Read Ebook {PDF EPUB} Our Gang by Philip Roth Our Gang — Philip Roth. A ferocious political satire in the great tradition, Our Gang is Philip Roth’s brilliantly indignant response to the phenomenon of Richard M. Nixon. In the character of Trick E. Dixon, Roth shows us a man who outdoes the severest cynic, a peace-loving Quaker and believer in the sanctity of human life who doesn’t have a problem with killing unarmed women and children in self-defense. A master politician with an honest sneer, he finds himself battling the Boy Scouts, declaring war on Pro-Pornography Denmark, all the time trusting in the basic indifference of the voting public. Nixon. A TIGHTWAD JOHN KENNEDY refusing to buy his motorcade gas at a service station that doesn't give green stamps--such was one of the opening shots of liberal political satire in the 1960's. Vaughn Meader's impersonation of Kennedy on his album The First Family embodied two traditional characteristics of humorous caricature and parody. The imitation bore a superficial resemblance to its subject while the content made us aware that the impression was not the original. It felt good to laugh at a caricature that in its own ludicrous way reduced Kennedy to understandable human terms. Yet, we didn't need to feel that we were being disrespectful the very silliness of the situation assured us that we were laughing with not at the President. The style of anti-Nixon satire in the 1970's stems from less generous sentiments. Nixon's public unease, his failure to display any emotion besides anger, his continued harping on the traditional virtues of America, his self-conscious piety, and above all his continual deceitfulness have turned him into a caricature of himself in the eyes of those liberals who constitute an audience for political humor. Lyndon Johnson was the victim of anti- Southern bigotry which subjected him to jokes more cruel than politically pointed Nixon is the victim of his own past performances. Not only are his lies and errors etched upon the public record but his neuroses at least appear to be so obvious that he is often impossible to distinguish from a parody. That is the theory underlying two recent Nixon satires. I mile de Antonio's video production Milhouse and An Evening with Richard Nixon, a theater piece by Gore Vidal. These "comedies" do more than avoid disentangling the real Nixon from his popular caricature--the self-repressed, ambitious, and self-righteous liar. They construct a semi-comic figure entirely from Nixon's own words. In this sense, they are black comedy. Our laughter barely hides our disgust. It is the President of the United States, not an impersonator, who seems ludicrous. Our sense of his ineptitude only underscores our disbelief at his complete lack of honesty and dignity. Milhouse is a montage of film clips showing Nixon through his various campaigns, his opponents discussing his tactics, and journalists analyzing the ambitions and approach of the perpetual candidate. De Antonio begins with the lowpoint in Nixon's political career, his defeat by Pat Brown in the 1962 California gubernatorial contest. Moving back in time first to the Congressional race against Voorhis, Milhouse then explores Nixon's crises through the 1968 campaign. De Antonio's medium offers the natural advantage of displaying the real Nixon at work. We hear the nervous laugh during his "last press conference" in California. We see his melodramatic self righteouness in explaining that, unlike Kefauver, he has kept his wife off the payroll-- although Pat taught stenography. We suffer through Nixon's embarrassing attempts at humor. The "Checkers Speech" of 1952 is the most striking visual episode, delivered in response to reports of a secret Nixon slush-fund. The candidate makes no response to the charges, tries to account for his income and in what Darryl Zanuck reportedly called "the best performance I've ever seen," alleges that the only gift he's accepted is a cocker spaniel puppy for his daughters. "Regardless of what they say about it," he says, "we are going to keep it." Only twice does de Antonio make his point more directly than by implications arising from actual events. He contrasts Nixon's 1968 acceptance speech with Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech, which it mimics. Then, there are flashbacks in the middle of Nixon's "Let's win this one for Ike" exhortation to Pat O'Brien's "Win one for the Gipper" scene in Knute Rockne. The first is sad, the second, hilarious. Commentaries by various observers are devastatingly revealing. Voorhis describes phone calls to voters by Nixon campaign workers in which he was accused of joining the communist conspiracy. Joe McGinniss explains the desperate attempt by Murray Chotiner, Nixon's early campaign manager, to get a filmed endorsement by Eisenhower from the General's death-bed. An Evening with Richard Nixon operates along the same lines. Although the real Nixon is unseen, his actual words are continually heard. The exploration of his public lies is comprehensive and thoroughly annotated. Gore Vidal's play takes the form of a biography narrated by George Washington: the recorded version explains that only the dead can afford "the non-political luxury of truth." Eisenhower and Kennedy are along to offer comments, sometimes speaking in their words, sometimes in Vidal's. A host of other personalities offer their actual comments on Nixon. The result would be cruel, except that, as Vidal is pointing out, Nixon has only himself to blame. Vidal was apparently moved by Nixon's Six Crises, in which the former vice-president observed: "Voters quickly forget what a man says." The gems of which the editor reminds us--for Vidal is more an editor here than a playwright--are priceless. He brings back Nixon calling Eisenhower "complex and devious. in the best sense of those words," reporting that Ike