricking me into giving
Kim an overtrick. But his time it won't
work. He tried this play on me just a
few weeks ago, and he probably thinks I
don't remember. But I do remember. I
remember that hand just as if I were
playing it now .. .
And as he thought, the story of the
previous hand unfolded in his mind.
... It's really incredible that the two
'hands can be so similar, Mark thought.
My cards and dummy's cards are iden-
tical, as is the bidding and the play up to
the fifth trick.
North
SAQx
HQJxx
Dxxx
CAKx
West East(Mark)
SJ0xxxx SKxx
H Hxx
Dxx DK J10xxx
CQJ10xx Cxx
South(Steve)
Sx
H A K 10 x x x x
DAQ
Cxxx
Yes, Steve certainly snookered me on
that hand. When he led that small spade
from dummy, after cashing the ace, I
was so excited about defeating Steve in
a slam, that I played my spade king,
without even thinking. Steve trumped,
returned to the board with the club
king, and pitched his losing club on the
now good queen of spades. I can hear
partner's voice now, "Didn't you know
his spade was a singleton? Didn't he
cue-bid 3 spades? Why do you think he
bid spades, for his health? Anyone
knows that bid shows a singleton or void
in spades." And it went on and on: But
partner was right. I could have beaten
the cgntract and I flubbed it. But I
vowed revenge, and now I would get
my chance ...
M ARK WAS alert and confident, as
he picked his cards up off the
table, and detached a card from his
hand.
"Thank you for being so patient," he
said. "I had to work out Steve's hand
before playing to this trick. Sorry I took
so long."
And with that he played a small
spade, and leaned back in his chair
sporting the smile of a man who has
just mtde a brilliant play to defeat a
grand slam. But that smile soon faded,
as Steve won the trick with his spade
jack and claimed the remainder. These
were the four hands:
North
SAQx
HQJxx
Dxxx
CAKx
West East
Sioxxxx SKxx
H Hxx
Dxx DKJ0xxx
CQJ1oxxx Cxx
South
SJx -
H A K 10 x x x x
DAQ
Cxx
"0 H, MY FRIEND, you have no
idea how perfectly you played
your part," Steve said to the still pale
Mark. "As soon as I picked up my
cards, I recognized that they were un-
believably similar to those I held again-
st you a few weeks ago. And when you
opened the bidding with 2 diamonds, I
had a feeling your hand would be nearly
identical to that previous one, also. Af-
ter my-partner bid 3 diamonds, just as
he did in the original auction, I decided
to make a deceptive bid of 3 spades,
even though I had a doubleton. When
Bruce led the club queen, it was clear
the king of spades had to lie in your
hand, and that I was destined to be
down 1. But then, I remembered how I
had played original hand and how you
had vowed revenge, and I saw a way
out.
.A
N
'l
N A
Jones
(Continued from Page 7)
that once Joseph got his hands on a
gun he would put the whole lot of
them out of their neurotic misery.
Still other grim portraits of irra-
tional and crazy people falter
through --themes that are simply
stale. Though stylistically clean, both
"Asylum" and "Coke Factory" con-
tribute no new insights to the
stream-of consciousness-of-the-very
insane genre.
What is delightful about Jones'
writing is her diction and carefully
chosen syntax, but when she falls
back on more traditional prose to tell
her stories, they tend to suffer. The
fairly straightforward telling of, for
example, "Persona" and a "Quiet
Place For. The Summer," takes a
great edge off these stories. They
seem to lack the author's trenchant
style, and at that point it becomes
hard to believe that she even wrote
them.
Yet though her insight and skill
presently find their best expression
in ethnic themes, Gayl Jones should
not be, and is not, confined to writing
about blacks. Her willingness to
experiment with other narrative
tones and subjects makes one hope
that future works will show her to be
a more skillful artist in other idioms,
bringing to traditional prose style her
own interpretation of its language.
film
(Continued from Page 6)
tionally creative acting gift; 3) good
roles. Although no one can guarantee
the last ingredient, an individual who
posseses the first two is an almost sure
bet as a performing magnet.
Only this combination doesn't occur
very often. Dean certainly had it, but
his career spanned all of three films..
And no one has really filled the void he
left. Brando eccentrically squanders
his talents; DeNiro is erratic-
sometimes a human dynamo,
sometimes leaving no impression
whatsoever; Vanessa Redgrave or
Jane Fonda could have made it, but
both became so beleagured by political
causes that their dramatic careers fell
into eclipse.
ET THIS YEAR has brought the
debut of an actress named Kath-
leen Quinlan. Already she has a year's
edge on Dean (who was 23 at the start of
his one-year filmmaking career), and
also seems to possess that same absor-
bing audience effect. Her portrayal of
the schizophrenic, fantasy-dwelling
Deborah Blake of I Never Promised
You a Rose Garden succeeded
hemingwal
(Continued from Page 3)
visit, if they knew Papa, to recall the
house's festive days. And those who
didn't know him pretend.
