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Select the best in popular albums from this

598

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TENA HORNE E=
At me WALDORF ASTRA

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П more laugh-petters,

19. Lush, rhythmic,

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Oh Lonesome Me,

Every month you are offered a wide
variety of albums (up to 200 a year).
One will be singled out as the album-
of-the-month, If you want it, you do
nothing; it will come to you antomati-
cally. If you prefer an alternate — or
nothing at all— simply state your
wishes on a form always provided. For
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$3.98, at times $4.98; for stereo al-
bums you will pay the nationally ad-
vertised price of $198, at times $5.58
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postage and handling).

12-INCH 33% R.P.M.

21. Cha chas, hot and
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SING FAMOUS HITS

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E 14. Fresh versions of 15. Tilting versions
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ARTHUR
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Ws AURight Prisoner v
with Me, All of You,

Margie, Sleepy-Time Cal, folk favorites plus Harry Care of You, Ms ^s Renitched. The Thrill Is His Hands, Whither Thou Lallaky of» Birdlond,
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Regular (monaural) long-plaving

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ве. Exciting, exotic J <; , 3 Benin the Беште,
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roll singersonew
hit versions of 7 Go Ape,
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Mods and 207. Elegant piano ver-
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m
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Em h Mere
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LOOMIS

PLAYBILL

LARDNER
THE ONLY ARI кокм born within the
memory of living men is the art of the
moving picture. A prince named H

called plays and actors “the
id brief chronicles of the time,” but in
our own day, the legitimate stage and
even the written word have been usurped

15 chronicles of the time by the movies.
A double-edged reflection of 1 influ-
ence upon our society, movies therefor
rate the attention being paid to them
n this April PLAYBOY:

Dalton Trumbo investigates Holly-
wood's Academy Awards in The Oscar
Syndrome. Trumbo is a many-faceted
writer. He is a novelist (Twentieth Cen-
tury Authors calls him “a novelist of
intensity and power") whose indictment.
of war, Johnny Got His Gun, has just
been republished, twenty years after its
first appearance; he is a ight,
whose The Biggest Thief in Town ran
for two years in London; and he is a
screenwriter, the man. responsible for a
stack of standout scripts, among them
A Man to Remember, Kitty Foyle, Our
Vines Have Tender Grapes, The Brave
One. This last won him an Oscar —
which he has not yet received. because
of the confusion resulting from the fact
that he wrote the picture under the
name of “Robert Rich,” a course forced
upon him as one of the blacklisted
Hollywood Ten (called before the House
Un-Am 1 Activities committee dur
ing the Red scare of 1948, he refused to
state whether or not he had ever been a
Communist; was charged with contempt
of Congress, fined $1000, sentenced to a
year in prison). Later this year, Trum-
bo's real name may appear on a screen.
play for the first time in twelve years
“This, in Hollywood,” Trumbo assures
us, “would be an almost unparalleled cx-
ample of freedom, truth and virtue.”

Arthur Knight explores the weird
world of experimental art movies in

The Far Out Films. Screen critic for
Saturday Review, author of the book
The Liveliest Art, Knight is addition
ally qualified to write on art films by h
love for the best of them, his abhorrence
of the worst of them, his intense inter-
est in all of them.

pLavsoy Picture Editor Vincent T.
goes into an entirely different
aspect of films, the home movie, in his
help-packed article on how to roll your
own, Lights! Action! Camera! crack
lensman himself, Vince has been head-
ing up cur Photo Department since
ly '57, before which he was Editorial
Director of three thriving photo publi-
ations simultaneously. PLAYBOY readers
will recall his The Well Equipped Lens-
man (eLaysoy, June 1958). This issue's
portfolio of comment on the movies
would be incomplete without pictorially
reporting on one of moviedom's many
sexpots, and we've chosen a particularly
sensational young lady to represent this
charming element of the international
film industry: she’s the new Argent
beauty, Isabel Sarlis.

But there's a lot more than mo
am-packed April рілувоу. Ther
Weincr's Tax Vobiscum, in which
he gets down to brass tax on how to
fork over less-than-usual dough to the
Internal Re without ending up
in Alcatraz. s fiction and humor
by A. C. Spectorsky, T. К. Brown Ш,
Ken Purdy, Rex Lardner; and a novel:
cue, The Bargain, by Edward Loomis,
uthor of the novels End of a War (1958)
id The Charcoal Horse (1956) and the
forthcoming Knopf collection, Heroic
Lowe, The Bargain is a story of occupa-
many, a milieu Loomis knows
: he served with the 104th Infantry
sion in the European Theatre of
Operations. Is that all in this issue? We
could say isn't that enough; but the fact
is there's lots more, Take а look.

SPECTORSKY

TRUMBO

KNIGHT

Knowledgeable people buy Imperial

and they buy it by the case

DEAR PLAYBOY

EJ] aooress PLAYBOY MAGAZINE . 232 E. OHIO 5

CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS

JAMAIC
Your piece on Jamaica
praise. It was fun to read — charmingly
written — and. really useful. too. I have
been thinking about going to Jamaica
for a while — we hear a good deal about
it these days — but this is the first article
I have seen that has helped me make up
my mind, not only because it is enthusi-
astic (they all are) but because it is at
the same time practical.
Karl Rodgers
New York, New York

deserves

1 have just finished reading A. C.
Spectorsky's article on Jamaica in the
January PLaynoy, I found it so pro-
Vocative and gay that I wanted to com-
pliment you on it. If the point of
travel article is to make the reader want
to go to the place, your lad has certainly
succeeded. 1 am prompted to write for
reservations for next winter right now

as I observe that he advises advance
bookings if one doesn’t want to be dis-
appointed.

Tika Chase
New York, New York

A. С. Spectorsky's piece on Jamaica in
the January issue of pLayvoy is the best
thing you've run since your picture of
Joyce Nizari in December 1958. In
fact, Mr. Spectorsky's honeyed words
worked me up to such a pitch that I
forthwith bought plane tickets for my
wife Phyllis and myself, and we'll soon
be winging our way to Round Hill,
Jamaica, for a fortnight of vacation
there. We'll be toasting Mr. Spectorsky
and rLaynoy with every rum collins —
or at least with every other one — that
we hoist!

Bennett Cerf
New York, New York

XE, MENE, TEKEL

I thank John Sack for his enlighten:
ing January discourse on graffiti, a sub-
ject that has intrigued me for years. My
specialty is subway pillars and wall
what better way to wait for a Brooklyn-
bound wain late at night? In exchang
for the delight in reading Mr. Sack's
article, 1 would like to offer some help

in solving the mejores no hay mystery.
For onc thing, it means “There are none
better" rather than “There is nothin
better than." Mejores no hay is the
advertising slogan for the Phillips Razor
(spelled. Raisor), an electric shaver that
has a lot of popularity in Europe. I
don't know if the lively Spaniards have
taken the slogan to heart and are the
scribblers, or if its the work of paid
agents. PLAYBOY . . . mejores no hay!
Irwin Gooen
Brooklyn, New York

On the walls of the New York subway
system there appears a request to "Sup-
port Mental He 1 am quite cer-
tain that a single individual is respon-
sible for this appeal, since the writing
is neatly characteristic. Whoever docs
it must be ten feet tall, because he
places his work out of reach of the aver-
e person (over stairways, on ceilings).

Andrew Braun

Cambridge, Massachusetts
Or perhaps just six feet tall and sit-
ting on the shoulders of a friend?

Re John Sack's article on graffiti in
your January issue: During the past year
or so I have seen, all over the west coast
of Florida, the inscription “Elephants
are contagious” (not courageous,
tagious)!

con-

Irving Klein
Tampa, Florida

PLAYBOY KEY CLUB
The Playboy Key Club sounds like
great fun — but will memberships be re-
stricted to the male sex?
Gloria Larrabee
Los Angeles, California
Yes. Ви! members of the fair sex can
enjoy the urbane aimosphere of the
clubs by selecting their escorts from
among that elite corps of Playboy Key
Club members.

PRANKHOOD

Please forgive my writing a leter on
the back of an old script page — I'm jot
ting this at rehearsal. 1 laughed at your
November article on stage pranks. though
really I think it had more legend than

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it. The best prank 7 know of took
place during radio’s big days. During the
war Alan Reed was in the Phillip Morris
Playhouse 8 to 8:30. He was also playing
in the Broadway show Hope for a Har
west. After the radio show's rehearsal he
Nad to dash to the theatre to dress and
make up. then come back for the
show, then back to the theatre in time for
his entrance. This time the radio show
was canceled just before they went on
the air because of a Presidential speech
It was decided to do the show anyway
just for the studio audience. Alan got
there just in time and they didn't tell
him they weren't on the air. The actors
began to make mistakes: one didn't come
in on Alan's cuc— just looked at him and
then started to read one of his lines with
him, then said “I'm sorry.” One dropped
his script and said
tried to cover up exeryone's mistakes and
make it look like part of the show. He
kept nodding to the director reassuringly
and winking at the audience. His shirt
turned black from sweat right there in
front of a thousand people. The best
word transposition 1 know of took place
in radio, too. Bartlett Robinson, playing
in The Second Mrs. Burton, got the line

zoddamnit." Alan

ve come to call on Mary" wrong end
to, with disastrous results.

"Tony Randall
Hollywood, California

When Prankhood Was in Flower was
really enjoyable. Have you heard this
anecdote? Tallulah Bankhead was play
ing a femme fatale in some play (can't
remember the title) and was lolling se
ductively on a canopicd four-poster bed.
She pulled the cord to summon the
butler. No butler appeared, so she ad
libbed for a while and then yanked the
cord again. Still nothing: more ad-lib;
another yank: and finally the butler en-
tered, cool as the proverbial cucumber.
and delivered his standard line, “Did
you ring, madam?” To which Tallu bel-
lowed: “Ring? Hell, no, I was tolling
T thought you were dead!”
Lars Nordmark

anston, Illinois

Rolf. Malcoln theatrical
s was first-rate. More than that, this
was the first time I had seen pLaynoy.
I do not know why this should have
been, but somehow it escaped me, and 1
enjoyed the magazine immenscly.

Moss Hart

New York, New York

article on

MORAVIA'S CRIME

I find, as à general rule, that pLavnoy
is one of the better magazines on today's
market. This applies in particular to the
fiction. However, I think that Moravia's
Grime at the Tennis Glub in your De-
cember issue was quite a good deal below
I found it exceedingly vulgar in
both its plot (if any) and its descriptions.

THE SEAFORTH El HIGHLANDERS І

Kandahar, Afghanistan—1880: Alter a forced march of 303
miles in searing desert heat, this famous Scottish regiment
launched fierce bayonet attacks against marauding tribes-
men—slashed their way to victory in hand-to-hand combat!
For 11" x 14" prints of three Seaforth battles, send 25¢ and
front of any Seaforth carton to: Seaforth, P.O. Box 60, Mt.
Vernon 10, N. Y.

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PLAYBOY

New... “Warsaw Concerto”
and other great movie music
by the Boston Pops

Arthur Fiedler and the incomparable Boston Pops in a festival

of dramatic film scores that have become modern classics.
Included are “Intermezzo,” “Laura,” “Around the World,”
“Moulin Rouge,” and others. In Living Stereo or Regular L.P.

A new record hit of the Golden 60's ... on RCA MV n

on e

Texas Playboys holler down
Alaskan claim -

BACARDI

ENJOYABLE ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS

© BACARDI IMPORTS, INC., NY.
i Rum, 80 proof

"We had

Bacardi Parties

before Nome
had a name!

Last month in these pages we reported that
Alaskan playboys laid claim to the inven-
tion of the Bacardi Party. Not so, say the
Longhorn Playboys: Texas is the mother
of this invention.

As we hope you know, a Bacardi Party

is where the guests bring Bacardi, and the
host supplies the mixings—as many as he
can turn up! That’s fun, pardner. (In
Michigan. we hear, they've invented
Bacardi and Cider!)
So have yourself a Bacardi Party. Born
in Texas (they claim) but great for the
entire nation. Only remember—No Bacardi
Party can be a Bacardi Party without
Bacardi.

It was pointless, tasteless, and insipid.
Not to mention just plain dull

John Pacello

Twentynine Palms, California

® It is a rare issue of praynoy that con-

tains any feature that docs not hold my
t, but as an ardent
I might mention to you that 1
considered Crime at the Tennis Club to
be the height of poor taste. I think
Alberto. Moravia is a demented and
dangerous man

М. R. Whitman

San Francisco, California

PLAYBOY

PLAYBOY IN COLOMBIA

Just renewed my subscription to

рілувоу. Couldn't do without it down

here. Want to congratulate you on a

wonderful mag and hope you have a

fabulous 1960. Whatever you do, don't

ever lose Jules Feiffer and his cartoons
They are the greatest.

R. Keith Maidens

Assistant Manager

Hotel Tequendama

Bogota, Colombia

MISSING PERSON
Your January cover listed the names
of many stellar gentlemen whose work
appeared in the issues interior. Among
the names was that of the late Jack Cole.
But nothing by Cole was offered in the
magazine. A macabre jok
Frank Derman
Cambridge, Massachusetts
No; a plain and simple goof. Post-
humous work by Cole was planned for
January but was held for a future issue
because of space restrictions. Too late,
we realized we had listed his name on
the cover.

DOWN WITH SPONSORS

М Morgan's December article, And
Now, a Word from the Sponsor, is well
ely!) quite true
The sponsor is definitely the rotten egg
in this mess and as long as he foots the
Dill the select few will have to endure the
present TV programs
while quietly dreaming of better things
to come.

written and (unfortun

agony of watchin

Peter Frankel
Jamaica, New York

1 was indignant when I read Al Mor
gan's article about TY sponsors and their
litle games. I was also frustrated, until
1 realized Morgan had described the cure
along with the disease. Fellow Sulferers!
Let us complain to the sponsor! Not to
the ad agency — to the sponsor, prefer
ably to the president of the sponsoring
firm in a semiliterate letter marked “per
sonal.” Let me remind you:
hypersensitive to the public’s responses.
They don't want a single one of us slobs
mad at them. OK, give them something
t worry about. Complain carly

ponsors are

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PLAYBOY

12

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often and, for God's sake, don't be rea-
able! Complain about something spe-
not about something vague li

bad taste or stupidity.
Lawrence Sladki
Berkeley, Calif

The December article by Al Morgan
t American Plague, the
id,

about our G
sponsor, was v
proved that the sponsors are the obs
to really good television.
Kivve Sneide
Hopedale, Ma:

formative, and

husets

ial piece.

A sharp, dinical, reportor

you and
ng spon-
tention.
This problem seems worthy of further
ation. Consequently, I propose
that you give your readers the inform:
tion necessary for us to register our come
nt. If we knew each month that sev-
scripts in the forthcoming month
had been distorted or censored due to
the pressure of sponsors, we might do two
fuse to м
n. Just the knowledge th:
l group of individuals was refusi
even watch his program and its adve
Using, would gnaw the hell out of any
«cond, those interested in g
her would have the infe
ary to write the sp

nate
of. It might be appropri
in your Playboy After Hours section. Or,
if this might put you in a libelous ро
tion, why not known to TV
seriptwriters oducers that you wel-
come responsible letters from them re-
ncidents? T

e two

ad |

consider this an indi ion of good faith.
L. Keith M
University City, Missouri

TEEVEE JEEBIE
shed reading your Jan
we Jeebies. Many thanks fc
{ never laughed so much in

my life,

Onin Wright
Am an Emi
Teheran,

I really enjoyed your Teevee Jeebi
last July but d est collection i
your January issue is even better! Let's
have more of them.

ry E. Th
Лапа, Ohio

mpson

PLAYBOY

AFTER HOURS

¢ were alarmed to hear about the
sede cts Dol saat
some Burmese ants. According to AP,
two determined formic armies, consist
ing of half-inch brown emmets twice the
size of normal Burmese red ants, met on
a chosen field of battle, a four-mile
area near Mong Khapar in North Burma,
and, with antennae flashing, did their
level best to eradicate each other in
what turned out to be a tiny but fierce
Armageddon. The victors, obviously the
fittest of the species, weren't. satisfied,
however, with merely the day;
if the Kachin tribesmen who wimessed
the massacre may be believed, the win
ners decapitated the vanquished and,
ignoring the carcasses, carried only the
heads back to the ant hills of home. The
Bloody roit hanne uf wih preti oa
furiatingly unanswerable questions. For
instance, what inexorable, mysterious
forc moved two masses of Formicoidea
(the most socially civilized form of life
extant, we're told) to suddenly call a
halt to amicable relations and butcher
cach other? Was it a territorial dispute?
Were there ideological differences? Had
ı leader of one faction been insulted or
assassinated? Was there a sneak attack
оп some strategic outpost? Were their
bellies simply empty? Or were they, per-
haps, just sick of soft living and were
out pour le sport? Also, we wonder why
the losers were beheaded. As far as we
know, ants, even angry ants, aren't can-
nibalistic. Did they mount the heads
and hang them on the walls of their
game rooms? And, of course, now that
the stronger army has won the war, can
it say it won the peace? Have the tr
umphant accomplished anything more
than bringing cheer to human Burm
picnickers? Imaginative writers used to
do a lot of talking about ants conquer

winni:

ing us humans someday. The ants’ keen
intelligence and relentless logic were
often mentioned. Could be, but we think
humankind has little to fear from crea-
tures as confused as ourselves

Yes, Virginia, there is such a thing as
Progress. In 1872, Zachary U. Geiger,
proprictor of an enterprising carriage
and wagon works, posted these rules of
conduct for his help: “This office will be
open at 7 am. and close at 8 Pat., daily
except on the Sabbath, on which day it
will remain closed. Men employees will
given an evening off each week for
courting purposes, or two evenings if
they go regularly to church. Any em-
ployee who smokes Spanish cigars, uses

ata

be

liquor in any form, gets shaved
barber shop. or frequents pool or public
halls, will give a good reason to suspect
his worth, intentions, integrity, and
honesty

O Tempora O Mores Department: In
ishington, D.C. the Eatmore Sand-
wich Shop has decided to change its

name to the Eaunost

That sardonic, socially critical journal,
The Realist, calls our attention to "an
educational toy" called The Visible Man,
the pushers of which claim kids can dig
the “complete” anatomical structure of
Man Proud Man by jigsawing the vari-
ous parts together, making de foot bone
connect to de ankle bone, etc. "It does
ишу educate the child for this culture,"
snaps the magazine, for, as they realisti-
cally point out, The Visible Man pos-
sesses no — or Invisible? — reproductive
equipment.

Who remembers: Amos "n"

bars? . . . comic chi

Andy candy
cters Mush Steb-

bins, Dinglehoofer Und His Dog
Krazy Kat, Don Winslow,
llers, the Toonerville Folks?

The Singing Lady? Mickey
Mouse watches? . . . Indian head bubble
gum cards? ... button candy? . . .Base-
Dall Joe, the Boy Allies, Jerry Todd,
Bomba the Jungle Boy, Ralph of the
Roundhouse? . . . “Knock-knock” jokes?
-.. boys’ knickers? . .. sun pictures? . . .
Big Little Books? . . - marathon dances?
-.. former G-man Melvin Purvis?

backyard troubadours who sang for coins
a cereal
. Tumble seats? . .

wrapped in brown paper?
called. Force? CE
cream cup covers with pictures of movie
stars on the back? . . . cigarettes called
Sensations and Chelseas? . . . kids’ wagons
made of orange crates and skate wheels?
. . rock candy? . .. Good Humor lucky
sticks? . . . the Lambeth Walk, the Susie
Q. the Black Bottom, the Big Apple,
Truckin’? . . . jelly apples or apples on
a stick? . . . cars called the Essex, Reo,
Cord? . . . a chewing gum called Bi
. Sunday comic section "lucky
«+ . Rubinoff, Evelyn and their
respective violins? , . . the photographer
who traveled around the neighborhood
with a pony? . . . Frank Munn?

The Editor-and-Publisher of Editor
& Publisher signs himself Publisher and
Editor.

For that segment of the populace th;
gets its kicks by relegating things to
the categories of IN or out, writer Bill
Dana of the Steve Allen show has come
up with the pLawboy version of this par
lor game. Some belly buttons, for in
stance, are IN. Others are our
who are at home are iN. People who
at the movies are our. A druggist who

People
re

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has no more pistachio is out. Green |
akcets are ovr if you leave the cage door
open. A person who loses a grand lar
ceny case is i. His lawyer is our. Either
your ruptured appendix is our, or you're
i. General Grant is i. Glenn Miller is
ovr. Dentists can bc either IN or ow
Three strikes are ост. Guys who wear
bananas in their ears may be our, but
they should be ix. And, of course, when
you make our with a girl, you're Iw.
When it’s over, you're ou.

The journalistically fearless Detroit
Free Press, in listing of bestsellers,
boldly describes Lady Chatlerley's Lover
as “A post-World War I novel about a
childless couple.” By which standards,
say we, Lolita is a post-Workl W.
novel about a traveling widow

On a wall of New York Citys Hayden
ctarium, there is an clectric sign
directing visitors: 10 SOLAR SYSTEM. AND
REST ROOMS.

FILMS

By now the secret must be out about
the identity of 59200/5. Our Man in
Hoveno; and also the fact that the film
of that name is likely to be the funniest
of the year. Alec Gu
as a timid vacuum-cleaner salesman who
outwiis the British Secret Service (Noel
Coward and Ralph Richardson), the
Cuban police state (Batista, presum-
ably, represented by Ernie Kovacs, pl
ing it straight but broad) and any other
obstacles that might stand in the way
of a pleasant small-businessman. Guin-
ness takes h secret agent
only when d, in some hilari-
ously satirical scenes, practically forces
it on him. (Coward, briskly:
short of the invisible ink, you can use
bird droppings.) When Guinness dis
covers that he doesn't even. know. how.
to recruit informers, his best friend
(Burl Ives, playing а gentle German
doctor) suggests that he give his employ
ers what they deserve: lies, Here begi
the complications and a lot more fun.
Guinness’ fictions are taken for fact in
London; they send him a secreta
(Maureen O'Hara) and а radioman for
his obviously enormous operation. Soon
afterward all the make-believe begins
turning into horrible Twentieth Cen
tury reality, with its seemingly systematic
slaughter of the innocents. In this wild
combination of satire and melodrama
writer Graham Greene and director
Carol Reed get in some sly digs at poli-
licians, bureauerats, the military; and
some strong points in favor of human

ness is in top form

Tf you run

> whose primary loyalty is to love.
It’s the wildest since Some Like It Hot.