made him feel "like the little boy caught with jam on his face," and denying that he ever made personalities a campaign issue. There are his speeches on Vietnam in direct contradiction to the facts, his announcement that the invasion of Cambodia was not an "invasion," his interference in the trials of Calley and Manson, lies about the economy, and attempts to cover his and Agnew's bungling. A particularly gruesome moment resurrected from his California campaign has Nixon trying to establish credibility as a state-oriented candidate. "I am running," he declares assuringly, "for Governor of the United States." Both works contrast with Philip Roth's Our Gang, no less powerful a satire, but more traditional in form. Our Gang reports the story of Trick E. Dixon, President of the United States, a man with the courage to declare, "the unborn have rights. recognized in law." Though the premise is an actual Nixon proclamation of 1971, the action thereafter is fantasy. The best testimony to Roth's satirical skills is the effectiveness with which his fiction captures the reality of Nixon and of the country's reaction to him. The story line is brilliantly absurd, beginning with Dixon's exulting over the perfect political pitch: support for the rights of fetuses. The Boy Scouts descend on Washington in unanticipated, but outraged protest. If Dixon supports the burn . They reason he most also favor me tercourse. How can they believe that, Trick E. wonders, after his lifelong attempt to disassociate himself "from anything remotely resembling a human body?" Like the other works, Roth's story evokes laughter which is sadistic, even self-righteous, but he helps us to understand the roots of liberal hatred for the image of Nixon. Trick E. Dixon epitomizes the most evil, calculating and self-serving ambition. He is totally amoral. When he is assassinated, thousands pour into Washington, each hoping to be arrested as the one who accomplished the feat. Satires like these serve both as art, in some sense, and as propaganda. Milhouse and An Evening with--Richard Nixon are important polemical satires; their aim is more to be part of an anti-Nixon arsenal than highly crafted film or literary works. Roth concentrates less on the literal reality of Nixon, instead capturing an essential human and political horror whose relevance will extend beyond the life of the Nixon administration. The amount of laughter evoked by such satire is hardly a satisfactory criterion for measuring its success. After all, a man responsible for dropping, on the average, the equivalent of two-and-a-half Hiroshimas in bomb tonnage over Vietnam every week for four years is not the sort of figure to provoke unmitigated hilarity. Rather, one must ask if these works are persuasive, whether they are aware of their own aims and capable of achieving them. In this sense, all three works succeed overwhelmingly, though only Roth's has the universality to endure as more than a dated artifact of political culture. The satire of the 1970's reflects the disillusionment of the last decade; it transcends the congenial buffoonery which has left Meader already forgotten. The success of these works inevitably leaves us to ponder the price in blood we have paid to achieve them. Mort Sahl, in 1968, summed up a feeling with which de Antonio, Vidal and Roth would assuredly agree. It would be easy for the satirists to make fun of a President Nixon, he said, "but please don't cast your votes for our sake." Want to keep up with breaking news? Subscribe to our email newsletter. Our Gang by Philip Roth. The Professor of Desire. The Dying Animal. Goodbye, Columbus · Letting Go. When She Was Good · Portnoy’s Complaint. Our Gang · The Great American Novel. My Life as a Man · Reading Myself and Others. To MILDRED MARTIN of Bucknell University, ROBERT MAURER now of Antioch College, and NAPIER WILT of the University of Chicago— three teachers to whom I remain particularly. grateful for the instruction and encouragement. … And I remember frequent Discourses with my Master concerning the Nature of Manhood, in other Parts of the World; having Occasion to talk of Lying, and false Representation, it was with much Difficulty that he comprehended what I meant; although he had otherwise a most acute Judgment. For he argued thus; That the Use of Speech was to make us understand one another, and to receive Information of Facts; now if anyone said the Thing which was not, these Ends were defeated; because I cannot properly be said to understand him; and I am so far from receiving Information, that he leaves me worse than in Ignorance; for I am led to believe a Thing Black when it is White, and Short when it is Long. And these were all the Notions he had concerning that Faculty of Lying, so perfectly well understood, and so universally practised among human Creatures. —Jonathan Swift, A Voyage to. the Houyhnhnms, 1726. … one ought to recognize that the present political chaos is connected with the decay of language, and that one can probably bring about some improvement by starting at the verbal end.… Political language—and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists—is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind. —George Orwell, “Politics and. the English Language,” 1946. 1 * Tricky Comforts a Troubled Citizen. 2 * Tricky Holds a Press Conference. 3 * Tricky Has Another Crisis; or, The Skull Session. 4 * Tricky Addresses the Nation. (The Famous “Something Is Rotten in the State of Denmark” Speech) 5 * The Assassination of Tricky. 