The State News Bi-weekly Magazine Wednesday, May 29, 1968 Collage honors award-winning essays, poetry and fiction in this special issue, Photo by Bob Ivins 2 Michigan State News, East Lansing, Michigan Making By JEFF JUSTIN things are here-night advancing through the waves side William Skocpol's exploration of prim¬ The rise of culture at MSU. In this final is¬ midwestern states. Clark service stations. itive cultures. These are all exciting essays, "Prosaic" is our word for dull and uninteres¬ characterized by a lot of fresh insights rather sue of Callage we are presenting examples of than the meticulous and detailed writing of student criticism and art. works which leave ting. The action of this poem makes such a the dry, "textbook" approach to writing be¬ prosaic thing as a gas station a part of poetry, professional journals." hind, works whose writing is charged with a real thing deeply, emotionally seen and Fresh insights. An essay that's a work of the life they focus on, works to transmit that thus deeply and emotionally enjoyed. art. Works of art themselves-powerful poems life. The poem forces Me prosaic into the power¬ and stories. The competitions described in ful, even the most ^miliar of the apparatus this article are recent developments, along This kind of writing, in the magnitude we of our daily lives. Conversely, the strange, with a profusion of "coffee houses" on cam¬ have seen it this year as compared with past the unfamiliar can be brought near, as in pus, the ascendecy of the Folklore Society, year, constitutes a rise in culture at this Uni¬ Joe Dionne's poem Ankara and Other Places. Zeitgeist, the Red Cedar Review. The 8-year- versity. Culture is here defined as the deep¬ winner of second prize. In the eastern world old Performing Arts Company was one of he shows us, the reader amazingly orients the first organizations to draw upon the rise ening of the faculty of enjoying the artistic and critical appraisal of living. This, in con¬ him self to his own family. of culture at this University-culture defined trast to rattling off slides before a sleepy as enjoyment of art and ideas. Collage is Humanities section. In contrast to the dull $350 in prizes were distributed to the win¬ glad to be a part of the cultural growth that dissection of Paradise Lost for a term paper. ners of this contest. In the contest of another has proliferated so much this year. Both events have the potential to be another literary form, the essay, the Department of level in the rise of culture or a static waste Humanities gave $175 in its first competition, of academic time. Which potential is real¬ destined to be an annual event ized depends on the development of one's fac¬ The first place essay by Richard Thomas, ulty of enjoyment, one's ability of to feel printed in this issue of Collage, affirmed the "pleasure regarded as the aualitv of the contention of Maurice Crane, professor of thing," as in Santayana'sdefinition of beauty. Humanities and chairman of the judging com¬ 8 TABLE OF CONTENTS 8 The fiction and poetry we are presenting as mittee, that the critical essay is not produced the winners of the creative writing contest by a mechanical science of writing but by an O Making Waves in Culture . . page 2 Q sponsored by Phi Eta Sigma and Alpha organic art. "Culture is not a spectator sport," Lambda Delta, freshman scholastic hon- he said. "The essayist is like the actor, who oraries, illustrate the validity of this defini¬ is saying 'Look at what is inherent in this B Autumn in May page 2 S tion as constituting high-water marks in the work of art.' He opens up for us a perception that we didn't have before, and this is a rising tide of culture. The wave of which these works form the crest was a substantial function of art." Crane finds Thomas' es¬ X 8 Touching manity the Pulse of Hu- page 3 jj8 one. Some 600 poems and 50 stories were sub¬ say an example of the high level of culture mitted in the contest-far higher numbers at MSU. "It's as good as any scholarly es¬ this Uni¬ say I have read in the field," he said. than in any previous competition at Another entry into the field of scholarship O It Happens Every Fall . . . page 4 8 versity. on the part of students takes place in the Qualitatively, there was real strength be¬ hind this wave. According to Carl Hartman, publication of the second annual edition of fi The Great Ten Day Legume War of 8 associate professor of English and one of the Honors College Essays, to be published this 8 Henri Manteau page 5 9 fiction judges, the writing was characterized week. Subjects range the gamut from medie¬ val law. in the essay by Stephen Haynes, by overall strength. "In other contests there have been just one or two really good stor¬ to Carl Rollyson's comparison of Russian X Prize Wining Poetry. . page 7 & 8 X ies," he said. "Here, there are quite a num¬ and German concentration camps in the twen¬ ber of good ones." tieth century. Drawn from a competition 8 Kiddie TV—O Own 8 In reading these winning works one feels among 40 essays, the publication will be u r Very the enjoyment and pleasure that Santayana available at no cost at the Honors College of¬ 8 Trivia page 11 0 found so essential in his famous work on fices. aesthetics, The Sen»e of Beauty. It is real "We sought a broad spectrum of subjects for this second edition of the Essays, said 8 Why Is It the Way It Is? . . page 12 S enjoyment since it is found in appreciation of real things and people in the world. Take, for William Kelly, Director of the Honors Col¬ example, the first place poem, Dream lege. "Thus, we have Suzanr.e Burgoyne's contribution to Shakespeare criticism along¬ Against the City, by Mark McKeon Real Autumn for being short-lived or too esoteric cial issues, such as those devoted . . . Deep in December it's to gain campus-wide support. On to the war in Vietnam and the Black nice to remember the fire of the other hand, some are too gen¬ Revolution, exemplify this desire September that made us eral and commercial in approach to probe and discuss. mellow. Deep in December (i.e. the magazine for the extremely A steady stream into this office our hearts will remember, common man) to gain support of the of manuscripts, poetry, sketches, and follow... more scholarly readers. creative photographs, news analy¬ -"The Fantasticks" Collage is the latest literary and ses and commentary has demon¬ issue-oriented mfigazine to appear strated the importance of the con¬ Student editors, as a rule, enter at Michigan State, and it owes