The Big Broadcast of 1938
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Having acquired in exge for an old house that had been theirs, his and hers, a radio or more properly radio station, Bloomsbury could now play "The Star-Spangled Banner," which he had always admired immoderately, on at of its finality, as often as he liked. It meant, to him, that everything was fiherefore he played it daily, 60 times between 6 and 10 a.m., 120 times between 1.2 noon and 7 p.m., and the whole night long except when, as was sometimes the case, he was talking.Bloomsburys radio talks were of two kinds, called the first kind and the sed kind. The first sisted of singling out, for special notice, from among all the others, some particular word in the English language, aing it in a monotonous voice for as much as fifteen minutes, or a quarter-hour. The word thus singled out might be any word, the word heless for example. "heless," Bloomsbury said into the microphone, "heless, heless, heless, heless, heless, heless, heless." After this exposure to the glare of publispe the word would frequently disclose new properties, unsuspected qualities, although that was far from Bloomsburys iion. His iion, insofar as he may be said to have had one, was simply to put something "on the air."
The sed kind of radio talk which Bloomsbury provided was the ercial annou.
The Bloomsbury annous were perhaps not too similar to other annous broadcast during this period by other broadcasters. They were dissimilar chiefly in that they were addressed not to the mass of men but of course to her, she with whom he had lived in the house that was goraded for the radio). Frequently he would begin somewhat in this vein:
"Well, old girl" (he began), "here we are, me speaking into the tube, you lying on your back most likely, giving an ear, I dont doubt. Swell of you to tune me in. I remember the time you went walking without your shoes, what an evening! You were wearing, I recall, your dove-gray silk, with a flower hat, and you picked your way down the boulevard as daintily as a real lady. There were chestnuts on the ground, I believe; you plaihat they felt like rocks under your feet. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled in front of you, sweeping the chestnuts into the gutter with my hand. What an evening! You said I looked absurd, and a gentleman who assing iher dire, I remember he wore yellow spats with yellow shoes, smiled. The lady apanying him reached out to pat me on my head, but he grasped her arm and prevented her, and the knees of my trousers tore on a broken pla the pavement.
"Afterwards you treated me to a raspberry ice, calling for a saucer, which you placed, daintily, at your feet. I still recall the ess, after the hot work on the boulevard, and the way the raspberry stained my muzzle. I put my fa your h<u>.</u>and, and your little glove came aink and sticky, sticky and pink. We were fortable there, in the ice cream parlor, we were pretty as a picture! Man and wife!
"Whe home, that evening, the street lights were just ing on, the is were just ing out. And you said that ime, if there were a ime, you would wear your shoes. Even if it killed you, you said. And I said I would always be there to sweep away the chestnuts, whatever happened, even if nothing happened. And you said most likely that was right. I always had been there, you said. Swell of you to notice that. I thought at the time that there robably no one more swell than you in the whole world, anywhere. And I wao tell you, but did not.
"And then, when it was dark, we had our evening quarrel. A very ordinary one, I believe. The subject, which had been announced by you at breakfast and posted oice board, was Smallness in the Human Male. Yued that it was willfulness on my part, whereas I argued that it was lack of proper nourishment during my young years. I lost, as was right of course, and you said I couldnt have any supper. I had, you said, already ged myself on raspberry ice. I had, you said, ruined a good glove with my ardor, and a det pair of trousers too. And I said, but it was for the love of you! and you said, hush! or therell be no breakfast either. And I said, but love makes the wo! and you said, or lunorrow either. And I said, but we were everything to each other once! and you said, or supper tomorrow night.
"But perhaps, I said, a little toffee? Ruin your teeth then for all I care, you said, and put some pieces of toffee in my bed. And thus we went happily to sleep. Man and wife! Was there ever anything, old skin, like the old days?"
Immediately following this ercial annou, or an annou much like this, Bloomsbury would play "The Star-Spangled Banner" 80 or 100 times, for the finality of it.