6 * On the Comeback Trail; or Tricky in Hell. FROM PERSONAL AND RELIGIOUS BELIEFS I CONSIDER ABORTIONS AN UNACCEPTABLE FORM OF POPULATION CONTROL. FURTHERMORE, UNRESTRICTED ABORTION POLICIES, OR ABORTION ON DEMAND, I CANNOT SQUARE WITH MY PERSONAL BELIEF IN THE SANCTITY OF HUMAN LIFE-INCLUDING THE LIFE OF THE YET UNBORN. FOR, SURELY, THE UNBORN HAVE RIGHTS ALSO, RECOGNIZED IN LAW, RECOGNIZED EVEN IN PRINCIPLES EXPOUNDED BY THE UNITED NATIONS. SAN CLEMENTE, APRIL 3, 1971. Tricky Comforts a. CITIZEN: Sir, I want to congratulate you for coming out on April 3 for the sanctity of human life, including the life of the yet unborn. That required a lot of courage, especially in light of the November election results. TRICKY: Well, thank you. I know I could have done the popular thing, of course, and come out against the sanctity of human life. But frankly I’d rather be a one-term President and do what I believe is right than be a two-term President by taking an easy position like that. After all, I have got my conscience to deal with, as well as the electorate. CITIZEN: Your conscience, sir, is a marvel to us all. TRICKY: Thank you. CITIZEN: I wonder if I may ask you a question having to do with Lieutenant Calley and his conviction for killing twenty-two Vietnamese civilians at My Lai. TRICKY: Certainly. I suppose you are bringing that up as another example of my refusal to do the popular thing. CITIZEN: How’s that, sir? TRICKY: Well, in the wake of the public outcry against that conviction, the popular thing—the most popular thing by far—would have been for me, as Commander-in-Chief, to have convicted the twenty-two unarmed civilians of conspiracy to murder Lieutenant Calley. But if you read your papers, you’ll see I refused to do that, and chose only to review the question of his guilt, and not theirs. As I said, I’d rather be a one-term President. And may I make one thing more perfectly clear, while we’re on the subject of Vietnam? I am not going to interfere in the internal affairs of another country. If President Thieu has sufficient evidence and wishes to try those twenty-two My Lai villagers posthumously, according to some Vietnamese law having to do with ancestor worship, that is his business. But I assure you, I in no way intend to interfere with the workings of the Vietnamese system of justice. I think President Thieu, and the duly elected Saigon officials, can “hack” it alone in the law and order department. CITIZEN: Sir, the question that’s been troubling me is this. Inasmuch as I share your belief in the sanctity of human life— TRICKY: Good for you. I’ll bet you’re quite a football fan, too. CITIZEN: I am, sir. Thank you, sir … But inasmuch as I feel as you do about the unborn, I am seriously troubled by the possibility that Lieutenant Calley may have committed an abortion. I hate to say this, Mr. President, but I am seriously troubled when I think that one of those twenty-two Vietnamese civilians Lieutenant Calley killed may have been a pregnant woman. TRICKY: Now just one minute. We have a tradition in the courts of this land that a man is innocent until he is proven guilty. There were babies in that ditch at My Lai, and we know there were women of all ages but I have not seen a single document that suggests the ditch at My Lai contained a pregnant woman. CITIZEN: But what if, sir—what if one of the twenty-two was a pregnant woman? Suppose that were to come to light in your judicial review of the lieutenant’s conviction. In that you personally believe in the sanctity of human life, including the life of the yet unborn, couldn’t such a fact seriously prejudice you against Lieutenant Calley’s appeal? I have to admit that as an opponent of abortion, it would have a profound effect upon me. TRICKY: Well, it’s very honest of you to admit it. But as a trained lawyer, I think I might be able to go at the matter in a somewhat less emotional manner. First off, I would have to ask whether Lieutenant Calley was aware of the fact that the woman in question was pregnant before he killed her. Clearly, if she was not yet “showing,” I think you would in all fairness have to conclude that the lieutenant could have had no knowledge of her pregnancy, and thus, in no sense of the word, would he have committed an abortion. CITIZEN: What if she told him she was pregnant? T RICKY: Good question. She might indeed have tried to tell him. But in that Lieutenant Calley is an American who speaks only English, and the My Lai villager is a Vietnamese who speaks only Vietnamese, there could have been no possible means of verbal communication. And as for sign language, I don’t believe we can hang a man for failing to understand what must surely have been the gestures of a hysterical, if not deranged, woman. CITIZEN: No, that wouldn’t be fair, would it. TRICKY: In short then, if the woman was not “showing,” Lieutenant Calley could not be said to have engaged in an unacceptable form of population control, and it would be possible for me to square what he did with my personal belief in the sanctity of human life, including the life of the yet unborn. CITIZEN: But, sir, what if she was “showing”? TRICKY: Well then, as good lawyers we would have to ask another question. Namely: did Lieutenant Calley believe the woman to be pregnant, or did he, mistakenly, in the heat of the moment, assume that she was just stout? It’s all well and good for us to be Monday Morning My Lai Quarterbacks, you know, but there’s a war going on out there, and you cannot always expect an officer rounding up unarmed civilians to be able to distinguish between an ordinary fat Vietnamese woman and one who is in the middle, or even the late, stages of pregnancy. Now if the pregnant ones would wear maternity clothes, of course, that would be a great help to our boys. But in that they don’t, in that all of them seem to go around all day in their pajamas, it is almost impossible to tell the men from the women, let alone the pregnant from the nonpregnant. Inevitably then—and this is just one of those unfortunate things about a war of this kind—there is going to be confusion on this whole score of who is who out there. I understand that we are doing all we can to get into the hamlets with American-style