its tinuation and further development the autumn of their collegiate years existence primarily to the Univer¬ of a magazine of the caliber of late in May. Thus, the senior staff sity community, which saw the need Collage. For too long the talents members of Collage, although still for such a publication and made and abilities of a vast, diverse au¬ rather young on an absolute scale, significant contributions to assure dience have gone untapped and lost feel sufficiently mellowed to remi¬ its continuance. to the rest of the community. nisce and reflect on the past four Never in the history of the Uni¬ I congratulate the contributors years. versity has there been such wide¬ to Collage during the past year. I The Collage staff, cocky breed spread dissemination of student urge the continued support of the that they are, feel a certain meas¬ and faculty reporting, commentary magazine in the future for I sus¬ ure of pride as they view the past and artistic creation. Seldom has a pect it will prove to be one of the year as a culmination of years of student publication devoted as important unifying factors at this planning and hoping. Collegiate much space and thought to the cru¬ University. cial issues facing society today. Spe¬ -Eric Pianin magazines in general are notorious Wednesday, May 29, 1968 3 AWARD WINNING ESSAY Touching EDITOR'S NOTE: The following essay won the puls first prize of $100 in the recent contest spon¬ sored by the Humanities Department. The contest is described in the article on page 2. Richard Thomas is active in the Black Stu¬ dent Alliance, and his poetry appeared in the past issue of Collage devoted to Black people and culture. By RICHARD THOMAS After reading The Stranger I felt I had a small insight into what Camus was doing-a typical mistake! I felt Camus could be ex¬ plained as a new morality: a morality based on one's vision into oneself, and a faith in the honesty of oneself against the cosmetic honesty of the world. It is difficult to ap¬ preciate this honesty if one is operating out of the Judeo-Christian cage-tbe "I-Thou" ethic, it is a morality of the moment, not based upon strings attached to the kingdom of God, but rather to the kingdom of the moment and the self as reflected and heightened by hon¬ esty. Honesty becomes the altar Then how can one approach Camus if he sheds all of his Wes#rn ethic? One must first be honest with Winners of the Humanities Dept., Essay Contest are (lefl)'James oneself; that is painful, and more than often Zdanlo, third prize; Richard Thomas, first prize; and Mark A.:Pher- not rewarding, honesty that gets little applause from the outside. son, second prize. Photo by S««n Lum This is how I felt about Camus after reading The SImager. But after reading The Plague treats this same basic issue in The Plague. side Meursalt seem perioral I do not see I was confused and frightened because I In The Stranger we see how a chaplain, sup¬ this as a flaw, but ran;r as a backdrop thought I had touched bottom; The Plague, posedly more than mere man in his chosen against which Meursalt ; developed Marie which to me had to be an extension of The profession, becomes, in a fit of human frus¬ is sweet, but conveys noLtng to us. Masson Stranger, held together by Camus' constantly tration, man. We see beneath the robe and comes and goes and is rjnembered only be¬ deepening sensitivity, swallowed me up in its collar into the common soul, and it is like all cause he is tied in with (he killing of the diversity of human suffering, joy, endurance of us, thrashing around for balance and need. Arab. Raymond is a pimj> with a typical and its range of philosophical realness; its In The Plague we are given a more philo¬ pimp mentality. We see Ce'lest as we see closeness to life's own explanation of itself. a passing tree; he touches'us but leaves no sophical religious figure in Father Paneloux. But" in order to try to reveal what the two We spend more time with Paneloux than with lasting impression. Most U the characters books did to me, one after the other, I must the chaplain in The Stranger. We live through are furniture situated in ems of Meursalt's explain what I felt and thought of how Camus more of his agony; and we follow him through impressions, moods and fi til message. " . . . worked out what I would call the new morality. his philosophical adjustments, from his I laid mv heart open t i the benign indif¬ In The Stranger we are given Meursalt as the "Week of Prayer" sermon delivered during ference of the universe "rt feel it so like my¬ main character. We move through the story The Plague's early visit. A sermon much self . ." We're left witi a happy man and in his body, mind and spirit. We are on the like the chaplain in The Stranger. A sort of a crowd of spectators h« *iing at his execu¬ tips of his every feeling, and he has many. mocking I-told-you-so sermon, aimed at chas¬ tion. We are led into his world of physical sensa¬ But in The Plague all - ti characters take tising the sinner. "If today the Plague is in tions-light, darkness, moving shadows; heat your midst, that is because the hour has struck shape, from the dying faKr to the screams from the sun, reflections of the sea, a wom¬ for taking thought. The just man need have of a child in agony-to < ournalist's secret an's breast, her laughter. All these things, no fear, but the evildoer has good cause to thought about wanting U< oe a saint. Even animate or inanimate, are forests through tremble. For Plague is the flail of God and the faceless masses can e heard and felt which he takes us; but we do all of our trav¬ the world His thrashing floor, and implacably moving under the constat death strokes of eling inside him-and we end inside him, He will thresh out His harvest until the wheat the Plague. Even the rats' are felt as they thrashing about in an aura of a new morality is separated from the chaff." But as the struggle and die. Camus s»*aks through every that is difficult to explain yet feels so very Plague continues and the Father along with object, the sun; the hopd and fears; every¬ good, so very comfortable! others is forced to test his philosophy in its fire thing is employed to corw< y the message of But in The I'lague we travel in many bod¬ and ravage, after he has witnessed the suffer¬ deep sensitivity growing oat of human suf¬ ies, minds and spirits. And we are not always ing of a child, its prolonged agony-so hideous fering. sure of where we are. In The Stranger we are against its innocence, he is forced to question Each character is a pr«Het with a message in one man. alienated and thrashing about his calling. Somehow theology falls short of of the new morality. Ta^rw, the jownaiist, somewhat. In The Plague we are in a society explanation. He is faced with forging out of gives us that message: Vkit interests me is of men. And as Meursalt was only in jail part himself.