Wheerrogated himself about the matter, about how it felt to operate a radio of his own, Bloomsbury told himself the absolute truth, that it felt fine. He broadcast during this period not only some of his favorite words, such as the words assimilate, alleviate, authenticate, ameliorate, and quantities of his favorite music (he articularly fond of that part, toward the end, that went: da-da, da da da da da da da-a), but also a series of ercial annous of great pooignancy, and persuasiveness. <var></var>heless he felt, although he mao ceal it from himself for a space, somewhat futile. For there had been no response from her (she who figured, as both subjed object, in the ercial annous, and had once, before it had been traded for the radio, lived in the house).
A ercial annou of the period of this feeling was:
"On that remarkable day, that day unlike any other, that day, if you will pardon me, of days, on that old day from the old days when we were, as they say, young, we walked if you will five the extravagance hand in hand into a theater where there was a film playing. Do you remember? We sat in the upper baly and smoke from below, where there were people smoking, rose and we, if you will excuse the digression, smelled of it. It smelled, and I or we thought it remarkable at the time, like the tweh tury. Which was after all our tury, her.
"We were there you and I because we hadnt rooms and there were no parks and we hadnt automobiles and there were no beaches, for making love or anything else. Ergo, if you will dohe ana, we were forced into the baly, to the topmost row, from which we had a tilty view of the silver s. Or would have had had we not you and I been engaged in pawing and pushing, pushing and pawing. On my part at least, if not on yours.
"The first thing I knew I was inside your shirt with my hand and I found there something very lovely and, as they say, desirable. It beloo you. I did not know, then, what to do with it, therefore I simply (simply!) held it in my hand, it was, as the saying goes, soft and warm. If you believe it. Meanwhile down below i events were taking place, whether these were such as the people i had paid for, I did not and do not know. Nor did or do, wherever you are, you. After a time I was in fact distracted, I still held it in my hand but I was looking elsewhere.
"You then said into my ear, get on with it, t you?
"I then said into your ear, Im watg the picture.
"At this speeine you were moved to withdraw it from my hand, I uood, it unishment. Having withdrawn it you began, for lack of anythier, to watch the picture also. We watched the picture together, and although this was a kind of intimacy, the other kind had been lost. heless it had been there once, I soled myself with that. But I felt, I felt, I felt (I think) that you were, as they say, angry. And to that row of the baly we, you and I, never returned."
After this annou was broadcast Bloomsbury himself felt called upon to weep a little, and did, but not "on the air."
He was in fact weeping quietly in the trol room, where were kept the microphohe sole, the turntables and the hotplate, with "The Star-Spangled Banner" playing bravely and a piece of buttered toast in his hand, when he saw in the glass that ected the trol room with the other room, which had been a reception room or foyer, a girl or woman of ierminate age dressed in a long bright red linen duster.
The girl or woman removed her duster, underh she was wearing black toreador pants, an e sweater, and harlequin glasses. Bloomsbury immediately stepped out into the reception room or foyer in order to view her more closely, he regarded her, she regarded him, after a time there was a versation.
"Youre looking at me!" she said.
"Oh, yes," he said. &quht. I certainly am."
"Why?"
"Its something I do," he said. "Its my you might say métier."
"Milieu," she said.
"Métier," Bloomsbury said. "If you dont mind."
"I dont ofte looked at as a matter of fact."
"Because youre not very good-looking," Bloomsbury said.
"Oh I say."
"Glasses are discing," he said.
"Even harlequin glasses?"
"Especially harlequin glasses."
"Oh," she said.
"But you have a grand behind," he said.
"Also a lively sense of humor," she said.
"Lively," he said. "Whatever possessed you to use that word?"
"I thought you might like it," she said.
"No," he said. "Definitely not."
"Do you think you ought to stand around and look at girls?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," Bloomsbury said. "I think its indicated."
"Indicated," she cried. "What do you mean, indicated?"
"Tell me about your early life," Bloomsbury said.
"To begin with I was <q>.９9ｌiｂ?</q>president of the rad Veidt fan club," she began. "That was in, oh, I dont remember the year. His magism and personality got me. His void gestures fasated me. I hated him, feared him, loved him. When he died it seemed to me a vital part of my imaginatiooo."
