The October Country

BUDNI POKERSKI ŽETON H. MATISSEA

BUDNI POKERSKI ŽETON H. MATISSEA	The Watchful Poker Chip of H. Matisse
Kad prvi put srećemo Georgea Garveya, on je baš ništa. Kasnije će nositi monokl od bijelog pokerskog žetona, na kojem je sam Matisse naslikao plavo oko. Još kasnije će, možda, u zlatnoj krletki, ugrađenoj u umjetnu nogu Georgea Garveyja, ćurlikati ptica, a valjanu će mu ljevicu možda izraditi od sjajnoga bakra i nefrita.	When first we meet George Garvey he is nothing at all. Later he'll wear a white poker chip monocle, with a blue eye painted on it by Matisse himself. Later, a golden bird cage might trill within George Garvey's false leg, and his good left hand might possibly be fashioned of shimmering copper and jade.
Ali na početku - pogledajte jezivo svagdašnjeg čovjeka.	But at the beginning--gaze upon a terrifyingly ordinary man.
"Financijska rubrika, milo?"	"Financial section, dear?"
Naveče, u njegovu stanu, zašuštale su novine.	The newspapers rattle in his evening apartment.
"Vremenska prognoza veli 'sutra kiša'."	"Weatherman says 'rain tomorrow.'"
Crne runje u nosu dah je usrkivao, pa ispuhivao, lagano, lagano, iz sata u sat.	The tiny black hairs in his nostrils breathe in, breathe out, softly, softly, hour after hour.
Vrijeme za postelju.	"Time for bed."
Sudeći po izgledu, njega su posve očito rodile voštane lutke iz izloga, godište 19O7. A bio je tu i trik, mađioničarima toliko drag - sjedio bi u naslonjaču od zelenog velura - i najednom nestao! Okrenite glavu, i već ste mu zaboravili lice. Obično kao puding od vanilije.	By his look, quite obviously born of several 1907 wax window dummies. And with the trick, much admired by magicians, of sitting in a green velour chair and--vanishing! Turn your head and you forgot his face. Vanilla pudding.
Pa ipak, baš je njega najčišći slučaj učinio nukleusom jednog od najneobuzdanijih avangardnih književnih pokreta u povijesti!	Yet the merest accident made him the nucleus for the wildest avant-garde literary movement in history!
Garvey i žena mu dvadeset su godina živjeli u pregolemoj samoći. Ona je bila ljupki cvijetak, ali je, zbog opasnosti da bi mogla sresti onog fatalnog njega, odbijala sve goste. Ni on ni ona nisu ni slutili da Garvey posjeduje talent da u trenutku mumificira ljude. I on i ona tvrdili su kako su posve sretni što nakon žustroga dana u uredu mogu sami prosjediti večer. Oboje su obavljali anonimne poslove. A pokatkad se čak ne bi mogli ni sjetiti imena te svoje bezbojne kompanije koja ih je upotrebljavala kao nanos bijele boje na bijeloj boji.	Garvey and his wife had lived enormously alone for twenty years. She was a lovely carnation, but the hazard of meeting him pretty well kept visitors off. Neither husband nor wife suspected Garvey's talent for mummifying people instantaneously. Both claimed they were satisfied sitting alone nights after a brisk day at the office. Both worked at anonymous jobs. And sometimes even they could not recall the name of the colorless company which used them like white paint on white paint.
Na scenu stupa avangarda! Na scenu stupa Podrumski septet!	Enter the avant-garde! Enter The Cellar Septet!
Te čudne duše što su bujale u pariškim podrumima, gdje su slušale prilično tromu verziju džeza, uspjele su svoj visoko volatilni odnos prema toj glazbi sačuvati i šest i više mjeseci, i onda su, vrativši se u Sjedinjene Države ha pragu bučnoga raspada, naletjele na gospodina Georgea Garveyja.	These odd souls had flourished in Parisian basements listening to a rather sluggish variety of jazz, preserved a highly volatile relationship six months or more, and, returning to the United States on the point of clamorous disintegration, stumbled into Mr. George Garvey.
"Isuse Kriste!" uskliknuo je Alexander Pape, negdašnji potentat te klike. "Upoznao sam davež da se u kamen skameniš. Naprosto ga morate vidjeti! Sinoć je Bili Timmins na vratima stana ostavio cedulju da se vraća za jedan sat. A u predvorju mi je taj Garvey ponudio da ga pričekam kod njega. I tako smo sjedili, Garvey, njegova žena, ja! Nevjerojatno! On je čudovišni Ennui, čist proizvod našeg materijalističkog društva. On zna milijardu načina kako paralizirati čovjeka! Apsolutni rokoko s talentom za izazivanje stupora, dubokog sna i srčanog aresta. Živi školski primjer. Hajdemo mu svi u pohode!"	"My God!" cried Alexander Pape, erstwhile potentate of the clique. "I met the most astounding bore. You simply must see him! At Bill Timmins' apartment house last night, a note said he'd return in an hour. In the hall this Garvey chap asked if I'd like to wait in his apartment. There we sat, Garvey, his wife, myself! Incredible! He's a monstrous Ennui, produced by our materialistic society. He knows a billion ways to paralyze you! Absolutely rococo with the talent to induce stupor, deep slumber, or stoppage of the heart. What a case study. Let's all go visit!"
