
The text mentions one song entitled “Don’t Sit Under the
Apple Tree” as well as the American Anthem. (As those who have read my first post will note, this is my second encounter with the
anthem in a work of fiction.)
Three high school freshmen develop an asymmetrical
friendship over the course of the year. While the narrator is an average
student, Alberto “Albie” Pelagutti and Duke “The Duke” Scarpa are out of reform
school. The narrator first meets Albie who is determined to do well and turn
things around in his life. The Duke, however, has a very different approach to
secondary education. There are also two authority figures worth naming: Mr. Russo,
the Occupations teacher and Mr. Wendell, the principal.
Though the backgrounds and attitudes of the three
friends differ greatly, they all join forces to bring an orderly chaos to the
class of Mr. Russo. The system for predicting future careers (known as “Occupations”)
and their teacher’s blind adhesion to it puts the teenagers under a great deal
of psychological stress. What follows in the next paragraph is their revenge.
As their teacher turns around to write on the board,
all the students bend to tie their shoelaces. Slightly annoyed with their antics,
the teacher acknowledges the effort and asks his class to resume work. But this
is only half the joke. Now, following Albie’s lead, the students all sing
“Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree.” Mr. Russo’s confusion reaches its apex. After
a brief moment of silence, the class starts to sing “The Star-Spangled Banner”,
forcing their teacher to join in.
Interestingly, the fun World War II song has been
weaponized. Its impact in the text is reinforced by the use of italics and
verse format. The imperative on display in the lyrics and their joyful
interpretation of the anthem help create a picture of a group of students who,
for a brief moment, reclaim control over their lives. Later, a revelation about
Russo’s past makes the anthem sequence even more ironic.
The narrator’s description of his friends’ performance
completes the portraits of Albie and Duke. The verb used for Pelagutti is
“boom”. He doesn’t so much sing as he explodes. And as for the precision of his
singing, his line is a “monotone.” The second time the verb “boom” is used, it
is coupled with the adverb “disastrously.” Scarpa has a “crooner’s voice”.
Here, it is interesting to match these descriptions with the animals used to
represent the two characters: Pelagutti is a “hippopotamus” and Scarpa a “serpent”.
While the rest of the class claps “in time” to the first song (I’m guessing 2
and 4), Duke claps “to a tango beat”.
Finally, the episode also explores psychoacoustics as
our narrator listens to his friends’ voices fill the room. As one would expect
from the previous descriptions, Albie’s vocal presence is more jagged: “And
next to me, beside me, inside me, all over me—Albie!” Duke’s vocal presence is
smoother, though just as powerful: “a thick liquid crooner’s voice […] bathed
me in sound.” In the exhilaration of the narrator, a single voice is
assimilated to water. One can only imagine what poor Mr. Russo feels as he
faces the improvised choir.
Roth,
Philip. “You Can’t Tell A Man by The Song He Sings.” Goodbye, Columbus, Bantam
Books, 1969, pp. 167-177
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