User:Namir Riptide/sandbox - Revision history

Namir Riptide: /* SO WHO'S NOT MAD? */random dashes + coding fix

2019-04-21T18:21:58Z

SO WHO'S NOT MAD?: random dashes + coding fix

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Namir Riptide: /* SO WHO'S NOT MAD? */coding additions

2019-04-21T18:05:22Z

SO WHO'S NOT MAD?: coding additions

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Namir Riptide: /* SO WHO'S NOT MAD? */ worked on marking up

2019-04-21T17:45:05Z

SO WHO'S NOT MAD?: worked on marking up

← Older revision		Revision as of 13:45, 21 April 2019
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	I suggest that the play appeals generally to those who have violent leftist notions and yet, like the author, think socialism a failure. In madness, one can combine such ideas.		I suggest that the play appeals generally to those who have violent leftist notions and yet, like the author, think socialism a failure. In madness, one can combine such ideas.
	However, the interest in madness presently expressed, and by a good many talented and intelligent people, may go far beyond the need to conciliate political leftism with despair of socialism. The frantic, the frenetic, the wild and outrageous are continually being stated as positive values nowadays, in literature, in the films, and on the stage. I recently saw an extremely clever French film in which the goal of the hero—he achieves it--is schizophrenia. The film is light, intelligent, ironical, and in that way pays tribute to French rationality, but it is an ironic tribute, for the real appeal of the film is in the figure of its protagonist finally at home in the white walls of an asylum. And if one correlates with a film of this kind, the various expressions of hysteria, irrational violence, homosexual hatred, and sheer nuttiness regularly ex- pressed by our youngest writers, one has to look more deeply into what may have caused or promoted what now amounts to a powerful trend.		However, the interest in madness presently expressed, and by a good many talented and intelligent people, may go far beyond the need to conciliate political leftism with despair of socialism. The frantic, the frenetic, the wild and outrageous are continually being stated as positive values nowadays, in literature, in the films, and on the stage. I recently saw an extremely clever French film in which the goal of the hero—he achieves it--is schizophrenia. The film is light, intelligent, ironical, and in that way pays tribute to French rationality, but it is an ironic tribute, for the real appeal of the film is in the figure of its protagonist finally at home in the white walls of an asylum. And if one correlates with a film of this kind, the various expressions of hysteria, irrational violence, homosexual hatred, and sheer nuttiness regularly ex- pressed by our youngest writers, one has to look more deeply into what may have caused or promoted what now amounts to a powerful trend.
	I have in mind The White Negro, that wacky though powerful essay by ~~<ref>~~Norman Mailer~~</ref>~~, in which our genial friend and Marxist gone haywire singled out psychopaths as the bearers of future values. In this piece, he also defended the courage of some tough young kids who beat up a weak old man. Now there was a time when courage was understood very differently. Not a few French knights in feudal times thought it unmanly to engage in combat when not outnumbered. I also have in mind Mailer's recent novel, <~~ref~~>The American Dream</~~ref~~>, in which the protagonist, Rojack, kills his wife and then immediately afterwards buggers their maid. I must note here that the deed is a variant of one in Jean Genet's Querelle de Brest. In that novel the young sailor Querelle, having killed a man, feels that he ought to pay for his crime, and has himself buggered by the local pimp. Thus buggered, Querelle becomes a marked man, an enculé, and for all eternity. So Querelle does not entirely escape the mark of Cain. Except that the mark Cain had to bear on his forehead is kept hidden by Genet's hero in his ass. Now Mailer's American hero, who kills as if Cain had never existed, appears, after his crime, like an innocent abroad; he has no feeling of guilt, no need for expiation. And how was Mailer's novel understood? When Philip Rahv attacked the book insofar as its hero is without any kind of con- science, his objection was met with derision, as if it were absurd to judge a fictional character morally! As if the best of our critics had not done just that, and ever since the novel came into being.		I have in mind The White Negro, that wacky though powerful essay by [[Norman Mailer]], in which our genial friend and Marxist gone haywire singled out psychopaths as the bearers of future values. In this piece, he also defended the courage of some tough young kids who beat up a weak old man. Now there was a time when courage was understood very differently. Not a few French knights in feudal times thought it unmanly to engage in combat when not outnumbered. I also have in mind Mailer's recent novel, <i>[[The American Dream]]</i>, in which the protagonist, Rojack, kills his wife and then immediately afterwards buggers their maid. I must note here that the deed is a variant of one in Jean Genet's <i>Querelle de Brest</i>. In that novel the young sailor Querelle, having killed a man, feels that he ought to pay for his crime, and has himself buggered by the local pimp. Thus buggered, Querelle becomes a marked man, an enculé, and for all eternity. So Querelle does not entirely escape the mark of Cain. Except that the mark Cain had to bear on his forehead is kept hidden by Genet's hero in his ass. Now Mailer's American hero, who kills as if Cain had never existed, appears, after his crime, like an innocent abroad; he has no feeling of guilt, no need for expiation. And how was Mailer's novel understood? When Philip Rahv attacked the book insofar as its hero is without any kind of con- science, his objection was met with derision, as if it were absurd to judge a fictional character morally! As if the best of our critics had not done just that, and ever since the novel came into being.