Nagrnuli su kao jato lešinara! Život je potekao kroz Garveyjeva vrata, život mu je zasjeo u dnevnu sobu. Podrumski septet naćulio se na njegovoj sofi s resicama, pa počeo očima proždirati svoj plijen.	They swarmed like vultures! Life flowed to Garvey's door, life sat in his parlor. The Cellar Septet perched on his fringed sofa, eyeing their prey.
Garvey se počeo nelagodno meškoljiti.	Garvey fidgeted.
"Ako netko želi zapaliti..." Blijedo se nasmiješio. "Mislim... samo izvolite... pušite."	"Anyone wants to smoke--" He smiled faintly. "Why--go right ahead--smoke."
Tišina.	Silence.
Upute su bile: "Dnevna zapovijed glasi kuš. Sasvim ga umirite. Samo ćete tako vidjeti kakva je on kolosalna norma, američka kultura na apsolutnoj nuli!"	The instructions were: "Mum's the word. Put him on the spot. That's the only way to see what a colossal norm he is. American culture at absolute zero!"
Nakon tri minute tišine neprekinute ni treptajem, gospodin Garvey se povio prema njima. "Mislim", rekao je, "kojim dobrom, gospodine..."	After three minutes of unblinking quiet, Mr. Garvey leaned forward. "Eh," he said, "what's your business. Mr. . . . ?"
"Crabtree. Pjesnik."	"Crabtree. The poet."
Garvey se nad time malo zamislio.	Garvey mused over this.
"Kako", upitao je, "poslovi?"	"How's," he said, "business?"
Nitko ni glasa.	Not a sound.
Spustila se tipična garveyjevska šutnja. Jer pred njima je sjedio najveći proizvođač i liferant šutnji na svijetu; samo navedite marku, i on će vam je i dobaviti, uvezanu i zapakiranu čišćenjem grla i došaptavanjem. Šutnju zbunjenu, neugodnu, mirnu, spokojnu, ravnodušnu, blaženu, zlatnu ili nervoznu; Garvey je tu bio kao doma.	Here lay a typical Garvey silence. Here sat the largest manufacturer and deliverer of silences in the world; name one, he could provide it packaged and tied with throat-clearings and whispers. Embarrassed, pained, calm, serene, indifferent, blessed, golden, or nervous silences; Garvey was in there.
Pa dobro, Podrumski se septet te večeri naprosto sladio tom vrlo specifičnom šutnjom. Kasnije, u svom stančiću bez tople vode, pri boci 'adekvatnog crnog vinca' (upravo su proživljavali pripremnu fazu za stvarni doticaj sa stvarnom stvarnošću), tu su šutnju razderali u krpice i onda je još i raščupali.	Well, The Cellar Septet simply wallowed in this particular evening's silence. Later, in their cold-water flat, over a bottle of "adequate little red wine" (they were experiencing a phase which led them to contact real reality) they tore this silence to bits and worried it.
"Jeste li vidjeli kako je zavlačio prst pod ovratnik! Ha!"	"Did you see how he fingered his collar! Ho!"
"Ali, bogami, moram priznati daje skoro 'hladan'. Spomenio sam Muggsy Spaniera i Bixa Beiderbeckea. Jeste mu vidjeli facu? Hladna kao led. Što bih dao da i sam mogu izgledati kao da me ništa ne dira, kao da baš ništa ne osjećam."	"By God, though, I must admit he's almost 'cool.' Mention Muggsy Spanier and Bix Beiderbecke. Notice his expression. Very cool. I wish I could look so uncaring, so unemotional."
* * *	* * *

Spremajući se za krevet, George Garvey je razmišljao o toj neobičnoj večeri i shvatio da bi njega, kad god bi mu se situacija istrgla iz ruke, kad god bi počela rasprava o neobičnim knjigama ili glazbi, uvijek hvatala panika, tako da bi se sledio.	Ready for bed, George Garvey, reflecting upon this extraordinary evening, realized that when situations got out of hand, when strange books or music were discussed, he panicked, he froze.
No to kod njegovih uvrnutih gostiju kao da i nije izazivalo pretjeranu zabrinutost. Baš naprotiv, kad su odlazili, žustro su mu protresli ruku, i zahvalili mu na prekrsno provedenoj večeri!	This hadn't seemed to cause undue concern among his rather oblique guests. In fact, on the way out, they had shaken his hand vigorously, thanked him for a splendid time!
"Kakav stručni tuposlav prve A klase!" uskliknuo je Alexander Pape na drugom kraju grada.	"What a really expert A-number-1 bore!" cried Alexander Pape, across town.
"Možda nam se potajno smije", rekao je Smith, pjesnik drugoga reda, koji se u budnom stanju s Papeom nikad nije slagao ni u čemu.	"Perhaps he's secretly laughing at us," said Smith, the minor poet, who never agreed with Pape if he was awake.