"I didnt mean necessarily in such detail," he said.
"My world of dreams was bare!"
"Fan club prexies are invariably homely," Bloomsbury said.
"Plain," she suggested. "I prefer the word plain. Do you want to see a picture of rad Veidt?"
"I would be greatly ied," Bloomsbury said (although this was not the truth).
The girl or woman therieved from her purse, where it had apparently remained for some time, perhaps even years, a page from a magazi bore a photograph of rad Veidt who looked at one and the same instant handsome and sihere was moreover printing on the photograph which said: If RAD VEIDT offered you a cigarette, it would be a DE REZKE -- of course!
"Very affeg," Bloomsbury said.
"I never actually met Mr. Veidt," the girl (or woman) said. "It wasnt that sort of club. I mean we werent in actual unication with the star. There was a Joan Crawford fan club, and those people now, they were in actual unication. When they wanted a remembrance. . ."
"A remembrance?"
"Such as Kleehat had been used by the star, for instance, with lipsti it, or fingernail clippings, or a stog, or a hair from the stars horses tail or mane. . ."
"Tail or mane?"
"The star naturally, noblesse oblige, forwarded that object to them."
"I see," Bloomsbury said.
"Do you look at a lot of girls?"
"Not a lot," he said, "but quite a number."
"Is it fun?"
"Not fun," he said, "but better than nothing."
"Do you have affairs?"
"Not affairs," he said, "but sometimes a little flutter."
"Well," she said, "I have feelings too."
"I think its very possible," he said. "A great big girl like you."
This remark however seemed to offend her, she turned on her heel ahe room. Bloomsbury himself felt moved by this meeting, which was in fact the first tact he had enjoyed with a human being, of any description, sihe beginning of the period of his proprietorship of the radio, and even before. He immediately returo the trol room and introduced a new ercial annou.
"I remember" (he enunciated), "the quarrel about the ice cubes, that was a beauty! That was one worth. . . remembering. You had posted oice board the subject Refrigeration, and I worried about it all day long, and wondered. Clever minx! I recalled at length that I had plained, once, because the ice cubes were not frozen. But were in fafrozen! watery! useless! I had said that there werent enough ice cubes, whereas you had said there were more than enough.
"You said that I was a fool, an idiot, an imbecile, a stupid!, that the mae in your kit which you had procured and caused to be placed there was without doubt and on immaculate authority the most aplished mae of its kind known to those who knew about maes of its kind, that among its attributes was the attribute of ceiving taining and at the moment of need whelping a fine number of ice cubes so that no matter how grave the demand, how vast the occasion, how indifferent or even hostile the climate, how i or even treacherous the operator, how brief or even ent the lapse between genesis and parturitioween the wish and the fact, ice cubes in multiples of suffit would present themselves. Well, I said, perhaps.
"Oh! how you boggled at that word perhaps. How you sweated, old girl, and cursed. Your chest heaved, if I may say so, and your eyes (your eyes!) flashed. You said we would, by damn, t the by damn ice cubes. As we, subsequently, did.
"How I enjoyed, although I cealed it from you, the ting! You were, as they say, magisterial. There were I observed twelve rows of three, or three of twelve, in each of four trays. But this way of ting was not your way of ting. You chose, and I admired your choice, the expliess and impliess of it, to run water over the trays so that the cubes, loosened, fell into the salad bowl, having previously turhe trays, and thus the cubes, bottoms up, so that the latter would fall, when water was run upon the former, in the proper dire. That these matters were so endably arranged I took to be, and even now take to be, a demonstration of your fual decy, and good sense.
"But you reed wrong, when it came to that. You <df</dfn>were never a reer. You reed that there were in the bowl one hundred forty-four cubes, taking each cube, individually, from the bolag it, individually, in the sink, bearing in mind meanwhile the total that could be obtained by simple multiplication of the spaces irays. Thus having it, in this as in other matters, both ways! However you failed on this as on other occasions to sider the imponderables, in this instahe fact that I, unobserved by you, had put three of the cubes into my drink! Which I then drank! And that one had missed the bowl entirely and fallen into the sink! Aed ond for all! These events precluded sadly enough the number of cubes in the bowl adding up to a number corresponding to the number of spaces irays, proving also that there is no justice!