-a new theology, a new morality to fit learning how to become a saint." When the of the book, in The Plague we start off in the inexplicable order of horror constantly un¬ doctor remarks, "Bet yea don't believe in jail, in the frightened souls of humans under folding before him. A child's death bites into God!" Tarrou replies. "Exactly! Can one be a a relentless adversary hovering forever over. him. Camus pushes him to the wall and the saint without God?~That's the problem, in To explain clearly how I felt towards both Father voices Camus' new morality: the fact the only problem, I'm ap against today." books I will attempt to approach the heart Father's second sermon was different as the Could this last have been Camus' problem too? (as it appears to me) through certain charac¬ chaplain's might have been had he been able One wonders? ters. I feel that Camus carried over this new to share the mounting mental anguish of the Dr. Rieux. who in the end turns out to have morality from The Stranger-and perhaps ful¬ condemned man. Now the Father shared the been the narrator, instruct; us too. His faith filled it 11 I he Plague. "sin" with the "sinner." He too was under the in man's struggle is rm u ingful for him as The chaplain in The Stranger, however sin¬ burden. "In other manifestations of life God something in itself. He d< « not seem to need cere he might be. is more conventional. We made things easy for us and. thus far. our reli¬ the old I-Thou ethic. Fa« »g death each day, get a glimpse into him, but only a glimpse; gion had no merit. But in this respect he put losing his wife and close Viend. he still faces he wants to sell Christ and he does not have us. so to speak, with our backs against the life. That's all-life! much time. He does not have time to lose a wall. Indeed, we are all up against the wall The Plague seems b< Hornless; how can customer to the Devil. "God can help you. All that Plague has built around us, and in its you fathom people sneak! if up cliffs to watch of the men I've seen in your position turned lethal shadow we must work out our salva¬ trains loaded with corps* >n their way to the to Him in their time of trouble."' This is the tion." Father Paneloux was willing to go to pit, and throwing flower x> them? How can only consolation he can give the condemned the extent of heresy to follow his new calling, you explain one wanting flL*scape this dreaded man. Even if the man needed something perhaps willing to thrash about until he felt Plague and forsaking tlJRirhance to stay be¬ else this chaplain must sell his product or comfortable in some new morality. What is hind to help the dying * This is no mere nothing. He is worried about the "sin" of Camus doing? What is he trying to say through heroism. He is dealing »ith all of us, and Meursalt in which he as chaplain has a vested the varied responses of religious men to harsh this is why I personally tcel fulfilled in The interest. When he sees he is failing he re¬ realities? One thing is certain: in both stories Plague. > veals his true color as a mere man. "No! each is made to face reality-and each is Could Camus be trying to call us back iato No! I refuse to believe it. I'm sure you've broken so as to reveal their common human¬ new humanism based a <) pot king any higher often wished there was an afterlife." Why ity. their common fears, joys and frustrations. than what we are and caa je* must he be sure? Is it so important that he be so sure? Or is the price of not being sure Camus does mach more throagh other char¬ Doctor Rieux's reply it Tarrou seems to acters in both books; though if treated as one point us in some direction "But you know. I too great a burden for him as a religious attempt at a new morality without strings, feel more fellowship wi-Ji the defeated than broker for salvation? What is Camus trying compensations or green stamps, as we see saints. Heroism and san-tty don't really ap- to sell us through this chapter-I dare say it an uninterrupted philosophy forming. pea' to me. I imagine# #hat interests me is infinitely more than mere moralizing But In The Strunger most of the characters out¬ we cannot know really until we see how Camus IC'ontinaedallege 9* 4 Michigan State News, East Lansing, Michigan I This game is becom- 1 ing an absardity. |«4«w KPT.§ ... and then I got a nose job. Z 6 Michigan State News, East Lansing, Michigan POETRY Contest winners Dream against the city The soul dreams against the city. Grasses separate pavements, And willows grow up in the glass eyes of dime stores. A flight of sparrows drive half the cars off a bluff in Iowa. Tonight the hills of Kentucky will march north in shadows To take the small cities of Michigan at dawn. The city spreads on populations of crushed glass and hubcaps. And makes us drowse in glass buildings in currents of cool air. In Illinois the glass fronts of Clark stations dry up the corn And drive darkness into Wisconsin. We are like small animals we catch in our headlights. Fascinated by what will destroy them. Soon only those who have fled to the mountains will be saved There is a clear vision of Rheims! And we fall asleep like man freezing to death: Bricks come out of walls talking politics with black men. They agree to destroy all buildings with glass doors. When we wake we have dreamt of the prairie. A party of Sioux fording the Missouri with all their belongings. Headed into Canada, their ponies leave a track On the deep grass. -Mark McKeon Painting by John Bloyer seashell/vampire passage of rubber flesh has left the tabernacle stone spun around resonant coils, mainspring run down and filled with soft static of sea, swallowed and unfurling catacomb where pulses dance in cloisters smooth as wax. clench as cold flowers out of stems collapse. i cannot sleep; sunlight creeping on the wall, and mitred shadow edges stretch my fever through the afternoon. but when the moon comes, and the beach shivers silver, and white trails of fish slit the black sea, my body's rage, that sucked the fat from hidden places like dawn dispelling mist, searing the red muscle, dies with evening chill, i rise and go on winding trails to the swelling sound of