	Or take Leslie Fiedler's article, The Mutants, published in the Fall 1965 Partisan Review. I heard Mr. Fiedler give that essay as a lecture at a conference at Rutger's University and so I can supply some additional data which may throw light on Mr. Fiedler's purposes; these, from his essay as published, may be unclear. In his essay, and also in his lecture, Mr. Fiedler quoted a contemporary kid as having said to him: "Freud is a fink." Now what interested Mr. Fiedler was not whether this judgment was true or false. What interested him was that a kid should say this, and I submit that if you look at Mr. Fiedler's article you will see that he is inclined to accept the kid's judgment. Why? At Rutgers Mr. Fiedler said in so many words, though I quote from memory—but there is a transcript of the discussion which may be checked—: "I myself have become as tired of the rationalism of Freud as of Marx." Is Freud then really a fink? And why did the young man Fiedler cited say so? The answer to this is not hard to find. Norman Brown, who has had a very great impact on many of our very young men, says in his now famous book that the insistence of many conventional American males on satisfying women sexually is a form of repression stemming from Freud, and something to be rejected in the name of freedom. So even fucking, in other words, is to Mr. Brown and to the young enlightened by him a bit too classical, just too upstanding)		Or take Leslie Fiedler's article, The Mutants, published in the Fall 1965 Partisan Review. I heard Mr. Fiedler give that essay as a lecture at a conference at Rutger's University and so I can supply some additional data which may throw light on Mr. Fiedler's purposes; these, from his essay as published, may be unclear. In his essay, and also in his lecture, Mr. Fiedler quoted a contemporary kid as having said to him: "Freud is a fink." Now what interested Mr. Fiedler was not whether this judgment was true or false. What interested him was that a kid should say this, and I submit that if you look at Mr. Fiedler's article you will see that he is inclined to accept the kid's judgment. Why? At Rutgers Mr. Fiedler said in so many words, though I quote from memory—but there is a transcript of the discussion which may be checked—: "I myself have become as tired of the rationalism of Freud as of Marx." Is Freud then really a fink? And why did the young man Fiedler cited say so? The answer to this is not hard to find. Norman Brown, who has had a very great impact on many of our very young men, says in his now famous book that the insistence of many conventional American males on satisfying women sexually is a form of repression stemming from Freud, and something to be rejected in the name of freedom. So even fucking, in other words, is to Mr. Brown and to the young enlightened by him a bit too classical, just too upstanding)
	I want to say something further about Mr. Fiedler's essay. ~~Accord- ing~~ to him, the taking of drugs by the young is their expression, and main expression, of dissatisfaction with a boring and spiritually flat society. I will not go so far as to say that Mr. Fiedler recommends that the young take drugs, but I suggest that no one whose children are engaged in taking drugs should call on Mr. Fiedler to dissuade them from doing so. To take drugs, according to him, is to be an ~~ad- venturer~~, and in a society in which little adventure is possible. It is to travel inwards, something very up-to-date, like the up-to-dateness of the cosmonauts who go towards outer space. Once again, I do not want to charge Mr. Fiedler with recommending the taking of drugs, but I think his whole essay is a confession that he cannot call upon one value in whose name he could oppose it. Why?		I want to say something further about Mr. Fiedler's essay. According to him, the taking of drugs by the young is their expression, and main expression, of dissatisfaction with a boring and spiritually flat society. I will not go so far as to say that Mr. Fiedler recommends that the young take drugs, but I suggest that no one whose children are engaged in taking drugs should call on Mr. Fiedler to dissuade them from doing so. To take drugs, according to him, is to be an adventurer, and in a society in which little adventure is possible. It is to travel inwards, something very up-to-date, like the up-to-dateness of the cosmonauts who go towards outer space. Once again, I do not want to charge Mr. Fiedler with recommending the taking of drugs, but I think his whole essay is a confession that he cannot call upon one value in whose name he could oppose it. Why?