Suddenly, Last Summer is a movie that
lipped its id, since it deals with such
generally unmovielike themes as homo-
lity and cannibalism. As the film
we learn that Katie Hepburn's
son Sebastian has recently died, and in
a manner so ghastly that Elizabeth Tay-
lor, who was with him at the time, is
inhabiting a happy farm from the г
sultant shock. Kate wants Dr. Mont
somery Clift to do a lobotomy on Liz
ve her of the burden of memory
Clift decides instead to plumb Liz
psyche, and the plot uncoils like a tape-
worm of the libido: the son, it seems,
st, and used his mother
t handsome men for
himself, When mother's charms began
to fade with age, he latched onto Liz
Tor the same purpose. Playing his game
in a small Spanish town, he so enrages
a mob of halfsavage urchins that they
m and, ripping him apart,
ly devour him. The story, by Ten-
Williams and Gore Vidal from
Tennessee's show, Garden District, is
bizarre, but deft; horrifying, but skillful:
often repellent, but masterfu
Turns out that Liz Taylor can chew
scenery with the best of them, and what
little she leaves unmasticated is ably at-
tacked by la Hepburn. Unfortunatel
Clife’s performance wavers from indif-
ference to vacuity to ineptitude. Sam
Spiegel produced and Joe Mankiewicz
cted ably enough to ma
thing a thrilling-enough, more literate
average horror show worth seeing.

was limp of w

as bait to attr

е the whole

The script is old hat, the characters
are stock, the situations and witticisms
> painfully obvious, but Once More with
Fooling has a breakneck speed and dash
and a certain élan that deaden the aches
of the arthritic plot to make the movie
an enjoyable wisp of whimsey. Briefly,
the plot blossoms thusly: Yul Brynner,
a colossus among orchestra conductors,
after being caught flagrante delicto
le musical prodigy by his
late Kay Kendall, hits the
she'd like to many
mer than Yul, but
problem: as struggling
young bohemians, she and Brynner had
never bothered with conventions, so
now how cin she keep up appearances
and get a divorce when they've never
been married? Producer-director Stan-
ley Donen has mounted the picture
handsomely in London, and shown ex
cellent sense in casting: Brynner and
Kendall have themselves a hollering
good time, abetted by fine comedies
from Gregory Ratoff, Geoffery Toone
and Mervyn Johns. They're all spirited

someone a bit
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people having themselves a wacky ball
Chances are you will, too.

Frenchman Francois ("New Wave")
Truffaut's first feature, The 400 Bl
won the New York Film Critics’
urd for the best foreign film of 1959,
‚ we think, deservedly. The title, a
literal translation from the French, is
meaningless; closer in spirit would be
The Hell Raiser or Стазу Mixed-Up
Kid. Written, produced and directed by
‘Truffaut, the film deals with the adven:
tures of a pre-adolescent
linquent.” a lost and desperate French
kid who knows too much about his well-
meaning but all-too-human parents, and
who flees them and school only to face
the necessity of knowing more about
himself. Before that moment comes,
however, he lands in a reform school,
where one of the films most tellin
scenes takes place, one that embodies
Truffaut's and the film's style: the boy
(a superb actor named Jean-Pierre
Leaud) is being interrogated by an un-
seen girl psychiatricsocial-worker type:
for some tight unrelieved minutes you
watch only the boy as he undergoes а
battery of pertinent and impertinent

“juvenile de

questions, answering each of them (in
cluding the capper: “Have you ever

slept with a woman?" with painful
anguish and mistrust. but also honesty
and good humor. Time will tell how
much Truffaut has to say: in the mean
time he, and this movie, bear watching,

Take one university professor (Tony
Curtis): have his jealous wife (Janet

Leigh) see him getting kissed by a well-
rounded student: fold in one TV writer
friend (Dean Martin) with a melodra-
matic und imagination — and you
have the ingredients of a first-class farce,
Who Was That Lady?. Dean's dodge for
Tony: tell Janet that he's an under
cover FBI agent, and the coed he was
kissing is a suspected subversive. Janet
is about to give that tale the reaction it
deserves, when Tony produces a service
revolver and fake identification card,
whereupon the ruse works right well
Trouble is the real FBI gets curious
and assigns an ulcerous agent (James
Whitmore) to investigate. Meanwhile,
two burgeoning blondes (Barbara
Nichols and Joi Lansing) manage to
swivekhip their ways into the plot,
along with a group of properly un-
scrupulous Communist spies. The en-
tire mishmash winds up in the sub-
basement of the Empire State Building,
in a climax as happy and nutty as you
might wish. The principals are delt and
ils

man Krasna wrote the screenplay from
his own Broadway script, and George
Sidney directed slickly

obviously enjoy themselves hugely. Nor-

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PLAYBOY

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tunity to sec Indian director Satyajit
Ray's first works. it will be y
to learn that the final film in his wilogy
is now available here. The World of Apu
concludes the story begun in the master
piece Pather Panchali and continued in
1parajito. This is the story of Ари
maturity. The slender child and student
of the former films is now a man: he has
been forced to leave college for lack of
money; he remains in Calcutta, writing
autobic

at news

taphical stories and uying to
find work. Shortly after his first publi
cation, he impulsively marries. After
only a year together. his wife dies in
childbirth, and Apu wanders off. nearly
mad with grief. The final sequence, one
of the most movin

ever filmed. presents
the meeting between Apu and the five
year-old son he had never seen. and

their going off together. The mere re
counting ol the plot cannot begin to

h and the delicacy of
Ray's handling of his subject. A clue can
be found in the way in which he gradu
ally reveals Ариз wife: at first we see
her only in a long shot, not much more
than a child; slowly, v
her closer during the course of th
ecstatic year together, a very beautiful
young woman: it is only just before the
scene in which we learn of her death
that we see her in extreme close-up and
fully realize how incredibly beautiful

suggest the stren

y slowly, we see

she is. There are many other glories in
this film, including Ravi Shankar's per-
[есу appropriate music.

THEATRE

Saratoga is like a girl who has every

thing in her favor: beauty, breeding and
a dowry of $1,500,000 (in advance sales).
Does she have to have brains, too? The

answer would seem to be "Yes" Carol
Lawrence and Howard Keel are ideally
cast in the leading roles. The Johnny
Mercer-Harold Arlen score will do
nicely until they come up with a better
one. Cecil Beaton’s sets and costumes
for the haut monde of New Orleans and
Saratoga аге spectacularly handsome.
But director Morton DaCosta, who also
adapted Edna Ferber's novel, must take
the rap for a libretto that compounds its
clichés to the ultimate decimal point of
dullness. At the. Winter Garden. 1631
Broadway, NYC.

Four of the five members of the origi-
nal cast of Five Finger Exercise have crossed
the Atlantic to establish Peter Shaffer's
London hit as a needed shot-in-the-arm
for a faltering Broadway season. The
plot is slight but the characters are de-
lineated with significant detail: Roland
Culver plays a plebeian tycoon who is ill
at ease in his plushy country house,

Jessica Tandy (the new member of the
cast) acts his shallow snob of a wife who
has delusions of cultural superiority
Brian Bedford is their sensitive, con-
fused son and didate for Cambridge.
and Juliet Mills is the е daugh-
ter and the only cheerful, untroubled
member of the family. An outsider is
Michael Bryant, oung German
refugee who h: ired as the girl:
tutor, and whose alien though sympa
thetic presence in the house exposes the
fact that these normally fond and
telligent people are totally unable to
ate with each other. The au-
lation of unexpressed tensions
and frustrations ticks away as quictly as
a small time bomb until the moment of
plosion, when the tutors attempted

ide gives these mixed-up folks a shat-
impse of their spiritual

John s pre-
ly excellent cast
е play. At the
th Street, NYC.

poverty, Under S
cise direction, a unifor

fortifies this subtle, liter,
Music Box, 239 West

RECORDINGS

Much of the jazz we hear these d
is derivative stuff. Tenor men sound
like Rollins or Coltrane. Alto men con-
tinue to bear Birds legacy, Trumpeters
tum to Miles or Diz. Pianists look to
the fleetness of Peterson (or before him.
Tatum) or the funk of Silver. Orig
ity expresses itself in eccentricity or
valid, but fragmentary, attempts at in-
ajor exception is The-
us Monk ique manner of
pproaching the piano never has been
lustrously limned as it is on Thelonious
Alone in San Froncisco (Riverside 12-312).
Six of the tunes are Monk’s, including
а su е but romantic Ruby,
My Dear. Four others—Everything Hap-
pens to Me, You Took the Words Right
Ош of My Heart, Remember and There's
Danger in Your Eyes, Cherie — seem to
belong to Monk. Although he didn't
he flavors them with in

astute artistry; Heart. and
ticularly sp n the Monk-
dica
ass, drums
or horns—yet his sort of introspection
sily sustains itself. If you've bypassed
Monk before, dig him he:

gly spa

It's becom
tell overseas

п these days, which could
ht to stop
pounding and begin finger-snapping
The influence of our most indigenous
music certainly is app stening
on The
2-116).
tenor men Ronnie

tery

t the diplomats ош

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Scott and Tubby es (Hayes plays
vibes here, too); pianist Terry Sha
non, bassist Jef Clyne and drummer
Bill Eyden. The tunes include several
fashionably earthy originals and three
ds: Star Eyes, My Funny Valen-
tine and Day In, Day Out. Scott and
Hayes could impress at jazz cellar free-
foralls anywhere and the rhythm seco
tion constantly cooks, in keeping with
the current spurthe-soloist U.S. vogue.

Piping as pretty as she looks on the
liner, Julie London gives out with a
salable gimmick on Your Number, Please
(Liberty LST 7130), а tip-of-the-larynx
salute to twelve gentlemen songsters
and their bestknown vocal sprees.
There's Julie ra's Lcarnin*
the Blues, M Dennis’ Angel Eyes,
Gene Kellys Love Is Here to Stay, and
like that. You may argue with some of
the selections, but you cannot argue with
the fact that Jul npeccable
voice. The wand waving and charting
of André Previn add much, too, to this
rich haul of love songs. Lombert, Hendricks
& Ross (Columbia CS 8198), that estima-
ble group's п 1 effort for their new
record firm, contains some of the
hippest non-Basie L.H&R we've ever
heard, like the brilliant lyricising of Jon.
Hendricks on the 1941 Charlie Barnet
favorite, Charleston Alley; ditto for Jon
and Bobby Timmon's moving Moanin’,
ditto for Annie Ross cute-as-hell
Twisted. But the biggest back-pat of all
goes to the trio as a whole (thanks in
large part to Jon's farout lyric) on
Woody Herman's now classic Bijou. We
won't bother you with the couple of
poor tracks; the LP's a must, so get it.
Nomination for onc of the loveliest bal-
lad biscuits this year: Johnny Mathis"
Feithfully (Columbia CS $219), on which
the tenderest of tenors does up a dozen
songs to mearperfection. Included
among the good things are Tonight and.
Maria, both from We
Love, Where Are You?
hear tile tune Turntable this LP
‘round midnight, when all is soft and
antice the results.

still. We gu

and cornetist Nat — str
through five tunes in their latest out
The Cannonball Adderley Quintet in San Fran-
cisco (Riverside 12311). Recorded

Workshop last October, this
is the initial LP by the spirited
Cannonball formed after le
combo. The rhythm section — Bobby
Timmons, piano:
Louis Hay
for the up fr
leys, who pl

nt tooting of the Adder-
y lectly and fluidly through-
out The fivesome is most [risky in
Timmons’ gospelish This Here and i
the group's assault on Randy Weston's
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Those who have pigconholed Will
Hole in the Promising-Young-Folk
Singer category should be warmed by
the versatility he displays on The Exciting
Artistry of Will Holt (Elektra 181). Always
adept at ballad-and-blues belting, Holt
here tums to some non-folksy stuff, in
cluding Blues in the Night, I Love Paris
and When the World Was Young, in
addition to a batch of traditional saws
and one gay blade, Mack the Knife.
Hurray, say we, for the new-found Holt.

For most of his fifty-three years, com-
poser Alec Wilder has commuted be-
tween the worlds of pop and classical
music. When he hasn't been at work on
such tunes as While We're Young and
ГИ Be Around, he's been writing cham-
ber works, and you can hear the results
оп John Barrows and His French Horn (Golden
Crest 7002) and The New York Brass Quin-
tet Presents
(Golden Crest 4017). On the former,
Barrows, a stunning soloist, performs
(with an unidentified, but skilled, pian-
ist) two of Wilder's sonatas for horn
and piano and two parts of his Suite for
Horn and Piano. Wilder's writing is
strikingly melodic апа Barrow's playing
is nearflawless. On the brass quintet
disc, his appealing Suite for Brass Quin-
tet is enlivened by the inspired trumpet-
ing of Robert Nagel and John Glasel,
French hom player Frederick Schmitt,
trombonist John Swallow and tuba toot
ler Harvey Phillips. Packaged with the
Wilder suite on the quintet disc is Don
Hammond's Quintet for Brass, a work
whose jazz flavor emerg in the
hands of trombonist Swa slider
and glider in the grand manner.

Two Contemporary Composers

The playing of saxophonist Art Pep-
per has been the talk of the musicians’
world for years, but somehow he’s never
made it with the record buyers. Art Pepper
Plus Eleven: Modern Jazz Classics (Contem-
porary 3568) should enhance his PR
campaign. Backed by an elevenpiece
studio jazz group (arrangements by
Marty Paich), Pepper displays virtuosity
on tenor, alto and clarinet. The dozen
tunes are justifiably tagged classics, and
indlude Move, Groovin!’ High, Four
Brothers, Walkin’ Shoes, Anthropology
and "Round Midnight. Almost all the
solos are Pepper's and despite the brev-
ity of the tracks he wails brilliantly.

When Charlie Parker died five years
о, the sound of his alto saxophone
didn’t perish with him. Several devoted
disciples have perpetuated the Bird
image in their playing. Two of them —
Sonny Stiu and Lou Donaldson — mani-
fest the Bird Lives the

ne on current

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FREE! Get the 417 Little Black Book.” Wallet-size address book, plus wine guide; poler, dic
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LPs. On A Little Bit of Stitt (Roost 2235).
Sonny wields both alto and tenor in
gifted fashion on a batch of standards
His rhythm section is unidentified, but
there's no doubting Sonny's identity.
His playing is more fluent and more
movin his debt to Bird is
apparent, but he isn't locked in the past
Donaldson, on the other hand, seems
more umbilically linked to Parker on
LO Plus З — Lou Donoldson with the 3 Sounds
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Harris, piano: Andrew Simpkins, bass:
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BOOKS

Love end Like (Dial, 53.05) is Herbert
Gold's first collection of short stori
and, say we, its high time. With four
novels published and critically ас
daimed, plus a fifth completed,
wir something like forty stori
exposure in а broad spectrum of maga
zines, it's surprising Gold has mot as
sembled such a collection before this. It's
here at last, though, and thats all tha
counts. Fourteen yarns, written beiw
1951 and 1959, are offered: at least three
are already near-classics — The Heart of
the Artichoke and the title story (both
from Hudson Review) and What's Be
come of Your Creature? (from PLAYBOY).
Of this last, Gold says in a Postface, "I
was delighted to see the story in this
magazine, which has been hospitable to
a number of serious writers . . . it is ex
citing to have ones best work presented
to an Ameri ss audience." If one
wished to carp, it would be possible to
speak of Gold's perhaps unwise decision
10 eschew his many lighthearted confec
tions and collect only
sided stories, thus makin,
tion not really тергем
true profile of his artistic. perso
though Gold is seldom without 1
in only one story — the aforeme
Creature — has he succeeded in blend:
ing the light and dark colors of his
palette into a perfectly balanced maste
piece. Elsewhere, Gold has said he knows
the difference that
speaks my truth and something amusing
to fit between the advertisements" and
that statement one may detect а
tinge of apology for his amusing work
But— and this is not to deprecate the
stories that speak Gold's truth — artists

an m

his most sober
his first collec

tioned

between som.

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are notoriously the worst judges of their
and posterity plays puckish
serious plays of Gilbert and
the lofty operas and oratorios of Sulli-
c dead and unl: ted to
while Pinafore and The Mikado still
hold the stage; C. L. Dodgson's Euclid
and His Modern Rivals is to be found
on few y shelves now. but not so
his Alice in Wonderland: and so on.
But why carp at all? Gold's first collec
tion solid, a varied, an entei
ing, and probably an important book.

It may be tha ad's Angry Young
К wed and gentle
as a half pint of porter. Take John
Braine, erstwhile teeth-gnasher and acerb
chronicler of a social climber in Room
at the Top (Playboy After Hours.
January 1958). In his latest novel. From
the Hand of the Hunter (Houghton-Mifllin,
c exhibits lite save benig-
and low voltage. The ters

M

nd a host of ill-begorten memories of
his middl ist Among the haunt-
imaginary woman of
nd the coterie
1 monsters, called Vodi. she
skirts. These unholy
Dick's disquieted
tion have plagued him all his life
have been, he almost be
sources of his current ago:
Nurse Evelyn Mallaton. с
formed and exuding warmth. The pic-
ture changes, stowl Ihe WIL
returns on faltering steps, between
fevered flashbacks involving Nelly and
those accursed Vodi. As his recovery be-
comes more rapid — thanks to the Brit-
ish nurse and his love for her— he
gradually discovers the Real Dick
Corvey, destroys Nelly and her imps,
and 14 My.
only to be kicked in the tail by fate at
novel's close. Braine writes of sanitarium
life with sensitivity and compassion, but
with a minimum of the power, force and
stark. dra ne to expect. of
him. Still. in a season of pallid fi
this is worth a couple of hours’ m

ces up to the

ing time.

Being a cheap, ord
wtinet for what

John O'H
Ourselves to Know
) thumpingly

and his latest novel
(Random House
supports that contention. It is agoniz-
i detailed, dull as dust, haphazardly
nized and ordi 5 head lettuce.
who was boi
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"De Fonts коде morh for sore Nir.

houser (born in 1855). O'Hara skips
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reader every key moment in Millhou
ser’s case history. plus introductions to a
horripilating horde of townsfolk. The
two events in Millhouser's life that s
to set him apart from most dullards а
a trip abroad du youth with an
arty homosexual pal (Millhouser doesn't
spot the guy's deviation) and the uxori-
cide of hi: -year-old bride (he

i 10), prompted by her
s. OH,
the restless reader with p.
Millhouser as a boy. Millhouser in mid.
dle age, Millhouser as an old geezer.
Then we have Gerald Higgins (the
rator, who chronicles Millhousers life
for a coll nt) аз a young man
d G at forty-four.
(which
t short sto-
ries far more readable than his sprawling
novels) does not compensate for the
plodding mass of the book. The paí
notation of it all — lacking des
perately needed insights — makes the
reader wonder il ters a
whit. He survives, you should be warned.
to the age of eighty-nine. Your patience
will expire much quicker.

barrages

of v

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DINING-DRINKING

The fancy-booted cattlemen marching
on Chicago to unload their herds know
their beef — on hoof and hot platter. For
just that reason, they're counted heavily
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In the Texas-Tudor setting of the Inn,
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CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

PLAYBILL. =

DEAR PLAYBOY..

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS...
THE BARGAIN—noveletts. ~...
THE OSCAR SYNDROME—artlcle.
THE GIRL WITH THE BEAR RUG EYES—flctl
MEET ME AT THE CLUB—atilre......

EPITAPH FOR OBIE—Hei

EDWARD LOOMIS 28
—-DALTON TRUMBO 33
-REX LARDNER 38
ROBERT L GREEN 37
KEN PURDY 41
ARTHUR KNIGHT 42

THE FAR OUT FILMS—article.

——— 2

m SHEL SILVERSTEIN 48
gm
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humer
TAX VOBISCUM—erticl
TEST TUBE TOGGERY-—ettl

JULIAN WEINER 59
BLAKE RUTHERFORD 61

THE WILD BELLE OF THE PAMPAS—plctori — 64

A. C. SPECTORSKY 69
„VINCENT T. TAJIRI 71
——1. К. BROWN Ш 77
-PATRICK CHASE 104

THE FUN-EST TIME HE EVER HAD—humor..

LIGHTS! ACTION! CAMERAI—modern living.
© MISTRESS Hi$—seilre.
PLAYBOY'S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK—trav

HUGH M. HEFNER editor and publisher
А. C. SPECTORSKY associate publisher and advertising director

RAY RUSSELL executive editor ARTHUR PAUL art director

JACK J. KESSIE associate editor VINCENT T. TAJIRI picture editor

VICTOR LOWNES Ш promotion director JOHN MASTRO production manager

ELDON SELLERS special projects ROBERT 5. PREUSS circulation manager

KEN PURDY contributing editor; ROBERT L. GREEN fashion director; BLAKE RUTHER-
Foro fashion editor; THOMAS MARIO food & drink editor; PATRICK CHASE travel editor;
LEONARD FEATHER jazz editor; DON GOLD, EUGENE TROOBNICK assistant editors;
ARLENE BOURAS copy editor; ALBERI N. FODELL editorial assistant; REID AUSTIN
associale art director; JOSEPH H. PACZEK assistant art director; ELLEN HERMANSON
art assistant; BEV CHAMBERLAIN assistant picture editor; DON BRONSTEIN staff
photographer; FERN A. HEARTEL production assistant; ANSON MOUNT college bureau;
JANET PILGRIM reader service; WALTER J. HOWARTH subscription fulfillment manager.

GENERAL OFFICES, PLAYBOY BUILDING, хав E. онго атанг, CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS. MATURA POSTAGE MUST
ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITIKD IF THEY ARK TO BE RETURNED AND NO
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изн со. BE REPRINTED IN CLE OR IN PART WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE
ano any PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREO! THUR PAUL,

moro

Wild Belle

Lightsl Action! Р. 71

AOS8AV Id

vol. 7, no. 4 — april, 1960

къ

a strange marriage

was forged out of

hunger and l

a noveletie ву EDWARD LOOMIS

“I'LL TAKE YOU and your family
across the river, ma'am," Willy
said, "but it'll cost you."

At evening. 2 crowd of women
and children rallied uncertainly at
the east bank of the little river, the
Mulde, because it was an interna-
tional boundary. A mournful whis-
pering moved in the crowd; they
were watching the sentry march his
post on the pontoon bridge.

ll be glad to help, ma'am,”
Willy said. Heavy and powerful, he
was lezning forward, talking to a
German girl who was carrying a
baby on her hip. "When we're on
the other side, then you come with
me,” Willy went on. "Mit mir,
verstehen? That's the way we'll
work it.

The girl shook her head; I saw
that she was pretty. Behind her was
the family that depended on her,
two older women and two small
girls, watching timidly.

* she said, quite distinctly.
hat would be infamous" Then
she turned her head and looked
back to the east. Her throat was
exposed in a supple line, and the
effort of holding the baby caused
her breasts to rise, buoyantly; her
expression was hard. To the east,
in the fading light, was the high
smoke of advancing war. It smudged
the eastern heaven above the Rus-
sian soldiery as, in other centuries,
above the wild horsemen of the
steppes in their leather jackets.
The girl looked at that ominous
haze, and then pointed with her
free hand at the two little girls.
"And Inge?" she said. "And Jo-
hanna? My two little girls? Would
you leave them here for the Rus-
sians to eat?"

“T'I be glad to help," Willy said.
"But the order says no Germans
can cross this bridge here, and so

THE
BARGAIN .

PLAYBOY

Td be breaking the law if I let you
across, Ma'am, I'll break that law for
you, but I won't break it for nothing.
Listen, all 1 want is a little loving.
What's that to a pretty girl like you?"

“It is wartime,” the German girl said
coldly, “but I owe something to the
memory of my dear husband. I cannot
listen to you. What you say is— terziblel"
She turned back to her family, and the
two little girls hugged her legs.

"Don't go away mad,” Willy said
mildly. "You just think it over awhile,
now."

The girl was saying something to the
two women, who looked as if they might
be a mother and grandmother; then,
briefly, she stared over her shoulder at
Willy. Something bitter and cold flick-
ered out at Willy then, and I fancied I
saw the girl's nostrils widen.