combers. by organ sea, dissolving out of shells, sweet incense runs down into sand, languid as spent passion, stretching under face of beach abutted by black voice and shining eye. i lie with veins out of wire, fire and silver wound in wax color, palmleaves chick like pterodactyl wings. yet the sound revolves in rounds of fisted flowers. -David Heal These poems are the winning entries in the verse category of the creative writing contest sponsored by Phi Eta Sigma and Alpha Lambda Delta, freshman scholastic bonoraries. $175 in prizes were awarded in this division. Entries by the following author re¬ ceived honorable mention: Roy Bryan, Wil¬ liam Goosens, Stuart Ouwinga, Dan Roso- chacki, Randy Schroth, Robert Vander Molen, and Peter Fiore. Bryan, Schroth and Vander Molen have been previously published in Col¬ lage. Sketch by Jan# Grover • Wednesday, May 29, 1968 7 What perfect timing death has, like mild milk-week follicles, nkara--and other places drifting and puffing their lamb wool tenacles in the sun, only Outside the to plummet and root city, along the tops of thorny green hills, grey on the most perfect of timeless days. fabled sand, foolishly groping Prophet of my manhood, he was and prodding with a withered the color of serenity half stick -- a mountain with the visage of the purple mirror sheperd picks and kicks where I would stand on a chair cursing skinny goats. They stare indelicate balance unmoving to see in my face fascinated my father's eyes. by the smell of distant Ankara, What perfect timing death has- unless you stand angel timeless in Ankara. roasting berries in the distance of her mosques. angel roasting berries At home in the hillocks in the distance of her mosques the mountain sheperd's wife is hanging their hides greyly in the sun- Part III - Royan - a sister by only in her mind. Another upturned belly Part I - Brussels - an uncle for the god's laughter on the beach. In the shallow brown shadows only a tired jellyfish- of the Pare de la Eglise Notre Dame du Sablon. its color and shape like nestled sensually in the belly a thousand puddles after of Brussels, young Claude laughed the rain in the streets of Royan. and romped, squashing captured The old children $-<>d it with long butterflies in raptured delight, sticks to secure the amazing wiping entrails on his bare certainty of its remarkable death, then legs, while his mother, young one by one wriggle their toes and widowed and deeply dark into its viscuous groin with squeals in eyes, sat of delight ever so lush on benches of quite and revulsion. new Belgian stone. And waited while above on crags and cliffs and waited proper young men court and failed to hear well mannered young women the laughter while she waited. to woo them as it were into the dark corners And one is stopped with such a proper air dead of propagation. by the absense of fish nets in Ankara. Motherhood is mixed with sand How strange it is to think in Ankara. of my uncle, who they say lusted in his sickness My pale sister was of the type who in the oily hospital which smelled stumbled nakedly into life like of spoiling chestnuts, as he lay dying some frail moth wrapped narrowly between virgin sheets choking in the prison of with the little beasts eating an outgrown cocoon. his potency to life. I often thought He once held me frightened she would grow to be a saint on his knee and in peals but she fooled us all and died of reddish laughter when she was ten.. told me They sixly bore her three by three that and propped her in the sun it is not hot. not cold in hell Poor sad finger but you can't grow apples there. of the Turkish moon Later I found he was right, in Ankara. but then he lusted in his sickness. Angel eating berries How innocently orange in the distance of her mosques. and bright * tonight is Ankara. Part IV - Revelations angel Today is such a dead time eating berries seen through frosted glass. in the distance of her mosques. What a waste it is to be in that body in the mirror- Part II -- New Mexico - a father I see my hair is October, Yet I Mesquite, Black Chaparral. Thorny Oak - peoples am a Wednesday child of the Sangre de Christo flow under the sign of the fish vapor-like in the new Spanish sun, I wish I was sand and could feel like some mad St. Remy the sandled foot and hear Van Gogh vision. Rows of young the sandy voices pilgrims sweat and wind up crying out the mountain south of Taos, the resur¬ to view the final pyre, the bluish rection urn where-in enshrined of stillness in final rest is Lawrence untroubled and the godness of breath. by the framed French fingers pointing in a wondrous vertigo of dates But I am an undried squalling how he through off his ghost, was thing of pink and have not inhumed, exhumed, consumed, lost my memory- packaged, crated, shipped, sol'll wait- For I have been to Ankara, posted, checked and finally strapped on a lazy ass up and my footprints mirror the winding mountain to be displayed the shadows in shrouded portals of my walking away legs. of white adobe all in ashes At home in the hillocks n like the words he wrote. the mountain sheperd's wife of Ankara has hung the hides of the goats You can buy the Rubaiyat her husband is prodding home for soft silver and lira in Ankara. But only in her mind. --Jo« Dior. Published in Grand Rapids Press, also Graff Yesterday my father was as old as the Persian trade winds- Rapids Junior College ' Collegiate'' winnei today they are his judge. Dyer-Ives Weit Michigan poetry contest Michigan State News, East Lansing, Michigan Great Ten Day Legume (Continued from page 5) a blast or two, but Henri rationalized this by Washington St. route, called in early in the their morning heads, he passed out wooden afternoon from the 33rd St. remembering that civilian casualties are to be clubs which he had patiently whittled from oak Hospital and Veti- nary Clinic, where he was undergoing treat¬ expected. Although the tear gas took its toll wood during his father's long illness in hopes ment for toxic poisoning after gassing himself on the enemy, and Henri mentally danced a and secret anticipation of this day. The appease¬ on his lunch-break while trying to write his un¬ slight jog at the thought of the "maulers" cry¬ ment policy was over, he told the men, the two cle Vicento a letter with the new pen Henri ing and wailing like babes from the gas. it decoy carts would no longer be sent into the had given him. And later the 16th Police Pre¬ was decided that the gas was to be discontin¬ heart of the "mauler's" territory, but