%ge 6-Sunday, FebruaryW, 1980-The Michigan D TeMhgaal-udyFer S S -f -w -f The Mich iga oily-Sunday, Febru+ Books Singer on love: The older the better James Dean's Gai, F Is this the end of, our he Stay tuneod, dear readers, & find otA By Jay McCormick OLD LOVE By Isaac Bashevis Singer Farrar Straus Giroux $10.95, 273 pp. T O BE MORE THAN a tiny bit silly about it, love is like a lump of plutonium. Its very presence in the world affects everyone whether or not they come into contact with it. When one finally does encounter it, the result can be either enlightening or explosive. To stretch things even further, writers have been history's radiologists digging for traces of, love, offering up new insights into it and its effects. It is a topic in which they never seem to lose interest; and as much can be said for the readers of fiction. After all, until one can no longer love how could one resist reading about it? It is tales of the love of middle aged and older people that Isaac Bashevis Singer has chosen to gather in his recent anthology of short stories, Old Love. He unearths dark corners of his characters' souls, digging out emotions they will not face up to. Some are beautiful ,, some disgusting, some nothing but surprising. So it is with Jove. He also explores the effects of people's love on others-lovers, enemies, spouses-and the reactions that rise up with and against it. Betrayal and seduction crop up in unusual settings among bizarre, mad characters, and they involve innocent bystanders until it finally becomes evident that very few are innocent at all. Singer portrays a particularly depressing and disgusting love relationship in the striking story "One Night in Brazil." An unusual, self- gratifying, self-abusing couple drag the narrator, a New York writer, into their lives, in an effort to make him serve as a catalyst for their faltering marriage. The narrator at first describes the couple with aversion, "Her breath smelled of tobacco, alcohol, and something putrid," and he keeps him- self at a distance from the action. But something clearly is awry; though he says, "I had not the slightest urge for this female," he nearly kills himself trying to make love to her. T HE IMAGERY tells half the tale. The rain forest decays and de- flesh from the face of the narrator as he tries to make love to this woman, it is evident that it is a shallow punishment compared to what he will end re for years afterwards. Such lush or otherwise rich settings consistently play major roles in these stories of love. The Jewish neigh- previous action, but because of it. The actions are casually related, even the unreasonable actions. Sometimes it is not apparent what the cause was, but the effect implies it all the same. However, faith and religion oc- casionally peek, just to refute complete rationality. Singer_ does not accept By Bodensee S TAY CALM. It is true that this is the story I promised when the coast was last clear, but it's one you've all heard. I can't be held responsible, should some of you find yourselves in the lines to come., Singer sculpts from the base material of absurd pain and foibles real people-he immerses us in the souls of imbeciles and wise men and women. M AP AAJ 6DL FtLLE COMPLfEX . stroys as fast as it grows, and this Jay Mc~2ormick is a Daily Assist- couple suffer only the first half of the ant Night Editor, process. When mosquitoes tear the borhoods of towns in Poland and Russia have a different aura than those in Tel Aviv or New York. Each of these set- ti ngs provides enough material for countless kinds of stories. The wealthy, and poor may live only a few yards from each other, but the important material objects-the markets, streets, synagogues-differ greatly. Yet what truly makes these stories living, breathing things is the charac- ters. Singer sculpts from the base material of absurd pain and foibles real people-he immerses us in the souls of imbeciles and wise men and women. We surface, affected in one way or another, refreshed, purged of our own emotions, or enlightened. In "Yochna-and Shmelke" Singer tells the tale of a simple, young Jewish girl whose whole reason for living is to marry and care for a husband. Many would ridicule such an attitude, but Singer reveals the inert, strange beauty of her values and successes. The "old love" here, between two teenagers, is traditional love. Yochna carries on tradition against the elements and fate. She becomes accepted by her peer because of her success, and she becomes successful because of her unified life, her single goal'. That her life begins in dissonance and resolves to harmony is a tribute to her simpleness, religion as a perfect answer, either. It often oversteps its bounds, and he shows that a balance between reason and religion must be established in or- der for the thinking human to survive. All this directly influences the love men and women feel for each other. "The Boy Knows the Truth" tells of a Rabbi torn by great passions. His faith in the strict teachings of the Torah and The end came as I finished Junior High. Lying there under the principal's desk- I realized that The U.S. Treasury Dept. had no intention of returning to the gold standard, that I had played the fool yet again., The realization was brutal. I was to spend my entire high school career undergoing therapy to correct my delusion that I was a building. Long nights spent waiting for the night crew to come and sweep out my floors, constant pain from the lightning rods on my head, my elevators always out of order-I had all the symptoms of a classic edifice complex. I still remem- ber the laughter, so relentless that I had to take down the building directory in my lobby for good. I guess you know the rest. The point is that I left high school almost completely cured. Only a quiet voice in the back of my mind remains, suggesting that I might be distantly related to a mobile home. The years I had spent so under-insured had not been wasted. My mor- tgage paid off, I began my quest for the truth. To better define the object of my search, I pondered the answers I already had: --Germany, Italy, and Japan -18 or older -Charles I - Yes -Juneau -The '27 Yankees How did it all tie together? Where could I find a clue'? I checked behind our furniture and my aunt, went through my pockets a dozen times, and began to under- stand the frustration of philosophical inquiry. Weeks later, as I was unraveling some batteries, my parents suggested that I leave the country. They could see that my work in America was finished, that I was no or- dinary man; destiny called me to Europe, and my mother and father had put their faith in my intellect. I'll never forget the peace on my father's face as he drove me to the bus station. THE uALT, PMA1e r l - -w. . (gm 1 V 1 ....I "'. The road to Bodensee was a long one, with merciless temptations to step to the side. But I was determined and would not stray from the center. Dodging cars became so exhausting that I was forced to leave my box of records behind, and taunts from angry motorists-they could not understand-startled me so that I finally lost control of my kite. I took this as a sign that. I needed a new direction, that the unifying factor behind my present set of answers was unat- tainable, and resolved to ask different questions. As a sign of approval from the ancient philosophers who guided my consciousness, I was hit by a poultry truck. It was then that I knew the pain involved in humanity's search for the ultimate reality.' S Pe.F 0OA#VY 'ro 04Y SUL.P as+rt ". me .