maternity clothes for the pregnant women to wear so as to make them more distinguishable to the troops at the massacres, but, as you know, these people have their own ways and will not always consent to do even what is clearly in their own interest. And, of course, we have no intention of forcing them. That, after all, is why we are in Vietnam in the first place-to give these people the right to choose their own way of life, in accordance with their own beliefs and customs. CITIZEN: In other words, sir, if Lieutenant Calley assumed the woman was simply fat, and killed her under that assumption, that would still square with your personal belief in the sanctity of human life, including the life of the yet unborn. TRICKY: Absolutely. If I find that he assumed she was simply overweight, I give you my utmost assurance, I will in no way be prejudiced against his appeal. CITIZEN: But, sir, suppose, just suppose, that he did know she was pregnant. TRICKY: Well, we are down to the heart of the matter now, aren’t we? CITIZEN: I’m afraid so, sir. TRICKY: Yes, we are down to this issue of “abortion on demand,” which, admittedly, is totally unacceptable to me, on the basis of my personal and religious beliefs. CITIZEN: Abortion on demand? TRICKY: If this Vietnamese woman presented herself to Lieutenant Calley for abortion … let’s assume, for the sake of argument, she was one of those girls who goes out and has a good time and then won’t own up to the consequences; unfortunately, we have them here just as they have them over there—the misfits, the bums, the tramps, the few who give the many a bad name … but if this woman presented herself to Lieutenant Calley for abortion, with some kind of note, say, that somebody had written for her in English, and Lieutenant Calley, let’s say, in the heat and pressure of the moment, performed the abortion, during the course of which the woman died … CITIZEN: Yes. I think I follow you so far. TRICKY: Well, I just have to wonder if the woman isn’t herself equally as guilty as the lieutenant—if she is not more so. I just have to wonder if this isn’t a case for the Saigon courts, after all. Let’s be perfectly frank: you cannot die of an abortion, if you don’t go looking for the abortion to begin with. If you have not gotten yourself in an abortion predicament to begin with. Surely that’s perfectly clear. CITIZEN: It is, sir. TRICKY: Consequently, even if Lieutenant Calley did participate in a case of “abortion on demand,” it would seem to me, speaking strictly as a lawyer, mind you, that there are numerous extenuating factors to consider, not the least of which is the attempt to perform a surgical operation under battlefield conditions. I would think that more than one medic has been cited for doing less. CITIZEN: Cited for what? TRICKY: Bravery, of course. CITIZEN: But… but, Mr. President, what if it wasn’t “abortion on demand”? What if Lieutenant Calley gave her an abortion without her demanding one, or even asking for one—or even wanting one? TRICKY: As an outright form of population control, you mean? CITIZEN: Well, I was thinking more along the lines of an outright form of murder. TRICKY (reflecting): Well, of course, that is a very iffy question, isn’t it? What we lawyers call a hypothetical instance—isn’t it? If you will remember, we are only supposing there to have been a pregnant woman in that ditch at My Lai to begin with. Suppose there wasn’t a pregnant woman in that ditch—which, in fact, seems from all evidence to have been the case. We are then involved in a totally academic discussion. CITIZEN: Yes, sir. If so, we are. TRICKY: Which doesn’t mean it hasn’t been of great value to me, nonetheless. In my review of Lieutenant Calley’s case, I will now be particularly careful to inquire whether there is so much as a single shred of evidence that one of those twenty-two in that ditch at My Lai was a pregnant woman. And if there is—if I should find in the evidence against the lieutenant anything whatsoever that I cannot square with my personal belief in the sanctity of human life, including the life of the yet unborn, I will disqualify myself as a judge and pass the entire matter on to the Vice President. CITIZEN: Thank you, Mr. President. I think we can all sleep better at night knowing that. MR. ASSLICK: Sir, as regards your San Dementia statement of April 3, the discussion it provoked seems now to have centered on your unequivocal declaration that you are a firm believer in the rights of the unborn. Many seem to believe that you are destined to be to the unborn what Martin Luther King was to the black people of America, and the late Robert F. Charisma to the disadvantaged chicanos and Puerto Ricans of the country. There are those who say that your San Dementia statement will go down in the history books alongside Dr. King’s famous “I have a dream” address. Do you find these comparisons apt? TRICKY: Well, of course, Mr. Asslick, Martin Luther King was a very great man, as we all must surely recognize now that he is dead. He was a great leader in the struggle for equal rights for his people, and yes, I do believe he’ll find a place in history. But of course we must not forget he was not the President of the United States, as I am, empowered by the Constitution, as I am; and this is an important distinction to bear in mind. Working within the Constitution I think I will be able to accomplish far more for the unborn of this entire nation than did Dr. King working outside the Constitution for the born of a single race. This is meant to be no criticism of Dr. King, but just a simple statement of fact. Now, of course I am well aware that Dr. King died a martyr’s tragic death—so let me then make one thing very clear to my enemies and the enemies of the unborn: let there be no mistake about it, what they did to Martin Luther King, what they did to Robert F. Charisma and to John