Fifty years have evaporated since the
bookstore owner's first meeting with
the book writer, and Valladares says he
refuses to pay the entrance fee to visit
the house he once entered at will.
The hands that carried papers to
Papa on Whitehead Street are now
knarled and tougher than they were
back then. And the magazines they
stack in the corner bookstore weren't
around when Hemingway ordered that
first shipment of books.
A sign on the bookstore distinguishes
the establishment as "The oldest
newsstand in Key West," but the
alone-absolutely alone-in making an
otherwise almost unwatchable film
tolerable.
By itself, Rose Garden is loathsome:
all the standard nuthouse chiches come
trooping garishly out of the woodwork
and the straight-jackets, yet Quinlan
performs on a different plane. While the
collected asylyum cast conjures up
gross, insulting caricatures, Quinlan
makes you genuinely feel the terror, the
anguished longings, and most of all the
absolute loneliness universally ex-
perienced by the emotionally troubled.
Rose Garden is a wretched film, yet
I've seen it twice already, and will
doubtless go see it again. For the first
time since my discovery of Dean, I
could look at a film and exhault in the
revelation: "She understands,, she
knows!"
I am, of course, in love with Kathleen
Quinlan. I will shortly attempt to get a
phone interview with her, then perhaps
a person-to-person meeting, then
maybe...
Star worship will never die. It's a
religion, really, and my faith has been
rekindled. I trust the same may hap-
pen, at some point in space and time,
for every one of us.
proprietor says he doesn't read much
any more. "I pick up a book at night
and read two, three pages and I get
tired and fall asleep."
But even if he had the stamina,
Valladares says he doesn't have much
of a desire to read. Papa is his favorite
author, and he finished reading
everything Hemingway wrote a long
time ago.
"-These other writers, they're good
but they're not like Ernest," Valladares
says. "This boy, Tennessee, Williams,
he has some very good books. And Ed-
ward Aarons from Key West, he's good,
too. But Ernest..." Valladares fingers
a copy of The Snows of Kilimanjaro and
looks at the small portrait of
Hemingway printed on the back cover:
"Ernest had better flavor."
Roth
(Continued from Page 7)
marry Helen Baird - after, that is,
nearly three full years devoted to
doubting - hoping - wanting - and
- fearing. There are some, like my
own father, who have only to see a
woman standing over a piano singing
'Amapola' to decide in a flash, 'There
- there is my wife,' and there are
others who sigh' 'Yes, it is she,' only
after an interminable drama of
vacillation that has led them to the
ineluctable conclusion that they
ought never to see the woman again.
I marry Helen when the weight of
experience required to reach the.
monumental decision to give her up
for good turns out to be so enormous
and so moving that I cannot possibly
imagine living without her. Only
when I finally know for sure that this
must end now, did I discover how
deeply wed _I already am by my
thousand. days of indecision, by all
the scrutinizing appraisal of possibil.
ities that has somehow made an
affair of three years' duration seem
as dense with human event as a
marriage half a century long."
* * *
Although he nodoubt never could
have imagined a novel such as The
Professor of Desire, it is that stodgy
grand old man of American letters,
Henry James, who best explains why
Roth's novel is on balance a success,
and why it must be considered on its
own terms, the sheer virtuosity of the
prose.
Writing in an 1884 essay, The Art of
Fiction, James Wrote: "Oh, I grant
you your starting-point, because if I
did not I should seem to prescribe to
you, and heaven forbid I should take
that responsibility. If I pretend to tell
you what you must not take, you will
call on me to tell you then what you
must take; in which case I shall be
prettily caught. Moreover, it isn't till
I have accepted your data that I can
begin to measure you. I have the
standard, the pitch; Ihave no right to
tamper with your flute and then
criticize your music."
James is only partially correct; no
treatment, no matter how brilliant,
transcends ultimately trivial mater-
ial. Roth's work reveals no axiom of
human behavior; lie reaches no new
conclusions about human happiness
and erotic experience. But the plea-
sure in The Professor of Desire is in
getting there; unlike some of his
more recent works this is a master-
piece of prose, not a chore to finish.
4
SSusan Ades Jay Levin
Co-editors
Elaine Fletcher Tom O'Connell
Associate Editors
Brian Blanchard
Eileen Daley ,.
Julie Rovner
Sue Warner
Copy Editors
Cover Photo of Ringling Brothers clown
Dave Carlyon by Andy Freeberg.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::4::::::::::::::::.::::::::::::::.:.::::::5::::::: :3 :'2::3 9
inside:
Hemingway's
paperboy'
remembers
Film: The
anatomy of
charisma
Books: R
latest no
of desire
Supplement to The Michigan Daily
Ann Arbor, Michigan-Sunday, October 2, 1977