	When there is a real trend, and I think I am talking about a real trend here, one has to look for something deeper to explain it than the views of those who represent it verbally, even with cleverness. It is not enough to call names as Philip Rahv did in his review of Norman Mailer's The American Dream. Nor is it enough to argue politically with the youth, as Irving Howe did in his article on the "new left." Call Mailer foolish or a bad novelist—the last he is not—and the young will still listen to him. Call the "new left" ahistorical, as Irving Howe did in his essay, and the youny will reply—they already have replied— with violence. Philip Rahv and Irving Howe are perfectly right, of course, but I can't help remembering Hegel's remark about Rome in its decadence. The philosophers were right, Hegel said, but the people were right not to listen to them.		When there is a real trend, and I think I am talking about a real trend here, one has to look for something deeper to explain it than the views of those who represent it verbally, even with cleverness. It is not enough to call names as Philip Rahv did in his review of Norman Mailer's The American Dream. Nor is it enough to argue politically with the youth, as Irving Howe did in his article on the "new left." Call Mailer foolish or a bad novelist—the last he is not—and the young will still listen to him. Call the "new left" ahistorical, as Irving Howe did in his essay, and the youny will reply—they already have replied— with violence. Philip Rahv and Irving Howe are perfectly right, of course, but I can't help remembering Hegel's remark about Rome in its decadence. The philosophers were right, Hegel said, but the people were right not to listen to them.

Namir Riptide: Working on Essay formatting

2019-04-18T01:50:21Z

Working on Essay formatting

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Namir Riptide: /* Letters */ format playing

2019-04-04T00:51:26Z

Letters: format playing

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:51, 3 April 2019
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	{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}		{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}
	::::::::565 Commercial Street		::::::::::565 Commercial Street
	::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts		::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts

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	Just a line to say hello. An American Dream is awful. No excuses I’m afraid, I just sold it. As for the recommendation, of course I knew.		Just a line to say hello. An American Dream is awful. No excuses I’m afraid, I just sold it. As for the recommendation, of course I knew.

	:::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />		:::::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />
	:::::::::::Norman Mailer		::::::::::::Norman Mailer
	}}		}}

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	{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}		{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}
	:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street		:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
	:::::::::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts		::::::::::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts

	September 24, 1966		September 24, 1966
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	Thanks for your letter. Tell Mann Rubin I’d like to see his original screenplay of An American Dream in order to get a better idea of how and where Warner’s fucked it.		Thanks for your letter. Tell Mann Rubin I’d like to see his original screenplay of An American Dream in order to get a better idea of how and where Warner’s fucked it.