"Daj da pokupimo Minnie i Toma; njih će on oduševiti. Kakvo izuzetno veče. Imat ćemo o čemu pričati mjesecima!"	"Let's fetch Minnie and Tom; they'd love Garvey. A rare night. We'll talk of it for months!"
"Jeste li opazili?" upitao je Smith, pjesnik drugoga reda, i samodopadno zatvorio oči. "Kad otvorite pipe u kupaoni?" Napravio je dramatsku stanku. " Topla voda."	"Did you notice?" asked Smith, the minor poet, eyes closed smugly. "When you turn the taps in their bathroom?" He paused dramatically. "Hot water."
Svi su se netrpeljivo zapiljili u Smitha.	Everyone stared irritably at Smith.
Oni se nisu ni sjetili da to iskušaju.	They hadn't thought to try.
Ta klika, nevjerojatni kvasac, uskoro je u svom bubrenju razvalila i prozore i vrata.	The clique, an incredible yeast, soon burst doors and windows, growing.
"Niste vidjeli Garveyjeve? Bože premili! Lezi u svoj lijes i snivaj! Garvey to sigurno uvježbava. Nitko ne može biti baš takva seljačina bez pomoći Stanislavskog!" I tu je govornik, Alexander Pape - koji je svojim savršenim imitacijama čitavo društvo bacao u depresiju - počeo majmunirati Garveyjevu sporu, samosvjesnu govoranciju:	"You haven't met the Garveys? My God! lie back down in your coffin! Garvey must rehearse. No one's that boorish without Stanislavsky!" Here the speaker, Alexander Pape, who depressed the entire group because he did perfect imitations, now aped Garvey's slow, self-conscious delivery:
" 'Uliks? Nije to bila nekakva knjiga o Grcima, brodu i jednookom čudovištu? Kako, molim?' " Stanka. " 'O.' " Još jedna stanka. " 'O, jasno.' " Zavaljivanje. Uliksa je napisao James Joyce? Čudno. A ja bih se mogao zakleti da se sjećam, kako je prije mnogo godina, u školi...' "	"'Ulysses? Wasn't that the book about the Greek, the ship, and the one-eyed monster! Beg pardon?'" A pause. "'Oh.'" Another pause. "'I see.'" A sitting back. "'Ulysses was written by James ce? Odd. I could swear I remember, years ago, in school. . .'"
Unatoč tome što su Alexandera Papea svi mrzili zbog njegova briljantnog oponašanja, ipak su, kad je nastavio, svi zaurlali od smijeha.	In spite of everyone hating Alexander Pape for his brilliant imitations, they roared as he went on:
'"Tennessee Williams? Ma je li to onaj koji je napisao onaj "Valcer" za selje?"'	"'Tennessee Williams? Is he the man who wrote that hillbilly "Waltz?"
"Brzo! Daj njegovu adresu!" zakričali su svi odreda. "Bože", zamijetio je gospodin Garvey u razgovoru sa svojom suprugom, "što je život čudan."	"Quick! What's Garvey's home address?" everyone cried. "My," observed Mr. Garvey to his wife, "life is fun these days."
"Čudan si ti", odvratila mu je žena. "Jesi vidio, gutali su svaku tvoju riječ."	"It's you," replied his wife. "Notice, they hang on your every word."
"Slušali su me s ushitom", rekao je gospodin Garvey, "koji je graničio s histerijom. I na najmanju bi sitnicu eksplodirali. Čudno. A u uredu, kad pričam viceve, kao da govorim zidu. A večeras se, recimo, nisam uopće ni trudio da budem duhovit. Pretpostavljam da je riječ o podsvjesnom potočiću duhovitosti što tiho teče ispod svake moje riječi. Lijepo je znati da to imam u pričuvi. Ah, evo i zvona. Idemo!"	"Their attention is rapt," said Mr. Garvey, "to the point of hysteria. The least thing I say absolutely explodes them. Odd. My jokes at the office always met a stony wall. Tonight, for instance, I wasn't trying to be funny at all. I suppose it's an unconscious little stream of wit that flows quietly under everything I do or say. Nice to know I have it in reserve. Ah, there's the bell. Here we go!"
"A poseban bi specijalitet bio izvući ga iz postelje u četiri ujutro", rekao je Alexander Pape. "Kombinacija iscrpljenosti i morala fin de siaclea: prava salata!"	"He's especially rare if you get him out of bed at four A.M.," said Alexander Pape. "The combination of exhaustion and fin de siècle morality is a regular salad!"
Svi su se prilično pigali na Papea što se prvi sjetio da Garveyja posjete u zoru. Pa ipak, poslije ponoći i koncem listopada, za tu je kombinaciju zavladalo žestoko zanimanje.	Everyone was pretty miffed at Pape for being first to think of seeing Garvey at dawn. Nevertheless, interest ran high after midnight in late October.