F. Charisma before him, great Americans all, is not for a moment going to deter me from engaging in the struggle that lies ahead. I will not be intimidated by extremists or militants or violent fanatics from bringing justice and equality to those who live in the womb. And let me make one thing more perfectly clear: I am not just talking about the rights of the fetus. I am talking about the microscopic embryos as well. If ever there was a group in this country that was “disadvantaged,” in the sense that they are utterly without representation or a voice in our national government, it is not the blacks or the Puerto Ricans or the hippies or what-have-you, all of whom have their spokesmen, but these infinitesimal creatures up there on the placenta. You know, we all watch our TV and we see the demonstrators and we see the violence, because, unfortunately, that is the kind of thing that makes the news. But how many of us realize that throughout this great land of ours, there are millions upon millions of embryos going through the most complex and difficult changes in form and structure, and all this they accomplish without waving signs for the camera and disrupting traffic and throwing paint and using foul language and dressing in outlandish clothes. Yes, Mr. Daring. MR. DARING: But what about those fetuses, sir, that the Vice President has labeled “troublemakers”? I believe he was referring specifically to those who start in kicking around the fifth month. Do you agree that they are “malcontents” and “ingrates”? And if so, what measures do you intend to take to control them? TRICKY: Well, first off, Mr. Daring, I believe we are dealing here with some very fine distinctions of a legal kind. Now, fortunately (impish endearing smile) I happen to be a lawyer and have the kind of training that enables me to make these fine distinctions. (Back to serious business) I think we have to be very very careful here—and I am sure the Vice President would agree with me—to distinguish between two kinds of activity: kicking in the womb, to which the Vice President was specifically referring, and moving in the womb. You see, the Vice President did not say, despite what you may have heard on television, that all fetuses who are active in the womb are troublemakers. Nobody in this Administration believes that. In fact, I have just today spoken with both Attorney General Malicious and with Mr. Heehaw at the FBI, and we are all in agreement that a certain amount of movement in the womb, after the fifth month, is not only inevitable but desirable in a normal pregnancy. Our Gang. A ferocious political satire in the great tradition, Our Gang is Philip Roth’s brilliantly indignant response to the phenomenon of Richard M. Nixon. In the character of Trick E. Dixon, Roth shows us a man who outdoes the severest cynic, a peace-loving Quaker and believer in the sanctity of human life who doesn’t have a problem with killing unarmed women and children in self-defense. A master politician with an honest sneer, he finds himself battling the Boy Scouts, declaring war on Pro-Pornography Denmark, all the time trusting in the basic indifference of the voting public. Другие книги автора Philip Roth. Portnoy's Complaint n. [after Alexander Portnoy (1933-)]: A disorder in which strongly-felt ethical and altruistic impulses are perpetually warring with extreme sexual longings, often of a perverse nature. Portnoy's Complaint tells the tale of young Jewish lawyer Alexander Portnoy and his scandalous sexual confessions to his psychiatrist. As narrated by Portnoy, he takes the reader on a journey through his childhood to adolescence to present day while articulating his sexual desire, frustration and neurosis in shockingly candid ways. ‘Swede’ Levov is living the American dream. He glides through life sustained by his devoted family, his demanding yet highly rewarding (and lucrative) business, his sporting prowess, his good looks. He is the embodiment of thriving, post-war America, land of liberty and hope. Until the sunny day in 1968, when the Swede’s bountiful American luck deserts him. The tragedy springs from devastatingly close to home. His adored daughter, Merry, has become a stranger to him, a fanatical teenager capable of an outlandishly savage act of political terrorism that plunges the Levov family into the political mayhem of sixties America, and drags them into the underbelly of a seemingly ascendant society. When Philip Roth Switched Publishers, Drama Ensued. In the year or so between Our Gang (1971) and The Breast (1972), there was an important change for Philip Roth but one that marked a pattern: he switched publishers, something he would continue to do throughout his career. Holt, Rinehart and Winston were more receptive to his demands for larger advances than Random House, which, frankly, found him too expensive. After Portnoy , in fact, Roth never earned back his advances and did not have a bestseller again until The Plot Against America in 2004. But Roth had a fan in Aaron Asher, who was then an editor at Holt. They had both been at the University of Chicago and likely crossed paths several times in the world of New York publishing, and when Roth began to question his relationship with Random House, initiated by his disappointment with their response to his financial demands as he was completing Our Gang , he began to consider alternatives. A story in the Book of the Month Club Newsletter entitled “The Letting Go of Random House by Philip Roth,” reported the break, although the major players disputed the narrative. What essentially precipitated the shift was Roth’s disappointment with his agent Candida Donadio. A note dated 7 February 1972 from his lawyer Arthur J. Klein to Epstein announces that Roth’s agency representation is over. Either Klein or his partner, Martin Garbus, will now negotiate and/or advise Roth. Initiating the