Skip to main content

"Hesitant, Clever, Nervous, Gentle"


Philip Roth wrote a novella with a title in the form of a farewell address: Goodbye, Columbus.

Neil Klugman, the narrator, begins a relationship with Brenda Patimkin. The Patimkins are wealthier than Neil’s family. He lives with his aunt in Newark while Brenda’s family lives in Short Hills.

The story mentions Kostelanetz and Mantovani. Song titles such as “Night and Day,” “I Get a Kick out of You,” “Get Me to the Church on Time” as well as the musical My Fair Lady appear in the text. It is only in the second half of the novella that music gains more textual territory.

However, the most wonderful passage on musical expression can be read in the first half of the story. And it doesn’t concern any existing song. Nor does it relate to a musical genre. Neil and Brenda, our two young lovers, learn to express their feelings for one another in an exchange of improvised lines that is both timid and playful. The author uses the word “dithyrambs” and a string of adjectives that could be used to describe the relationship as a whole: “hesitant, clever, nervous, gentle.” This creative moment seems to breathe life into feelings which had not quite manifested themselves in the early stages of romance. Musical expression is an act of self-discovery.

Most of the musical references come from Ron’s character, Brenda’s older brother. When he engages Neil in conversation, he immediately mentions his record collection (Kostelanetz and Mantovani). He asks his sister’s boyfriend which conductor he prefers. It’s a tie. Ron’s musical ignorance and Neil’s snobbish irony are exposed at once. As readers, we tend to side with the narrator. When Ron attempts to sing along with Andre Kostelanetz’s rendition of “Night and Day,” Neil can’t recognize the tune.  

The effect is comical but there is something deeper going on. The subject of music emerges at a time when the older brother’s life is about to change forever. As limited as his knowledge is, Ron is searching for something in the music. In fact, his third musical reference concerns a mystery record which will haunt Neil for a long time. His first partial encounter with the record inspires a strange dream. Later, as Ron tries to bond with him and invites him to his room, the narrator hears the whole affair and gives a lengthy description.

Musical references often underline Neil’s fears of inadequacy. In his mind, Ron’s athletic stature is that of a giant and the music Ron listens to aligns with that perception. Of course, the “semi-classical” conductors are about excess but it is hard to separate this reasonably objective comment from Neil’s perception. Thus, the aforementioned interpretation of “Night and Day” “[lets] several thousand singing violins loose.” The lyrical onslaught echoes the domestic battleground which the Patimkin household has become. Neil feels crushed and the fact that Ron looks “colossal” on his bed doesn’t alleviate the feeling.

The narrator’s awe is again on display as he watches Carlota, the Patimkins’ maid, cook and sing at the same time. Neil marvels at the ease with which she seems to connect her actions to “I Get a Kick out of You.” Perhaps, music is a strategy for self-preservation. The guest feels a spiritual bond between himself and the maid, despite the fact that she does not return his greeting.

Apart from the fact that they were popular numbers, it is hard to tell whether or not the rat pack titles have a special significance. “Get Me to the Church on Time” from My Fair Lady is a different matter. The tune, much like Mr. Patimkin’s hands which rest on each of the lovebirds, unites Neil, Brenda and her father for a brief moment. Before Brenda answers her father’s question “You kids having a good time?”, the trio is “sort of swaying” to the Broadway song.


Roth, Philip. Goodbye, Columbus, Bantam Books, 1969, pp. 1-97.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Quarante musiciens

Tourgueniev a écrit une nouvelle intitulée "Eau de framboise". Ce nom désigne une source qui se jette dans la rivière Ista. Nous retrouvons le chasseur-narrateur en une chaude journée d'été. Il rencontre deux vieillards appelés Stiopouchka et Mikhaïl Savélitch, alias "Brouillard". Le premier assiste le second dans sa partie de pêche. Stiopouchka est un être peu considéré par sa communauté. Il mène une existence de marginal. "Brouillard" était majordome avant d'être émancipé par son maître, le Comte Piotr Ilitch. Pour vanter la « fastueuse hospitalité » du comte, le narrateur nous parle de ses musiciens et de leur « bruit assourdissant » (p. 100). Nous apprenons un peu plus loin que l’orchestre comptait quarante musiciens. C’est « Brouillard » lui-même qui apporte cette précision.   Cette évocation nous entraîne sur le terrain de l’anecdote. L’orchestre était dirigé par un maître de chapelle venu spécialement d'Allemagne (p. 103). Le jou...

"Wake up the Dead"

In this second article on Akira Mizubayashi's novel Âme brisée , we will explore two activities: listening to music and performing music.    What works does the author mention in his novel? Two works are essential to the novel: the  Rosamunde  string quartet by Franz Schubert and the “Gavotte en Rondeau” from J.S. Bach's third partita. They appear numerous times, providing rhythm and thematic unity to the text. There appears to be a form of dialog between the two works, or at least, a complementarity. One expresses melancholy, the other carelessness; one is performed in its entirety, the other is an extract. Readers witness this duality the very first time the works are mentioned: Schubert's music is heard in an environment of kinship and benevolence; Bach's music is heard in an atmosphere of terror and despair.  Thus, music helps to balance out the dramatic tension of the novel. How to position oneself with regard to the repertoire in times of war is...

"Grandiose, in a corrupted romantic style"

Next up in our cast for Ian McEwan's revisiting of Hamlet is Claude, the hero’s uncle.   He conspires to kill his brother, John, with the help of his lover (and sister-in-law), Trudy. She is pregnant with our hero-narrator, whose hatred of Claude has some roots in the man's musical ignorance. The patronym brings about the first mention of a European composer. Whenever he introduces himself, the plotting uncle says “Claude, as in Debussy,” so as to help with the pronunciation of his name. This does not fail to disgust our narrator. (Chapter One, p. 5). For the man seems to revel in his ignorance. Claude conjures up the French composer's name as a mere icebreaker, without any interest for the composer’s works.  Our fetus-narrator sets us right immediately: “This is Claude as in property developer who composes nothing, invents nothing.” At the beginning of Chapter Three, the narrator tries to understand who his uncle really is. The description addresses the musical featu...