	:::::::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />		::::::::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />
	:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer		::::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
	}}		}}

Namir Riptide at 00:40, 4 April 2019

2019-04-04T00:40:29Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 20:40, 3 April 2019
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	{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}		{{quote box\|align=center\|fontsize=110%\|width=60%\|{{NMletter}}
	~~:::::::~~::::::::565 Commercial Street		::::::::565 Commercial Street
	~~:::::::~~:::::::: Provincetown, Massachusetts		::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts

	September 24, 1966		September 24, 1966
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	Just a line to say hello. An American Dream is awful. No excuses I’m afraid, I just sold it. As for the recommendation, of course I knew.		Just a line to say hello. An American Dream is awful. No excuses I’m afraid, I just sold it. As for the recommendation, of course I knew.

	~~::::~~:::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />		:::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />
	~~::::~~:::::::::::Norman Mailer		:::::::::::Norman Mailer
	}}		}}

Namir Riptide: added NMletter headers

2019-04-04T00:34:24Z

added NMletter headers

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	=== Letters ===		=== Letters ===

			{{NMletter}}
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	{{hatnote\|In this letter to fan Susan Abrams, Mailer is referring to the film version of the novel. Friends told him it was awful.}}		{{hatnote\|In this letter to fan Susan Abrams, Mailer is referring to the film version of the novel. Friends told him it was awful.}}
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	{{hatnote\|Udoff was acquainted with both Mailer and Mann Rubin.}}		{{hatnote\|Udoff was acquainted with both Mailer and Mann Rubin.}}
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	{{hatnote\|Weber’s interview with Mailer appeared in the March 1965 issue of Books, the literary supplement of the New York Post. It is one of only a few interviews he gave on the novel before it was published. Mailer did not know anything at the time about how Warner Brothers intended to film the novel and speculated in the interview on whether Frank Sinatra could play Stephen Rojack.  He also discussed the possibility of making An American Dream the first volume of a quartet in the manner of The Alexandria Quartet (1957-1960) of Lawrence Durrell (1912-1990), and commented on how An American Dream had its roots in his November 1960 Esquire essay on J.F.K., “Superman Comes to the Supermarket.” On the advice of friends, Mailer has never seen the film version of the novel. The Deer Park was turned into a play by Mailer and ran from 31 January to 21 May 1967 at the Off-Broadway Theatre de Lys.}}		{{hatnote\|Weber’s interview with Mailer appeared in the March 1965 issue of Books, the literary supplement of the New York Post. It is one of only a few interviews he gave on the novel before it was published. Mailer did not know anything at the time about how Warner Brothers intended to film the novel and speculated in the interview on whether Frank Sinatra could play Stephen Rojack.  He also discussed the possibility of making An American Dream the first volume of a quartet in the manner of The Alexandria Quartet (1957-1960) of Lawrence Durrell (1912-1990), and commented on how An American Dream had its roots in his November 1960 Esquire essay on J.F.K., “Superman Comes to the Supermarket.” On the advice of friends, Mailer has never seen the film version of the novel. The Deer Park was turned into a play by Mailer and ran from 31 January to 21 May 1967 at the Off-Broadway Theatre de Lys.}}
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	{{hatnote\|The first stage version of The Deer Park, in two acts, was presented at Act IV, a Provincetown Theater, in August 1966, with Beverly Bentley as Lulu Myers.		{{hatnote\|The first stage version of The Deer Park, in two acts, was presented at Act IV, a Provincetown Theater, in August 1966, with Beverly Bentley as Lulu Myers.
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	{{hatnote\|Sanford Sternlicht, an English professor at New York State University College at Oswego, wanted Mailer’s opinion of the film version.}}		{{hatnote\|Sanford Sternlicht, an English professor at New York State University College at Oswego, wanted Mailer’s opinion of the film version.}}
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	{{hatnote\|Mailer’s story “The Greatest Thing in the World” won Story magazine’s national college contest and was published there by Burnett in November 1941, marking the beginning of Mailer’s literary career. His undated letter (probably written in 1969) prefaces a selection from An American Dream describing the murder of Deborah by Rojack that was published in Burnett’s 1970 anthology, This is My Best: In the Third Quarter of the Century. Mailer’s letter is perhaps his most considered and perceptive comment on the novel.}}		{{hatnote\|Mailer’s story “The Greatest Thing in the World” won Story magazine’s national college contest and was published there by Burnett in November 1941, marking the beginning of Mailer’s literary career. His undated letter (probably written in 1969) prefaces a selection from An American Dream describing the murder of Deborah by Rojack that was published in Burnett’s 1970 anthology, This is My Best: In the Third Quarter of the Century. Mailer’s letter is perhaps his most considered and perceptive comment on the novel.}}