would cinct, on Boulder Dam Drive telephoned Hen¬ ued, owing to the fact that once released, the instead skirt the outside and carry out business ri and told him they were holding a Guisseppi gas was uncontrollable and a crying route man as usual. Any assault on body or vegetables was can't sell many onions, not to mention legumes. to be met with force and instant retaliation. To Papa for malicious attack on an eight year old the two or three new men, who had gathered boy who. while trying to buy his crippled moth¬ If the Open Air Market thought Henri's gas er some celery, without provocation, the same in hopes of a peaceful job, and making a silent attack cowardly and against the accepted con¬ Guisseppi Papa, had taken a vile of tear gas ventions of warfare, they did not give Henri living among the tenement and apartment and let the youth have it flesh in his startled houses of the lower west side of the city, sell¬ the satisfaction of this knowledge. For in an¬ little face. The cops told Henri that Guisseppi swer to Henri's note the next morning, which ing vegetables, fruits and legumes, he ex¬ P. had said that he was acting on Henri's or- plained the need of arming themselves and gave read in full: "I am preparing to CLEAN OUT ters. to which Henri answered that he didn't a capsule summary of the so far one-sided battle your nest." was another inept ruse from the know any Guisseppi P and would the police between the Manteaus and their enemy, the Market which read: "Have you escaped from be so kind as to hold the push cart at the open air market. He asked if there were any somewhece?" station, while Henri would send over a man to questions, one of the new men walked out. and And "Clean out" was exactly what Henri retrieve it, since it had more than likely been one of them said, "What the hell's a legoom?" did. After the fat old German had delivered stolen by this infamous Guisseppi P. "Stupid When the men had left on their routes. Henri the morning's produce, with his usual neigh¬ took a plain white sheet of paper and scratched Dagos" Henri muttered borly greeting and friendly banter: "You vill The afternoon was not without its victories out in simple hand-writing: giff me ein hoodredt und vorty-vive dolla though. The enemy, in the person of the Mer¬ or I vill poot mein boot up your aschlope." Open Air Market, Corner, Canton & 37th St. cenary "Marbury St. Maulers." had been con¬ Henri and Simple Tony had taken all of the tacted on Century St., 35th St., by the river, fruit and produce which the "maulers" were and on 38th St. near Duke George's Park. There Gentlemen: most likely to steal and had soaked them in were reports of wholesale confusion due to the boiling, oily, soapy water-letting them soak gas attack on the part of the enemy, and also BEWARE. (Continued alas, a few innocent bystanders had received on page 9) signed it H. Manteau, of "Henri Manteau, Fan¬ cy Fruits, Greens and Legumes," and gave it to Simple Tony to deliver. With his mind rising through the alcohol fog to the glory and spoils of war, he then set himself to sweeping up the loose lettuce leaves, potato roots and string beans. The afternoon passed without incident, the "maulers" perhaps caught off guard by the absence of the two decoy carts. Simple Tony brought back an answer from the manager of the Open Air Market, which read simply: "Do I know You?" "Ha." Said Henri, with vivid expectations of the next day. Henri's expectations were not to be dis¬ appointed either, for the following afternoon the Woolton Ave. route man returned with minor lacerations and several bruises minus the cart which he had abandoned in lieu of his life. "Coward." Said Henri and dismissed the man on the spot. - "Fascist." Said the shaken man Ad informed Henri that he had already quit. Henri dispatched Simple Tony to retrieve the cart, and the man left protesting vigorously, armed with two clubs, but returned later with the cart with no further incident. Henri's next thoughts were on an ample battle plan. It seemed that clubs were not the answer, the Maulers had descended on the Woolton Ave. route man with such superior numbers that not even the flaying club had much effect, indeed it only angered the gang to seek revenge of a more physical nature then just stealing the pro¬ duce. The next morning found a smiling Henri watching the route men leave, their carts laden with produce, and today's special, parsley sprigs -a nickle a piece, and in each of their pockets a mail-order tear-gas cartridge, disguised as a fountain pen, which Henri had purchased months ago and hidden under a crate of cab¬ bage hearts in preparation for the war. When the last cart had left, Henri had Simple Tony deliver another note to the Open Air Market, which read: Open Air Market, Corner, Canton & 37th St. Gentlemen: The Pen is mightier than the club. H. Manteau When Simple Tony came back with an ^nswer, he was munching on an avocado, which Henri knew he had got from the Open Air Market and to him was a sure sign of treason, but his fears were belayed by the answering message which read: "Are you as crazy as your messen¬ ger?" The afternoon was hot, muggy and filled with the little surprise that make modern warfare a thing of beauty. Giovanni deLancio, of the West Wednesday May 29, 1968 9 Touching the pulse of humanity (Continued from page 3) but rather a revelation inside an older revel¬ a judicial shrugging of o» - shoulders, to feel ation, a brighter light within a waning light, the same heartbreak for m as for the child, as the darkness deepens-and the collective because we are of the sarjhy surging blood, the is being a man." And Tarrou answers, "Yes. same flesh and bone, bur mainly because we we're both after the same thing, but I think groping of humanity, go inwardly and outward¬ have all at one time or atA ler wondered, and I'm less ambitious." ly in feverish search of meaning. Both men, Dr. Rieux and Tarrou are search¬ What do I mean by this fulfillment, this groped and stumbled in" the darkness, be¬ cause we have all been ir prisons and pla- ing for some new humanism. There is no new; humanity toward which I base my claim, interpretation of Camus? I mean a shift, gues-but we must appreciate Meursalt so as "going home again." Home is inside and out¬ my to find him again in /&* Plague, as that side the spiritual quest; the quality of that a deliberate sensitizing of the basic com¬ ponents of humanity that are a very real and screaming child, the Fattier, the doctor, and quest. Both men are subtle messages