break with Random House was a disagreement over a new paperback contract with Bantam in October 1971. Garbus was particularly worried that Roth would lose money in the event that a paperback came out prior to six months after the date of a hardback publication. On 14 April 1972, Roth, now representing himself, detailed submission and royalty requirements for two new books to Epstein and Random House following Our Gang : The Breast and The Great American Novel . If their best offer was acceptable, he would instruct Klein to draw up a contract. Importantly, he wanted each title dealt with separately. If the terms were not acceptable, he would go elsewhere. For The Breast , he seeks an advance of $225,000; for The Great American Novel , $236,250. And for both, he wants to retain all paperback rights. An offer in response on 24 April from Epstein caused Roth to reconsider slightly reduced figures, but for hardback rights only. He was pressured to make a decision in two days. Roth declined the counteroffer. To Bennett Cerf of Random House he would explain that despite the failure to reach an agreement, his time with the publishing company had been successful and in almost all respects happy. He admitted that he would miss Epstein’s editorial acumen but believed he would do better financially elsewhere. An exchange with Donald Klopfer was more pointed and personal: he had known Klopfer since meeting him through Styron in Rome in 1960. On 20 May 1972 from Cornwall Bridge, Roth wrote Klopfer: Your generosity and charm won me over back in Doney’s on the Via Veneta back in 1960, and . . . each time we were together you seemed to me the same kind gentleman one could rely upon and trust… Your presence at Random House was always a comfort to me. Klopfer’s response of 27 June, after Roth’s break with Random House, expresses unhappiness with the decision: Obviously, I was terribly disappointed that we couldn’t come to an understanding with you about your two new books. I received three copies of the Book of the Month Club Report while I was in Rome. I must say that I think Aaron handled it in a dignified and honest way, but I was really irritated by your lawyer’s statement. It showed a complete lack of knowledge of the publishing business, which I am sure is the case. . . I believe that the offer we made was a generous one, and I am sorry you decided to split yourself up as you did—but I do wish you luck. I hope you will sit down and write many more good books, and not become too bewitched by the money. Roth, slightly offended by the story in the Book of the Month Club Newsletter and Klopfer’s closing phrase, replied on 29 June that he was upset by Garbus’s quoted comments about negotiations and explained to Klopfer that he did not turn to lawyers for advice concerning his two books, nor was he driven entirely by money. Klopfer’s response of 10 July tried to defuse the comment on money and gesture toward a friendship of some sort. Asher’s own statement about the affair, which preoccupied New York publishing gossip for several weeks (anticipating much later gossip, when Roth signed with Simon and Schuster for hefty fees negotiated by his new agent, Andrew Wylie, in 1989), was professional. Attempting to end rumors that Roth left Random House for Holt only for the money, Asher explained that negotiations with Random House broke down after they could not agree on certain demands from Roth. He would have liked to have stayed, but they couldn’t agree. He and Roth had known each other for a dozen years (he, too, graduated the University of Chicago, with a BA in 1949 and an MA in 1952), so it was almost natural that Roth thought of Holt, which quickly met his demands. But he would have gone elsewhere if necessary. He did not auction his work, Asher emphasized. Garbus, as quoted in the Book of the Month Club Newsletter , said the new publisher had only the hardcover rights; Roth had complete control over the paperback rights and all other rights, which is what he wanted in the first instance (although no mention of the higher advance was cited). The money is in the paperback business, Garbus went on to say, “so why shouldn’t the writer get his fair share?” These are likely the remarks Roth was uncomfortable with. Ironically, perhaps, My Life as a Man was dedicated to both Aaron Asher and Jason Epstein, in that order, which is itself telling. Attempting to end rumors that Roth left Random House for Holt only for the money, Asher explained that negotiations with Random House broke down after they could not agree on certain demands from Roth. An incident from this period confirms Roth’s growing pleasure with what his friend, the novelist Alan Lelchuk, called “American mischief,” the title of his 1973 novel. It also shows how he defended young writers when bullied or abused. The incident occurred in late September 1972, brought about by a scene in Lelchuk’s forthcoming novel concerning the fictional murder of Norman Mailer—shot in the ass with his pants down in his hotel room. The title of the draft account of the encounter is “The Godfather of the Literary World & a Young Offender.” It began with Roger Straus, Lelchuk’s publisher at Farrar, Straus and Giroux, receiving a telegram from Mailer asking to meet to discuss a reported scene in Lelchuk’s forthcoming novel where he is assassinated. Straus contacted Cy Rembar, Mailer’s lawyer, to negotiate, but Mailer persisted with his complaint, although FSG’s lawyers felt it was “Ok” to use Mailer’s name since he was a public figure. Lelchuk removed the names of other intellectual figures but wanted to keep the high-profile Mailer. Indeed, he felt betrayed by FSG for even acknowledging Mailer’s request. In the novel, the protagonist, Lenny Pincus, reading Nietzsche at Widener Library at Harvard—Mailer was to lecture at the school the next day—follows the argument of Mailer’s White