Willy smiled, and then came over to
me and got out a cigar. “She'll come
around,” he said. "She's got to. There
ain't no way to swim those old ladies
and kids over this river. She'd swim it,
though, you bet." He clipped the end of
the cigar with his pocketknife, and then
lit the cigar with one of the three light-
ers he always carried. “There, now," he
said. "I want to let my evening meal set
a little.”

Willy was our Texan, twenty-two years
old at that time. He was well made and
strong, and if he had gone to college he
would very likely have played football —
at Baylor, say, or Texas A. and M. He
had a bluntfeatured, Western sort of
face, with ruddy cheekbones, and pale
blue eyes looking mildly out at the world
he meant to plunder. He came from
Dallas, but he was a country boy in his
origins; he had followed a plow, he had
picked cotton, he had gone out on many
a cold morning to fetch the cows for
milking.

He was married; he had taken a wife
when he was seventeen, and got two sons
and a daughter on her; and, so he told
us, got caught cheating just after the
birth of the daughter. He came to be,
as he put it, “unhappily married”; no
doubt he had seen the phrase in a news-
paper. "I love my wife," he used to say,
"but I'm unhappily married. She is such
a goddamned bitch.” She had even
dared, after his departure for the Army,
to take up with other men, and then
written Willy about her exploits. He
sometimes read her letters to me. Willy,
naturally enough, occupied himself in
that last spring of the war with revenge
on his wife. Any woman would do for
that, and so he had known all kinds,
young and old. He came to be an expert
on the German women.

“That one belongs to the quality,” he
said now. "I can tell it. She's got some
breeding to her, got some hot blood. But
she'll come round — she's a widow, you

heard that."

1 did not go to the bridge the next
night, for I was reluctant to see the girl's
surrender, which did indeed scem iney-
itable. As Willy said, “It’s not as if she
was alone. She's a Christian. She's got to
think of others!” She did not appear at
the bridge, however, and the following
morning, Willy became a little uneasy.

He talked to me; that was his way.
‘When he was in action, he kept silence,
but when he could not act, he became
gloomy, and often he came to me, for he
respected my education —my three se-
mesters at а small Ohio college. I had
words, and Willy found them soothing;
and of course we had some things to re-
member between us. During the fighting
we had been good comrades; Willy had
been a fine soldier, and had even saved
my life on one occasion, as, perhaps, I
had saved his on another. So we believed,
anyhow, and respected each other.

Willy talked anxiously about the Ger-
man girl, whose name was Elfrida, he
had learned. He thought he understood
her, but she was not answering to his ex-
pectations; he had missed her for a day,
and a day is a long time. He claimed
that she did not really dislike him. “In
fact, she likes me pretty well. I can tell.
A woman likes you or she doesn’t, and
this one likes me. She hates being in a
comer, though. She can’t stand that.
Goddamn her, she could have found a
boat, or a raft.”

It seemed possible that the girl might
have managed something, and so I went
down to the bridge that evening, hoping
Not to see her; but she was there, carry-
ing her baby, dressed in the normal
fashion of refugee women, in a heavy
knee-length coat, with a dark-brown skirt
showing beneath it. She came to meet us
with a smile on her face, and clearly she
had a policy. She was ready for us; and
Willy began smiling kindly, so that he
should appear to triumph gracefully. 1
stepped aside, and she smiled at me —a
minute, independent smile, as if it did
not really count, Then she composed
herself before Willy, and said, “I am
ready to bargain with you, but not for
myself. Do you understand? I have
money; we have decided to sacrifice it.
My mother and grandmother agree that
it is better we should be poor than that
I should yield to you . . . to your...
advances!”

I marveled at her, for she spoke with
only a slight accent, and that not Ger-
man. She sounded Fnglish, in fact, and
so she intimidated me a little. Willy,
too, was somewhat startled. “Money?” he
said. “Where would you get money?”

“We are not a poor family,” the girl
answered firmly. “Ah, so, but where
would I have learned to speak English
in a family of bankrupts? You must not
be naive!"

“Well, your money's no good anyway,”

Willy answered sullenly. “Your marks
are kaputt.”

“Excuse me. I am not offering marks.
I am offering American dollars — here,
you may see them.” And she held out a
leather wallet thickly engraved, which
Willy took because, clearly, it was the
only thing to do. For a moment, his big
fingers moved awkwardly on the wallet,
and then they came to themselves, and
bent the wallet in such a way as to open
the folding. For a moment Willy stared.
“It looks all right,” he said. “How much
is there?”

“Two hundred and fifty dollars, and
quite genuine. Feel free to inspect it, if
you wish."

"I don't have to inspect it," Willy said.

"Insist upon your rights! I am not a
cheat. I do not wish to be thought such
a one.”

“It's not that," Willy said, and his voice
was aggrieved. "Here, take your purse —
your wallet." He pushed it toward her,
and she quite coolly accepted it. "Put
your money away," Willy said roughly.
“Put it away! What's money alongside of
love? And love is what I'm after.”

“Don't be a fool,” the girl said.

"And don't get the wrong idea about
me,” Willy said. “You think I'd take
money from a woman? Listen. I made
my offer, and you can take it or leave it.”

“It’s outrageous,” the girl said. “You're
not an officer . . . how dare you refuse
my good American money!” For the first
time since I had known her, the girl
sounded as if tears might be possible for
her. “Oh,” she said. “You аге... un-
möglich.” She turned, and ran toward
her family. When she reached them, she
seemed to gather them up, and draw
them along with her. and in a moment
she had moved them out of sight in the
crowd of pilgrims at the riverbank.

After that, we did not see her for two
days; and then she turned up on the
American side of the bridge, in the cus-
tody of two MPs from regimental head-
quarters. The MPs, looking unhappy,
delivered Elfrida and her family to the
east side of the river, where ‘Elfrida
promptly led the way into the willows;
and then the MPs came back to the
American side, where we got the story
from the older onc, a staff sergeant. "Oh,
you know her — that girl with the baby?
Listen, take some advice, and don't get
to know her too well. ГЇЇ tell you — '*

"But what did she do?" Willy asked.

“Well, not much,” the sergeant said.
He paused; he was a man in his thirties,
with a mustache, and must have seen
something of life, “She just happened to
be crossing the river with her family in
one of our engineer's boats when the
colonel was out for his constitutional.
You know how he is; he goes for a walk
every morning at five o'clock. Well, he
asked her where she got that boat; it's

(continued on page 32)

“You mean you're from the vice squad too?”

PLAYBOY

32

BARGAIN

painted O.D. and has all sorts of serial
numbers on it. She said it was an estate
boat — belonged to a friend. What did
she do? Well, what about that?

“So the colonel took it up with her,
of course, figuring she'd bribed some-
body. When she began to get a little un-
comfortable, she tried to bribe him. She
had American money, two hundred and
fifty dollars of it — confiscated now, nat-
urally. What could he do? Now if she'd
offered that nice body, the colonel might
have...

"But let that go. The fact is, as we
were coming out here, I offered to see
what I could do, just in a personal sort
of way. I may have put my arm on her
shoulder, in fact, and she damn near cut.
my throat with her fingernails . . .”

Willy and I were left with a sense of
having been involved in something
larger than we had expected; and even
Willy began to be a little impressed.
"She's lost her money, anyway," he said.
“That'll make her come around ... a
little sooner . . .” But he did not sound
convinced; and I began to feel sure that
the girl would in fact never come around.
I respected her, and was already half in
love with her; and naturally I wanted to
believe well of a woman I loved. The
thought came to me that perhaps I
might do a favor for such a woman and
her family; I had only to speak to the
sentry. Later I might have to fight Willy,
for he had made the first claim on the
property which Elfrida was, but I was
willing to do that, I might even, so I
imagined, enjoy doing that.

I had an intention, but unfortunately
I did not execute it in time. Elfrida,
grown desperate, came down to the
bridge that very night and accepted
Willy's offer, to be accomplished on the
next night. I was there on the next
night; I had come to a decision, and was
ready to enter the lists, but I was just in
time to see Willy have his triumph.

As you know, a pontoon bridge floats
оп the water; it is low there, and buoy-
ant; in the gathering dark, our bridge
looked like a boat closely moored. Cor-
ruscations of current rippled down-
stream from it; breezes moved in the
willows along the bank, and occasionally
there was a harsh stirring in the high old
elms that grew along the east bank. I sat
down with my back to the trunk of one
of those elms, and wondered how it
would feel to make a generous offer to a
beautiful girl like Elfrida; I thought it
would feel fine. Elfrida, pleased, might
then reward me with love, and that
would be right: virtue deserved such an
answer.

Before me were the pilgrims, restless.
Russian patrols were on our side of the
Elbe; some had been sighted not five
miles from this spot; and the main body

(continued from page 30)

would close to the Mulde in two days, so
it was rumored. A desperate time for the
German women! The crowd of them
locked like a Doré illustration of a scene
from the Purgatório. They wore long
coats that looked like sculptured robes
in the evening light; they seemed to be
leaning to the west, while on the bridge,
the sentry, a boy in a helmet, quietly
marched his post, step-stop, the restless
feet! To be sure, I was a little sad; and
then Willy and Elfrida appeared out of
the crowd.

Elfrida was carrying her baby, and my
only thought was that I did not yet know
whether the baby was a boy or girl. Be-
hind Elfrida came the mother and the
grandmother, and each of these carried
a suitcase and led along a little girl. The
crowd fell away, and the family moved
alone with its benefactor.

It was clear that Willy knew what he
was about. His uniform was clean, he
was wearing a necktie, and he had bor-
rowed somebody's pistol and belt for the
occasion, so that he could have both
hands free, no doubt. He was wearing
his combat infantryman's badge; his hel-
met was tipped back, jauntily.

He paused at the bridge, but only to
wave the family on ahead of him. He
patted the little girls on the head, and
they ducked away, skittishly, in a normal
child's fashion. Willy came on, forcing
the family ahead of him. The sentry,
who was a good friend of ours from the
third platoon, marched his post on the
other track, and did not even look at
what was happening.

By this time, I had gotten to my feet,
and made my way to the middle of the
bridge, and there I stayed for the re-
mainder of the scene. I was feeling sad,
hopeless, a little deranged, but I was
alert. you may be sure!

Elfrida held the baby in the crook of
her right arm, much as the pioneer Ken-
tuckian held his Pennsylvania rifle. She
had her weight on both feet — her feet
were apart, like a boxer's. Willy spoke to
her, and paused; Elfrida did not move;
and then Willy gently put his hands on
the baby, and took the baby from her
arms. Those arms for a moment followed
the baby, the fingers opening and clos-
ing. Willy whispered something to the
invisible face of the baby, of which a
faint crooning was audible to me, and
then gave the baby to the grandmother.
“Thank you, Ma'am," he said. "You're
real obliging.”

Then briskly he took Elfrida’s arm,
and started walking her toward the deep
grass that grew along the riverbank to
the south of town.

He was moving successfully; and then
Elfrida pulled away, and said sharply,
“Nol I won't gol”

She stood apart from him, angry,

ready to fight. Her head was swaying,
and her arms moved catlike; her right
hand formed a claw, suddenly, and with
it she reached out, hooking. Willy did
not move, and Elfrida's nails raked his
face. She screamed, lightly. Still he did
not move.

“АП right,” he “That's in the
bargain too, just this once. What do you
think it got you?”

She stood quite close to him, with her
hands on her hips. Her head was back;
her chin out; her bosom was heaving —
ah, she composed! She knew she was cre-
ating an effect!

“You are a beast, to hold a lady to
such a bargain,” she said.

“No, I ain't," Willy s;
gain's a bargain.

“A beast. A wicked, sinful — illiterate,
tool”

“Say what you like. You can't hurt me.
Honey, can't you see I'm just full of love
for you?”

"Oh!" She shuddered, and stepped
away.

Willy shook his head, his cheek show-
ing marks now, curving lines; and then
looked down; but his big body was
poised, I noticed, ready to go. "Well, I
love you, honey. Don't make a fuss, now.”

“It’s impossible," she said. "You are
too crude. Now, please, if you will ex-

"But a bar-

Then Willy caught her left arm; he
scemed to reach across an enormous
space; her upper body moved jerkily,
like a puppets staggering walk. "Come
on," he said, and started off down the
riverbank, where were willows, high
grass the dark that would make them
sweat. She was with him, all her protests
vain; her head went down, but 1 noticed
that she managed once, quickly, to look
at Willy, look him up and down, as not
every girl would be able to do in a situ-
ation like that. She appraised him, I
think, and even nodded, as their figures
grew dim, and became one large figure
instead of two small ones — a giant hud-
dle, merging with the night.

I remembered the bottle of brandy I
was carrying — I had thought to comfort
Elfrida with it. Now I got it out, and
drank. I was feeling like a rejected lover;
I was astonished at Willy's brilliant ac-
tion, and the brandy did not make me
brave. I sank into myself, wanting time
to pass, but time would scarcely move. I
felt abandoned, like something dropped
by a careless proprietor — a feeling of
youth, surely — but of course in a little
while I got used to it, and began to look
around me,

In the foreground was Elfrida's fam-
ily. I watched them for a while, that
little cluster of souls, and then went
over to them. The grandmother seemed
almost asleep; her eyes were closed: she
held the baby, and with it was quiet as

(continued on page 40)

hollywood's annual

article By DALTON TRUMBO

popularity contest goads and dominates the film industry

IN THE OLD DAYS IT was FUN. The annual revels of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences were private
affairs, generally held in the Ambassador ballroom, and there was no television to inhibit gaiety. Each studio picked
up the tab for all its nominees, the food was good, the liquor abundant, and the people fun — and they even joked
among themselves without the aid of a teleprompter.

I have reason to remember one occasion, on which Donald Ogden Stewart was nominated for his screenplay of
The Philadelphia Story, and 1 for mine of Kitty Foyle. Mr. Stewart, who is a wise and kindly man, approached me
before the announcements and suggested the following charade: if I won the Oscar, Stewart would rise from his
seat at the MGM table, cross to mine in RKO territory, and tell me frankly he thought he'd been robbed. Then,
went the plot, I would answer him in scalding words, and the argument would continue on a rising note till man-
agement intervened. If Stewart won, I agreed to reciprocate. (continued on page 36) зз

THE GIRL WITH THE BEAR RUG EYES

as the old adage says: them as has, gits

“CALL FoR vou on two, Mr. Forrest. Mr.
Hank Bullett. You have a luncheon
engagement with him at one at the
Golden Spoon, sir.”

“Thanks, Marilyn . . . Would you
please ask one of the girls to pick up the
report in my box and pass it on to Mr.
Wainwright? . . . Put Mr. Bullett on,

"Hello, Hank?"

"Hi, Phil. That operator of yours got
a mighty cuddly voice, you know?"

"I never noticed . . . Listen, Hank,
don't we have a lunch date? I want to
drop something off with you.”

“Yeah, we had one. But listen, old
buddy. I got to beg off. I'm hung up."

“Well, OK. I know how busy you
educational-TV writers are. How’s the
show coming?”

“Pretty messy. We're doing mostly
schlong stuf now and very little cere-
bral.”

“What the hell is schlong?”

“The messy stuff that you have to
wear a raincoat. Pies, flour, soapy water,
dripping chocolate. Ratings go up in
proportion to how damaged the con-
testants get. With this new stunt I
thought up, we ought to field a twenty-
seven. It's a series of races between two
husband-wife teams. There's these differ-
ent-type beds, you know? Cot, sofa,
hammock, Louis the Fourteenth with a
canopy yet. Which wife can blow up
the balloon first and bust it and then the
husbands sprint and dive into the beds.
Starts out quiet, but they get progres-
sively gooier. Taffy, mud, glue. Screams.”

"Who's in shape to do all the diving,
for God's sake? A gymnast couldn't do
it.”

“You'd be surprised at the country's

fiction
By REX LARDNER

athletes when there's coupons for ice-
boxes and trips to Hawaii on the line.
And schlong gets “em in the tent, Phil.
We're selling plenty skin lotion.”

“Where are you now, Hank?"

"In the sack, composing witty lines
for B girls. How's this? ‘I like older
men bec —'"

“What the hell are you doing in the
sack at noon? Why aren't you at the
office, stirring hot pitch for the husbands
of America to fall into?”

“Because I'm truly beat, man. Kerou-
acked. Like whooo! That’s how come I
can’t make lunch.”

“Affair of the heart?”

“Mostly the back. We got this new
dark-haired production assistant that
just came on the show day before yes-
terday. One of these girls that carries a
clipboard like it was Brando’s shirt. And
the minute our eyes clashed yesterday,
I knew it was a thing. Clickarootiel So
after the talk-down session yesterday
afternoon I asked her out for a drink.
Guess what she ordered! Some kind of
Chablis, whatever the hell that is. 1
figured, Oh boy, a non-alcoholic, she’s
a basket-hanger, you ain't never going
to get this chick boiled, Hank. So we're
unlaxing, talking TV and Akiyoshi and
Cannonball Adderley — she was to the
Newport thing, turns ош — and sex and
Zen —"

"And sex."

"And sex, and then all of a sudden
she passes me on the curve. She's making
these statements, way out. I mean this
girl sounds real far out, real far out. So
Im heavy-footing, I'm talking bold and
she's keeping up— very frank stuff,
Раш —”

“Ph

“Phil. Jesus, why did I make that

Ф
0

slip? What's with me these days?”

“Ask your shrinker.”

“Listen. Don't think I don't need it.
I got the evidence. Anyway, the reason
I'm not making it today is account of
that chick. I'm supposed to show for the
talk-down at five, but I don't know how
the hell I'll make it. I'm a wreck. Listen,
do I sound funny

“Rosen and Jacoby are funnier.”

“I mean my speech. Because I got this
swollen lip on one side makes me look
like Cheetah. I put myself on a liquid-
type diet.”

“Your labials are a bit sluggish. But,
like the announcers say, it's the vowels
that express your personality.”

"And I still got good vowel move-
ment, thank God. Hey! Throw me a
cover line, quick!"

“ "Thank you, mother.’ ‘I know there
are people out there because I can hear
you breathing’ ‘I'll fire the s.o.b. that
wrote that one.

“You should do our warm-ups. Your
cover lines need cover lines.”

“So what happened?”

“Td tell you, Phil, but I know that
cuddly operator of yours is listening in
... Hi, peaches .. . OK (Did I hear a
click?) . . . Anyway, we're relating, like
the social workers say, and she’s sober
but talking mucho grande and I say all
of a sudden, ‘Do you dig Mitch? Be-
cause I got a great waxing of an oldie,
The Yellow Rose of Texas, that should
glom many spins turntable-wise. ”

"Do you honest to God talk like that
to production assistants?”

"It's lovetalk, man. Don't knock it.
Shows them you think you're with it.”

“What's she look like?”

“Well, she's healthy enough upstairs,

(continued on page 101)

ROSOFSKY

PLAYBOY

OSCAR (continued from page 33)

He won. I rose and approached his
table. In those days Leo the Lion really
roared, and his keepers were Schenck,
Mayer, Mannix and Thau. Together
with a full covey of Metro stars, they
were huddled over Mr. Stewart, fon-
dling him and his Oscar and calculating
profits. A chill silence fell over the com-
pany as I addressed my complaint to
the victor. Apparently Mr. Stewart
didn't understand. He begged my par-
don, obliging me to repeat in even
stronger terms my opinion the best man
hadn't won. A look of almost insane
sympathy settled over his face. He rose,
in the midst of terrible stillness, draped
a consoling arm over my shoulder — and
gently agreed. He was so moved by my
disappointment he almost cried, and I
put on a good performance of actually
doing it.

Nothing like that could happen now.
There's no more liquor, no tables, no
Donald Ogden Stewart (he lives in Lon-
don), and no such gall. But there's a
good reason for it. The instant Academy
presentations became public events
comparable in audience rating with a
Presidential inauguration, they became
pompous. Not that a film academy
hasn't the same right to pomposity as
the Academy of Arts and Sciences (Bos-
ton) or the Academy of Arts and Letters
(New York) — and perhaps a better right
than the Academy of Allergy (Milwau-
kee). It isn't a matter of rights, it's a
question of innocence and spontaneity;
and they, so immensely more impor-
tant than public dignity, are forever lost.

For it was innocence and spontaneity,
blended with cheerful extroversion and
open competition, that made the film
community centered in Hollywood not
only one of the most amusing and culti-
vated (the word is quite intentional) in
the world, but also one of the most in-
fluential. For twenty-five years the Amer-
ican cinema sought out, and formed a
loosely cchesive community of, the most
attractive personalities and talents that
Europe could offer. It was a cosmopoli-
tan society that worked hard, played
hard, and raised the American film to
frst competitive position practically
everywhere in the world.

But now senescence has set in, Many
of the most talented actors, writers and
directors have fled abroad to avoid
either taxes, the blacklist, or the fright-
ful gerontic problem of the community,
and sometimes all three. Five of the
seven major studios have fallen by de-
fault into the hands of aging account-
ants, Their rambling public remarks,
always, unluckily, quoted in the press,
are so incoherent as to completely panic
the stockholders of any other business.

Leading men of fifty-five and even sixty
fornicate — at least on the screen — with
lasses of scarcely twenty-two. Grand-
mothers stride across Vistavision in
fierce pursuit of happiness, usually sex-
ual. The belles dames of the press corps
are almost Biblical in their longevity.
Dignity, as a result, is everywhere. Its
almost all the town has left.

The Academy was founded in 1927
by, among others, Richard Barthelmess,
Harold Lloyd, Mary Pickford, Milton
Sills, Irving Thalberg, Louis B. Mayer, a
pair of Warner brothers, and Douglas
Fairbanks, Sr., who served as its first
president, Among its stated purposes
was that of “encouraging the arts and
sciences of the profession by . . . awards
of merit for distinctive achievement.”

The militant statuette, later christ-
ened Oscar, was designed by a founding
member, the late Cedric Gibbons. “To
the public,” declares a recent Academy
brochure, "an Oscar is a badge of dis-
tinction. To its recipient, the film
maker, an Oscar means even more. It is
his most valued possession because it
represents what every creative mind
prizes highest: the respect and admira-
tion of his peers."

However inflated the winner's evalu-
ation may be, the Academy, in section
fourteen of Rules for the Use of Acad-
emy Auard Symbols, takes a more
realistic view of Oscar's worth when it
contracts that the winner "shall not sell
or otherwise dispose of it nor permit it
to be sold or disposed of by operation
of law without first offering to sell it to
the Academy for the sum of $10; and
this provision shall apply to the heirs
and assigns of Academy Award winners
who may acquire a statuette by gift or
bequest.”

Thus hedged about with more condi-
tions and restrictions than the Nobel,
Pulitzer and Goncourt prizes lumped
together, the man who owns an Oscar
is bound to feel that the responsibility
of the thing outweighs its pleasure. He's
stuck with a public trust that cost the
Academy approximately $100 on the
day of presentation, which can only go
down in value, and which he can't turn
loose of until it hits bottom, and he
along with it. In the old days before
dignity hit town, the minute you laid
hands on an Oscar it was yours. You
could hock it, shoot craps for it, or boil
it down to pot metal. 'The town's best
procures, who was a flesh peddler in
the community long before MCA came
onto the scene; once had three of them
in forfeit on her boudoir mantel.