from when we find him we tili have found our¬ Camus, matches in some dark tunnel, with essential part of us-to extend ourselves into another person's soul as they are. To feel and selves because we will tl* n have touched upon which we might find some exits. But are exits answers or entrances into further human appreciate the history of Meursalt, his grop¬ the essential pulse of hrfn^nity and perhaps out of it all. fashioned a nr morality. misery? Where is Camus taking us? How do we ing as a person, and not to abandon him, with arrange the messages in The Stranger and The Plague so that they form signposts leading to¬ ward this new humanism, this new morality- based upon the outcome of our groping about? In Father Paneloux the groping seems more authentic because it seems the groping stems from comparable knowns, those comparable foundations not known to shift in midsea. The sand underneath these knowns is shifting-- historically on every level of human expres¬ sion, as everything based on them is thrown out of orbit, into other orbits. The comfortable orbits break down in The Plague. In The Strang¬ er, it does not matter as much because there is only one orbit, and there is no audience, no sharer of the pain. Father Paneloux is the more radical side of religious expression, but Camus shows that new wine is still too strong for even half-old bottles. Carnus forces us to forsake old ideas, ideals and human institutions of security, old expres¬ sions and feelings. We are stripped bare, nude before a burning revelation of a new force with¬ in us; the force of being, of transcending our¬ selves. "Nor should we listen to certain mor¬ alists who told us to sin on our knees and give up the struggle. No. we should go forward, groping our way through the darkness, stum¬ bling perhaps at times, and try to do what good lay in our power." To me the most important message is the "going-forward" the "stum¬ Great Legum bling perhaps at times." Why? Because it lends a sort of vital refreshing legitimacy to the present social movements, not so much (Continued from page 6> tery and diarrhea in tt_L ower West end of to their particular direction or vision, but to the city, perhaps due to arii nd soap in the West the "going forward" the "stumbling." Camus long enough for the oil and soap to penetrate End Water Reservoir, or sme other unknown the fruit like a sponge. After this they had taken factor. The snarl of the yiftor was on Henri's yanks us out of the security hunt, and sanc¬ the fruit and put them into the cold storage bin tifies the darkness, the insecurities, the grop¬ firm jaw as he took pen and scribbled a note to harden them up so that one could not tell to the ing about. The Plague reduces us all to the Open Air Market "Gentlemen: Do I personal darkness which we would have es¬ they had been "spiked." When the men came detect a weakening in tl * very Bowels of the for the carts, Henri passed out the little "gifts" caped had it not occurred. We escape it in enemy forces?" And *»l»en Simple Tony to two or three of the routes which had been returned half-hour The Stranger. We abandoned Meursalt. And a b^ftre Henri was to most often hit in the past by the "maulers," close the we lied about it. We told ourselves that he was shop, on this djy af glory, with blood and when the men had left, settled back in cruel, unkind in love, a murderer, insensitive dripping from his already ;ug nose and a very his makeshift office cackling and giggling to motherhood, which at the bottom was the perplexed look on his face^with a verbal mes¬ like a man with witch-craft on his mind. abandonment of our very real selves. So we sage from the Hierarchy at the Open Air Mar¬ This was by far Henri's most subtle and in¬ ket, which was in full: •JIHIT", Henri knew fled, hurling back at Meursalt platitudes, and denying him in ourselves. But we are genious thrusts in the three day old war, and that while the battle was hs, the war had just Henri, congratulated himself abundantly for trapped in The Plague, we abandon one strug¬ begun. his resourcefulness and craft in the fact of gling human only to run into another. And we Henri Manteau spent ii«st of the weekend, cannot quite escape-or can we? superior numbers. That afternoon when the men returned, Henri found out that all had sitting in the porcelain t h, navel deep in oily water, pushing the soap ish around the edge I raise these questions, I encircle these gone as planned; the carts with the "spiked" with his toe and content iiting the first week fruit had been ransacked with unusual vigor by specific incidences, only to locate the kernel of the war-and specula vig on the week to of Camus' new morality, as I see it, as I the "maulers," who Henri supposed, were try¬ come. think I experience it. I go back to what I ing a new offensive to retaliate for the gas at¬ He was sure the "matters" would recover said about Camus pointing the way towards tack of yesterday. Of course, some of the fruit had fallen into the hands of civilians who sufficiently to resume thej attacks on the push¬ some new humanism. The Stranger'* fulfill¬ carts, since the diarrhea could only be expect¬ ment in The Plague, as I see it, constitutes bought them, but his was inevitable in order ed to last three days at the most, Henri was not to arouse suspicion. not a departure from the old sterile institu¬ positive that the second veek of the war would "It's almost poetic." Thought Henri Manteau tional humanisms, both secular and religious. see increased contact w the emphasis was on fantasy. The humans Ward's first creation. Crusader Rabbit, a Mills or Mattell), Mi( .ey would announce were limited primarily to Buffalo Bob, Chief cotton-tailed White Knight with a tiger what today was: Anyth g-Can-Happen Day, Thunderthud, Corny Cobb, and Clarabelle Circus Day, Talent Rcjpi-Up Day, Guest- sidekick named Rags. I am sure that Cru¬ Clown. Everyone else was a marionette. Star Day, or plain old tyogseketeer Monday sader's name brings a pang of nostalgia to And what a fantastic array of characters! And then our heroes appeared! The tal¬ many a worldly-wise heart, because the old There was the evil mayor Phineas T. ented Mouseketeers would prance out in the cartoon shows were surely our favorites. Bluster. Dilly Dally. Fluberdub (the crea¬ "costume du jour" and sing a catchy tune Of course we watched "My Friend Flicka," ture who craved spaghetti). Tizzy the about what day it was. For example: "Sky King," and "Captain Gallant of the Dinosaur, Princess