"What a defeat for you! What a victory for me! It was my first victory, I fear I went quite out of my head. I dragged you to the floor, among the ice cubes, which you had flung there in pique and chagrin, and forced you, with results that I sidered then, and sider now, to have been first rate. I thought I detected in you. . ."
But he could not tihis annou, from a surfeit of emotion.
The girl or woman, who had bee a sort of camp follower of the radio, made a practice during this period of sleeping in the former reception room underh the piano, which being a grand provided ample shelter. When she wished to traffic with Bloomsbury she would tap on the glass separating them with one finger, at other times she would, with her hands, make motions.
A typical versation of the period when the girl (or woman) was sleeping in the foyer was this:
"Tell me about your early life," she said.
"I was, in a sense, an All-Ameri boy," Bloomsbury replied.
"In what sense?"
"In the sehat I married," he said.
"Was it love?"
"It was love but it was only temporary."
"It didnt go on forever?"
"For less than a decade. As a matter of fact."
"But while it did go on. . ."
"It filled me with a somber and paradoxical joy."
"Coo!" she said. "It doesnt sound very Ameri to me."
"Coo," he said. "What kind of an expression is that?"
"I heard it in a movie," she said. "A rad Veidt movie."
"Well," he said, "its distrag."
This versation was felt by Bloomsbury to be not very satisfactory, however he bided his time, having if the truth were known no alternative. The word matriculate had engaged his attention, he pronou into the microphone for what seemed to him a period lohan normal, that is to say, in excess of a quarter-hour. He wondered whether or not tard this as signifit.
It was a fact that Bloomsbury, who had thought himself dispassiohus the words, the music, the slow turning over in his brain of events in the lives of him and her), was beginning to feel, at this time, disturbed. This was attributable perhaps to the effect, on him, of his radio talks, and also perhaps to the presence of the "fan," or listener, in the reception room. Or possibly it was something else entirely. In any case this disturbance was reflected, beyond a doubt, in the annous made by him in the days that, iably, followed.
One of these was:
"The details of our housekeeping, yours and mihe scuff uhe bed, the fug in the ers. I would, if I could, sigh to remember them. You planted prickly pear in the parlor floor, and whes came. . . Oh, you were a one! You veiled yourself from me, there were parts I could have and parts I couldnt have. And the rules would ge, I remember, in the middle of the game, I could never be sure which parts were allowed and whiot. Some days I couldnt have anything at all. Is it remarkable, then, that there has never been another? Except for a few? Who dont t?
"There has, I dont doubt, never been anything like it. The bed, your mothers bed, brought to our union with your mother in it, she lay like a sword between us. I had the gall to ask what you were thinking. It was one of those wonderful days of imperable silence. Well, I said, and the child? Up the child, you said, twasnt what I wanted anyway. What then did you want? I asked, and the child cried, its worst forebodings firmed. Pish, you said, nothing you could supply. Maybe, I said. Not bloody likely, you said. And where is it (the child) now? Gone, I dont doubt, away.
"Are you with me, old bush?
"Are you tuned in?
"A man came, in a hat. I was a little feather, and in addition to the hat and the feather there was a satchel. Jack, this is my husband, you said. And took him into the bedroom, and turhe key in the lock. What are you doing in there? I said, the door being locked, you aogether on the inside, me alone oside. Go away and mind your own silly business, you said, from behind the door. Yes, Jack said (from behind the do away and dohering people with things on their minds. Iive brute! you said, and Jack said, filthy cad! Some people, you said, and Jack said, the cheek of the thing. I watched at the door until nightfall, but could hear no more words, only sounds of a curious nature, such as grunts and moans, and sighs. Upon hearing these (through the door which was, as I say, locked), I immediately rushed to the attic to obtain our copy of Ideal Marriage, by Th. H. Van De Velde, M.D., to determine whether this situation was treated of therein. But it was not. I therefore abahe book auro my station outside the door, which remained (and indeed why not?) shut.