The first Academy Awards were
handed out in 1928. In exactly four min-
utes, thirty-two seconds. They were given,

however, for performances viewed in
the Los Angeles area during the pre-
ceding year, which was, of course, 1927.
The Best Film of that year, as voted by
Academy members, was Wings, although
it did not contain the best acting (Emil
Jannings for The Way of all Flesh and
Janet Gaynor for Severith Heaven), nor
the best direction (Lewis Milestone for
Two Arabian Knights and Frank Bor-
zage for Seventh Heaven), nor even the
best writing (Ben Hecht for Underworld
and Benjamin Glazer for Seventh
Heaven).

To the Academy mind, it is possible —
to a mind-boggling degree—for the
whole of a film to be so much greater
than the sum of its parts that, in 1936,
although Victor McLaglen copped an
acting Award for The Informer, John
Ford received a directing Award for The
Informer, and Dudley Nichols walked
off with the writing Award for The In-
former, the Award for Best Film went
not to The Informer but to Mutiny on
the Bounty. The following year, 1937,
Paul Muni was named Best Actor for his
contribution to The Story of Louis
Pasteur and the writing team of Sheri-
dan Gibney and Pierre Collings were
Oscared for their fine work in creating
the script of the same film; Best Film
of the Year, however, was a musical
“spectacular” called The Great Ziegfeld.
There is the charitable notion that the
Award donors had some idea of spread-
ing the wealth, or the uncharitable ex-
planation that Hollywood is the last
place on earth from which to expect
consistency. However, if consistency is a
yirtue — and the evidence is far from in
on that score — it shone most brightly in
1947. The Best Years of Our Lives
won Awards for writing (Robert E.
Sherwood), direction (William Wyler),
the Best Actor (Fredric March), the Best
Supporting Actor (Harold Russell), the
Best Editing (Daniel Mandell), the Best
Dramatic Music Score (Hugo Fried-
hofer), and was, oddly enough, adjudged
the Best Film. As this is written, the
1960 score is not in, but this in no way
invalidates or alters the conclusions to
be drawn from the form sheets thus far.

It has always been an open question
whether the Awards, in the Actors’ divi-
sion, for example, represent actual
merit, or whether other factors come in-
to play. The argument for merit is sub-
stantially supported on the roster of
Award-winners by the names of such
gifted artists as Walter Huston, Charles
Laughton, Katherine Hepburn, Helen
Hayes, Paul Muni, Bette Davis, Alec
Guinness, Spencer Tracy, Vivien Leigh,
Laurence Olivier, Marlon Brando,
James Cagney, Fredric March and In-
grid Bergman.

(continued on page 78)

BEACH CLUB: the member at left
wears а white cottan pullaver shirt
with an alive and white striped set-
in, by Himalaya, $4, black-olive
walking sharts, by Manhattan,
$7.95, and a rallable, crushable
catton muted striped hat, by Flip-It,
$3.95. The chap at center sparts a
cotton beach blazer with piping,
patch pockets, shawl collar, by Cota-
lina, $8.95, and cottan gabardine
trausers, by George W. Heller,
$22.50. At right, the guy is garbed
in a while Orlon cable-stitch sweat-
er with an alive and gald V-neck, by
Himalaya, $15, and loden Tapflax
deck pants, by Brentwoad, $7.95.

MEET ME AT THE CLUB

right raiment for three sporting propositions

THAT NIFTY SPORTS CAR Tunning from the city on a sultry spring Saturday morn with the
two-suiter in the trunk and the carefree smile on the driver's face is probably purring
toward a private club. Whether it be a green-gowned country club, a harborside yacht
club, or a surfside beach club, the club scene is bulking bigger than ever with the urban
executive seeking a weekend of gentlemanly sport, relaxation and boon companionship
away from the city's crowd and crush.

And contemplating a casual, comfortable time, he'll be taking casual, comfortable togs.
Colors will be brighter, patterns a bit more striking, and styles more imaginative and
personalized than those of his daily duds. There'll be mild trends and taboos at every
club but, on the whole, you'll find a much wider and freer expression of fashion taste

37

38

in and around the clubhouse than anywhere cityside.

For the participating sportsman, new clothing ideas will be accepted
only if they really pan out on the playing fields. The country-club
golfer, for example, will shun all save waist-length sweaters and
windbreakers. He won't want to burden his backswing with the extra
weight of a longer-hanging garment, and he'll want nothing to impede
his wrist or body movements. He may select classical slacks — or
Bermuda shorts and high hose. Or he may try golf knickers. Long
worn by top linksters, knickers (also dubbed plus fours) will be
fairway favorites with many Sunday (concluded on page 101)

YACHT CLUB: the captain at left sparts a navy blue cashmere
blazer, by Bernhard Altmann, $95, with gray мао! flannel
trausers, by Botany, $15.95, a medium spread coller Excello,
broadcloth shirt, $5.50, Handcraft silk shantung ascot, $5,
and Cavanagh yachting cap, $15. His Corinthean crew wear
(center) a terry-lined yellow waterproof hooded slicker, by
Mighty Mac, $25, three-quarter-length baat-neck knit shirt,
$6, and white duck deck pants with rope belt, $7, both by
Jantzen, and (right) a catton knit boat-ı pullover, $3.95,
end gabordine deck ponts, $5.95, both by Catalina.

COUNTRY CLUB: the chop with the sunglasses is comfortable,
cool and correctly attired in an lvy jacket of Indian Madras
with antiqued buttons, by Mavest, $35, and blue-black slacks
cf blended Acrilan, rayan and acetate, by Hoggor, $9.95.
His navy silk tie, by Mott Nickels, $2.50, complements his blue
cotton buttondown oxford shirt, by Arrow, $5. His galfing

acquaintance is tagged In a three-button pullover chorcool
knit shirt af cotton and Dacron, by Himalaya, $5, and narrow
wool plus fours in с black and white haund's-tooth check with
Velcro fastening leg battams, by Peter Jay, $22.95. His black
ribbed nylon stretch hose ore by Gilbert, $1.50, ond his red
and block bonded natural straw hot is by Hopkins, $6.50.

39

PLAYBOY.

BARGAIN (continued from page 32)

statuary in a garden. One of the litde
girls leaned against her; this child was
perhaps five years old, plump and dark.
with brown eyes that looked vaguely
toward me, and then quickly away. The
mother stared brightly at me through
spectacles, and fluttered her eyelids.
Clearly she was frightened, but she was
trying not to look so, for fright might
seem an insult to the American, who was
a lord of life and death there at the
bank of the international river. The
mother's face was blurred — she looked
like anyone's mother. Her hand rhyth-
mically gripped and relaxed on the
hand of the smaller girl, and this child
was drunk with sleepiness. In a little
while she would have to be put down to
rest on the damp ground, among the
cold grasses and flowers.

The women had no significant expres-
sion to use on this occasion of their fam-
ilys dishonor. Weary and bored, they
were waiting for the next thing to hap-
pen; indeed, the older women of any
nation are likely to know what it is to
wait outside the bedchambers of the
young. It was nothing to these women
that their daughter's bedchamber would
be a hollow space under a willow tree.

Soon these veteran ladies would be
able to resume their journey, and if dis-
honor went with them, they would surely
not die of it. Very likely dishonor would
prove merely excess baggage on such a
journey. At that very moment they
might be thinking how fortunate they
were to have a handsome daughter who
could please the fierce young men at the
bridge. The Russians .. . ah, the Rus-
sians were very close, the drunken peas-
ants bent on rape and plunder .. .

I wandered off, thinking not to return
until everything was over, and I got a
little drunk, but when I came back
much later, I discovered Elfrida's family
in the place where I had left them. A
blanket had been produced from some-
where, and the two litle girls were asleep
on it, under a tree. They lay on their
backs, and the toes of their shoes pro-
truded upward.

The sentry was quietly marching his
post, and on the other side of the river
the pilgrims were settling down for the
night. A murmur of voices crossed the
river from their rude beds, but there was
no activity; even their fear had grown
inert. Looming over them was a source-
less glow in the eastern sky—a pale red
that would not have been out of place
in a sunrise. I looked at my watch, a
large Swiss pocket watch, loot from a
prisoner. It was twelve-thirty. The Rus-
sians were burning villages and hay-
stacks, probably on our side of the Elbe;
the peasant boys were capering jubi-
lantly in the frelight, just as I would
caper there if I belonged to that army.

I sat down in shadows by the bridge
abutment, where I could be dark. I
had a drink — it tasted strong, like the
air, on that night of the blossoming
Saxon plain. I thought it odd that the
brandy should taste good to me after so
much of it, but that was the way of
things in that season; even life had a
pleasant taste, as it came thronging the
roads from the fiery east. I was at that
stage of drunkenness where vision is
penetrating — the eye can burn its way
in. Or so I felt. I was ready to watch
Willy and Elfrida, and quite naturally
I was hoping for discord. I was angry
at myself, and discord could be my medi-
cine; and discord there was.

"They came back suddenly, the lovers.
"They appeared on the road from town,
and I surmised that Willy had taken El-
frida to a house there. He could have
ordered the Germans out; that was a
thing we did not mind doing. I gri-
maccd; Willy could enjoy her more im-
moderately in a house, in a bed...
They were not together any more, how-
ever, that was plain. Elfrida manifested
a distance between them; she was
haughty, in the starlight. With great
dignity, she walked toward her family,
while Willy, tired perhaps, came slouch-
ing along behind her, in his country
way.

When she was beside her mother and
grandmother, who were clumsily getting
to their feet, she turned to face Willy,
and said, "Have the decency to keep
your distance from my mother."

Willy stopped, obediently. “Whatever
you say, honey," he answered,

Elfrida spoke furiously to her family;
she took up the baby, and restored it
to the crook of her arm. The mother
and grandmother bent to the children,
and started waking them. Restlessly the
children held to sleep, burying their
faces against the summons.

“Peasant” Elfrida said then, with
her head down. “What do you know
about love?” She took a menacing step
toward Willy, as if she might again
scratch him, and said, “Loye is — beyond
your comprehension!”

“Yes'm,” Willy said. “But ГЇЇ show
you ye

"Ah! But I hate you! And I will make
you pay! Your filthy bargain . . . I'll
make you payl” she screamed, and then
bent down to one of the children, speak-
ing rapid German, torrents of command,
exhortation, rage. The family rose
around her, and suddenly took her in;
and, as it began moving, it seemed clear
that she was safely away from Willy,
who was still standing at rest, slouch-
ing. He had a cigar going, and its glow
faintly lighted up his blunt features,
returning them to my comprehension.
He was just Willy, after all, my old

friend, an honest soldier. I concluded
that I ought to rise and go to him, and
so I did, and offered him a drink from
my bottle, which he was willing to take.

He was glad to see me, but of course

“his thoughts were with Elfrida. “I found

"em a place for the night,” he said. "I
showed her where it is, and I reckon
they'll go there. It's right nice.”

"After all that?" I said. fter what
she said? She's on her way to Cologne
right nowl"

“That talk?” he said mildly. “That
don’t matter much —that's just some-
thing women do. That's the way they
are.”

“But she hates you, Willy!”

"She don't hate me. Listen, she's a
passionate woman; I didn't rape her.
Old Willy Fletcher ain't never raped a
woman yet." He looked at her, dimly,
through the reddish light of the cigar,
and said, "Come to think of it, she
loves me. She scratched me again, but
she scratched my back, and you know
what that means.”

‘There was nothing for me to say. In
a moment, Willy turned away from the
river, and said, “I’m tired. Let's go
home." And then we went away; I fin-
ished my bottle while I lay on my back
in bed, in the big country house where
cur company was quartered, and the
next morning I woke with a headache
which I was able to welcome.

I felt I had it coming; I desired
punishment, and in due course it came.
After breakfast, Willy went off to El-
frida, “to see about my woman,” as he
put it. We had scarcely any duties, and
we were free to go where we liked dur-
ing the day, so long as we did not run
away. I chose to stay in the big house,
gloomily hoping that Willy would have
a disaster; but when he did not return
by noon, I went into the town looking
for him.

The town was very small, and it had
not been fought over; it was intact, and
full of people hiding. The doors of the
houses were always kept shut against
wandering soldiers, even during the day,
and the only signs of life were the chil-
dren who occasionally got outside of the
houses to make a racket in the street.
I feared I had an impossible task, for
if the family was holding itself within
doors, 1 could never find it. 1 felt de-
feated, in a preliminary way, and so I
was striding along rather. angrily; and
then I came across Elfrida's two daugh-
ters, in a minute front yard, playing
in a sandbox. They looked up at me,
expectantly and fearfully, like puppies.
I slowed my walk; their cyes followed
me, the heads perplexedly turning. The
girls had brown eyes perfectly dispas-
sionate; their expressions were such that
I knew they had stopped having a good
time because I had come near them.

(continued on page 70)

fiction By KEN PURDY

at couldn't have happened to a nicer guy

X HADN'T HEARD OF OBIE PRUST'S DEATH until I read the Times this morning.
I was surprised at the length of his obituary. There was nearly three quarters
of a column of it. I hadn't realized that Obie had been so prominent a
citizen. Of course he had been important on radio for years, and his tele-
vision show was a fixture on the American scene when he died. I used to
watch it now and again, not because I cared so much for Obie, but to marvel
at the grace and speed with which so fat a man could move.

The Times was circumspect, but a couple of the other papers character-
ized Obie as “the greatest chef in America" and “this country’s foremost
authority on fine food.” I suspect that's overdoing it. I don’t question Obie's
status; he was a fine cook and a notable gourmet and I imagine he did as
much to try to wean Americans away from devotion to hamburgersand-
French-fries as anyone, but still, I wouldn't call him the greatest chef in
America. What about Louis Havcly? If it comes to that, what about Gustav
Wackenhut?

Yes, I have dined at Obie's table, not as often as I was invited, perhaps,
but often enough. The last time was only a few months ago, and I remember
it very well. We had a páté of wild boar with an ice-cold beach-plum sauce,
an authentic consommé double, and a dish of chicken which Obie called
poulet à.la mode de Pouilly, although we were given to understand that it
was original with him: chicken cooked in champagne and served in a sauce
velouté that had the faintest suggestion of cinnamon about it. I can't say I
cared for it. I think chicken should taste of chicken, and of nothing but
chicken. I prefer Chinese cookery. The Chinese understand the preparation
of fowl.

However, Obie's other guests were pleased. There were eight at table. I
will admit to being happy with the dessert. I think Obie Prust's fame as a
creator of desserts was deserved; I suspect his flair in that direction was one
of the reasons for the immense popularity of his television program in a
country devoted to the conspicuous consumption of sugar. Every time I saw
а fat woman on the street I used to mark her as one of Obic’s devotees. At
any rate, he gave us poached Bartlett pears on a bed of vanilla ice cream,
with eau de vie de poire poured over, and a touch of unsweetened whipped
cream, It was very good indeed.

Did you ever watch the man on television? Then you may recall that at
the end of each program he disclosed the cost per plate of the specimen meal
he had prepared, Over coffee that night a featherheaded young lady asked
Obie what the poulet à la mode de Pouilly had cost. I could see that Obie
was glad she had brought the matter up, and I suspected that if she had not,
he would have done so himself, His little blue (continued on page 99)

EPITAPH FOR

JURGENS

OBIE

left to rig! scene from Oramunde, Emil Etting's
film of the Thirties; Moye Deren in Meshes in tho
Afternoon; o frame from Sidney Peterson's The Cage.

TH E article By ARTHUR KNIGHT

FAR
ШТ. beautiful, sometimes
FILMS stocking, always

non-conformist, experimental
movies are the beat
generation on celluloid

IN A LITTLE THEATRE just north of Greenwich
Village, a group calling itself the Gryphons re-
cently put on a series of showings of member-
made avant-garde movies. One, Geography of the
Body, explored the human form in such extreme
close-ups as to make skin textures look like
craters on the moon, a nipple like an extinct
volcano. In another, Wedlock, a (presumably)
married couple made love — only the whole thing
was shown on negative film. In still another,
after some scenes of his very pregnant wife in a
bathtub, the young film maker went on to show
in detail, intercut with shots of the bath water,
the birth of his own child.

The audiences that assembled for these per-
formances received the pictures, and others on
the same program, with mixed emotions. Pre-
dominantly, it was a Village crowd, with black
sweaters, ponytail hairdos, blue denims and
thonged sandals very much in evidence. They had
come on the promise of an evening of offbeat
film art, and many seemed to like what they saw.
Others, attracted for the same reason, booed and
hissed and whistled their indignation. They
found the films pretentious, amateurish, an ar-
rogant assumption of the cloak of art to conceal

42 both technical and intellectual poverty. "Man,

Above: a still from Kenneth Anger's Inaugur-
ation af the Pleasure Dome. Below: a now clas-
sic scene from Dali's The Andalusion Dog.

Abave: Jean Epstein's 1928 film, The Fall of
the House of Usher. Below: a touch of Freudian
symbalism from L'Age d'Or by Dali and Bunuel.

they were the filmic equivalent of Ike's speeches,” one irate attendee reported.

The Gryphons — Willard Maas, his wife Marie Menken, Stan Brakhage and
Ben Moore — are typical of a new kind of film maker on America's movie scene
today. They call themselves the experimenters, the film poets. In sharp and con-
scious reaction to the conventions of Hollywood (or commercial film studios any-
where in the world, for that matter), they make pictures that are plotless, obscure
in meaning, often shocking in content. In both their attitudes and their choice of
themes, they strikingly resemble and a few actually are — the writers and poets
of the Beat Generation. They are non-conformist, "far out" And they like it
that way.

Unlike their literary confréres, however, their actual impact on our society has
been relatively slight. Their films are more often talked about than seen, for not
even the artiest art theatre would dream of booking one. Managers know that
either the cops would be down within the hour, or the lobby would be crowded
with customers asking for their money back—or both. Just about the only place
to catch an art movie is at one of the 450 film societies currently dotted about the
country. But unless you live in one of the larger metropolitan centers, where the
groups can afford to advertise for new members, your chance of even finding a
society is fairly slim. You have to be "in" to get in. Occasionally an art museum or
a university will organize a showing for its members. And occasionally, as with
the Gryphon screenings, the film makers themselves will put the show on. However
the screening comes about, though, you have to move quickly. There are no such
things as continuous performances or six-week engagements in this field.

And what do they look like, these far out films? What causes the excitement in
some hearts, the consternation in others? Most of ther, quite simply, are concerned
with self-revelation, with the externalization of the torments, anguish, angers and
frustrations of their makers. Like the literary beatniks, they make little effort to
comment on the social scene. They may resent its conventions, but they would
sooner flout them than fight them. Sex, on the other hand, is of primary impor-
tance. Fornication, barred from the commercial screen, is cither shown or graphically
suggested in many of these films. Perversion is featured in many more — to such
an extent that Jonas Mekas, the editor of the magazine Film Culture, was moved
to inveigh against what he termed “the conspiracy of homosexuality” in the experi-
mental field. It is, he wrote, "one of the most persistent and shocking characteristics
of American film poetry today.”

Perhaps the most flagrant film of this stripe ever produced is Kenneth Anger's
Fireworks, a fifteen-minute study of homosexuality and sado-masochism. In it, as
Anger states in his spoken introduction, "Inflammable desires, dampened by day
under the cold water of consciousness, are ignited at night by the libertarian matches
of sleep.” More plainly, it is the dream-wish of a pervert, filled with his ambivalent
fear of and desire for the male. From the first shot of a monster erection under the
sheets to its final, horrifying sequence in which a gang of sailors mercilessly beats
and tortures the hero (with a strong suggestion of castration as well), the images
have a compulsive, nightmare quality. A brawny sailor exhibits his muscles at a
bar, then attacks the boy. Another sailor lashes him with chains. Still others break
his nostrils, slash him with broken glass, pour a trickle of suspiciously symbolic
cream over his bloodied face. At the climax, a single sailor, tall against a black
background, stands for a moment fiddling with his fly. It falls open, and what
seems to be a huge phallus appears. The sailor holds a lighted match to its tip,
and, as the thing shoots off sparks and flame, we see it is only a Roman candle. The
final shot reveals that “it was all a dream” — but the specific nature of the dream
is underscored by a view of the sailor lying prone, inert on the hero's cot.

It would be inaccurate, albeit tempting, to dismiss Fireworks as a pornographic
film, an indecency thrown together for a fairies’ smoker. Pornographic movies, no
matter how well they arc done, gratify a single urge — simple voyeurism. They
show explicitly and in detail whatever refinement of copulation their creator has
predetermined. Anger's film — and, for that matter, the films of most of the experi-
mentalists — has none of this. There is an extensive use of symbol (an African
fertility god, a ring deep in the young man’s entrails); but far more is suggested
than actually shown (the Roman candle, for cxample, with its suggestion of an
ejaculation, or the implied castration with the camera concentrated entirely upon
the hero's agonized face). More basic, however, is Anger's intention: He does not
want merely to show homosexuality; he wants his audience to feel the emotions of
a homosexual, to share in his dread and exultation. And in this he has notably
succeeded. General audiences are both fascinated and repelled by the work. Several
mental hospitals, including the famed Menninger clinic, book it regularly as one
of a series of psychological tests on their patients. The late Alfred Kinsey added 2
print of it to his choice collection of erotica. And, unsurprisingly, Tennessee Williams
has called it "The most exciting use of cinema I have seen.

Fireworks illustrates in an extreme form both the interests and the approach of
many of today's experimental film makers. They handle — (continued on page 46)

PLAYBOY

46

FAR OUT FILMS (4 from page 14)

the "forbidden" subjects, the themes
that are at once too special and too
shocking for the mass-appeal, multi-
million-dollar movie. And they handle
them in a manner that suggests a unique
blending of Sigmund Freud, Krafft-
Ebing and Allen Ginsberg. In them,
one will find Ginsberg's desolate alleys
and crumbling tenement flats, his mari-
juana dreams, and outraged howls
against thickskinned conventionality.
But the imagery, the choice of symbols —
knives, ladders, telephones, gushing
water —is definitely Freudian, while a
distinct aura of the psychopathology of
sex surrounds much of the action itself.

The Mechanics of Love, by Willard
Maas and Ben Moore, for example, is
yirtually a handbook of Freudian sex
symbology. A nude girl is seen in bed; a
young man strips off his trousers, then
his shirt, and advances upon her. As
they nuzzle, the progress of their love-
making is vividly illustrated by a veri-
table hail of phallic and vaginal symbols:
pens, pencils, scissors, a cactus plant,
a telephone pole; an upturned hat, a
letter box, a pot of boiling water. Coi-
tion itself is suggested by quick shots of
coal being shoveled into a furnace, a
knife cutting into a loaf of bread, and
the stitching action of a sewing ma-
chine. The final shot shows the slow
drip of a leaking faucet. It is just possi-
ble that Maas and Moore were conscious-
ly kidding when they made this film.
In any case, the hipper audiences roar
at the unequivocally specific nature of
their symbols. For others, the laughter
is just a. bit nervous. Perhaps they are
aware that Krafft-Ebing cites a number
of cases wherein people have preferred
to consider the sexual act amusing be-
cause they were incapable of performing
it themselves.