Summerfallwinterspring Here comes the circus! Foreign Legion." But the best parts of those (who unfortunately became a human after Everyone loves the ciiciii! Saturday mornings were animated. the first few years), Heidi Doody (Howdy's We loved "Mighty Mouse," even if we And that includes the i terry Mouseketeers! did have to sit through one episode of Alpine cousini. Salty (the evil sea cap¬ Clowns in the circus tain who helped Mr. Bluster search for Keep the frowns from he circus, "Farmer Alfalfa" to see him. Even the commercials Davy Jones' Locker), and, of course, Howdy As the old calliope rit % in your ears! (Colgate's Happy Tooth) himself, either dressed in his usual cow¬ were endearing on that program. We loved "Ruff and boy suit or disguised as John J. Fadoozle, Or the ever-popular stand ->1: Ready." the early Hannah- America's Number One ("Boing!") Pri¬ Barbara hit. We loved Rottie Kazootie and We are the merry Mo fceteers! his Galapoochie pup. And we even vate Eye. We've got a lot aboveears! loved the A friend of mine continually spreads the ancient cartoons that were used on local Hup, two, three, four r f kiddie shows. These remnants from the legend of the Last Howdy Doody Show. It Horray! Horray! Han*?! seems to have been a mystic experience Cheers for the merry 111Musketeers! thirties included "Krazy Kat," "Betty for her. so I would like to pass it on to you But no matter whicli :Jay it was, these Boop," Max Fleicher's "Out of the Ink¬ Just as Buffalo Bob was about to say well," and those old Looney Tunes that al¬ cheery melodies invariable led up to the com¬ goodbye for the last time, Clarabelle came pelling cry, "Mouseketeer roll call! Count off ways had grasshoppers and lightning bugs dashing out, tooting his horn and squirting now! " Then, we watched them count off once singing "The Lady in Red" in nightclubs seltzer very excitedly. Buffalo Bob asked made of old teapots, broken dishes, or a again, and we remarked tnce again that An¬ the clown what was wrong, but his panto¬ nette and Timmy were » t^ cutest, Bobby and brown derby. of miming explained nothing. Finally, the Doreen the most obnoxi s, Karen and Cubby For most us, however, the best car¬ clown calmed down and walked directly up the dullest, and Darleen « concert grand, a lit¬ "Winko!" But somehow it was disturbing Bob Keeshen, who played Clarabelle, tle boy who juggled so * H that you suspected to see that falsetto-voiced pixie climbing invisible ladders or walking on water, so never topped this performance. But soon him of being a 40-year-o.d midget, or a baton- after the death of the "Doody" show, he twirler who did splits anil usually turned out to we kept on drawing. And if we couldn't find reappeared on his own series, "Captain be Darlene's sister. We Wire all very envious our special screen and crayons, we just the Kangaroo," where he has been ever since. when our video-land fri»r.ds gathered around drew on glass with our Crayolas. Assisted by Lumpy Barnum (better known these intruders and reciUd'"Step right up! The live action shows were widely di¬ as Mr. Green Jeans), the Captain spent day That's your hat! What a «*at! Here's your ears! versified, but again, the best shows were after day in the Treasure House trying to Reach right out! Time i here! You're an hon¬ those with the most fantasy. We watched keep Grandfather Clock from going to sleep. orary (BOOM!) Mousek £2r!" "Mr. Wizard" or "Ding Dong School" with Bunny Rabbit from stealing carrots, and the The second quarter-hou." period usually at¬ Miss Frances, but only when there was live animals from relieving themselves all tempted some form ol subtle education or nothing on that was more exciting. the studio. The best live action shows were those over moralizing. If there wasr't a dreadful news- Then, out of all this boredom came the reel narrated by Tim C ir^sodine, Jimmie and which stressed fantasy, omitted parent feature that made Captain Kangaroo a Annette would sing anc her verse of "Beauty figures, and featured non-human characters. Is As Beauty Does." ,'tri sometimes Jiminv memorable show. It was a cartoon called The earliest of these classics was Burr "Tom Terrific." Tom was a Winky Dink Cricket would continue the saga of "I'm No Tillstrom's "Kukla. Fran and Ollie. ' a type who wore a kitchen funnel on his head Fool" safety tips or " tcvclopedia" entries. brilliant puppet show featuring a clown, a (The mind fairly reels * the number of people instead of Winky's star. This magic funnel- dragon. Beulah the Witch and smiling Fran in our generation who ^earned to spell that hat enabled Tom to change into anything Allison. Fortunately, Tillstrom's charact¬ word from Disney's jing •! i he wanted to be and with his friend. Mighty ers are still around, most recently on Manfred the Wonder Dog. he went on ex¬ The last half of the s w was sheer escape! Xerox's "Children's Film Festival." citing adventures in ten-minute serial form. First, a 15-minute e ..iode of "The Hardy Most of the other classic kiddie shows The other members of his cast were Bovs," "Spin and Mar T. ' "Corky and White are now defunct. First to go was "The Crabby Appleton ("Rotten to the core 'i. Shadow." or the seriaHfcJhere Annette was a Buster Brown Show." Every week. Uncle Ed McConnell w4k> was usually trying to get his liendish city girl who went to tfo country, where that (replaced upon his death by Roberta Shore ' rtade everyone think Andy Devine would say, "Plunk your hands on the Cleo-Fatra jewels, and Isotope mean Fee::y a bearded mad scientist who lived that sweet Annette h ' stolen a necklace, magic twanger. Froggy." Froggy the Grem¬ lin would then do exactly that, and off we in the foreboding Ivory Tower. Appleton following which Miss ianicello sang "How would go to India for another violent, ter¬ and Feeny never succeeded in ruling the Will I Know My Love 87 times. world, but together they made Captain Finally the show com ijded with two Mouse¬ rifying episode of "Gunga the Elephant keteers singing, "Tim« lo twist the Mouse- Bov." Kangaroo" a most enjoyable show. Another classic show created in the Then came the time that we began to think (Continued « |. This is making death or daylight. by Howard Nemerov the realization that "the only real T is the Nemerov's vision is that man must continue Univ. of Chicago Press, 1962 $2.45 whole endless process" of life, and correspond¬ in darkness, trusting and loving, and failing un¬ ingly collaborating with the world in a game of til success or death brings an answer. He A