"At length the door opened, your mother emerged, looking as they say put out. But she had always taken your part as opposed to my part, therefore she said only that I was a on sneak. But, I said, what of those who even now sit in the bed? laughing and joking? Dont try to teach thy grandmother to chew coal, she said. I then became, if you believe it, melancholy. Could not we two skins, you and me, climb and g for all the days that were left? Which were not, after all, so very many days? Without the interpolation of such as Jack? And, no doubt, others yet to e?"
After pleting this annou and plag "The Star-Spangled Banner" ourntable, and a cup of soup oplate, Bloomsbury observed that the girl in the reception room was making motions with her hands, the burden of which was, that she wao speak to him.
"o Mr. Veidt my favorite star was Carmen Lambrosa," she said. "What is more, I am said to resemble her in some aspects."
"Which?" Bloomsbury asked with i. "Which aspects?"
"It was said of Carmen Lambrosa that had she just lived a little longer, and not died from alcohol, she would have beeop box office money-maker in the British Cameroons. Where such as she and me are appreciated."
"The top box office money-maker for what year?"
"The year is not important," she said. "What is important is the appreciation."
"I would say you favored her," Bloomsbury observed, "had I some knowledge of her peculiarities."
"Do I impress you?"
"In what way?"
"As a possible partner? Sexually I mean?"
"I havent sidered it," he said, "heretofore."
"They say Im sexy," she noted.
"I dont doubt it," he said. "I mean its plausible."
"I am yours," she said, "if you want me."
"Yes," he said, "theres the difficulty, making up my mind."
"You have only," she said, "to make the slightest gesture of acquiesce, such as a nod, a word, a cough, a cry, a kick, a crook, a giggle, a grin."
"Probably I would not enjoy it," he said, "now."
"Shall I take off my clothes?" she asked, making motions as if to do so.
With a siride, such as he had often seen practiced in the films, Bloomsbury was "at her side."
"Martha," he said, "old skin, why t you let the old days die? That were then days of anger, passion, and dignity, but are now, in the light of present standards, practices, and attitudes, days that are done?"
Upon these words from him, she began to weep. "You looked ied at first," she said (through her tears).
"It was kind of you to try it," he said. "Thoughtful. As a matter of fact, you were most appealing. Tempting, even. I was fooled for whole moments at a time. You look well in bullfighter pants."
"Thank you," she said. "You said I had a grand behind. You said that at least."
"And so you do."
"You t fet," she asked, "about Dudley?"
"Dudley?"
"Dudley who was my possible lover," she said.
"Before or after Jack?"
"Dudley who in fact broke up our ménage," she said, looking at him expetly.
"Well," he said, "I suppose."
"Tell me about the joy again."
"There was some joy," Bloomsbury said. "I t deny it."
"Was it really like you said? Somber and paradoxical?"
"It was all of that," he said gallantly, "then."
"Then!" she said.
There was a moment of silence during which they listehoughtfully, to "The Star-Spangled Banner" playing softly iher room behind them.
"Then we are, as they say, through?" she asked. "There is no hope for us?"
"None," he said. "That I know of."
"Youve found somebody you like better?"
"Its not that," he said. "That has nothing to do with it."
"Balls," she said. "I know you and your letchy ways."
"Goodbye," Bloomsbury said, auro the trol room, log the door behind him.
He then resumed broadcasting, with perhaps a tremor but no slaing in his resolve not to flog, as the expression runs, a dead horse. However the electripany, which had not been paid from the first to the last, refused at length to supply further current for the radio, in sequence of which the broadcasts, both words and music, ceased. That was the end of this period of Bloomsburys, as they say, life.
百度搜索 Come Back, Dr. Caligari 天涯 或 Come Back, Dr. Caligari 天涯在线书库 即可找到本书最新章节.