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The Mailer Review/Volume 9, 2015/The Thalian Adventure: Difference between revisions
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In the interval between the time I graduated from college and was drafted into the Army, I lived at home in Brooklyn with my parents. Everyone I knew was in service, and many evenings, for lack of something better, I went to the movies. Invariably, it was to see a foreign film in one of the art houses around New York. | In the interval between the time I graduated from college and was drafted into the Army, I lived at home in Brooklyn with my parents. Everyone I knew was in service, and many evenings, for lack of something better, I went to the movies. Invariably, it was to see a foreign film in one of the art houses around New York. | ||
On a particularly rainy autumn night, I decided after supper that I would make a long subway trip up to the Thalia Theatre on 95th Street off Broadway. They were showing two pictures I had heard a great deal about: M, and ''The Last Will of Doctor Mabuse'', and it seemed too fine a double-feature to miss. As I remember, it was the last night the films were showing. | On a particularly rainy autumn night, I decided after supper that I would make a long subway trip up to the Thalia Theatre on 95th Street off Broadway. They were showing two pictures I had heard a great deal about: ''M'', and ''The Last Will of Doctor Mabuse'', and it seemed too fine a double-feature to miss. As I remember, it was the last night the films were showing. | ||
The outing would have been without incident if my parents had not decided to accompany me. It was all at my mother’s instigation. We had a relation at the time which I suppose is not uncommon between mothers, and sons who have just acquired a college degree. She was eager to participate in what seemed to her the wholly impressive scope of my cultural interests. I, on my part, encouraged her with the notion that it was my duty to educate my parents. Indeed, I often felt enthusiasm for the project. | The outing would have been without incident if my parents had not decided to accompany me. It was all at my mother’s instigation. We had a relation at the time which I suppose is not uncommon between mothers, and sons who have just acquired a college degree. She was eager to participate in what seemed to her the wholly impressive scope of my cultural interests. I, on my part, encouraged her with the notion that it was my duty to educate my parents. Indeed, I often felt enthusiasm for the project. | ||