Podsvijest gospodina Garveyja govorila mu je u najdubljoj tajnosti daje on bio uvodna predstava kazališne sezone, no da njegov daljnji uspjeh ovisi o konstantnosti sile dosade što je pobuđuje u drugima. Iako gaje sve to samo zabavljalo, on je ipak naslućivao zbog čega se ti leminzi jate u njegovu privatnom moru. Duboko ispod kože, Garvey je bio zapanjujuće briljantan čovjek, ali su ga njegovi nemaštoviti roditelji silom sabili u Užasno čudnu postelju njegova okoliša. A odatle su ga opet izbacili u golemi tijesak za limun: u njegov Ured, u njegovu Tvornicu, u ruke njegove Žene. Rezultat: čovjek čiji su potencijali pakleni stroj u vlastitoj dnevnoj sobi. Garveyjeva potisnuta podsvjesna polovica shvaćala je da ti avangardisti još nikad nisu sreli nikoga ni sličnoga njemu, ili možda, da su ih sreli na milijune, ali im još nikad nije ni palo na um da takav egzemplar i pomno izuče.	Mr. Garvey's subconscious told him in utmost secrecy that he was the opener of a theatrical season, his success dependent upon the staying power of the ennui he inspired in others. Enjoying himself, he nevertheless guessed why these lemmings thronged to his private sea. Underneath, Garvey was a surprisingly brilliant man, but his unimaginative parents had crushed him in the Terribly Strange Bed of their environment. From there he had been thrown to a larger lemon-squeezer: his Office, his Factory, his Wife. The result: a man whose potentialities were a time bomb in his own parlor. The Garvey's repressed subconscious half recognized that the avant-gardists had never met anyone like him, or rather had met millions like him but had never considered studying one before.
I tako je bio tu gdje jest, prvi od jesenjih slavljenika. Sljedećeg bi to mjeseca mogao biti kakav apstraktni slikar iz Allentowna, koji radi na petmetarskim ljestvama i s molerskom četkom, i to samo u dvije boje, plavoj i oblačnosivoj, te slastičarskom špricom i prskalicom za insekticide po platnu prekrivenom smjesom ljepila i mljevene kave, a kojemu je, za njegov duševni rast, naprosto nužno uvažavanje! Ili pak neki limorezac, majstor mobila iz Chicaga, petnaest godina star ali zato znanjem već prava starina. Promućurna podsvijest postala je još sumnjičavijom nakon što je počinio groznu pogrešku, to jest pročitao Nucleus, najobljubljeniji časopis avangarde.	So here he was, the first of autumn's celebrities. Next month it might be some abstractionist from Allentown who worked on a twelve-foot ladder shooting house-paint, in two colors only, blue and cloud-gray, from cake-decorators and insecticide-sprayers on canvas covered with layers of mucilage and coffee grounds, who simply needed appreciation to grow! or a Chicago tin-cutter of mobiles, aged fifteen, already ancient with knowledge. Mr. Garvey's shrewd subconscious grew even more suspicious when he made the terrible mistake of reading the avant-garde's favorite magazine, Nucleus.
"Taj članak o Danteu, mislim", rekao je Garvey. "Fascinantno. Napose na mjestu gdje raspravlja o prostornim metaforama izrečenim na pribrežju Antipurgatorija i u Paradiso terrestrea na vrhu Brda. Onaj dio o pjevanjima XV-XVIII, takozvanim 'doktrinarnim pjevanjima', upravo je briljantan!"	"This article on Dante, now," said Garvey. "Fascinating. Especially where it discusses the spatial metaphors conveyed in the foothills of the Antipurgatorio and the Paradiso Terrestre on top of the Mountain. The bit about Cantos XV--XVIII, the so-called 'doctrinal cantos' is brilliant!"
I kako je na to reagirao Podrumski septet?	How did The Cellar Septet react?
Kao da ih je netko maljem u glavu, sve odreda!	Stunned, all of them!
Uslijedilo je upadljivo zahlađenje.	There was a noticeable chill.
Kad su opazili da ih, umjesto da bude zabavno pučkouman, momak kojem je jedina ambijacija u životu imati bolji auto od susjeda i čijim šuć-muć životom tihog očaja upravlja logika strojeva, Garvey zapravo dovodi do bjesnila svojim umnim sudovima na temu Postoji li egzistencijalizam ili je sve Kraft-Ebbing, pokupili su se po kratkom postupku. Garveyjeva je podsvijest upozorila svog vlasnika da njima nije do njegovih mišljenja o alkemiji i simbolizmu, izrečenih piccolo-glasom. Njima je bilo samo do Garveyjeva dobrog starog bijelog kruha sa seljačkim maslacem iz mućkalice, koji će kasnije prežvakavati u zadimljenom baru, uzvikujući pritom kako je divan!	They departed in short order when instead of being a delightfully mass-minded, keep-up-with-the-Joneses, machine-dominated chap leading a wishywashy life of quiet desperation, Garvey enraged them with opinions on Does Existentialism Still Exist, or Is Kraft-Ebbing? They didn't want opinions on alchemy and symbolism given in a piccolo voice, Garvey's subconscious warned him. They only wanted Garvey's good old-fashioned plain white bread and churned country butter, to be chewed on later at a dim bar, exclaiming how priceless!