All too clearly, many of the experi-
mentalists look upon their camera as a
substitute for the psychiatrist's couch.
Through vivid—and often disturbing
— images, they work out their fears and
obsessions. Mother's Day, a surrealist
film by the San Francisco poet James
Broughton, is an elaborate valentine
against Mother. Mother, "who loved
everything beautiful" keeps her chil
dren infantile (adults are seen playing
childhood games — but tinged with a
wholly adult sadism and sexuality),
emasculates her husband (she pulls off
his beard in great handfuls), and as-
sumes the dominant position in the
household (the final shot shows her
posed imperiously with bowler hat and
riding crop). Broughton's commingled
admiration and resentment of this
glamorous, terrifying creature under-
lines his every image. In Curtis Har-
ringion's On the Edge, a length of wool
extends like a vast umbilical cord from

a young man wandering through a waste-
land to a woman who sits impassively
knitting with outsized needles. Self-
destruction recurs as the obsessional
theme in the films of Robert Vickrey,
self-mutilation in the films of Stan
Brakhage. In two of Brakhages pic-
tures, the eyes of the protagonist are
scratched out — metaphorically in Way
to Shadow Garden, where the hero
gouges out his own eyes and the re-
mainder of the film is seen in negative;
quite literally in Reflections on Black,
where Brakhage has scraped away the
film's emulsion whenever the eyes of the
blind hero are shown.

Brakhage, at once the most prolific,
talented and daring of the experimen-
talists working today, seldom fails to in-
corporate into his pictures moments of
sheer, provocative nastiness. In his De-
sistfilm, a young man is totally absorbed
in picking lint out of his navel. A teen-
ager smooches hungrily with a young
girl and their writhings are watched
through the window by a gang of ado-
lescents who lick their lips in naked
prurience. Flesh of Morning, in which
a young man (played by Brakhage him-
self) finds himself surrounded by poi
ant souvenirs of the girl he loves, cli-
maxes in a very specific masturbation.
Even in Window, Water, Baby, the film
that Brakhage composed on the birth
of his child, he cannot refrain from re-
peated shots of his hand caressing his
wife's distended belly.

But if the new avantgarde is obses-
sive about sex, that is by no means its
sole obsession. Terror courses through
these films, a terror compounded of
deep, personal insecurities and the rejec-
tion of all social norms. The Cage, by
Sidney Peterson, is wholly symptomatic.
The hero, his head trapped in a bird
cage, chases through the streets of San
Francisco after an elusive eyeball. But
as he runs forward, all the people and
vehicles race backwards. The young
man, in his single-minded pursuit, і
moving against the world. Robert Vick-
reys Texture of Decay is quite literally
a study in fear: a teenager, flecing from
a gang, rushes into a sumptuous, aban-
doned ruin where every scarted plank,
scabrous wall and shattered mirror bears
its own menace. Finally brought face to
face with his own image, the boy com-
mits suicide. In Vickrey's Appointment
with Darkness, the terror is that of a
young woman who fears pregnancy and
the pains of childbirth; she too chooses
suicide. In many of the films, the terror
is of a more tangible nature — the terror
that comes from either witnessing or re-
ceiving a savage beating. And invariably
terror leads to abject flight, with the
hero running from he knows not what
to he knows not where. Again, Kerouac,

Ginsberg and the other beat laureates
are called to mind. They too are on the
road fleeing and searching, but always
in vain. Unless death be an end in itself.
It is an attitude of mind calculated to
produce nothingness, zero. Everything
is challenged, and dismissed; everything
is suspect, nothing acceptable. Bourgeois
morality is loathesome to the “beats,”
but neither are they satisfied with the
scabby existence that comes with its re-
jection. All of this is almost painfully
apparent in the recent Pull My Daisy,
the first admittedly “beatnik” film to be
produced in this country. The work of
photographer Robert Frank and action
painter Alfred Leslie, this half-hour
plunge into the new lower depths is
based on an unpublished play by Jack
Kerouac— and accompanied by a spon-
taneous, unrehearsed narration deliv-
ered by Kerouac himself. As friends of
the author—Allen Ginsberg, Gregory
Corso, painter Larry Rivers—drift in
and out of a Village tenement flat, paus-
ing to drink beer, blow trumpet, puff
marijuana, or jibe at an incredibly
young and callow bishop who has im-
probably turned up in their midst,
Kerouac's raspy voice either comments
on their actions ("Doing things and say-
ing good-bye, saying good-bye and doing
things are almost the same. It’s time to
go now") or supplies lines for them
("Let's go and play by fires in the Bow-
ery"). There is a sense of improvisation
not only in his words, but in the action
and even the plot of the one extended
scene that makes up the entire film. The
mood of the piece is “what the hell”
and it is quite impossible to decide
whether Kerouac is pulling his daisy or
your leg. But just under the absurd sur-
face of its comings and goings, just
under the seeming irrelevancies of
Kerouacs running commentary, lurks
the uneasy suspicion that Pull My Daisy
is providing us with our first hard look
at a sickness of our times. x
Not all of today's experimental film”
makers, however, are concerned with
pathology and despair. Some, like Maya
Deren and Shirley Clarke, have experi-
mented in the creation of a new kind of
dance film, using the distortion poten-
tial of the camera and the editing proc-
ess to produce effects impossible in the
theatre. In one of her early films, Miss
Deren has a dancer begin a leap in a
sculpture court of the Museum of Mod-
ern Art, continue it across an open
field, and end it on the mantel in a liv-
ing room. Mrs. Clarke, in her Moment
in Love, emphasizes a passionate climax
with a long, lovely series of double and
triple exposures in slow motion that
echo and extend the moment of fulfill-
ment. Her Bullfight film intercuts a solo
by Anna Sokolow with documentary
footage shot at an actual corrida.
(continued on page 50)

GRECORY PECK WALKED OUT of the movie
Let’s Make Love because co-star Marilyn
Monroe's part kept getting padded by
Monroe's husband, unofficial script-doc-
tor Arthur Miller; Rock Hudson, who
yearned to fill the Peck brogans,
couldn't because of contractual entan-
glements; the fellow who landed the
lucky assignment was a 38-year-old
French song-and-dance man who coin-
cidentally had starred in the French
film version of Miller's The Crucible:
name, Yves Montand. No Peck or Hud-
son in looks, Montand is nonetheless
extremely popular in Europe, gave the
U.S. its first taste of his Gallic charm
last September as а $15,000-a-week
New York nightclub performer brought
over for his American debut by Norman
Granz, the jazz impresario who so effec-
tively promoted Ella Fitzgerald. “Mon-
tand's voice," declared The New York
Times, "shakes your hand, slaps you on
the back, winks at youl” Combining

2n

IF YoU APPRECIATED the publication of
the uncut Lady Chatterleys Lover, if
you've been digging the better Beat
bards in the Evergreen Review, if you've
recently read Beckett, Breton or Behan,
you're in debt to Barney Rosset, the
likeable, literate 37-year-old prexy of
Grove Press. Bought by Rosset for
$3000 in 1952 (his first publishing
plunge) and built up from a one-man
outfit over an underwear store on lower
Broadway to a booming fifty-man oper-
ation with posh University Square
offices, stillgrowing Grove's grossing a
cool million per annum, is the hottest
news in the publishing trade and al-
ready one of the country's top four
quality paperbackers, fulfilling Rosset's
promise to make it "the best off-Broad-
way house in the book business." Last
year Rosset made the front pages and
Grove made 140,000 hardcover sales at
$6 a shot plus a million and a half
paperback sales when they published
D. H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley, a
novel that has alvays been one of Ros-
set's literary light-ofloves. Marshaling
some $50,000 in law talent, Rosset scored

YVES MONTAND:
a wink of the voice

Continental polish with casual virility,
Montand mesmerizes audiences from
Moscow to Manhattan by zestfully act-
ing out each number—dancing, jug-
gling, mugging with hairtrigger timing.
Of Italian stock, he grew up in the
Marseilles harbor district, worked as
longshoreman, waiter, welder, at 18 was
imitating Trenet and Chevalier in
smoky French bistros, by 1944 had
caught the eye and car of Edith Piaf
who asked him to join her at the Moulin
Rouge, soon developed a unique vocal
style ("a mean, sexy sound, infinitely at-
” gushed a ladies-mag editor).
to gifted, sensuous Simone
(Room at the Top) Signoret, he has done
creditable straight acting in fine French
films like The Wages of Fear and the
aforementioned Crucible (opposite Sig-
noret). Montand has waxed several
albums here and abroad (dig Columbia's
One Man Show) and bids fair soon to
top his European popularity with a
sensational Stateside career.

BARNEY ROSSET:
lady chatterley s other lover

a legal, moral and artistic triumph over
the self-appointed (and un-Constitu-
tional) bluenoses of the U.S. Post Office
who had declared the Lawrence classic
“obscene,” thus realizing his “desire to
take a crack at censorship on a finan-
cially profitable basis." He's made some
twenty treks abroad since taking Grove's
helm, enlisted Europe's intellectual and
literary elite, was the first in the U.S. to
publish books by Beckett, Ionesco, Ar-
taud, Behan, Robbe-Grillet. For his
stable’s shorter works he founded the
Evergreen Review (circulation 25,000),
a slick avantgarde poetry and prose
quarterly: the first such magazine in
modern times to make it without loot
from foundations or universities. Heart-
ened by the encouraging precedent of
the Lady casc, Rosset docs not plan to
rest on his Lawrence laurels. Deter-
mined to thaw the long list of fine books
now languishing in the deep-freeze of
U.S. prudery, he's now talking about
putting Henry Millers banned-in-
America books (Tropic of Cancer,
Tropic of Capricorn) on his list. Citing
Putnam's Lolita and his own Lady, Ros-
set shrugs, "It's got to happen."

PLAYBOY

TRE HUMORIST

PLAYBOY

FAR OUT FILMS оше from poge 46)

Other experimentalists have used
their cameras to create vivid, though
weird, impressions of the world around
us. Francis Thompson's N.Y., N.Y., a top
prizewinner at Venice last summer, con-
denses a day in New York into seven-
teen unforgettable minutes by using
multi-image prisms and distorting lenses
that do not destroy reality so much as
give it back to us in new and delightful
guises. In one of his prism shots, a man
brushing his teeth in the morning is
multiplied a hundredfold, producing a
whole screenful of rhythmic brushings.
In Highway, Hillary Harris cuts tricked-
up shots of New York traffic to boogie-
woogie and blues rhythms for novelty
of another kind; while out in California
Jordan Belson has set swift-moving,
kaleidoscopic glimpses of mosaics, gar-
dens, sidewalks and tapestries to a
sound track of searing jazz.

Still another section of the avant-
garde rejects reality altogether. These
are the "art-for-art's-sakers" of this gen-
eration, concerned entirely with the ex-
ploration of various ways to produce
abstract, animated designs (often in
counterpoint to a musical score, either
classical or jazz). For them, technique
is everything. In their number are sev-
eral recognized, serious artists who have
been attracted to the medium by their
love for form and color, and intrigued
by the possibility of mobilizing these
through the camera’s bag of tricks. Car-
men D'Avino, for example, builds ex-
uberant patterns by adding dabs of
paint to his semi-abstract designs, pho-
tographing each new dab with a stop-
motion camera. When the film is run
off, they seem to sprout and climb like
a luxurious growth of multi-colored ivy
gone mad in the hot sun. James Davis,
who originally made his reputation as
an artist in plastics, creates striking pat-
terns of shifting color by photographing
the reflections and refractions of light as
it bounces off the variegated surfaces of
his plastic forms.

Perhaps the best known and most in-
ventive of the experimenters in this
particular field, however, is Canada’s
Norman McLaren, a shy, humorous Scot
who frequently paints or scratches his
abstract designs directly onto clear
35mm film. Sometimes he even draws
his own sound track as well, using brush
or pen to produce different qualities of
sound. Several of his little pictures —
notably Begone Dull Care, with a lively
accompaniment by the Oscar Peterson
Trio, and the amusingly carnest Neigh-
bors— have achieved a distinction all
but unique among the art films: they
have been exhibited by some of the more
advanced art theatres in this country.

When created by men of taste and ar-
istic sensitivity, such films can be truly

stimulating, even exhilarating. They
charm the eye with new color and spa-
tial relationships. When music is added,
two of the senses are gratified simulta-
neously, and the effect is more than
twice as pleasing. In less delicate hands,
however, these abstract films can quickly
degenerate into rather tedious doodling
that may amuse the artists, but has no
business being inflicted on a paying
customer. In a very special way, these
too reveal the intense narcissism of to-
day's innovators. Dedicated they may
be to their art, but underlying all is
their conviction that because they have
chosen to play around with a camera,
everyone must want to see the results.
They admit quite readily that commu-
nication is not their purpose — but they
want their lack of communication to be
admired.

It has become fashionable among cer-
tain film historians to regard these so-
called — and often self-styled — experi-
mentalists as simply an extension or a
repetition of the movement that sprang
up in Europe during the Twenties.
They point to similarities in techniques,
content and approach. Some have even
suggested that “aprés-garde” might be a
far more suitable appellation. Actually,
despite these superficial resemblances,
there is a very real difference between
the two movements. During the Twen-
ties, recognized artists such as Dali,
Marcel Duchamp, Fernand Léger, Man
Ray and Moholy-Nagy briefly embraced
the flm medium as another area in
which to explore their concepts of
Dadaism, Surrealism and the other artis-
tic -isms of the day. They made a film
or two, then promptly moved back to
their brushes, still cameras or chisels.
"Todays experimentalists are unabash-
edly claiming that flm is an art form
in its own right and the form that
gives them the utmost freedom for
self-expression.

The catalyst of this postwar avant-
garde was Maya Deren, a gifted young
woman with flaring red hair, the face
of a Botticelli virgin and a will of iron.
Married then to Alexander Hammid,
an expert documentary cameraman and
director, she made with him three short
film poems on 16mm, Meshes in the
Afternoon, At Land and Choreography
for Camera. Early in 1946 Miss Deren
organized a showing of her pictures at
New York's historic Provincetown Play-
house (seating capacity, 200), billing
them intriguingly ai Three Abandoned
Films. When she arrived for the first
screening, there was such a crowd mill-
ing about in the street that, as she later
put it, “I felt sure the theatre must be
on fire.” This first triumphant showing
developed into a series, and the series
led to screenings and lectures at uni-

versities and museums around the coun-
try. Everywhere she went, in everything.
she wrote, she proselytized for the new
form, for 16mm film as a medium of
personal expression.

And because 16mm equipment is rela-
tively inexpensive, because it can be
handled by an individual without the
necessity of studiosized, union-scaled
crews of cameramen, assistant camera-
men, electricians, gaffers, prop men,
hairdressers, and all the other crafts
and skills required for standard 355mm
production, a movement quickly sprang
up in her wake. On the West Coast, in
Los Angeles and San Francisco, informal
groups came together to make, show and
discuss experimental films. In New York
early in 1947, and as a direct conse-
quence of the Deren programs, Cinema
16 was formed. The nation’s largest
and most successful film society, it now
numbers well over five thousand mem-
bers and shows on a regular basis the
pick of art pictures from all over the
world. Because of this showcase, more
young people became film makers. Simi-
lar, if smaller, organizations began to
spring up elsewhere, particularly in
those colleges and universities sponsor-
ing film societies or film appreciation
courses. By 1958, when the Brussels
World's Fair held an International Ex-
perimental Film Festival competition,
with cash prizes totaling $15,000 to
spur the entries, the United States not
only submitted the most films (over a
hundred), but had the highest number
of entries accepted from any single
country (fifty) —and walked off with six
of the eleven prizes.

"The Brussels Experimental Film Fes-
tival did more than demonstrate the su-
periority of America’s postwar move-
ment, however. It emphasized that what
has been happening in the United States
is no purely local phenomenon. Entries
came from France, England, Germany,
Italy, Sweden, Argentina, Israel, Japan,
Austria and, from behind the Iron Cur-
tain, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Yugo-
slavia— more than four hundred films
in all (Russia, it was rumored, sub-
mitted ten documentaries as experimen-
als, all of which were rejected) Even
more surprising, a Polish film, Dom,
took the top honors, while the Bronze
Medal (third prize) went to another
Polish experiment, Two Men and a
Wardrobe. Commenting boldly on the
social scene, they revealed an independ-
ence of spirit and vision as fresh as it
was unexpected by western observers.

No less surprising, to the American
contingent especially, was the extent to
which production of this kind has ob-
tained state support throughout Europe.
The Polish films were completely fi-
nanced by the government. In England,
France, Germany and Italy, financing

(continued on page 58)

a pretty pittsburghian lightly turns our fancy

SPRING SONG -na

In happy pursuit of her hobby, antique collecting, lovely Linda Gamble is unaware
that her modern beauty provides a pleasant contrast to the artifacts of the past.

NOBODY HAS WRITTEN A sonc about April in Pittsburgh and perhaps nobody ever
will, but if one concentrates on inhabitants rather than euphony and poesy, one
can find inspiration for an infinite number of notions almost anywhere, no matter
what the season. This, of course, is precisely our modus operandi at PLAYBOY, as we
engage in our happy scarch for the best in beauty. So it was not surprising when, in
the musty confines of an antique shop, we came across an enticing example of young
enchantment, Linda Gamble, Linda is an amateur antique collector who says her
enthusiasm makes up for the fact that she's a beginner. In Pittsburgh she's a private
secretary, and here and now she’s our admirable Miss April.

PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES

When she found out that the handsome
young millionaire was fond of hunting.
Joyce told

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines:

anatomy as something that everybody
has, but it looks better on a girl.

bore as a guy with a cocktail glass in one
hand and your lapel in the other.

cooperation as an exchange between a
man and a woman in which she coos
while he operates.

ood clean fun as a couple taking a
Bath together.

husband as an unfortunate who began
by handing out a line and ended by
walking it.

kiss as an application for a better posi-
tion.

Madison Avenue executive as one who
takes the padding out of his shoulders
and puts it on his expense account.

slip cover as a maternity dress.

Almost as pitiable as the fellow who
was tried and found wanting is the guy
who wanted and was found trying.

Generally speaking, women are.

When Cleo's parents threatened to for-
bid her to sce her boyfriend unless she

told them why he'd been there so late
the night before, she finally began to
talk.

“Well.” she said. "I

took him into
the loving room, and — "

“Thats ‘living, dear," her mother
interrupted.

Said the happy girl, “You're telling
mel”

These days the necessities of life cost
you about three times what they used to,
and half the time you find they aren't
even fit to drink.

A girl with a well-developed sense of
fashion realizes that bare skin never
clashes with anything she's wearing.

In the new jet planes, you know you're
moving faster than sound when the
stewardess slaps your face before you can
get a word out.

History credits Adam and Eve with be-
ing the first bookkeepers, because they
invented the loose-leaf system.

A man who looked like a high-powered
business executive began to drop in at
Milton's Bar regularly, and his order
was always the same: two martinis.
After several weeks of this, Milton asked
him why he didn't order a double in-
stead of always ordering two singles.

“Its a sentimental thing,” the сиз
tomer answered. "A very dear friend of
mine died a few weeks ago, and before
his death he asked that when 1 drink, I
have onc for him, too."

A week later, the customer came in
and ordered only one martini.

“How about your dead buddy?" М!
ton asked. "Why only one martini

is is my buddy's drink," the man
said as he gulped the martini down.
"I'm on the wagon.”

Heard any good ones lately? Send your
favorites to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY,
232 E. Ohio SL, Chicago 11, Ill, and
earn an easy $25.00 for each joke used.
In case of duplicates, payment goes to
first received. Jokes cannot be returned.

“All right, all right, class — now that we've had our little laugh...”

91

PLAYBOY

FAR OUT FILMS continued тот page 50)

often comes from special taxes levied on
commercial films, or from rebates from
movie houses showing art shorts. In the
United States, on the other hand, scrap-
ing together the money to make a pic-
ture is strictly a private affair. Apart
from the Creative Film Foundation, an
organization started by Maya Deren a
few years ago to channel funds to de-
serving film makers, there is literally no-
where to turn.

As a result, America's would-be film
makers either have to be reasonably
well-heeled themselves or be prepared
for a rather rough time of it. Some, in
the tradition of the garret artists of
another era, live literally hand to mouth,
devoting every extra dollar to the pur-
chase of precious raw stock and equip-
ment. Their studios are the basement
of an East Side tenement, or five flights
up in a Village cold-water flat. They
support themselves by writing, teaching
or taking on commercial art assign-
ments, or simply by doing whatever
handyman work comes their way. Sym-
pathetic friends supplement with invi-
tations to dinner, a spare bedroom or
loans that they never expect to see paid
back.

Others, more blessed with worldly
goods, can afford to approach film with
something of the attitude of a Sunday
painter. For them it is a part-time ac-
tivity, an avocation. Valentine Sherry,
whose Coney Island, U.S.A. has won
prizes at Venice and Edinburgh, is a
diamond merchant who mastered cine-
matography and editing to convey his
own vivid, highly personal impression
of New York's shopworn Lido. Francis
Thompson, a successful documentary di-
rector and cameraman, spent almost ten
years composing his kaleidoscopic N.Y.,
N.Y. Ian Hugo is the pseudonym of a
New York banker; his Bells of Atlantis,
set to the cool, silvery poetry of his wife,
Anais Nin, captures in shifting, multi-
layered images the lure and mystery of
that fabled city beneath the sea. Shirley
Clarke, another Venice prize-winner, is
the wife of a prosperous New York
businessman (and sister of Elaine Dun-
dy, author of The Dud Avocado and
wife of drama critic Kenneth Tynan).

But for all of them, rich and poor
alike, the problem remains the same. Al-
though the cost of a 16mm experimental
film may vary from a few hundred to
a few thousand dollars (in contrast to the
hundreds of thousands or even millions
that it takes to produce а 85mm com-
mercial feature), it is still a considerable
drain when it all comes out of one pri-
vate pocket Amortization, the earning
back of mcrely the negative costs on an
experimental flm, is inevitably a matter
of years — if it comes about at all. And
showing a profit is out of the question.

Not surprisingly, therefore, many of
the people most active in the estab-
lishment of the new avant-garde in the
years just after the war are now con-
spicuously absent from the lists. Curtis
Harrington, with possibly the finest
camera eye of them all, has become an
assistant to Jerry Wald at 20th Century-
Fox. James Broughton, whose surrealist
Potted Psalm and Mother's Day rivaled
Maya Deren’s pictures in the storms of
controversy they aroused, now devotes
himself to writing plays and poetry in
San Francisco. Francis Lee, an abstract
designer, draws television commercials.
Sidney Peterson, Kenneth Anger, lan
Hugo, Gregory Markopoulos—all of
these and more— have gone for years
without producing any new works.

But if the hard facts of finance even-
tually dampen the enthusiasm of indi-
vidual film makers, nevertheless the
ranks of the avant-garde continue to
grow. For some, there is the hope of
recognition, the possibility that genius
will be rewarded with a big fat contract
either in Hollywood or with one of the
television networks. For others, the sole
concern is the opportunity that the me-
dium affords to make a personal, inde-
pendent, sincerely felt artistic state-
ment on film, or to explore with their
own sensibilities a form that is still fresh
and new. And there are still others, it
must be admitted, who arc complete
charlatans. They have discovered a field
where shock, sensationalism, perversion
and downright bad taste can masquerade
successfully in the guise of art because
audiences have not yet learned to dif-
ferentiate the good from the bad, the
real from the phony.

