Herzog by Saul Bellow Read Free Book Online Page A

irresistible to a man like Simkin who loved to pity and to poke fun at the same time. He was a Reality-Instructor. Many such. I bring them out. Himmelstein is another, but cruel. It's the cruelty that gets me, not the realism. Of course Simkin knew all about Madeleine's affair with Valentine Gersbach, and what he didn't know his friends Pont-ritter and Tennie would tell him.
        Tennie had led a bohemian life for thirty-five years, following her husband as if she had married a grocer not a theatrical genius, and she remained a kindly, elder-sister sort of woman, with long legs. But the legs went bad, and her dyed hair turned stiff and quill-like. She wore butterfly-shaped eyeglasses, and "abstract" jewelry.
        What if I did come to see you? asked Herzog.
        Then I'd sit in your parlor being nice, while bursting with the wrongs your daughter did me. The same wrongs you have accepted from Pontritter, and forgiven him.
        She prepares the old man's income-tax returns for him. Keeps all his records, washes his socks. Last time, I saw his socks drying on the radiator in her bathroom. And she had been telling me how happy she was now that she was divorced-free to go her own way and develop her own personality.
        I'm sorry for you, Tennie.
        But that beautiful masterful daughter of yours came to your apartment with Valentine, didn't she, and sent you with your little granddaughter to the zoo while they made love in your bed. He with the gushing red hair, and she with the blue eyes, beneath. What am I supposed to do now-come and sit and talk about plays and restaurants? Tennie would tell him about that Greek place on Tenth Avenue. She already had told him half a dozen times. "A friend"
        (pontritter himself, of course) "took me to dinner at the Marathon. It was really so different.
        You know, the Greek people cook ground meat and rice in grape leaves, with very interesting spices. Anybody who feels like it can dance solo. The Greek people are very uninhibited. You should see those fat men take off their shoes and dance in front of the whole crowd."
        Tennie spoke with a girlish sweetness and affection to him, obscurely fond of him. Her teeth were like the awkward second teeth of a seven-year-old child.
        Oh, yes, thought Herzog. Her condition is worse than mine. Divorced at fifty-five, still showing off her legs, unaware they now are gaunt. And diabetic. And the menopause. And abused by her daughter. If in self-defense, Tennie has a bit of wickedness, hypocrisy, and cunning of her own, how can you blame her? Of course she gave us, or lent-it was sometimes a loan and sometimes a wedding present comt hand-wrought Mexican silver cutlery, and she wants it back. That's why she sent word through Simkin about her hurt feelings. She doesn't want to lose her silver. It's not exactly cynical, either. She wants to be friends, and she wants the silver too. It's her treasure.
        It's in the vault, in Pittsfield.
        Too heavy to lug to Chicago. I'll return it, of course. By and by.
        I never could hang on to valuables-silver, gold.
        With me, money is not a medium. I am money's medium. It passes through me-taxes, insurance, mortgage, child support, rent, legal fees.
        All this dignified blundering costs plenty. If I married Ramona, it would be easier, perhaps.
        The cab was held up by trucks in the garment district. The electric machines thundered in the lofts and the whole street quivered. It sounded as though cloth were being torn, not sewn. The street was plunged, drowned in these waves of thunder. Through it a Negro pushed a wagon of ladies' coats. He had a beautiful beard and blew a gilt toy trumpet.
        You couldn't hear him.
        Then the traffic opened and the cab rattled in low gear and jerked into second. "For Christ's sake, let's make time," the driver said. They made a sweeping turn into Park Avenue and Herzog clutched the