Garvey se povukao.	Garvey retreated.
Sljedeće je večeri opet bio onaj stari nenadmašivi on. Dale Carnegie? Briljantni vjerski vođa! Hart Schaffner &Mara? Bolji od Bond Streeta! Član After-Shave Cluba? Eto što je bio Garvey! Posljednja Knjiga mjeseca? Evo je na stolu! Jesu li kad čitali Elinor Glyn?	Next night he was his old precious self. Dale Carnegie? Splendid religious leader! Hart Schaffner & Marx? Better than Bond Street! Member of the After-Shave Club? That was Garvey! Latest Book-of-the-Month? Here on the table! Had they ever tried Elinor Glyn?
Podrumski je septet bio užasnut, oduševljen. Pristali su da ih batinom natjera da gledaju Miltona Berlea. Čim bi ovaj zinuo, Garvey bi prasnuo u smijeh. Garvey je sa susjedima uredio da mu snimaju razne dnevne limunade, i onda bi ih uvečer pobožno reproducirao, dok bi mu Podrumski septet analizirao i izraz lica i potpunu odanost Ma Perkins i Johnovoj drugoj ženi.	The Cellar Septet was horrified, delighted. They let themselves be bludgeoned into watching Milton Berle. Garvey laughed at everything Berle said. It was arranged for neighbors to tape-record various daytime soap operas which Garvey replayed evenings with religious awe, while the Cellar Septet analyzed his face and his complete devotion to Ma Perkins and John's Other Wife.
O, Garvey se prolukavio. Njegov je unutrašnji ja zamijetio: Sad si na vrhu. Tu i ostani! Ugodi publici! Sutra vrti ploče Two Black Crowsa! Neka pazi kako gazi! A sad Bonnie Baker... to, to! Oni će se tresti od groze, padati u nesvjesticu od nevjerice da ti se doista sviđa njezino pjevanje. A što vele na Guy Lombarda? Ma to je ono pravo!	Oh, Garvey was getting sly. His inner self observed: You're on top. Stay there! Please your public! Tomorrow, play the Two Black Crows records! Mind your step! Bonnie Baker, now . . . that's it! They'll shudder, incredulous that you really like her singing. What about Guy Lombardo? That's the ticket!
Vulgoumnost, rekla je njegova podsvijest. Ti simboliziraš gomilu. Ovamo su došli proučavati jezivu vulgarnost imaginarnog Masovnog Čovjeka kojeg navodno mrze. Ali ih njegov zmijski pogled ujedno i silno fascinira.	The mob-mind, said his subconscious. You're symbolic of the crowd. They came to study the dreadful vulgarity of this imaginary Mass Man they pretend to hate. But they're fascinated with the snake-pit.

Kao da mu čita misli, njegova je žena opazila: "Ti im se sviđaš."	Guessing his thought, his wife objected. "They like you."
"Na prilično zastrašujući način", odgovorio je on. "Pitanje zašto mi dolaze nije mi dalo zaspati! Uvijek sam sebe mrzio, samome sebi bio dosadan. Glupo sivo laprdalo. U čitavoj glavi nijedne originalne misli. A sad znam samo jedno: volim društvo. Oduvijek sam želio biti društven, ali nisam imao prilike. Ovo zadnjih mjeseci - to je bio bal! Ali njihovo zanimanje zamire. A ja želim društvo dovijeka! I što da radim?"	"In a frightening sort of way," he said. "I've lain awake figuring why they should come see me! Always hated and bored myself. Stupid, tattletale-gray man. Not an original thought in my mind. All I know now is: I love company. I've always wanted to be gregarious, never had the chance. It's been a ball these last months! But their interest is dying. I want company forever! What shall Ido?"
Našto se njegova podsvijest pojavila s kupovnom listom.	His subconscious provided shopping lists.
Pivo. Divno nemaštovito.	Beer. It's unimaginative.
Pereci. Prekrasno 'passÇ'.	Pretzels. Delightfully "passé."
Svrati kod Mother'sa. Uzmi sliku Maxfielda Parrisha, upljuvanu od muha ipožutjelu od sunca. I večeras o njoj održi malo predavanjce.	Stop by Mother's. Pick up Max field Parrish painting, the flyspecked, sunburnt one. Lecture on same tonight.
Ali kad je nastupio prosinac, gospodina je Garveyja uhvatila panika.	By December Mr. Garvey was really frightened.
Podrumski septet sad se već bio sasvim privikao na Miltona Berlea i Guya Lombarda. Zapravo su se racionalizacijom već bili doveli u poziciju s koje su Berlea mogli proglasiti odveć probranim za američku publiku, te ustvrditi da je Lombardo dvadeset godina ispred svog vremena; a ako ga vole i najgnusniji ljudi, onda je to samo zato što ih vode najniži motivi.	The Cellar Septet was now quite accustomed to Milton Berle and Guy Lombardo. In fact, they had rationalized themselves into a position where they acclaimed Berle as really too rare for the American public, and Lombardo was twenty years ahead of his time; the nastiest people liked him for the commonest reasons.