Charlatans have also invaded the field
because they have discovered that an
avant-garde label can be helpful in their
love-life, whatever form it may take.
Their work becomes a means to an end,
and that end is not necessarily cellu-
loidal. Perhaps they have seen a num-
ber of experimental movies at film so-
ciety showings, movies in which undress-
ing or being undressed play an impor-
tant part. It all looks so simple! Before
long they have convinced themselves
that they too can be art film makers.
After all, what do you need beyond a
16mm camera, a few lights, an available
apartment and a willing girl (or boy)?
It's such a good approach, too. An invi-
tation to star in an avantgarde movic is
so much more impressive than an offer
to enjoy etchings.

Fortunately, few of the films made
under such inspiration ever reach the
screen. Few of them, in fact, ever get
beyond the crucial scene that was their
original raison d'étre. For making а
movie—any kind of movie—is hard
work; and when coupled with the

chronic lack of funds that seems to be-
set most young experimental film mak-
ers, it can become doubly frustrating.
Discipline is required —discipline, and
a sense of dedication.

Because there is rarely enough money
to cover anything more than the cost
of film stock—and not always enough
for that—the actors in avant-garde
films are frequently personal friends of
the director, or friends of friends. Often
they are actors or dancers who are tem-
porarily "at liberty.” (What true actor
could resist the opportunity to appear
in a movie, even though it be for free?)
If the film maker is relatively solvent,
he may provide for them а light colla-
ton of sandwiches, coffee and beer;
more often, however, the performers
must fend for themselves. And because
money is scarce, these productions are
generally made with fantastic economy.
In Hollywood, the studios think noth-
ing of shooting ten, twenty, even fifty
times the footage they need to make a
picture. Most avant-gardists consider it
an extravagance to shoot more than
three-to-one, and often squeak by on
two-to-one or less.

The experimental film maker with
any experience at all soon comes to
rely upon improvisation and the “happy
accident” to guide the development of
his pictures. Indeed, the very nature of
these films makes a detailed shooting
Script out of the question. Too much
depends on the inspiration of the mo-
ment, or on the physical resources at
hand. Often a prop, a setting, or an
unforeseen disaster will dictate the han-
dling of an entire sequence. In one of
Maya Deren's films, At Land, a night-
marish episode involves Miss Deren
crawling the length of a sumptuous
banquet table under the very noses of
the startled guests. To stage it, she per-
suaded a friend of hers, a long-time resi-
dent at one of New York's fashionably
faded hotels, to coax the management
into letting her shoot in one of their
large, private dining rooms. The man-
ager agreed, the date was set, and at
the appointed hour Miss Deren moved
in with camera, lights and two dozen
“guests.” She outlined the action, re-
hearscd her cast, then set up for the
first shot. And blew all the fuses. The
hotel’s antique wiring just could not
take the load necessary to light the
scene properly. Undaunted, Miss Deren
dispatched her cast in all directions to
buy up all the fuses they could find. With
a stop watch she timed how long it took
for a fuse to burn through. Then, rear-
ranging the sequence in her head, she
went on to shoot the scene —in thirty-
second snatches. Incredibly enough,
through adroit intercutting the scene
plays as smoothly as if it had been
planned that way from the start.

(concluded on page 85)

OBODY OWES ANY PUBLIC DUTY to pay more than the law demands; taxes are enforced exactions,
not voluntary contributions. To demand more in the name of morals is mere cant.” Thus spake
Judge Learned Hand in one of his learned decisions, and PLAYEOY heartily endorses his words.
fl Feeling partial to the salaried male, we offer here some pointed pointers on how he may go along
with the dictum of the good Judge Hand, legitimately but meaningfully cutting down on his yearly yield
to the feds.

For the unattached salaried male, Transportation and Entertainment (T & E) constitute the most fer-
tile field for tax trimming — but this is also the area wherein the revenue agents seek, and find, the most
flagrant cheating, Until 1958, expense accounters were required to report all T & E reimbursements as
income. They were then to deduct their expenses against such income. Not so any more. Under the new
rules, if your expenses and reimbursements are equal — and if you account to your employer for these
expenses — you don’t have to report them at all on your tax return. This is a highly desirable procedure
since it enables you to file a clean return, that is, one with no unusual deductions to arouse suspicion and
invite the eagle eyes of the auditors. Sadly, this is seldom the case: most salaried employees seem to incur
expenses in excess of the reimbursements received from their employers. It’s the nature of the beast. If
this is your situation, you will have to report your total reimbursement as income —as you did in days of
yore — and list all of your expenses on your return. And you must be able to submit evidence of such deduc-
tions if your return is examined, to prove these expenses were a required part of your job.

But there is a legal way around this. Let's assume that your employment requires you to incur expenses
for which you are not reimbursed. (It is practically impossible to list every phone call, taxi trip, luncheon,
cocktail, hat-check tip, etc., paid out during the course of business — yet these are legitimate expenses, and
deductible.) Your employer can aid you with your expense reporting by adjusting your salary downward
and supplementing it with an expense allowance equal to the salary adjustment. You then account to him
for these additional expenses, but he probably won't insist on an extremely accurate accounting, since your
total take has not increased and the money is in a sense coming from your own salary anyway. With this
happy arrangement, you can avoid the sometimes sticky job of supporting your deductions, since neither
reimbursements nor offsetting expenses need be reported on your tax return. You'll also increase your
weekly take-home pay immediately by this arrangement, since no payroll taxes will be withheld from your
expense allowance. It works like so: say you draw a salary of $15,000 a year and incur $3000 worth of busi-
ness expenses for which your boss reimburses you and $3000 worth of business expenses for which he
doesn't reimburse you. Ask him to
lower your salary to $12,000 a
year, with an allowance of $6000
for business expenses. (He loses
nothing, since his total outlay is
still $18,000.) Then you furnish
him with chits for your $6000 in
expenses and report a taxable
salary of only $12,000, your $6000
expenses having been offset by
$6000 in reimbursements so that
neither item — according to the
new law — need be reported.

But if for some reason your
employer refuses to go along with
this, and you still have to deduct — , . B B . 3
business expenses that have not ps on shaving your income taxes without getting nicked
been reimbursed, there are still
ways to reduce Uncle's tax bite.

As long as you can show business justification, practically every conceivable type of entertainment is
deductible. The usual entertainment deductions include tickets to the theatre, sporting events, cost of meals,
drinks and club dues. You can deduct your costs of entertainment at home as well as at a club or similar
place. But if you entertain at home be sure to keep detailed records on what you spend and on whom you
spend it, and above all be prepared to prove you entertained for business, not for pleasure.

In the past you could deduct all your entertainment expenses — including the amount you spent on
yourself. Now you'll find that revenue agents will try to disallow the cost of your own entertainment on
the grounds that it's a personal expense, since you would have spent the money anyway. For example, if
you took two customers to lunch and picked up an $18 tab, the agent might disallow one third of that
expense, or $6, as the amount covering your luncheon cost. However, you can counter this line of attack by

59

PLAYBOY

claiming you spent more than you cus-
tomarily would on yourself because you
were out with clients. In this case, you
could deduct the amount in excess of
what you would normally spend.

"Tax agents may also try to disallow
the cost of your own tickets when you
entertain for business purposes at the-
atres, sporting events and the like. In
such cases you may retain the deduction
for your own ticket costs by showing
that you don’t usually go in for such
entertainment.

Travel expense isn't as vulnerable to
Treasury attack as entertainment. But
true to form, the Treasury frowns on
mixing business with pleasure (e.g., at-
tending conventions or trade meetings
that happen to be held in resort areas
at the height of the season). You are
allowed the travel expense deduction
only if you can show the trip was pri-
marily for business, not pleasure. So if
you plan to attend a business conven-
tion in Hawaii lasting one week. don't
spend another three weeks vacationing
there — unless you have probe-proof
evidence that the first week was strictly
biz—or you'll find that the entire wip
may be considered a pleasure jaunt.
Your businesetravel deductions can
cover expenses for transportation, tele-
phone, telegraph, tips, samples and dis-
play material, hotel rooms and, of
course, stenographic services. You can
also deduct your meal costs if you are
away from home overnight. And you
can take your secretary along and de-
duct her expenses, provided you pay
for them and she performs essential
services — businesswise.

Uncle Sam will absorb a portion of
your auto expense, too, if your job re-
quires the use of a car. You can deduct
the depreciation of the car, insurance,
gas, repairs, parking, car washes and all
other required outlays. Depreciation
will generally be your greatest auto ex-
pense deduction. You're ordinarily al-
lowed to write off the purchase price of
the car — less its salvage value—over а
fouryear period. For example, if you
paid $4400 for the car, your annual de-
preciation, on a straight-line method,
would be $1000, assuming a salvage value
of $400. But you can speed up your
depreciation deduction when you buy a
new car and take advantage of an ac
celerated method of calculating depreci-
ation: such as the 200% declining
balance. Under this fast write-off, using
a four-year life for the car, you can de-
duct 50% of the cost, or $2200, in the
frst year. In the second year you can
deduct 50% of the remaining balance
($2200), or $1100. In effect, under the
fast write-off method, your depreciation
rate is double that of the straight-line
method. Thus, by taking a higher depre-
ciation deduction in the first year of car
ownership, you get an assist from Uncle

Sam in financing your car through tax
savings. Because this write-off rate is
applied to the undepreciated cost of the
car each year (instead of the original
cost), if you regularly buy a new car
every three years, you may legitimately
usc a three-year life in calculating de-
preciation on your car. Under the
fast write-off method this would result
in a depreciation rate of 66249. Based
on an auto cost of $4400, the first year's
depreciation deduction would be about
$2900 as compared to $2200 on the
basis of a fouryear life. The salvage
value would also be higher, and this
would cut your saving a little.

It is a known and sad fact that homo
sapiens non domesticus (bachelors) can-
not qualify for many tax reducers open
to their married brethren — no joint re-
tum, no deductions for dependent
wives, no trust funds for kiddies, etc.
But there are several methods by which
the bachelor can garner some of the
benefits available to married folk, and
a little bit more. If the single fellow
purchases a cooperative apartment, for
instance, he can claim the real-estate tax
and mortgage interest deductions avail-
able to homeowners. If he pays more
than half the cost of maintaining a
household for his parents, he can figure
his tax from a special rate schedule
which gives him many of the advantages
that a married couple gets from a joint
return. (Incidentally, if he contributes
toward his parents’ support — even
though his father still works — he
should apply his contribution to his
mother, so that he can claim her as a
dependent) Even if he has an illegiti-
mate child somewhere, he still has a
legitimate tax deduction if he contrib-
utes to more than half of the child's
support.

There is even a way that the bachelor
can write off the costs of dating, by em-
ploying a so-called “short-term” trust.
Say you figure you've been spending
roughly $4000 a year squiring a certain
young lady around town. If you wish,
you can transfer some real-estate hold-
ings — which give you an annual income
equal to your dating outlay—into a
shortterm trust, in the name of the
lady. (She receives only the income from
this trust, not the assets, which revert
to you on the termination of the trust.)
Under this arrangement, the $4000 in-
come is no longer taxed to you, and
this means an annual saving of $2000,
if you are in the 50% tax bracket (sin-
gle people reach the 50%, bracket when
taxable income tops $16,000). This type
of trust can also be used to transfer
income to parents you may be support-
ing.

Estate planning is another legitimate
means of reducing taxes. This usually
involves arrangements whereby an in-
dividual gives away part of his estate
during his lifetime to reduce his estate

and hence estate taxes payable at his
death. But younger guys can take ad-
vantage of a form of estate planning
that works on the reverse principle.
Here an individual gives away assets to
an older person who he believes will pre-

decease him, but who will bequeath
these assets back to him.

To understand how these tax savings
operate, it's

important to know that the
for assets owned at one’s
death is their fair market at the time of
death — not at the time of purchase. A
tax basis is the figure subtracted from
the selling price of an asset that deter-
mines whether a taxable profit has been
made. For instance, if someone buys
stock for $10,000 and it goes up to
$30,000 before his death, he pays no
taxes on the paper profits. He only pays
taxes if he sells it. If he sells it, his tax
basis is $10,000 — the price he paid for
it— and he must pay capital gains taxes
on his $20,000 profit. But if he dies and
you inherit this stock and sell it for
$30,000, you pay no taxes because in an
inheritance the tax basis is the fair mar-
ket value at the tirne of death, or $30,000.
Subtracting the $30,000 tax basis from
the $30,000 selling price gives a taxable
profit of zero.

Planning with this principle in mind,
let's suppose you own stock which origi-
nally cost $10,000 but which has in-
creased in value to $30,000. You've paid
no taxes on your paper profit, but will
have to pay taxes if you sell the stock.
Instead, you decide to give the stock to
an elderly aunt with the tacit under-
standing that she'll will it to you on her
death. (This agreement must not be in
written or contractual form, or the gov-
ernment may get you for tax fraud. If
you merely have a tacit understanding,
you should be able to get by with no
trouble from the government.) You pay
no gift tax on the stock, since you are
entitled to give $30,000 of tax-free gifts
in a lifetime. And, meanwhile, your aunt
will be reaping the stock dividends. She
wills the stock to you. If her estate is
below $60,000, there is no inheritance
tax to be paid. Since you've inherited
the stock, the tax basis is now $30,000.
You've saved yourself several thousand
dollars in taxes, since—if you hadn't
made such an agreement — ће stock
would still have a tax basis of $10,000
(your purchase price), and when you
sold it for $30,000 you would have had to
pay a capital gains tax on your $20,000
profit. Depending on your income
bracket, such a tax could run up to
$5000.

Long-term capital gain provides the
most desirable form of taxable income
in terms of enabling you to reduce your
taxes. If your regular income is subject
to a tax of 50% or under, then only half

(continued on page 62)

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61

PLAYBOY

TAX VOBISCUM

your long-term capital gain will have to
be reported to the government. Should
your regular income hit a tax bracket
greater than 50%, then the tax payable
on your long-term capital gain would be
only 25%.

There are a number of conditions that
must be satisfied before you can take ad-
vantage of the tax law on long-term
capital gains. Capital gain income is only
claimable in situations involving the sale
of capital assets. Examples of such capi-
tal assets are securities and real estate.
You must hold the capital asset for at
Jeast six months in order for the profit
on the sale to qualify as long-term cap-
ital gain. If the asset is held under six
months, any profit on the sale must be
treated as a short-term capital gain, tax-
able at the same rate as your salary.

The sale must also be one that is not
in your professional line of work. Auto
salesmen may not claim the profit they
make on auto sales as long-term capital
gain. But the private individual who
sells his car can. Stamp-shop owners
can't call their profits capital gains, but
philatelists who decide to part with their
collections can put such earnings down
as capital gains.

If you don’t require investment in-
come for current needs, you can save
taxes by investing in stocks that yield
stock dividends (e.g., International Busi-
ness Machines) which are not usually
taxable, instead of cash dividends that
are taxable in the same way as regular
income. Any profit on the sale of such
stock dividends, if sold over six months
from the time the stock was purchased,
would be taxed as a long-term capital
gain. By investing in stockdividend-
paying stocks, your investment income
is taxed as capital gains instead of ordi-
nary income, which can result in large
tax savings.

Certain kinds of real estate offer an-
other route to high-depreciation deduc-
tions—and hence tax saving. An
investment in real estate, if sound, will
generally yield a spendable return of
10% or over on cash investment. (Spend-
able return is the excess of rental in-
come aver mortgage payments, real-estate
taxes, and all other costs of operating
the property.) While receiving a satis-
factory profit on your investment you
may legitimately report a substantial
loss. Generally, an investment in new
furnished apartments permits use of fast
write-off depreciation methods that pro-
duce maximum depreciation deductions,
and hence lower taxes. The government
figures four years as the life of furniture
in a furnished apartment. The property
can be sold several years after purchase,
after the heaviest depreciation write-offs
have been taken. The profit on the sale
is reported as long-term capital gain. If

(continued from poge 60)

you don't have enough of your own
funds, you might form a real-estate in-
vestment club to make such investments
on a partnership basis, or you may join
a club already operating.

For those who might be interested in
the tax savings of furnished apartments,
but not in the problems of management,
there are firms that have undertaken to
build ideal taxsaving properties for in-
vestors. They will lease the entire prop-
erty from the investor at a fixed rental
which will cover the mortgage, real-
estate taxes and other required pay-
ments. This arrangement will also pro-
duce the tax loss through depreciation,
which you may then apply against your
reportable income. In addition, they will
contract to buy this property from you
after four years at a price that will give
you a good return on your investment.
Some of them even guarantee their com-
mitments by an insurance bond or equiv-
alent collateral, making this a safe and
saving way to receive a guaranteed re-
turn on your investment on a low-tax
capital gain basis, and at the same time
reduce your current taxable income.

You can deduct up to 20% of your
adjusted gross income for donations to
any type of charitable organization.
‘And you can deduct up to an additional
10% of adjusted gross income for gifts
to either religious associations, tax-
exempt educational organizations, or
tax-exempt hospitals. (Your adjusted
gross income is the total income shown
at the bottom of the first page of your
income tax return.)

Everyone knows that a $1000 cash
gift to an institution is deductible, but
not everyone knows that you can satisfy
an urge for philanthropy and still make
a profit at the same time. Here's how
one chap did it. As a grateful alumnus,
he gave $1000 annually to his alma
mater, At first these contributions were
made in cash. Later, however, he do-
nated stock worth about $1000 each
year, and often the tax saved on the
contribution deduction was greater than
what he would have kept after taxes had
he sold the stock and retained the pro-
ceeds, You can't expect to make a profit
on all your contributions of this sort,
but you can reduce the after-tax cost of
your contribution by making it in stock
or other property that has increased
in value since purchase — instead of in
cash.

If you're able to purchase something
—usually an antique, painting or other
objet d'art — at below its appraised cost,
you can donate it to a charitable institu-
tion and claim its appraised value as
the amount of your donation.

On a $15,000 Ming vase purchased
for $5000 and donated to a museum, you
can figure the full $15,000 as your de-

duction. (The appraised value of the
gift is all that legally matters to the
‘Treasury agent. Your purchase price
need not even be mentioned.) Similarly,
if you purchase a painting for $5000
and it increases in value over the years
to $20,000, you'll have to pay a capital
gains tax if you sell it, but you can
claim the full $20,000 if you donate it.

Even life insurance may offer an
avenue of tax saving. There is a form of
insurance called "specia! whole life
policy” coverage. The insurance com-
panies offering this type of coverage
work out a payment schedule which in
effect reflects loans against the policy's
cash surrender value so as to provide
maximum coverage at minimum cost.
The premiums are less than one fourth
of those on regular life policies. The
payments do increase slightly each year,
but under this form of insurance, a
major portion of your payments actually
represents interest expense and can be
deducted as such. On the other hand,
no deduction can be taken for premium
payments on an ordinary form of life
insurance. Incidentally, if you now carry
a life insurance policy on which you re-
ceive dividends, don't report these divi-
dends as income. Such dividends are
merely considered to be a reduction of
your premium payments.

If you expect your income to be ex-
ceptionally higher this year and to place
you in a higher tax bracket, you might
consider prepaying interest on апу
loans you have in order to build up
your deductions this year to offset the
higher income. The Treasury recently
ruled that five years' interest paid in
advance may be deducted in the year
it is paid.

Bunching deductions in one year by
prepayment can also apply to your
taxes. For example, state income tax (if
you're stuck in a state that has one) is
normally payable early the following
year but may be paid by December 31
of the year for which the return is filed.
The same practice may be applied to
your property taxes. If you later hit an
inordinately low income year, you can
let your prepayed taxes and interest
catch up, since the deductions allowed
for these in-a low bracket year won't
amount to much. Then, when another
high-income year comes along, you can
double up and prepay a year of local
taxes and several years of interest.

Other basic deductible taxes are sales
and gasoline taxes and your motor vehi-
de license — although these can't be
prepaid. Nor can the prepayment
method be used for medical expenses.
You must have already incurred the
medical expense for the payment to be
deductible. But in figuring your medical
expense, you can also include the travel
costs in going to and from a doctor's

(continued on page 83)

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64

from argentina,
a new challenger for

less-dressed honors

Above: scenes from Soboleros (The Shad Fishermen), Isabel Sorlis' second movie, show the Argentinion film stor netting a catch (left) and
disploying in silhouette ogainst the net (right) some of the boit thot helped her capture first prize in the Miss Argentina beauty contest.

MOST AMERICANS COULD, if pressed, tell you that they've got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil, but few can remem-
ber Argentina's claims to fame. This is a condition that should change immediately, the reason for the change
being a comely catalyst named Isabel Sarlis. B.I. (Before Isabel), Argentina’s film fare was a drab collection of
fulsome footage — then, single-handedly, she sparked it into bestselling life. Her method is strongly reminis-
cent of Brigitte Bardot’s: in each of her first three films, little, if any, of the splendid Sarlis structure is left to the
imagination. Ardent Argentines have responded by queueing up quickly at any theatre showing her movies,
and we can readily see why. To the avid applause of her canny countrymen, we add our most enthusiastic ; Ole!

Movie audiences hove discovered thot o dip in the
nude con be tremendously refreshing. Above and
below: bathing sequences in Isabel's first movie,
The Thunder Among the Leaves, mode the film an
instantaneous box-office smosh and Isabel a star.
In pointed contrast to the Bardot school of
scenery, it is interesting to note thot there is
virtually nothing childish about Isobel's charms.

Below: director Armando Bo offers Isabel o helping hond. Isobel’s discoverer
and mentor, Bo is the Argentine's thin onswer to Orson Welles. For the film
Sabaleros he wos producer, director, author ond star. He is best known, how-
ever, as the fellow who first encouraged Isobel to emote in the oltogether.

Above: the Sorlis svelteness bids fair to be the best-bathed
body in cinematic history. The film cuttage small by a
waterfall is from India, Isabel's third movie, and, by co-
incidence, the third in which she's dunked her form divine.

Far left and left: in India, plucky Isabel covered her
comeliness with little more than feathers, yet managed
to stay unrufiled. Above: Isabel's neighborly display of
pretty pelt, as when she emerges from a sheet, may become
‘one of the most popular features of the Good Neighbor Policy.

67

“Author! Author!”

nie EU. ET pim he eR ya.

humor By A. C. SPECTORSKY

THE OTHER DAY a new office boy brought
me my mail. He was a clean-cut lad
and impeccably dressed. His manner
was neither obsequious nor too forward
as his eyes traveled over my office, assay-
ing the quarters he expected to take
over from me within a matter of months,
and his answers to my words of greeting
and inquiries concerning his background
(В.А. in journalism; yes, this was his
first job) were models of grammar, rhet-
oric and diction. When I was alone
again, an odd thing happened: mem-
ory tugged at my mind, a memory
stimulated by the total oppositeness of
it to this youth who had evoked it. The
image was of Joey Moscow, an office boy
of years gone by and in another city.
Joey — gangling, wild, eager and largely
self-educated. Joey—a lad whose con-
stant abuse of the language was so com-
pellingly evocative, so naturally artis
that it made the work of expert but con-
ventional writers seem mundane and
drab.

Consider the pungent precision of his
comment on a salesman who'd returned
somewhat loaded from a wet lunch and
caused a disturbance in the reception
room. “He was drunken disorderly,” said
Joey — immediately creating a mental
picture of the kind of disorderliness
the man had displayed. Or his comment
on a mild-mannered clerk's puny out-
burst of temper: “He was rabbit with
rage."