Negro , that he must knock off the arrogant, pushy writer, which is also knocking off the institution of literature. In questions after his fictional lecture, Mailer exclaims, “Show me a red-blooded American boy who reads books and I’ll show you a potential murderer.” Lenny Pincus fulfills that claim. A meeting was scheduled, where Mailer’s lawyer, Rembar (who had successfully won a case for Grove Press suing the U.S. Post Office for confiscating copies of Lady Chatterley’s Lover ) suggested that Lelchuk bring Roth as a second. Roth was invited partly because he wrote a critical preview of the novel in Esquire from which Mailer supposedly learned of the scene, although a professor at the University of Pennsylvania, Robert Lucid, who was planning an anthology of fictional portraits of real authors, had also written to reveal the scene to Mailer. Roth was an artful ally not only of Lelchuk but of Roger Straus: he knew of Straus’s anger in 1970 over the slight to Portnoy’s Complaint when it failed to win the National Book Award. Within a year Roth would join Farrar, Straus and Giroux. In a parallel incident at the time, Roth contradicted a false report of his death. One fear and reason for the Lelchuk-Mailer meeting, and hoped-for removal of the murder scene, was that it might encourage real assassins to attack Mailer. Lelchuk’s own lawyer would accompany him since his interest was literary, “not pugilistic and I wanted the referee to be a legal one.” Lelchuk had prepared for the meeting by reading Mailer on censorship in his Presidential Papers and Advertisements for Myself . Rembar had even written an introduction to a book on obscenity and censorship, so Lelchuk was convinced that ethically and legally he was right in his literary murder of Mailer, shot by a radical in the buttocks with his pants down. The meeting occurred on 29 September 1972 on the thirty-sixth floor of the New York law office of Lelchuk’s lawyer, Martin Garbus. Roth, Lelchuk, Mailer, Robert Giroux (an FSG editor), Georges Borchardt (Lelchuk’s agent), and others were present. Mailer was in a suit but with no tie and his shirt open and “wild hair.” Lelchuk, defending his first book, wore a sport coat and tie and carried a briefcase. An account of the gathering published in the New York Times of 18 October reversed the dress, with Mailer in a pin-striped suit and Lelchuk the bohemian and “bearded bachelor.” (The thirty- four-year-old Lelchuk, then teaching at Brandeis, was, in fact, bearded at the time.) At Roth’s suggestion, Lelchuk would treat the encounter as if he were teaching a class. Roth was an artful ally not only of Lelchuk but of Roger Straus: he knew of Straus’s anger in 1970 over the slight to Portnoy’s Complaint when it failed to win the National Book Award. Mailer attacked the moment Lelchuk and Roth were seated: “I’d like to beat you two guys to death,” he shouted. “Understand me?” Roth angrily responded, according to Lelchuk’s account, with “Don’t you pull that stuff! You’re not going to bully me or Alan with that violent talk! Got that?” Garbus tried to establish some order. (Pete Hamill, the journalist, was to be Mailer’s second, but he didn’t show.) Mailer then went after Roth as if he, not Lelchuk, had written the scene. It turned out later that Mailer had not read Roth’s Esquire piece, nor the book in galleys. Rembar, Mailer’s cousin, they later learned, then tried a different tack: just remove the scene. Garbus cried censorship, supported by Roth. Mailer backed down, but for the next two hours there was a mixture of “Hemingwayesque profundities and Hollywood poses, and all the way through a stream of physical threats.” Mailer was convinced that either Roth or Philip Rahv put Lelchuk up to writing the offensive scene, encouraging would-be assassins and holding him up to ridicule. Lelchuk responded by claiming that Mailer always provoked people to an adversarial, combative, and even murderous stance toward himself and referred to him as the “Muhammad Ali of novelists.” But Mailer could not separate criticism from ridicule, offering new antagonisms toward Styron, Bellow, and, of course, Roth, who had suggested using Mailer’s own words against him. Mailer responded by stating that the depiction of his death was more fitting for Roth than for Mailer. Taking his pants down in order to survive was the way Mailer would depict Roth behaving if Mailer were writing the scene. “Obviously,” Lelchuk wrote, “I didn’t know the first thing about Mailer himself.” Lelchuk again argued that it was his protagonist, Lenny Pincus, who acted with dishonor in the scene, not Mailer. Twice Mailer said he wasn’t interested in pursuing any legal action. In fact, Lelchuk felt he met not Mailer the defender of freedom but a fake, an imposter: “Beneath the studied rage, the venal bullying . . . was an ordinary man whose feelings were hurt.” The meeting ended as it had started, with threats, Mailer in a Godfather-like tone whispering, “Revenge is a dish tasted best when cold.” From Philip Roth: A Counterlife by Ira Nadel. Copyright © 2021 by Ira Nadel and published by Oxford University Press. All rights reserved. The Philip Roth Society. Goodbye, Columbus and Five Short Stories . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1959. Letting Go . New York: Random House, 1962. When She Was Good . New York: Random House, 1967. Portnoy’s Complaint . New York: Random House, 1969. Our Gang (Starring Tricky and His Friends) . New York: Random House, 1971. The Breast . New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1972. The Great American Novel . New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1973. My Life as a Man . New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1974. The Professor of Desire . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1977. The Ghost Writer . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979. A Philip Roth Reader . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1980. Zuckerman Unbound . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1981. The Anatomy Lesson . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1983. Zuckerman Bound: A Trilogy and Epilogue . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1985. The Counterlife . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1986. The Facts: A Novelist’s Autobiography . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux,1988. Deception: A Novel . New York: Simon and Schuster, 1990. Patrimony: A True Story . New York: Simon and Schuster, 1991. Operation Shylock: A Confession . New York: Simon and Schuster, 1993. Sabbath’s Theater . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1995. The Prague Orgy . New York: Vintage, 1996. (First published in Zuckerman Bound, 1985.) American Pastoral . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997. I Married a Communist . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1998. The Human Stain . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2000. The Dying Animal . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2001. The Plot Against America . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2004. Everyman . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2006. Exit Ghost . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2007. Indignation . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2008. The Humbling . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2009. Nemesis . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2010. Reading Myself and Others . New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1975. Shop Talk: A Writer and His Colleagues and Their Work . Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2001. Library of America. Novels and Short Stories 1959-1962: Goodbye, Columbus & Five Short Stories and Letting Go . New York: Library of America, 2005. Novels 1967-1972: When She Was Good, Portnoy’s Complaint, Our Gang, and The Breast . New York: Library of America, 2005. Novels 1973-1977: The Great American Novel, My Life as a Man, and The Professor of Desire . New York: Library of America, 2006. Zuckerman Bound: A Trilogy and an Epilogue 1979-1985: The Ghost Writer, Zuckerman Unbound, The Anatomy Lesson, and The Prague Orgy . New York: Library of America, 2007. Novels and Other Narratives 1986-1991: The Counterlife, The Facts, Deception, Patrimony . New York: Library of America, 2008. Novels 1993-1995: Operation Shylock, Sabbath’s Theater . New York: Library of America, 2010. The American Trilogy (American Pastoral, I Married a Communist, and The Human Stain) . New York: Library of America, 2011. Uncollected Stories and Drama. “Philosophy, Or Something Like That.” Et Cetera May 1952: 5, 16. “The Box of Truths.” Et Cetera October 1952: 10-12. “The Fence.” Et Cetera May 1953: 18-23. “Armando and the Fraud.” Et Cetera October 1953: 21-32. “The Final Delivery of Mr. Thorn.” Et Cetera May 1954: 20-28. “The Day It Snowed.” Chicago Review 8 (1954): 34-45. “The Contest for Aaron Gold.” Epoch 5-6 (1955): 37-50. “Heard Melodies Are Sweeter.” Esquire Aug. 1958: 58. “Expect the Vandals.” Esquire Dec. 1958: 208-28. “The Love Vessel.” The Dial 1 (1959): 41-68. “The Good Girl.” Cosmopolitan May 1960: 98-103. “The Mistaken.” American Judaism 10 (1960): 10. “Novotny’s Pain.” New Yorker 27 Oct. 1962: 46-56. “Psychoanalytic Special.” Esquire Nov. 1963: 106. “An Actor’s Life for Me.” Playboy Jan. 1964: 84-86, 228-35. “The National Pastime.” [a one-act play] Cavalier May 1965: 16+. “On the Air.” New American Review 10 (1970): 7-49. “His Mistress’s Voice.” Partisan Review 53 (1986): 155-176. “Positive Thinking on Pennsylvania Avenue.” Chicago Review 11 (1957): 21-24. “Mrs. Lindbergh, Mr. Ciardi, and the Teeth and Claws of the Civilized World.” Chicago Review 11 (1957): 72-76. “The Kind of Person I Am.” New Yorker 29 Nov. 1958: 173-178. “Recollections from Beyond the Last Rope.” Harper’s July 1959: 42-48. “American Fiction.” Commentary Sept. 1961: 248-52. (Letters about “Writing American Fiction” and Roth’s response) “Iowa: A Very Far Country Indeed.” Esquire Dec. 1962: 19-32. “Philip Roth Talks to Teens.” Seventeen April 1963: 170. “Second Dialogue in Israel.” Congress Bi-Weekly 30 (1963): 4-85. “Philip Roth Tells about When She Was Good.” Literary Guild Magazine July 1967: unpaginated. “Introduction: Milan Kundera, Edward and God.” American Poetry Review March/April 1974: 5. “Introduction: Jiri Weil, Two Stories about Nazis and Jews.” American Poetry ReviewSept./Oct. 1974: 22. “In Search of Kafka and Other Answers.” New York Times Book Review 15 Feb. 1976: 6-7. “Oh, Ma, Let Me Join the National Guard.” New York Times 24 Aug. 1988: A25. “‘I Couldn’t Restrain Myself.’” New York Times Book Review 21 June 1992: 73. “A Bit of Jewish Mischief.” New York Times Book Review 7 March 1993: 1+. “Juice or Gravy? How I Met My Fate in a Cafeteria.” New York Times Book Review 18 Sept. 1994: 3+. “Rescue from Philosophy.” New Republic 10 June 1957: 22. (On the film Funny Face ) “I Don’t Want to Embarrass You.” New Republic 15 July 1957: 21-22. (On Edward R. Murrow’s Person to Person ) “The Hurdles of Satire.” New Republic 9 Sept. 1957: 22. (On Sid Caesar’s Comedy Hour .) “Coronation on Channel Two.” New Republic 23 Sept. 1957: 21. (On the Miss America Pageant) “Films as Sociology.” New Republic 21 Oct. 1957: 21-22. (On the films Something of Value and Hatful of Rain ) “The Proper Study of Show Business.” New Republic 23 Dec. 1957: 21. (On the films Pal Joey and Les Girls ) “Channel X: Two Plays on the Race Conflict.” New York Review of Books 28 May 1964: 10-13. (On James Baldwin’s Blues for Mr. Charlie and LeRoi Jones’s Dutchman ) “Seasons of Discontent.” New York Times Book Review 7 Nov. 1965: 2. (On Robert Brustein’s Season of Discontent )