Garveyjevo se carstvo počelo klimati.	Garvey's empire trembled.
Najednom je bio samo jedan od njih, ne čovjek koji bi skretao ukuse svojih prijatelja, već čovjek koji ih grozničavo slijedi, a dogodilo se to kad su se dohvatili Nore Bayes, iz Knickerbocker Quartettea iz godine 1917, i Ala Jolsona i pjesme mu 'Kamo je Robinson Crusoe pošao s Petkom u subotu uveče', kao i Shepa Fieldsa i njegova Rippling Rhythma. Ponovno otkriće Maxfielda Parrisha bacilo je gospodina Garveyja na niske grane. Preko noći, svi su se suglasili: "Pivo je intelektualno. Kakva šteta što ga piju i toliki idioti."	Suddenly he was just another person, no longer diverting the tastes of friends, but frantically pursuing them as they seized at Nora Bayes, the 1917 Knickerbocker Quartette, Al Jolson singing "Where Did Robinson Crusoe Go With Friday on Saturday Night," and Shep Fields and his Rippling Rhythm. Maxfield Parrish's rediscovery left Mr. Garvey in the north pasture. Overnight, everyone agreed, "Beer's intellectual. What a shame so many idiots drink it."
U dvije riječi, prijatelji su iščezli. Šuškalo se da Alexander pape razmišlja da, čisto iz vica, u svoj hladnovodni stan uvede i toplu vodu. Toj su ružnoj patki, istina, ubrzo zakrenuli vratom, ali ipak ne prije nego što je Alexandar Pape u očima cognoscentija izgubio mnogo poena.	In short, his friends vanished. Alexander Pape, it was rumored, for a lark, was even considering hot water for his cold-water flat. This ugly canard was quashed, but not before Alexander Pape suffered a comedown among the cognoscenti.
Garvey se ljudski znojio da preduhitri nadolazeću promjenu ukusa! Povećao je promet besplatne klope, predvidio povratak u Olujne dvadesete, pa počeo, prvi od svih, nositi čupave pumperice i ženu pokazivati u "vreći" i s dječačkom bubi-frizurom.	Garvey sweated to anticipate the shifting taste! He increased the free food output, foresaw the swing back to the Roaring Twenties by wearing hairy knickers and displaying his wife in a tube dress and boyish bob long before anyone else.
Ali bi lešinari samo došli, naždrli se i zgiljali. Sada, kad je taj strašni div TV opkoračio svijet, oni su se marljivo vraćali radiju. Sad su se na intelektualnim galama krvavi bojevi bili nad prošvercanim magnetogramina Vic and Sadea i Pepper Young 's Familyja.	But, the vultures came, ate, and ran. Now that this frightful Giant, TV, strode the world, they were busily re-embracing radio. Bootlegged 1935 transcriptions of Vic and Sade and Pepper Young's Family were fought over at intellectual galas.
Na koncu je Garvey bio prisiljen ući u čitav niz čudesnih junačkih megdana, koje je i smislio i proveo njegov uspaničeni i skriveni drugi ja.	At long last, Garvey was forced to turn to a series of miraculous tours de force, conceived and carried out by his panic-stricken inner self.
Prva se nesreća dogodila kad je tresnuo vratima automobila.	The first accident was a slammed car door.
Gospodin Garvey si je uredno otfikario vršak maloga prsta!	Mr. Garvey's little fingertip was neatly cut off!
U kaosu koji je potom uslijedio, Garvey je najprije počeo poskakivati, pa tako stao na vršak prsta, pa ga ritnuo u ispust ulične kanalizacije. Kad su ga napokon upecali, nijedan se više liječnik nije htio gnjaviti njegovim prišivanjem na staro mjesto.	In the resultant chaos, hopping about, Garvey stepped on, then kicked the fingertip into a street drain. By the time they fished it out, no doctor would bother sewing it back on.
Sretne li nesreće! Sutradan, dok je šetao kraj nekog dućana istočnjačkim umjetninama, u oko mu je upao prekrasan objet d'art. Njegova krepka stara podsvijest, nakon što je uvažila stalno opadanje broja gledatelja i sve niži rejting među avangardom, silom ga je ugurala u dućan pa mu ispukala lisnicu.	A happy accident! Next day, strolling by an oriental shop, Garvey spied a beautiful objet d'art. His peppy old subconscious, considering his steadily declining box office and his poor audiencerating among the avant-garde, forced him into the shop and dragged out his wallet.
"O, da ste jučer vidjed Garveyja!" zavrištao je Alexander Pape preko telefona. 'Tako vam Boga, idite si to pogledati!"	"Have you seen Garvey lately!" screamed Alexander Pape on the phone. "My God, go see!"
"A što to?"	"What's that?"
Svi su blenuli.	Everyone stared.