Sometimes Joey would beguile me and
dispel late-afternoon doldrums with an
account of one of his numerous picar-
esque adventures, Disjointed and im-
probable though they sounded, the
vividness of his unintended Joyce-isms
gave the stories a kind of surreal splen-
dor. One such went like this:

"I get home last night and find a tele-
phone message another roomer left for
me. So, he writes cockeyed, you know!
I couldn't unscrabble the code, morse
the pity. But I had an idea it was from
this girl, Elnor, a real tall blonde, her
built reminds you of that Venus the

mileo. So I'm in competition for her
flavors with this rich guy, but she digs
me more. He's a nasty type, tiny eyes
and shakes hands like a limp fish, but
Elnor likes to go out and he's the high
bitter so he gets the dates. Usually, the
next day, Elnor is sorry and calls me.
Like last night, from a phone booth?
So I thought to hell with her, I was
mad I couldn't read the message, and
1 called another doll, a young, zehftig
type, a kind of Earthy Kit— what a
titbit! I figure ГЇЇ take her to this
Napoleontin restaurant— they serve
Italian food?— where maybe I'll see
Elnor and this guy in his Ivy Lee
clothes, and make her jealous.

"It was a lousy meal, even the dessert.
I took one teste and wanted to spit it
out—spewmoni ice cream. But then
Elnor came in with the rich guy and
they sit near us but pretend not to see
us. He must have caught a piece of
foreign madder in his eye — it was red?
He tried to ignore it and kept sweet-
talking her but she couldn't secm to
stop looking at it, you know, because
by and by he got this uncontrollable
winch in his left eyelet. I couldn’t keep
from looking at it, either. I tried to look
at the doll, I tied to look at other
people, but I couldn't keep a strayed
face so I gave up. I had a laugh.

“Finally, he excuses himself to the
men's and comes back with the eye fixed
and then he turns on the old sugar-
daddy charm, like some older types can
do it? He warms up to the job with this
trite and true line, but the hotter he
tries, the father he gets from his goal.

"By now my chick is getting restless,
but I don't want to leave because I
don't want this guy to have the feel
to himself. So I send the waiter over to
invite them to have a brandy with us at
the bar, figuring they can't say no. They
join us there and I manage it the girls
sit together and him and me on each
site, but me next to Elnor. She's talking
funny, like those college girls — coettes?
But I just keep quiet, I'm listening to

what joey

did to the

competition
was a

nawful

shame

this guy giving my doll a line. First he
tells her about a best seller he’s reading.
“Very mechanical writing,’ he says, and
1 gleam the idea he's talking about that
Pulitzer prize winner, Robot-Pen War-
ren. Then he starts implanting he's rich.
To hear him, his house is a mansion —
it has so many rooms you have to have
a rote map in your mind to find your
way around.

“Soon the brandy is doing me good;
1 feel a warning glow — this guy is going
to make it with my date. 1 know he is
tying for sure when he calls the bar-
tender after a couple more rungs of
drinks and wants to roll the dice who
should pay — him or the house. I told
him it was my treat, but he looks at me
like I'm a homeless kid and waifs me
away, he says it’s just for sport. So the
bartender wins and the old geezer gives
him a sore-buck as if it was nothing.
Then he says it’s getting late, my date
lives out his way and Elnor lives near
me and tomorrow's a working day, why
don’t we split up and save time by cach
of us takes the other guy’s date home?
Elnor's now talking like herself, the
doll's now talking like a coette, and
when the old guy says this both girls
couldn't be happier. That rang the bell
—I was tinkled pink.

“You know what? This morning, when
1 got up and went home to shave for
work, I laughed all the way. Man, that
was the fun-est time I ever had.”

Joey Moscow: poet, word magician,
picaro and ladies’ man. When he was
fired I was genuinely sorry to see him
go, and not merely because it seemed
unfair to me. What happened was that
the president of the company decided
Joey was too much of a wiseguy and that
he had a negative, sneeringly-knowing
attitude toward organizational conform-
ism. Perhaps so, but when I think back
on Joey I can almost hear him saying,
“You know what? I think I was more
sinned against than cynic.”

PLAYBOY

70

BARGAIN (continued from page 40)

I was uncomfortable, and then it oc-
curred to me that I had never before
seen a sandbox in Europe — I was look-
ing at an oddity. The sand was damp;
the box was a simple affair, nailed to-
gether, and had a familiar, American
look to it.

"Wo ist dein Mut—" I began a
question, and then paused. From some-
where bchind the house came a sound
of hammering, rhythmical and slow.

It was not a sound I was used to hear-
ing in Europe; I was vaguely alarmed.
The children were watching me, their
mouths open — not afraid, but ready for
something unpleasant. I hurried away,
along the side of the house, and heard
their whispering behind me. I reached
the corner of the house, and turned it,
and there was Willy, on a ladder, ham-
mering at a plank which he was holding
up over a window. He looked down:
he had nails between his teeth. He
bobbed his head in greeting, and then
took the nails out of his mouth.

"I'm patching up this old window,"
he said.

"I see you are," I answered.

“The glass is busted out, and I
couldn't find any shutters to fit —" He
nodded, and said, “Just a minute now.”
He drove two more nails, and stepped
down. The window had a look I was
familiar with — the look of abandoned
houses whose windows have been board-
ed up against tramps and wandering
boys. Houses on the outskirts of town,
they have shade from rich antique tree:

"Г bet you made the sandbox too,
I said, and Willy began to look uncom-
fortable,

“Oh, that," he said, shrugging. “That
wasn't nothing. The supply sergeant
loaned me the tools and nails." He lifted
his hammer: it looked new.

‘Then the back door opened, and El-
frida came out, looking as women do
who have just washed their hair. Her
face was tanned — golden, in the faintly
dusty sunshine, and as I saw her clearly
for the first time, 1 perceived that she
had a fine, highbred look, as, let us say,
we would like Austrian countesses to
look. She was wearing a cotton dress,
light gray in color.

“Beautiful,” I murmured.

Willy, at my side, was restless, uneasy,
and may have been wondering if he had
gone too far in giving comfort to the
enemy. Elfrida paused on the steps,
frowning, and seemed to nod at me;
then she swept past Willy, and went up
to the window. She spread her feet a
little, and stamped them into the dust.
With hands on hips, she tilted her head
back, and stared at the blank place
where the window had been.

For perhaps twenty seconds she stood
so, and then she stepped rather deli-

cately — fastidiously, past us, back to the
door and through it, closing the door
quite softly. The baby was asleep, very
likely; a household had begun to func-
tion.

Willy was looking sheepish, not at all
the conqueror now. He hefted the ham-
mer, and I noticed that he had a good
way with it. “A feller wants to make
himself handy if he can,” he said.

Silently I nodded.

“She needs me,” he went on. “A
woman needs a man. Well, damnit, I
told you she didn't hate mel”

For quite a while we stood there,
Willy reluctant and ashamed, and I try-
ing to get a sense of things. I was once
again astonished; I could not keep up
with developments, and so I decided to
go back to my bottle. I got drunk that
afternoon, and stayed moderately drunk
for several days. I wanted away from
Willy, and I managed it. I did not even
see him for three days. When I came
to myself again, I was shaky, and startled
by things. The Russians had arrived at
the river, a whole regiment, so the
rumor went, and their presence mani-
fested itself as minor changes in our
view. Across the river, there was a
trench, perhaps a hundred yards back
from the bank; I could see the parapet,
a light tan slashing the green of the
fields. There were anti-tank guns with
black, slender barrels, trained on us,
one every two or three hundred yards.
Now and then a soldier appeared mo-
mentarily on the parapet—a clumsy
figure, lifting a pick or shovel. Some-
times a head appeared in silhouette
over the parapet, and several times I
saw horsemen cantering along behind
the trench; and perhaps these were
Cossack scouts.

The Russians kept out of sight most
of the time, and maintained two sen-
tries at the bridge. These were always
friendly boys carrying submachine guns;
it was impossible to talk to them. They
smiled, they made extravagant gestures,
their pidgin German was not like ours.

‘The pilgrims had vanished, like small
animals gone to ground. On our side of
the river, there were family caravans
constantly setting off for the west, and
we had a rumor that the international
boundary would soon be moving west.
ward also. Our life had changed, during
my drunkenness; we had new oddities,
and Willy and Elfrida composed a re-
markable one, for they had become fond
lovers. I first saw that fondness one
night when Willy enlisted my help to
move some U.S. Army canned goods to
the lady' house; which is to say, 1
helped him steal these things from our
company kitchen. We waited until the
cooks had gone to bed, and then in-
vaded the kitchen of the big house. We

hauled our plunder to Elfrida in a
wheelbarrow which Willy had borrowed
somewhere, and all this was a lark,
naturally.

We had to become quite solemn, how-
ever, when we entered the room where
Elfrida was waiting. There were two oil
Jamps on a table, and Elfrida was stand-
ing in their light; on the table was the
baby, naked, like a Cupid in oils of the
Cinquecento. He lay on a white cloth,
and beside him was a basin with water
in it, from which a light mist was as-
cending. Elfrida looked at us, observed
the nature of our burdens, and said, "I
am about to give the baby a bath. His
name is Heinrich, and he likes his bath
very much.” She smiled shyly, and
touched the tiny boy. She was sweating,
her temples glistened.

"The bath was a ceremony, auspiciously
begun and managed. Elfrida gently lifted
the little body, and immersed it in the
water; she held the head above the sur-
face with her left hand, while with her
right she accomplished the ritual ablu-
tions. The boys body had a golden
sheen after the water touched it; the
arms had currents of white down, and
the face held an expression of bliss. The
lips were slightly parted — they were not
smiling. The eyes were open, but were
not seeing; the baby’s world was, as it
were, printed upon them, and was no
more than the touch of warm water, of
the mother's cautious hands, of the
gentle air.

“He has good color," Elfrida said. "I
have always given him baths in the sun
— how do you say, sunbaths?"

“That's a fine-looking boy," Willy
said. His face was calm, discreet, and it
came to me that he could well judge of
baby boys. He was a man; he had fa-
thered sons in faraway Texas.

Elfrida raised her head, and smiled
at Willy. "It's nice that you should like
him," she said. “Schéner Heinrich!" She
bent quickly and touched the baby's
forehead with her lips; and then,
straightening up, she took the boy from
the water, and set about drying him, and
diapering him for bed. Her hands
moved comfortably with such work, and
Willy and I stood about helplessly. We
made a joke about our theft. We
laughed; and we understood that for a
time we did not greatly matter to the
scene we found ourselves in.

When the baby was put away in the
next room, Elfrida turned her attention
to us, and it was something heavy,
something resolute that came to us.
First she went up to Willy, and said,
“Thank you very much for bringing us
food.” Her voice caressed the sentiment,
making an endearment. Willy blushed.
“You're nice," she said, “sehr nett," and
reached up to touch him lightly with
her fingertips where not so long ago

(continued on page 89)

modern living By VINCENT T. TAJIRI

LIGHTS V
AGUDA
CAMERA

[сш]

BE

playboy’s guide to what's new and news-

worthy in movie cameras and equipment

Left: what's new In projectors and cameras far the 8mm movie buff. 1. Revere automatic-threading projector with zoom lens, $148. 2. Elite
Talkie recarder-projectar with mike, $400. 3. Keystone with built-in editor ond splicer, $200. 4. Bell & Howell Super Auto-Load with Filmovera
Zoom lens, $160. 5. Witinaver Cine-Twin, only combination camera and projector, $290. 6. Eumig Imperial with saund synchronizer for sepa-
rote tape recorder, $140. 7. Eumig Unilectric battery-driven camerc with electric eye, $130. 8. Argus Cinetronic tri-turret electric eye, $150.
9. Yashica tri-turret semi-automatic electric eye, can fade іп, fade aut, lap dissolve; with pistol grip, $130. 10. Kodak Zoom with electric eye,
$140. 11. Mansfield Holiday Il with built-in photoelectric meter, $60. 12. Balex with Pan Cinor Zoom lens hos built-in light meter, 3-lens
turret, con fade in, fade cut, $320. 13. Kodak Medallion Turret with magazine locd, $160. 14. Bell & Howell Turret Director with electric
eye, $200. 15. Bell & Howell Zoomatic Director features electric eye and optical zoom viewfinder, $200. 16. Konica Zoom is battery
powered, has built-in exposure meter, through-the-lens viewing and focusing; with hand grip and Cine-Fader for fade-ins and -cuts, $234.
17. Revere Power Zoom zooms by push-button, has electric eye, magazine load, $200. 18. Foirchild Cinephonic, only 8mm зош

оп- Віт comero, tri-turret, battery driven; with mike, $320. 19. Bolsey cigcrette pock-size comera, magozine lood, $100. Below: 1. Premier
titler and copy stand, $38. 2. Hollywood Juniar tripod, $25. 3. Radiant Optiglow Imperiol Colormaster screen, 40" x 40”, $43. 4. Dasco
folding light bor, $13. 5. Dasco 8mm carrying case, $5. 6. Bell & Howell 8mm Filmctian editor, $123. 7. Craig 16mm Projecto-Editor, $80.

HAPPILY, THE NEW WRINKLES іп the 8mm and 16mm movie field are in the cameras
and projectors — not in your forehead. All of which makes non-pro movie-making
more downright fun than ever before, whether you be living it up at Cap d'Antibes
with the lady of your life, taking footage of your new blue Jag purring down the
asphalt, or capturing on film a frantic session of party games in your pad. Pulling
a neat switcheroo om that wizened old adage, the good words today are: the eye
is quicker than the hand. The eye in this case happens to be electric and it spells
a quick and painless demise for the bygone days of (a) hauling out the exposure
meter, then (b) making your settings on the lens, and being forced to (c) get a
new setting each time the sun went behind a cloud or your subject stepped into

PLAYBOY

74

For the 16mm movie mogul: 1. Wollensak slim silent projector, $200. 2. Bell & Howell camera with Angenieux Zoom lens, through-the-lens
viewfinder, $580. 3. Bell & Howell Filmosound Optical Sound Projector with Filmovara Zoom lens, $538. 4. Revere sound projector, $325.
5. Cine-Kodok tri-turret adapts for fades and dissolves, with Cine Ektar lenses shown, $571. 6. Cine-Kodak Special Il Duo-turret for fodes,
dissolves, mask shots, double and multiple exposures, montages, animations, with Cine Ektar lenses shown, $1580. 7. Bell & Howell with
electric eye, $330. B. Keystone Executive magazine load, two-turret, shown with telephoto lens, $274. 9. Bolex Rex with automatic
threading, tri-turret mount, con lop dissolve, with Pan Cinor Zoom lens, $786. 10. Wollensak magazine load, tri-turret lenses, $288. 11. Eumig
tri-turret with corresponding telescopic viewfinders, built-in automatic exposure meter, $500. 12. Revere tri-turret with matched viewfinders,
magazine load, $352. 13. Pathé Webo M, tri-turret, has continuous reflex viewing ond variable shutter for fades, lap-dissolves, $770.

the shade. The gridded-glass, window-like affair that is the electric eye does it all
for you, with nary a miss, and leaves you free to line up your subjects and get
them moving the way you want.

Here's how it all works: actuated by light entering the photocell, the eye converts
that light into electrical energy. This energy triggers the lens diaphragm. Performing
a function similar to that of the iris of the eye, the diaphragm controls the amount
of light passing through the lens system — guaranteeing the perfect exposure. The
magic eye is here to stay and it's available in automatic and semi-automatic models.
On the automatics, the eye takes over in a simple aim-and-shoot manner; you lend
a hand on the semi-automatics by manually matching a light-measuring needle to

PLAYBOY

76

a pointer representing the ASA rating
of the film being used.

Competition, healthier than ever, has
inspired a flood of elecuiceye models,
mostly 8mm but some 16mm, and for-
cign camera firms have bucked stiff
import duties to join the fray. Ad-
vances in optics and technology — in
addition to the eye innovation — have
inspired scores of excellent simplified
cameras, including several models
equipped with effective zoom lenses.

The arrival of the electric eye and
the zoom lens are blessings to camera
fans, but the most headline-making
scene in the history of amateur movie-
making is set for this month. It's the
debut of the Fairchild Cinephonic, the
fist 8mm sound-on-flm camera for
hobbyists.

‘This battery-operated Fairchild re-
cords lipsync sound through a mike
which plugs directly into the camera
at the time of shooting. A transistorized
amplifier is right in the camera; a
headset permits volume adjustments as
you shootand-record your own epic
production. It takes a special 50-foot
spool of double-8 color film (a flip-over
spool providing 100 feet of shooting
film, twice as much as the 8mm stand-
ard). Plans call for a $240 price with
the standard £/1.8 lens. About $40 apiece
will bring wide-angle and telephoto
lenses to fill out the triturret. A com-
panion sound projector will also be
available.

Sound-on-film cameras at prices the
amateur can easily afford are the biggest.
development the industry can boast of
since 1986 when 8mm cameras and. pro-
jectors were first introduced. However,
if you're not ready for sound movies as
yet, the market is chock-full of gemlike
cameras, each boasting their own spe-
cial features.

Prior to bouncing into your local
camera emporium, let's go over some of
the decisions which you'll eventually
have to make. Your first choice will have
to be between 8mm and 16mm flm
sizes. To be brief, the 8 is strictly an
amateur size, while the 16, sweet in
price and performance, is accepted for
commercial work. Prices for 8mm cam-
eras start at $40 and go up tenfold for
top models; 16s begin at around $125
and from that point on you become
aware of the high cost of reliving.

The 16mm film is four times as large
as 8; it projects more sharply, with less
fuzziness at long distances, than does
the 8mm frame. Keep this in mind when
considering your zeal for showing movies
other than those you take. Film libraries
bulge with gems for sale or rental. You
can pour over vintage reels of Chaplin,
W. C. Fields and Harold Lloyd in mad
revolt, or such not-so-whiskered Holly-
wood fare as On the Waterfront, Death
of a Salesman, etc; sample Rose Bowl

games of the past, or explore the world
of avantgarde experimentation dealt
with by Arthur Knight elsewhere in
this issue. The subjects available in
8mm are numerous, but the l6mm cata-
log tops them. If you prefer De Sica’s
direction interspersed with your own,
invest in 16mm all the way.

While you're pondering the 8mm
versus 16mm matter, face the spool or
magazineload alternatives, too. On the
magazine side, for an added outlay, you
get the advantage of purchasing one
unit that contains film, feed and takeup
spools and a film gate — all in a tightly
sealed magazine. You forget about hand-
threading. You drop the magazine into
the film chamber and that’s it. Another
plus for the magazine is that it permits
the instant change of film — say from
daylight type to indoor type—as the
occasion demands — without your hay-
ing to wait until you shoot an entire
roll of film. Bear in mind that in 16mm
size—for which there are more maga-
zine models available—the cameras
accommodate just 50-foot magazines, as
opposed to the 100 feet of film that's
standard on 16mm spool-loads (the 8mm
camera film capacity — magazine or spool
—is 50 feet). Also, you should be aware
that magazines have been known to
jam without the user's knowing it, mak-
ing your prize scenes just matters of
memory.

Changing film in a spool-load model
means marching into near-darkness. But
we think this inconvenience is more
than compensated for by the sharper,
steadier results you get with spool-loads.
It boils down to this: for case and sim-
plicity, get a magazine-load model; for
more professional results, choose the
spool-load variety.

We heartily endorse the new battery-
operated cameras. The Austrian import,
Eumig. should be toasted for this &mm
innovation. The battery-driven motor
assures you that shooting won't grind to
a halt before you want it to. It’s a par-
ticular prize for those who can't seem
to remember to hand-wind motors after
each sequence. However, hand-wound
spring-drive motors are — as ever — the
most popular. One thing to check while
you're shopping is the comparative run-
ning time per full wind you get on the
cameras you like. If you decide on the
battery-operated units, you should try
out the Konica or Rexer, Japanese prod-
ucts, or two American models: the new
Fairchild noted earlier or the Wittnauer
Cine-Twin.

Then, you should observe the differ-
ences among lens equipment The
variances here are comparable to those
you'll find among bar bourbons. Cam-
eras are designed for single-lens use or
in turret models. The latest trend is
toward built-in zooms.

For critical work, the best lenses are

those developed from optical designs
making as few compromises as possible.
‘The most common concessions to per-
fection are found in fixed-focus lenses,
which are made to keep images within
tolerable sharpness over an area gener-
ally extending from six feet to infinity.
The inexpensive zooms and the low-
priced converter-type turret lenses are
the fixed-focus sort. If you're not a stick-
ler for extreme sharpness, and will ac-
cept average quality, they're for you. If
you seek the optimum, select а tri-turret
model with three prime lenses, or go
to a zoom with a reflex system permit-
ting viewing and focusing through the
shooting lens (solying the parallax prob-
lem inherent in separate viewfinders).

Another decision you'll have to reach
concerns fps speeds. Most lómm cam-
eras provide more than one frames-per-
second speed. as do the high-priced 8mm
models. The less expensive automatic
8s generally operate only at 16 fps or
18 fps, the latter being the new industry
standard for 8mm silent and sound
shooting. For most lenspointers, the
standard silent speed is all that's ever
needed. However, if you plan to add
sound to your film at a later date, re-
member that the accepted 16mm sound
speed is 24 fps, the accepted silent speed,
16. If you dig analyzing football plays,
your golf swing or the graceful arch of
a high diver, you'll want fps speeds of
48 or 64 to get the best slowed action.
For satirizing or reliving the jerky move-
ments of the Keystone Cops era, you
should have fps speeds of 8 or 12.

For those who want a compact movie
rig, the unique Wittnauer Cine-Twin —
a combination 8mm camera-projector —
is worth testing, though the battery-
operated-motor camera itself is on the
hefty side and not as easy to handle as
many 8mm models. Its turret mounts
four lenses; the fourth is the projection
lens. When used with a companion unit
which houses reel arms and an electric
motor driven by house current, it pro-
jects the movies you shoot. And thanks
to a clever footage indicator, you can
rewind the spool of film you're exposing,
slip it from the camera at any time—
when you want to use it as a projector,
for example — and replace it later at the
exact spot. If you decide on another
camera, you'll want to go out and get a
projector as well, natch.

Our advice; devote as much time and
thought to your choice of projector —
8mm or 16mm — as you did to the cam-
era, Test (and test you should) a group
of projectors. First, you'll want one that
flashes a bright picture even in a well-
lighted room. Also, you'll want accept-
ably bright pictures at varying projector-
toscreen distances. Don't demand
brightness at drive-in theatre distances,

(concluded on page 88)

a guide to getting the other guy’s girl

A YOUNG MAN IN QUEST OF A WORKING ARRANGEMENT with a girl is able to find,
if he is square enough to look for it, a substantial body of literature advising
him how to gain his end. Daily columns in newspapers, and indeed entire
books, are eager to instruct him in such matters as making a good first im-
pression, proper deportment on dates, how to dress, when to send flowers,
how to deal with parents, the good-night kiss, and whatnot.

All of this counsel, in addition to being Pollyanna stuff for kiddies, is
based on a false assumption. It assumes that your primary task is to win the
affections of the young lady. This is not the case. If the girl is worth having,
and unless you are thinking of raiding the local junior high, it is very nearly
a certainty that the territory you have your eye on has already been staked
out. Your primary task is to dislodge the guy who is in there ahcad of you.
Only then do you start to work on the girl.