Namir Riptide: Added Letters to Sandbox

2019-04-04T00:18:20Z

Added Letters to Sandbox

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	== Letters ==		=== Letters ===

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Namir Riptide: Added Letters to Sandbox

2019-04-04T00:17:31Z

Added Letters to Sandbox

New page

== Letters ==

{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|In this letter to fan Susan Abrams, Mailer is referring to the film version of the novel. Friends told him it was awful.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}
:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
::::::::::::::: Provincetown, Massachusetts

September 24, 1966

Dear Susan,

Just a line to say hello. An American Dream is awful. No excuses I’m afraid, I just sold it. As for the recommendation, of course I knew.

:::::::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

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{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|Udoff was acquainted with both Mailer and Mann Rubin.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}
:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
:::::::::::::::Provincetown, Massachusetts

September 24, 1966

Dear Yale,

Thanks for your letter. Tell Mann Rubin I’d like to see his original screenplay of An American Dream in order to get a better idea of how and where Warner’s fucked it.

:::::::::::::::Best, etc.,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

{{Aad-letters}}

{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|Weber’s interview with Mailer appeared in the March 1965 issue of Books, the literary supplement of the New York Post. It is one of only a few interviews he gave on the novel before it was published. Mailer did not know anything at the time about how Warner Brothers intended to film the novel and speculated in the interview on whether Frank Sinatra could play Stephen Rojack.  He also discussed the possibility of making An American Dream the first volume of a quartet in the manner of The Alexandria Quartet (1957-1960) of Lawrence Durrell (1912-1990), and commented on how An American Dream had its roots in his November 1960 Esquire essay on J.F.K., “Superman Comes to the Supermarket.” On the advice of friends, Mailer has never seen the film version of the novel. The Deer Park was turned into a play by Mailer and ran from 31 January to 21 May 1967 at the Off-Broadway Theatre de Lys.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}
:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
::::::::::::::: Provincetown, Massachusetts

September 24, 1966

Dear Nancy,

I’m sorry to take so long to answer, but I haven’t gone near my mail in two months, and now I’m hacking my way through.  It’s the only way to stay alive. As for the film An American Dream, I haven’t seen it, but then I hardly suppose you have to.  The only thing is, I wouldn’t do an interview because I think if you sell something to Hollywood you’re one of the whores in the deal, and a whore shouldn’t complain about other whores, for that’s the basis of all comedy, so we’ll leave it at that.
I’ll be back in New York in November, and a few of us are going to produce The Deer Park Off-Broadway. We were doing it up here this summer. Maybe we can do an interview then.
Incidentally, although I think it can’t be easy on you, I’m glad you’re off the Post. You’re much too skillful an interviewer, let alone a writer, to work for that “schlockeria.”

:::::::::::::::Love and all,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

{{Aad-letters}}

{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|The first stage version of The Deer Park, in two acts, was presented at Act IV, a Provincetown Theater, in August 1966, with Beverly Bentley as Lulu Myers.
Cannibals and Christians, Mailer’s third miscellany, was published by Dial on 29 August 1966. Beverly gave birth to Stephen McLeod Mailer, their second son, on 10 March 1966. Basil was the son of Louis and Moos.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}
:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
::::::::::::::: Provincetown, Massachusetts

