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By Root 6076 0

of demon lovers. “You know what my hillbilly neighbors say,” Humboldt told me, “they say, keep ‘em in their stocking feet. Sometimes,” he said, “I think of Eros and Psyche.” He flattered himself. Eros was beautiful and he came and went in dignity. Where was Hum-boldt’s dignity? He confiscated Kathleen’s driver’s license. He hid the car keys. He wouldn’t allow her to keep a garden because, he said, gardening expressed the Philistine-improving impulse of city people when they bought a dream house in the country. A few tomatoes grew at the kitchen door but these had reseeded themselves when raccoons overturned the garbage cans. He said seriously, “Kathleen and I have mental work to do. Besides, if we had fruits and flowers it would make us conspicuous out here.” He was afraid of sheeted night-riders and of burning crosses in his yard.

I sympathized greatly with Kathleen because she was a sleeper. I wondered about her dreaminess. Was she born to be kept in the dark? Not to reach consciousness was a condition of Psyche’s bliss. But perhaps there was a more economical explanation. Tigler’s tight denims had revealed an enormous sexual lump in front, and Humboldt, when he pursued Demmie’s friend to her apartment, among the dachshund puppies, had shouted, “I’m a poet, I have a big cock!” But my guess was that Humboldt had the character of a tyrant who wanted a woman to hold still and that his lovemaking was frenzied dictatorship. Even his last letter to me confirmed this interpretation. Still, how was one to know? And a woman without secrets was no woman at all. And probably Kathleen had decided to marry Tigler only because life in Nevada was so lonely. Enough of this ingenious analysis.

Giving in to my weakness for telling people what they wish to hear, I said to Kathleen, “The West has agreed with you.” It was, however, more or less true.

“You look well but a little drawn, Charlie.”

“Life is too vexatious. Maybe I should try the West myself. When the weather was nice I did like lying under the elder trees at your ranch watching the mountains all day long. Anyway, Huggins says you’ve got some sort of job in the picture business and you’re on your way to Europe.”

“Yes. You were there when that company came out to Volcano Lake to make a movie about Outer Mongolia and all the Indians were hired to ride their ponies.”

“And Tigler was technical consultant.”

“And Father Edmund—you remember him, the silent-film-star Episcopal minister—was so excited. Poor Father Edmund never got ordained. He hired somebody to take his written exam in theology and they were caught. It’s too bad because the Indians loved him and they were so proud that his robes were those stars’ negligees. But yes, I’m going to Yugoslavia and then to Spain. Those are big for film-making these days. You can hire Spanish soldiers by the regiment, and Andalusia is perfect for Westerns.”

“It’s odd that you should mention Spain. I’ve thought of going there myself.”

“Have you? Well, from March first I’m going to be in the Grand Hotel of Almería. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to see you there.”

“It’s a good change for you,” I said.

“You always wished me well, Charlie. I know that,” said Kathleen.

“This has been a big Humboldt day, a major day, an accelerating spiral since this morning and I’m in a very emotional state; At Uncle Waldemar’s nursing home, to add to the excitement, I met a man I’ve known since I was a kid. Now you’re here. I’m all worked up.”

“I heard from Huggins that you were going to Coney Island. You know, Charlie, there were times in Nevada when I thought you were overdoing your attachment to Humboldt.”

“That’s possible, and I’ve tried to check it. I ask myself, why so much enthusiasm? As a poet or thinker his record wasn’t all that impressive. And I’m not longing for the good old days. Is it that the number of people who got serious about Art and Thought in the USA is so small that even those who flunked out are unforgettable?” Here we were closer to the real topic. I meant to interpret the good and evil of Humboldt, understand his ruin, translate the