contemporary philosopher and a contem¬ play. doesn't believe in a Utopia, and yet he yearns porary poet-dramatist have much the same This is not the sum and whole of Watts' book: for some sort of peace. He certainly doesn't problem in trying to convey their heightened but it is part of his vision (read The «<>«>A if have any pat answers, for when God tells Cain perceptions of things "visible and invisible" you haven't already. It is a vision of perceiv¬ that He was the serpent in the Garden, he to a modern skeptical audience. In the case of ing the world as it appears to be. as it really says. both Watts and Nemerov, a freely conversa¬ is, and as it might be had we the sight with I can believe that, but nobody else tional tone has been employed to examine the which to see it. will. taboos against knowing who you are. The Howard Nemerov. in his verse play "Cain." I see it so well, that You are the mas¬ Book and Nemerov's play, "Cain" (in The ter of the will provides some fascinating speculation on the Next Room of The Dream) are dynamic and Adam and Eve myth < "myth" used as one of the That marks two ways at once, whose sensitive probings of the way things are and great fictions by which we interpret the world > action why. Both Nemerov and Watts postulate that Cain is rejected by his parents and brother, and Is its own punishment, the cause life is a Game, but their final statements dif¬ That is its result. finally talks with God. asking why he is not own fer radically, as Watts' vision is that of the Man must continue, having the courage not accepted. Ultimately he wants to know why revolutionary and Nemerov's is that of the things are the way they are. God tells Cain that to know what must come. Nemerov says that poet. he has the power to will anything he wishes, the nature of things is such as to preclude Watts maintains that the universe is a unity, so Cain kills Abel in an effort to change his any change for the better: the more things God playing a hide-and-seek game with Himself status. In doing so. he discovers that nothing change, the more they are the same. Watts to keep from being eternally and infinitely has really changed for him. and he becomes says the same thing, but his orientation is that bored. After all. how much fun is it if you know the first prophet. God speaks: this is an indication of cosmic unity and affirm¬ everything that's going to happen? So God pre¬ I send you away. Cain. You are one ation. rather than a dimly-hoped for chance, an tends to forget that he has secreted various bits of my holy ones, discoverer of limits . . affirmation we must make ourselves aware of Himself throughout the universe, and that's And mankind will, I believe, honor your name enough to perceive. After all. Watts perceives. how things are the way they are. honor your name As one who has faced But for Nemerov. the rule of the game is that Watts' philosophy is heavily scented with Ori¬ things as they are. And changed them, the knowledge of this perception as Truth is ental flavors, yet his case is quite intriguing to and found them still the same. forever denied us. We cannot know. the Western mind. Watts points out that the After Cain leaves, the stage is left to Adam Read both books: they are the perceptive in¬ "insoluble Problem of Evil" (if God is Good¬ and Eve, who represent the Common Man. won¬ sights of two men in contact with the Cosmic, ness. how can He permit Evil?) derives from dering if there is an Eden to return to or find who have not been too paralyzed by the bright¬ an arbitrary division between "form" or es¬ again. Adam speaks: ness of their visions to act. sence and "matter." with the implication that "energy, form and intelligence must come into the world from outside." This entire problem disappears if such a division is not made. Watts also demonstrates that our society encourages a "double-bind" game, one with self-contra¬ dictory rules: The first rule of the game is that it is not a game. Everyone must play. Paperbounds on your Be yourself, but play a consistent and acceptable role. reading list? Control yourself and be natural. DIVISION STREET: Kiddie TV AMERICA kedial to the (Continued from page ID right and the left with a great By Studs Terkel Paperback $1.25 w i !i big smile. This is the way we get to see a "The people speak In this unique Mousecartoon for you and me. Meeska, book. Division Street is the home of the 70 real Americans of this mooseka, Movseketeer! Mousecartoon time now is here!" A drawer woald mysteriously powerful and revealing book. In open, and Cubby or Karen would stick his cute this book—and on this street—you'll little head out and yell, "The Mousecartoon meet your neighbors. This book reveals the complex heart of the for today is . . And the cartoon would be (a) "Steamboat Willie," (b) "Flowers and big city American as well as the Trees," or (c) "Skeleton Dance." complex lives Americans are now Once again the magic hour would end too living ... and does this so com¬ soon. Like the shows we watched on Satur¬ passionately that the general reader will find it as exciting as a good day morning, "The Mickey Mouse Club" offered us an idea world where fantasy reigned novel." supreme, where the parent figures were kept to a minimum, and where children were all attractive, friendly, and talented (all-white, THE 10 BEST-SELLING PAPERBACKS too!). The next step was. of course, to adolescence 6. 1. The Arrangement Capable of Honor and "American Bandstand." the teenagers' 7. 2. The King Everything but Money fantasy land, where everything was reduced 3. Valley of the Dolls 8. Fathers to a simple, "I'll give it an 85 'cause it has 9. 4. The Pearl Anyone can make a Million a good beat and is easy to dance to." But 5. Go to the Window Maker 10. The Delta Factor that's another story . . . Pinky Lee is dead and so is his era. But now for the first time, our generation can look back on the past- our own past-with a tear of nostalgia. Such were the shows we were weaned on. Qim^ooK^DRa Most of them are gone forever, yet they pro¬ vide the raw materials for many evenings of sitting beneath a starlit sky. dreaming nostalgically of the days gone by. Next time you are alone with someone you would like to know better, simply slip your arm around her waist, look deep into her eye and whisper softly, "Sometimes late at night I start to wonder . Why do you Over 100 Publishers suppose Poison Sumac wanted to steal Polka Dottie's polka dots?' ! m sure you Stocked in our Warehouse can guess what her reply will be