September 24, 1966

Dear Louis and Moos,

I haven’t written in ages. Please forgive me for not answering your fine letters, but this summer’s been unbelievable. I haven’t worked so hard in years. I got going at a great rate on a new novel and then just about the time I was half way through, everything in the scheme of things diverted me over to an old adaptation of The Deer Park, which I rewrote and changed from a five-hour play to a two-hour play. We did it up here in Provincetown in a theater Beverly helped to start (she is, by the way, a superb actress—woe is me—I’m not used to other talent in the family), and the play turned out well enough to be moved to New York. So we’re going to put it in on Off-Broadway this winter and if all goes well, it might be exciting, indeed. I have some hopes at any rate. As for the rest, all is well. Mother’s recovered completely from the operation, which proved, of course, not to be necessary—when will people finally realize that medicine exists first for the sake of doctors and their beastly hospitals. Cannibals and Christians came out and, to my surprise, received fairly good reviews. If Dad hasn’t taken care of it, I’m going to make certain a copy gets to you.
As for the boys, Michael is all box-office, prima donna, narcissistic, brilliant, spoiled, electric, frighteningly sexy, a complete self-starter, and Steve all attention and reaction and soft smiles and chuckles and fun. They’re going to make a great pair, knock on wood, as my mother would say.
As for the movie, An American Dream, don’t ask. An absolute disaster. My only consolation is that I had nothing to do with the makings of it, except for the tarty action of taking a large sum of money in sale from a large movie studio, for which I had no respect.

:::::::::::::::Give my best to Basil, Beverly sends love,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

{{Aad-letters}}

{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|Sanford Sternlicht, an English professor at New York State University College at Oswego, wanted Mailer’s opinion of the film version.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}
:::::::::::::::565 Commercial Street
::::::::::::::: Provincetown, Massachusetts

September 24, 1966

Dear Sandy,

Just a line to tell you that we may be in Provincetown Christmas week, for we own a home here now, but if we’re in New York, we’ll look forward to seeing you. You write, “We have as not yet seen An American Dream and find it difficult to imagine it confined to the screen.” Yes indeed, Sir, when you see it, you may find it difficult to imagine.

:::::::::::::::Best,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

{{Aad-letters}}

{{Aade-sm}}
{{hatnote|Mailer’s story “The Greatest Thing in the World” won Story magazine’s national college contest and was published there by Burnett in November 1941, marking the beginning of Mailer’s literary career. His undated letter (probably written in 1969) prefaces a selection from An American Dream describing the murder of Deborah by Rojack that was published in Burnett’s 1970 anthology, This is My Best: In the Third Quarter of the Century. Mailer’s letter is perhaps his most considered and perceptive comment on the novel.}}
<div style="clear:both;"></div>

{{quote box|align=center|fontsize=110%|width=60%|{{NMletter}}

Dear Whit,

Sometimes it seems useful to think of two kinds of novels—novels of manners, and modern explosive surrealistic novels in which the very notion of society, let alone manners, is bulldozed away in order to see what strange skeletons of fish and what buried treasure comes up in the ore. Out of my own work I suppose Why Are We in Vietnam? would most satisfy the latter category, and An American Dream might prove for some to be my most substantial attack on the problem of writing a novel of manners. They are hard novels to do well. Now that we are approaching the end of the seventh decade of the twentieth century they are becoming novels which are almost impossible to do well. The old totemistic force of manners, the old totemistic belief that breaching a manner inspired a curse has been all but lost in the avalanche of social deterioration which characterizes our era. Yet what can appear more attractive and sinister to us than a tea ceremony at the edge of a cliff. So I often think An American Dream is my best book. I tried for more in this novel than anywhere else and hence was living for a while with themes not easily accessible to literary criticism, not even to examination. The passage I choose now is not obligatorily the best thousand words in the work, but comes from the latter part of the first chapter and therefore offers few discomforts of orientation to the reader, and no demand on me for a synopsis of preceding events. Perhaps it may also serve to illumine the fine nerve of dread back of every good manner. Manner is the mandarin of mood, and in the shattering of every mood is an existential breath—does laughter or the murderous next ensue?

:::::::::::::::Yours,<br />
:::::::::::::::Norman Mailer
}}

{{Aad-letters}}