"Mandarinski štitnik za prst." Garvey je ležerno mahnuo rukom. "Orijentalni antikvitet. Mandarinima je služio za zaštitu nokata od deset centimetara, jer su ih uzgajali." Dok je pio svoje pivo, mezimac sa zlatnim napršnjakom samo je nagnuo glavu. "Svi mrze bogalje, pogled na nešto što fali. Tužno je izgubiti prst. Ali mi je s tom zlatnom zezalicom ipak mnogo lakše."	"Mandarin's finger-guard." Garvey waved his hand casually. "Oriental antique. Mandarins used them to protect the five-inch nails they cultivated." He drank his beer, the gold-thimbled little finger cocked. "Everyone hates cripples, the sight of things missing. It was sad losing my finger. But I'm happier with this gold thingamajig."
"I to je sad prst, i tako lijep, kakav nitko od nas nikad neće imati." Garveyjeva im je žena svima na tanjur stavila malo zelene salate. "A George se time ima pravo služiti."	"It's a much nicer finger now than any of us can ever have." His wife dished them all a little green salad. "And George has the right to use it."
Garvey je bio i šokiran i očaran povratkom svoje već uvehle popularnosti. O, umjetnosti! O, živote! Njihalo se zibalo od kompleksnog do jednostavnog, pa ponovno do kompleksnog. Od romantičnog do realističnog, pa opet do romantičnog. Mudar čovjek zna osjetiti intelektualne perihele i pripremiti se za žestoke nove orbite. Garveyjeva podsvjesna briljantnost uspravila se na jastucima, uspjela pojesti dva zalogaja, a jednog će se dana i odvažiti ustati iz kreveta, pa progibati od ležanja zamrle udove. Vatra se primila!	Garvey was shocked and charmed as his dwindling popularity returned. Ah, art! Ah, life! The pendulum swinging back and forth, from complex to simple, again to complex. From romantic to realistic, back to romantic. The clever man could sense intellectual perihelions, and prepare for the violent new orbits. Garvey's subconscious brilliance sat up, began to eat a bit, and some days dared to walk about, trying its unused limbs. It caught fire!
"Kako je ovaj svijet nemaštovit", rekao je njegov dugo zapuštani drugi ja, i to kroz njegova usta. "Da mi je nesrećom nešto otkinulo nogu, mislite da bih nosio drvenu? Ni slučajno! Dao bih si napraviti zlatnu nogu optočenu draguljima, i u nju ugradio zlatnu krletku, pa bi u njoj, dok bih šetao ili sjedio i pričao s prijateljima, biglisala modrovoljka. A kad bi mi nešto odsjeklo ruku, dao bih napraviti novu od bakra i nefrita, svu šuplju, da unutra držim suhi led. I još pet pretinaca, u svakom prstu po jedan. Jel tko za piće? viknuo bih. Prošek? Konjak? Dubonnet? I onda bih im mirno nad čašom zavrnuo prst. Iz pet prstiju, pet studenih potočića, pet što vina, što likera. Potom bih zatvorio zlatne pipce. 'Do dna!' kriknuo bih.	"How unimaginative the world is," his long-neglected other self said, using his tongue. "If somehow my leg were severed accidentally I wouldn't wear a wooden leg, no! I'd have a gold leg crusted with precious stones made, and part of the leg would be a golden cage in which a bluebird would sing as I walked or sat talking to friends. And if my arm were cut off I'd have a new arm made of copper and jade, all hollow inside, a section for dry ice in it. And five other compartments, one for each finger. Drink, anyone? I'd cry. Sherry? Brandy? Dubonnet? Then I'd twist each finger calmly over the glasses. From five fingers, five cool streams, five liqueurs or wines. I'd tap the golden faucets shut. 'Bottoms up!' I'd cry.
Ali, više od svega, čovjek skoro poželi da ga sablazni vlastito oko. Pukaj ga van, veli Biblija. Ma jel to bilo u Bibliji? Ali da se to dogodi meni, ja ne bih, tako mi Boga, gurao u glavu nikakvu jezu od staklenog oka. Niti stavljao nekakvu crnu, gusarsku zakrpu. Znate što bih ja? Poslao bih u Francusku, onom vašem prijatelju, kako se ono zvao? Matisse! Poslao bih mu žeton za poker i rekao: 'U prilogu žeton za poker i ček. Molim naslikati na žetonu lijepo plavo ljudsko oko. S pošt. G. Garvey!"	"But, most of all, one almost wishes that one's eye would offend one, Pluck it out, the Bible says. It was the Bible, wasn't it? If that happened to me, I'd use no grisly glass eyes, by God. None of those black, pirate's patches. Know what I'd do? I'd mail a poker chip to your friend in France, what's his name? Matisse! I'd say, 'Enclosed find poker chip, and personal check. Please paint on this chip one beautiful blue human eye. Yrs. sincerely, G. Garvey!'"
Mislim, Garvey se uvijek gnušao vlastitoga tijela, nalazeći da su mu oči blijede, slabačke, da im manjka karaktera. I tako se nije nimalo iznenadio kad je mjesec dana potom (kad je njegov gallup ponovno pao na niske grane) opazio da mu desno oko počinje suziti, gnojiti se, i najednom je tu bila samo rupa!	Well, Garvey had always abhorred his body, found his eyes pale, weak, lacking character. So he was not surprised a month later (when his Gallup ran low again) to see his right eye water, fester, and then pull a complete blank!
