After the War by Daniel Stern

After the War by Daniel Stern

Author:Daniel Stern [Stern, Daniel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4804-4417-1
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2013-08-16T00:26:00+00:00


21

“I’VE GOT IT: THE perfect name for the magazine,” Will said.

“What?” I asked.

“The American Review.” He paused for plaudits.

“Why—American ?”

“Don’t you see?” he said, exasperated. “After the first World War the writers stayed on, became expatriates—and started little magazines in Paris. Today it’s different. The important writers of the last twenty years have been Americans—lots of them, anyway.” He caressed the little ginger kitten he’d brought with him from his cat-ridden home.

“Yes …” I was unconvinced.

“So what this title does is point out that the world is ready for American writing, American thinking.”

“Is it?”

“It better be—or it better start. Where’s the English or French war novel that’s as good as The Naked and the Dead?”

“That’s true.”

“Anyway, that’s the title. And don’t you see how great it will be to have a piece by Jean-Paul Sartre appear in an American Review? Get it?” The kitten made a wild leap at an imaginary shadow and landed in a corner near the window. Then it lost interest and curled up into a tiny ball.

“I get it,” I said.

“Besides, it will help me raise backing. The war is only just behind us—patriotism and all that.” He stood up and brushed the cat hair from his trousers.

“And all that.” I nodded.

“Listen, Richard. Would you mind if I stayed here tonight? Jesse and I had some words …”

“Okay.”

“Jesus—this girl Nina doesn’t have much furniture, does she? I’ll take the couch.”

“If you insist,” I said.

“Sure I’m not putting you out? Jemmy, I mean!”

“For the next five days nothing matters. The wedding party for Jeremiah takes precedence over all. Are you and Jesse going to get divorced?”

“I don’t know. We’ve been separated twice. I guess once more is the mystical number.”

“In that case—get out. I don’t want the responsibility.”

“This is just to give her a chance to cool down. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Silence. Then: “What are you going to the Gordon party as?”

“What?”

“You know—it’s a masquerade: characters from the thirties.”

“Oh. That’s been switched. It was Jemmy’s idea. But Margaret got wind of it and said no. She wants some dignity, I guess.”

“Who’s Margaret?”

“Jeremiah’s bride.”

“Oh. Must be rough on Jemmy.”

“Yes.”

“Still, she has you.”

“Tell her that.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Thanks.”

“Guess who I was coming as?”

“Can’t.”

“Ford Madox Ford. My predecessor. He founded the Transatlantic Review.”

“Sorry. Save it for another masquerade party.”

“I have my own surprise for the party.”

“Oh?”

“You’ll have to wait.”

“I’ll wait. Good night, Will.”

“Good night, Richard.”

Silence. Then: “The American Review. Edited by Will Green. Published by Jeremiah Gordon. Beautiful!”

“Will?”

“What?”

“If you had words, as you delicately put it, with Jesse—how come you brought the kitten with you?”

“Twelve kittens: chaos. One kitten: companionship. Good night.”

“Good night.”



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