*. ".."+m", r The weeks of traction in the Krankenhaus afforded me an occasional opportunity for deep contemplation. Here I was in a land that only its citizens could call home. As insight built upon itself, I realized that it was imperative that I be misunderstood, and accordingly spoke only to myself, in code. To further convey the inaccessibility of my understanding, I began to laugh out loud randomly, until it was obvious to everyone that only I could see the tragicomic irony of humanity's lot. What did I know? they wondered. My very presen- ce was thought-provoking, and the injections became more frequent. With the primal screams came the results I had long awaited: I was recognized as a true genius, the beatings stopped, and my belongings were confiscated. Iwas RCCc,(,17*AOs A &EN u.S A T LAST I could begin my writings. As I began cutting out letters, the index card bearing my old set of answers fell from the watch pocket of a faded pair of knickers I'd had blocked. Sadly, all the crayon was smeared, denying me the fruits of my past labors. My frustration brought to mind those oft-quoted words of Bill Freehan, former Tiger poet-catcher, from his masterpiece, Behind the Mask: "Denny even flew his own plane to the games. " If Denny could fly to the games, why couldn't I? Why was I always picked last? It seemed as though I would be defeated by my own frustration, and oh how I fought bitterly to free myself from it. The following Wednesday, while Dr. Tom was rebuilding the railing along my wall, my glance became unexplainably fixed upon the identification number stamped on my smock. Days later, I looked up suddenly. Of course! D-27! Life, as we know it, is numerical! I had uncovered the ultimate relationship of all things (or at least a great many things), and began to build on it. The eventual realization that there are 27 innings in three regulation baseball games threw me into a fit of philosophical ec- stasy. When the injection wore off, I awoke and was star- tled to find that my room had mysteriously been ran- sacked. I had been robbed, obviously by agents of the Treasury Department who recognized the power of my revelation. My belt, necktie, shoelaces, headband, and canteen were gone. They had hidden my glasses, defaced my aluminum siding, and tied my wrists to the headboard. The fools! They had so feared my escape that they had left my dissertaton on the vaporizer, un- touched, the rubber cement not yet dry. Time was run- ning out, and I could trust no one. Even Dr. Tom was in on it. I knew that drastic measures had to be taken. For the next few days, I feign time would lull them into a s would be taken from the pala hospital, from which it would Yet, I had underestimated th apparently seen ,through myi wait no longer. I masquerade tray and was wheeled to the kit I realize now that those day were the most important of m tions, I was free to let my mm( my basic argument to its logi pletely stand . .. understand1 people need a room without so a minimum of air-holes. I had s the practical and the aesthetic was done, and I stepped fromr toaster. / Couc.CwPAr Rl' Ironically, the toaster had n terweighted and as I fell my shi in the aluminum-foil dispense swing in a rapidly acceleratin myself in a bizarre observation except for the brainwashing ico disguised as circus animals. couldn't risk writing. With log tempered steel, I began to orc my head,,without moving my i1 Though the time had come in recognize the pointlessness of th so would have broken the back o voices I heard as they gathered at night. I could not make su Tom, for I had been chosen1 swung open. Life as we know it]1 The rest is by now a legend. premedical studies at the Un Ocean, I met the lady who was1 commonly beautiful in that her devoted to conference rooms. Now, of course. I'm in the thic pshire primary bustle. Campail have me bound and gagged in a the other candidates a fightir though, I'm still leading in all t my own personal poll), by a fa billion. If nominated, I will~not p~ will not strut. Bodensee is a student uni ausimpleness not at all equivalent to the Talmud almost destroy him. He stupidness. comes to believe that he killed his wife, or at least pushed her other foot into the cINGER GENERALLY heartily' grave because he yelled angrily at her S develops more than just the~ main just before she died. His anger derived character. He is not satisfied with flat from his passion for women, a passion personalities, and avoids giving a he constantly worries about and character a trait which is not explored punishes himself for. When she dies, he or explained during the story., isolates himself, passing his duties on to The last story of the collection plays his unsuitable son. The Rabbi is saved forth Singer's virtuoso handling of by wisdom "outbf the mouth of babes." characters to the utmost. In "The #Bus"' He accepts this for no rational reason, the narrator becomes involved with nor for a particularly religious reason. four fellow travellers, two couples who He makes a sort of great leap of faith grab hold of him in a manner similar to back into existence. The irrational has the crazed couple in "One Day in- its place, and can be powerfully useful Brazil." Singer manages to make even on occasion. The Rabbi can once again the most objectionable personalities practice his love for his fellow man. understandable in this story. All sorts of love, and its ways and The relationship between a mother- means are explored in Old Love. The and her dominant genius son, and bet- lesson? Only that there are no lessons, ween a Swiss banker and his tortured that no generalizations can or should be neurotic wife are fascinating precisely made about such- an emotion. Isaac because Singer peels away the outer - Ba'shevis Singer tells stories disar- layers of his individuals in his typically mingly well. Who would expect such superb manner-.slowly and com- truth in such enjoyable and-exciting pletely. Each character's actions arise tales? not as a sequence with his -or- her - :B,-Singer would. r WARDEN .iN "-NO rtaeLLE To ESCAE. Singer .. ,' *. .,P ,- v. e ' - }9