Kao da ga je bomba strefila!	Garvey was absolutely bombed!
Ali mu je - isto tako - potajno bilo i drago.	But--equally--secretly pleased.
Dok mu se Podrumski septet u brk smješkao poput kakve porote garguja, on je zračnom poštom u Francusku poslao žeton za poker u pratnji čeka na pedeset dolara.	With the Cellar Septet smiling like a jury of gargoyles at his elbow, he airmailed the poker chip to France with a check for fifty dollars.

Koji mu se, neunovčen, vratio nakon tjedan dana.	The check returned, uncashed, a week later.
Sljedećom je poštom prispio pokerski žeton.	In the next mail came the poker chip.
Na njemu je H. Matisse naslikao modro oko rijetke ljepote, s delikatnim trepavicama i obrvama. H. Matisse je taj žeton usadio u kutijicu za nakit od zelenoga pliša, jer ga je taj pothvat očito zabavljao bar koliko i samoga Garveyja.	H. Matisse had painted a rare, beautiful blue eye on it, delicately lashed and browed. H. Matisse had tucked this chip in a greenplush jeweler's box, quite obviously as delighted as was Garvey with the entire enterprise.
Harper's Bazaar je objavio sliku našega Garveyja, s Matisseovim okom na pokerskom žetonu, ali onda i još jednu, fotku samoga Matissea, kako slika oko nakon popriličnog eksperimentiranja na tri tuceta žetona!	Harper's Bazaar published a picture of Garvey, wearing the Matisse poker-chip eye, and yet another of Matisse, himself, painting the monocle after considerable experimentation with three dozen chips!
H. Matisse je imao dovoljno i prezdravog razuma, pa je zato pozvao fotografa da svojom Leicom čitavu tu priču pohrani za zahvalno potomstvo. Bile su navedene i njegove riječi: "Nakon što sam bacio dvadeset sedam komada očiju, napokon sam dobio ono pravo. Ono već leti hitnom poštom ravno u ruke monsieur Garveyju!"	H. Matisse had had the uncommon good sense to summon a photographer to Leica the affair for posterity. He was quoted. "After I had thrown away twenty-seven eyes, I finally got the very one I wanted. It flies posthaste to Monsieur Garvey!"
Reproducirano u šest boja, oko je zlokobno počivalo u svojoj kutijici od zelenoga pliša. Muzej modeme umjetnosti pustio je u prodaju njegove duplikate. Prijatelji Podrumskoga septeta igrali su poker, i pritom se služili crvenim žetonima s plavim očima, bijelim žetonima s crvenim očima i plavim žetonima s bijelim očima.	Reproduced in six colors, the eye rested balefully in its greenplush box. Duplicates were struck off for sales by the Museum of Modern Art. The Friends of the Cellar Septet played poker, using red chips with blue eyes, white chips with red eyes, and blue chips with white eyes.
Ali je u čitavom New Yorku bio samo jedan čovjek koji je nosio originalni Matisseov monokl, i taj je čovjek bio gospodin Garvey.	But there was only one man in New York who wore the original Matisse monocle and that was Mr. Garvey.
"Ja sam i dalje tupadžija i dinamit za živce," rekao je on svojoj ženi, "ali sad neće više nikad shvatiti kakav se grozni vol krije ispod monokla i mandarinskoga prsta. A ako bi njihovo zanimanje opet počelo opadati, uvijek se dade srediti da izgubim koju ruku ili nogu. O tom nema nikakve sumnje. Nabacio sam prekrasnu fasadu; nitko više nikad neće uspjeti pronaći onaj stari davež."	"I'm still a nervewracking bore," he told his wife, "but now they'll never know what a dreadful ox I am underneath the monocle and the Mandarin's finger. And if their interest should happen to dwindle again, one can always arrange to lose an arm or leg. No doubt of it. I've thrown up a wondrous façade; no one will ever find the ancient boor again."
Ili, kako je to rekla njegova supruga, jednog drugog popodneva: "Ja više u njemu i ne vidim staroga Georgea Garveyja. Promijenio je i ime, u Giulio, i hoće da ga tako zovu. Pokatkad, noću, ja ga pogledam i zazovem 'George', ali odgovora nema. Eto, to je on, s tim mandarinskim napršnjakom na mezimcu, s plavo-bijelim Matisseovim monoklom od pokerskog žetona na oku. Počesto se budim i gledam ga. I znate što? Kao da mi taj nevjerojatni Matisseov pokerski žeton čudovišno miga."	And as his wife put it only the other afternoon: "I hardly think of him as the old George Garvey any more. He's changed his name. Giulio, he wants to be called. Sometimes, at night, I look over at him and call, 'George,' but there's no answer. There he is, that mandarin's thimble on his little finger, the white and blue Matisse Poker-Chip monocle in his eye. I wake up and look at him often. And do you know? Sometimes that incredible Matisse Poker Chip seems to give out with a monstrous wink."

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