The advice books and colurans have nothing to say about this problem.
We propose to rectify this omission. Our suggestions may appear, to the
callow or falsely idealistic reader, cynical; actually they are merely realistic,
an analysis of the techniques intuitively employed by the men who operate
successfully. If you are made uneasy by the calculated nature of these ma-
neuvers, it is helpful to reassure yourself with the old convenient adage
about how much is fair in love and war, and with the even more ancient
onc about what it is that possesses no conscience. These two spiritual sup-
ports will see you through the stickiest times in your roundabout pursuit
of the girl.

The following techniques are analyzed in terms of effective strategy:

I, The Good Friend Technique. This is basic, though not absolutely
essential. You will try to becorne your opponent's Good Friend or, if possible,
his Best Friend. The success of this tactic will depend in large measure on
your manifesting an absolute disinterest in the girl — the first good reason
why you should not follow the routine advice about belaboring her with a
thousand and one little attentions. Nor should you employ the sophomoric
Confidential Report gambit: "Don't let George know I told you, Lucille,
but he's my best friend, the salt of the earth, and I wish you'd stop leading
him on and teasing him the way you've been doing. Why, you've got the
poor guy thinking you're some kind of (chuckle) pathological virgin who
hates men . . .” While this may work with 2 few mahogany-headed girls who
will hate George for being a blabbermouth and who will feel compelled to
prove their sexual healthiness to you, it is too cloddish and transparent 2
trick to fool the above-average girl—and it is the above-average girl, we
assume, in whom you are interested. No, the Thousand Little Attentions
and Confidential Report ploys are too much in the (continued on page 80)

salire Ву T. К. BROWN IH

77

PLAYBOY

78

OSCAR (continued from page 36)

But what is one to say when the names
of Norma Shearer, Clark Gable, Mary
Pickford, Warner Baxter, Joan Craw-
ford, Gary Cooper. Loretta Young, Bing
Crosby or Jennifer Jones appear in the
same category? One answer, perhaps,
may be found in subject matter. Clearly
it would be impious not to vote for Miss
Jones in The Song of Bernadette, or for
Mr. Crosby in Going My Way, just as it
would be un-American to ignore Mr.
Cooper as the hero of Sergeant York
and the lawman of High Noon. The
rarity of comedy and the superb direc-
torwriter team of Frank Capra and
the late Robert Riskin probably account
for the inclusion of Clark Gable (It
Happened One Night). Nothing short
of pure miracle, or a graceful compli-
ment to popularity, can account for the
others.

Sometimes it appears that particular
Awards are cumulative. Bette Davis’
first Award, for Dangerous (her second
was for Jezebel), seemed obvious apology
for having ignored her stunning per-
formance in Of Human Bondage, just
as Ingrid Bergman's second Award, for
Anastasia (her first having been for Gas-
light), can only be interpreted as a
shamefaced token from a community
that had piously immolated her for pub-
licly living as she damned well pleased,
a life most of its denizens had tried to
live in clammy secret.

If the town was capable of giving
Luise Rainer two Awards in succession
(The Great Ziegfeld in 1987 and The
Good Earth in 1938) and then forgetting
her altogether, it is nevertheless surpris-
ingly responsive to warm-hearted new
talent, or to talent from other media
appearing on the screen for the first
time. When it is remembered that the
actors themselves nominate actor-candi-
dates, and that an Oscar is generally
considered to be the cordon bleu of a
certified career, the Awards to Shirley
Booth (Come Back, Little Sheba), Au-
drey Hepburn (Roman Holiday), Anna
Magnani (The Rose Tattoo), Ernest
Borgnine (Marty) and Joanne Wood-
ward (The Three Faces of Eve), as well
as a dozen similar Awards voted to sup-
porting actors and actresses, reveal an
unsuspected streak of generosity in a
profession whose individual members
are not lacking in egocentricity.

Having curtsied to generosity, and
bowed low to deserved Awards voted to
talented artists, one is compelled to take
another look, this time at the greatest
actress the American cinema has ever
known, and an actor who is also the
only genius it has produced: Greta
Garbo and Charles Chaplin. It has been
the judgment of their peers, over a

period of thirty-two years, that neither
of them has achieved sufficient mastery
of the medium to merit its highest
accolade.

During the years that Mary Pickford,
Norma Shearer, Loretta Young, Joan
Crawford, Clara Bow and Jean Harlow
reigned over the American screen, Greta
Garbo appeared in Flesh and the Devil,
Susan Lennox, Grand Hotel, As You De-
sire Me, Queen Christina, The Painted
Veil, Anna Karenina, Camille and
Ninotchka. And in the first season of
the Awards, when Wings and The Way
of All Flesh and Seventh Heaven and
Underworld were being decked with
laurel, the Best Film of the Year, and
perhaps of several decades, was made
by Charles Chaplin. He called it The
Circus.

The original Board of Governors of
the Academy, perhaps anticipating many
awkward omissions, created the cate-
gory of “Special Award,” which was
changed in 1950 to “Honorary Award.”
A Special, or Honorary Award, unlike the
Oscars, may be conferred by the Board
of Governors itself without recourse to
Academy membership vote. The first
Special Award coincided with the first
Academy presentations ceremony. It
went to Charles Chaplin “For versatil-
ity and genius in writing, acting,
recting, and producing The Circus.”
While the Academys roster of Best
Films turns obsolescent, Chaplin's un-
Oscared Little Tramp, in all his various
guises, still plays to full houses and a
third generation of enchanted movie-

ers.

Since 1928, something over eighty
Special, or Honorary Awards, have been
conferred. Chaplin got the first, and
Greta Garbo, in 1955, the sixty-seventh.
Among holders of the Special Award
are, curiously enough, the March of
Time, the Museum of Modern Art Film
Library, the Motion Picture Relief
Fund, the British Ministry of Informa-
tion, the Society of Motion Picture and
Television Engineers, the Technicolor
Company, RCA Manufacturing Com-
pany, Bell & Howell, Bausch and Lomb
Optical Company, Metro-Goldwyn-
Mayer and Twentieth Century-Fox Film
Corp., not to mention Shirley Temple,
Judy Garland, Deanna Durbin, Mickey
Rooney, Margaret O'Brien, Claud Jar-
man, Jr., Peggy Ann Garner and Bobby
Driscoll. Other recipients, and hence
co-equals with Garbo and Chaplin,
range from Bob Hope (three times)
through Noel Coward and George K.
Spoor to Gilbert (Bronco Bill) Ander-
son and Benjamin Bertram Kahane,
among whose current titles may be
found those of Vice President of Colum-
bia Pictures, Inc., Vice President of the
Motion Picture Producers Association

of America, and — of all things — Presi-
dent of the Academy of Motion Picture
Arts and Sciences.

Although the air these days is filled
with lamentations for what is called a
national moral crisis, one thing can be
said of the Academy that may not be
applied to the major film studios (vide
distribution, overhead), or to TV (vide
quiz shows), or to radio (vide payola),
or to the theatre (vide scalpers), or to
nightclubs (vide the boys), or to Madi-
son Avenue (vide fake ads), or to any
other organization in the entertainment
world: it keeps an honest set of books,
conducts an honest vote, and honestly
doesn't know who's won an Award un-
til it's announced on the air.

The idea is so refreshing it requires
explanation. The Academy, at present,
embraces thirteen branches of the vari-
ous arts and crafts represented in the
creation and production of motion pic-
tures. A candidate for membership must
be sponsored by at least two members
of the branch he wishes to join. If the
branch and its Executive Committee find
him a man of quality, his name is sub-
mitted to the Board of Governors, who
have the power of life and death over
all, since membership, as they carefully
point out, “is limited to those who have
achieved distinction in the arts and
sciences of the motion picture indus-
try.” Some 2800 persons have achieved
it, and presently comprise the Acad-
emy's roster of electors.

‘As Award season approaches, a check
list of the previous year's work is sent
out to the Academy membership. Ballot-
ing for nomination — five in each cate-
gory — is restricted in each category to
members of the Academy branch con-
cerned. Thus actors nominate actors,
and so on down the line, or up it, as
directors and sometimes even writers
occasionally assert. The entire Academy
membership then votes, again by secret
ballot, to determine the final winners.

Balloting is conducted by mail, with
the same precautions for secrecy that
characterize — or should, at least — bal-
loting for public office. The ballots are
mailed by the voter directly to the Los
Angeles accounting offices of Price,
‘Waterhouse & Company. There Mr. Wil-
liam Miller, CPA and a partner in the
firm, goes to work with a staff of three
GPAs. They are isolated in a special office
of the firm behind locked doors, and the
counting begins. At the end of each day's
work the ballots and all papers relating
to them are sealed and placed in the
firm's vault. Contents of the wastebaskets
are burned,

A list of winners is made in duplicate.
One set remains on Mr. Miller's person
until announced over the air. The other
is sealed and placed in the vault, in case

(continued on page 86)

O MISTRESS HIS (continued from page 77)

nature of frontal attacks, and will only
arouse suspicions in the hearts of both
girl and crony. Such suspicions must be
avoided.

If they are, the Good Friend Tech-
nique is an invaluable implement for
scouting the terrain and determining
your best point of attack. By closely ob-
serving your adversary, his likes and dis-
likes, his typical behavior, his attitude
toward the girl, you can draw useful
inferences regarding her tastes and
weaknesses.

II. Areas of Dissatisfaction. Even more
important, you will learn of her Areas
of Dissatisfaction. Very probably your
Good Friend will provide you with di-
rect information. It will pay you to
invest a good deal of time and liquor
in the hope of eliciting confidences, for
you may be rewarded with some such
gem as this over a fifth martini:

“Lucille is a real swinger — the most.
But damnit, ole buddy-buddy, she really
is queer in some ways. Last night I had
her up to hear some real gone Sonny
Rollins records. D'you think she dug
that? She did not. Asked me did I have
any Mozart quartets, quintets. And what
else does she dig? John Donne's devo-
tions, for God's sake.”

The information you have received is
priceless. Your Good Friend is guilty of
leaving a large Area of Dissatisfaction,
and you are the one who is going to fill
it. Lucille is obviously a girl of serious
esthetic interests. A little easy research
will make you into a man who can quote
Donne's devotions — and not just the
shopworn "No man is an islande" rou-
tine — with fervor and true understand-
ing; and Mozart themes are easy to
memorize. Let her overhear you whis-
tling one quietly to yourself and you
are already in the finals. Lucille is going
to want to know a lot more about you.

Of course, your Good Friend's confi-
dences may reveal a very different pic-
ture: he digs Mozart and Donne, she
goes for Mantovani and baseball. This
poses no problem for you. A gift of
the right record, a well-documented dis-
quisition on the latest World Series, and
you are in.

This, then, is the most efficacious
method of dislodging an impacted com-
petitor: befriend him; learn his weak-
nesses; exploit them.

ІП. The Length-of-Tenure Problem.
If, as sometimes happens, he does not
appear to have any weaknesses, it is by
no means unwise to start looking
around, right then and there, for an-
other girl. After all, there is no harm in
being realistic, and the world is full of
girls, thank goodness. But perhaps his

2

girl is the only one who will do. In that
case it is important to ascertain whether
his tenure in the girl's affections has
been of long or short duration. Contrary
to what the professional advisors may
tell you, your chances are better if he
has been around for quite a while. The
girl is probably not altogether contented
with what he has to offer; she may well
be receptive to a change of scenery in
her love life. Your task is that of chan-
neling her interest in your direction.
Here the proper procedure is to empha-
size those aspects of your personality
that contrast with your adversary's. A
difference of age will be of advantage.
If he is a placid type, you will manifest
an agreeable verve and gaiety; if he is
the vigorous outdoor sportsman, you
will ply her with stimulating indoor
amusements (theatre, jam sessions, secret
and wonderful restaurants); whatever
his opinions are, you will offer a refresh-
ingly different view.

On the other hand, in the event that
he has been in possession for only a
short time, your best bet is to assume
that she is still intrigued by what he has
to offer, and your proper technique is
to outdo him in his own field. 1f he is
placid, you will smoke a pipe and be
even more serene —and you will reveal
depths of insight and thoughtfulness
that make his placidity appear bovine;
if he is the outdoor type, a couple of
strenuous hikes in the country, during
which you refer modestly to your colle-
giate prowess in lacrosse or water polo,
should serve to convince her that you
are his equal in this field. Of course, you
do not slavishly mimic his strong points:
you improve on them, showing yourself
as superior where he is only so-so.

IV. Behind-the-Scenes Play. This is
one of the strongest methods of drawing
her attention to your superiority over
him. It is quite likely that he is not
above the human frailty of thinking
rather well of himself, In such a case
you should suggest to him that his girl
appreciates a man who has a healthy
awareness of his own worth. At the same
time, you inject into her the thought
that he is perhaps a rather boastful fel-
low; whereas you, by implication, are
the soul of modesty. Sooner or later this
spadework will pay off. The time will
come, for example, when he is due for
a raise. This is when you move in. In-
timate to the girl that you have been
able to influence the powers in his be-
half but that you would prefer— be-
cause of your innate modesty — not to
have him know of your aid. Thus you
create the impression that you are an
important guy and that his raise is due

mainly to your efforts. When, eventu-
ally, the raise does come through and he
gleefully boasts the fact, the girl will
inevitably perceive what a weak and
self-important slob he is, and will ad-
mire you, both for your modesty and
your puissance. Such admiration can
readily be translated into a more prac-
tical and rewarding emotion.

V. The Indirect Frame. Once you
are on reasonably informal terms with
the girl, but before you have shown any
overt designs on her, you may be in a
position to allow the resident obstacle
to hang himself, with only a slight nudge
from you. A moderate form of the ma-
neuver is to encourage him to continue
when you find him making a bad im-
pression. Suppose it is your good luck
that he adheres to some extreme point
of view. The chances are very good that
the more he has to say in defense of his
position, the worse impression he will
create, Skillfully spur him on to more
vehement pronouncements. Soon he has
shown himself to be a complete idiot
or fanatic. Or suppose he has some man-
nerism or habit that irritates the girl —
smokes cheap smelly cigars, for instance,
or talks with his mouth full, or likes to
play practical jokes. With a little in-
genuity you can induce him to become
much more irritating.

A more ambitious action is to set up
a situation in which he will disgrace
himself. for example, a double date for
which, inexplicably, your partner fails
to appear. The three of you embark,
with you as the third wheel. In the
course of the evening you see to it that
his glass is always full, while yours and
the girl's remain relatively empty. (This
is not difficult if you have properly in-
structed, and rewarded, the waiter. And
let it be noted that this is another case
in which the unsubtle boob will lose his
way, in his naive assumption that the
most efficacious technique is to get the
girl drunk. This is folly: aistewed to-
mato is good for a merely ephemeral
success, at the very best. Much more
substantial and lasting is the procedure
we are suggesting.) It will not be very
long before your opponent is red of eye
and thick of tongue, while you are still
your scintillating self. It may very well
happen that you and the girl then have
the job of getting him home and to bed;
thereafter, the field is wide open for
you to take the girl out and show her
what a night on the town is really like.

VI. The Inferential Shafting. During
such a night, with your enemy at a sig-
nificant disadvantage, you will find op-
portunity to execute the Phony Concern
Gambit, or Inferential Shafting. It goes
like this:

You: George sure is a swell guy.

She: The best.

You: And that's why I hate to see him
doing this to himself.

She: Doing what to himself?

You: He used to be —L mean, he still
of course — well, it’s a damned shame.
She: Doing what to himself?

Well, the he’s hitting the

: Yes, 1
You: Of cow
him, what with the mess he's got h
to.
She: Oh? What mess?
From here on out you play it by ear.
Maybe you can ¢ y with, “Well,
that girl he got into trouble"; maybe
something like, "Well, that horrible boo-
boo he pulled at the office" would be
safer. In any event, you have implanted
two useful ideas in her mind: 1) you
e altruistically concerned for his wel-
fare; 2) he is going to hell. From now
on she will regard him with a more
watchful and critical eye; she will notice
lile things about his appearance and
behavior that she had formerly over
looked. She will want to talk them over
with you. This will give you a chance
to elaborate on his shortcomings and
draw her attention to his physical d.
terioration: his baggy eyes, his recedi
hair, his incipient pot.
VIL. The Inverse Compliment, It will

what you mean.
you can't really blame
пеН

also be an ideal time to apply the tech-
nique of the Inverse Compliment. This
consists in appearing to say something
in his favor while in effect chopping him
down. "Anyway, he doesnt have those
callgirls up as often as he used to’
good one if you get away with it
“I was worried about those reefer jags
of his, but he had the good sense to
stop” is in the same class. Probably you
will do better to stick to less drastic
compliments.

“You've got to say this for old George,”
you might remark. "He still shows some
old spirit —like that flare-up of
n the office the other da:
up?”

“Oh, it was a discussion of policy aud.

George, brave chap, was a of
You sure have to admire him for
ing the nerve to call the boss a

ned fool right to his face.
"Did he do that?”
“Isn't that great? In front of the
irman of the Board, too. That's what
ment
and he isn't afraid to speak up, even if
he isn't right one hundred percent of
the time.”

Notice how, in a few wholly com-
mendatory statements, you have man-
aged to leave the girl with the impres-
сотне loses his temper, George

"

[e
I like about him — he has tempe

‘ously tactless, George is oft

wrong. As incidents such as this accumu-
late, and as she catalogs in her mind the
ence of George's progressive de-
dine, your common solicitude for George
will mutate into a more intimate rela-
tionship. Especially if you can make that
hint about the callgirls sti

VIN. The Redefinition Principle. TI
is another method of handling the same
1. It differs from the above in
being almost its exact converse. Instead
of seeming to compliment your enemy
on his strong points, you redefine them
so that they are revealed as weak points.
According to this technique, and sup-
posing that the girl was a bi N
grasping the implications of your Inverse
Compliments, the above colloquy might
continue as follows:

She: You're right, George certainly
has spirit, temperament. 1 go for that.

You: Absolutely. And yet there was
something disturbing to me about that
flare-up of his. Temperament, sure —
great! But I found myself wondering
whether it wasn't simply that he has
never outgrown the infantile tantrum
stage. You know, kicking and screaming
when you can’t have your way-

She: Oh, I don't think it was that sort
of thing at all.

You: You're probably right. Yes, of
course you are, It’

slow

much more mature

NEL.

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PLAYBOY

thing, an adult reaction to a frustration. = =
= But the sad. part of it is, he docsn't do ANDY CASK

anything SER to remove the frustra BRANDY CASK
tion — he goes off in a neurotic outburst
of hostility toward the father figure and
insults the boss.

This is a fine application of the Re
definition Principle: you have translated
the honorific “temperament” into “in-
тше” and " The girl is
going to begin wondering whether she
has been giving fancy names to qualities
of George's that deserve a much more
lowly status.

Obviously, in all of these techniques
you must adapt. yourself to the prevail-
ing realities, foremost among which is
the nature of the girl herself. In this
example, for instance, if she is an in-
curable romantic, you will gain nothing
by suggesting that George is neurotic
Rather. you must produce evidence that
George is disgustingly wholesome and
well adjusted, and th
You , tell the office story not
about him, but about yourself.

ncurotic

This handsome white oak brass-
hooped Brandy Cask will really add
class to your drinking. Paraffin lined
to preserve the taste of your finest
liquid refreshments, with an authen-
tic wooden spigot and personalized
brass name plate. It holds a half
gallon. Your complete satisfaction is

t you are neurotic.

night, the

IX. The Invidious Comparison. This guaranteed. Send only $12.50 along
is a cardinal principle; indeed, it per with name to be engraved on brass
meates and gives form to all the others. plate t
Your whole endeavor, of course, is to
make him look bad and you, by com: Bar Boutique
parison, look good: very nearly all of Dept, N9 = Box #3376
the proposed stratagems have this end in Merchandise Mart * Chicago 54, Ill

view. The Invidious Comparison is not
so much a specific device as a guiding
postulate. Consequently, particular ex
amples of this basic principle would
largely reiterate Ere UE THE PERFECT MAP
in this treatise. for the sports car
One device, however, deserves special
mention in this context, being an espe
cially subtle and ellective application of
the concept: the More Acute Perception
Ploy. It is not difficult to convince a girl

that her deepest nature is not appreci- | $ a
ated. Tell her, ^I don't know you very a
well yet, but it seems to me —of course, | [€
I may be way out of line to be saying | |} €
1his— but I think you have a very sensi- Pi
tive and secret part of you in which you
keep your unhappiness hidden," and the
girl is unlikely to recognize this as the 5
sovereign corn that it is. She is going to
ч admit that it is true. She is also going Auto-Mapic does away with
Е to rellect that it was he who was blind folding and unfolding bulky
TE HULI | to this, and you who saw. OS
H i X. The "Square" Tag. Corollary to (opens HS bros Serio
Ы this is the technique of branding your Вана
mE T competitor as a square. Jt is very simple: leerer

whatever he likes is square. All you

Hr

folder, 6/4"x12Y. Order the

я have to do is say so with enough author-

T

Eastern U.S. or the Western

ity and it becomes so. He likes good

i

U.S. at $10 each ppd. Both $20.
Send check or money order to:

cle BHS

n fun? That is obviously squa!

0 л z OA likes modern jazz and Saarinen archi
tecture and Japanese food? Point out
by 2 2 | i Ps A
how many phonies are saying the sume | ЕЧ F

If, by chance, he is a devout beatnik Box #3376 Merchandise Mart
and digs Zen — my God, how squ: Chicago БА; Minos

e can

you get? The beatniks are the worst
s ol all: what could be more un
nd show less insight than to sup-
pose that the beat pose is anything more
than a self-defeating fraud?

XI. Engaging the Protective Instinct
This tactic comes into play after you
have achieved a degree of intimacy with
the girl. It consists of enhancing her in
terest in you by appearing to need her
help. For example, you can let it tran
spire that you are soured on all woman-
kind because of the cruel treatment you
received at the hands of a heartless hoy-
de 1 Houston. This will be a chal
lenge to her and she will set out to prove
that women are not so bad after all. Or
you can make it appear that, because ol
terrible inner torment, you are
slowly but surely destroying yourself
Sh П soon realize that what you need
is the loving solicitude of a Good Wom-
d will bestow therapeutic atten.
tions on you.

Helplessness in domestic matters is an.
almost infallible method, since it trig.
the Nesting Instinct. Let her find
your apartment, baffled by the
arrange your fur

gratefully welcome her assist
let her spend an hour shoving
sofas around and rehanging pictures. It
quite likely that you will end up joint
ly occupying one of the pieces of furni
ture that she has so tastefully disposed.

Хи. The Unwitting Cooperation.
‘There are stratagems in which your foc
п your
subversive plans. The tactic is to im-
plant in his mind ideas that you wish
him, in turn, to implant in hers, With
some girls, the Great Lover build-up
bear dividends, Spend an ew
regaling him with tales of your amorous
exploits (real or imagined),
almost certain to recite them as anec
dotes to his girl. She will draw a con
dusion he had not forese the guy
is th sful, he must really have
something to offer; Га like to find out

some

will actually cooperate with you

suc

In the same way, your unwitting vic
tim can be used to pass on other inlor-
mation that you wish the girl to receive:
that you are а woman-hater, that you
are destroying yourself, that you are an
expert in this field or that. He will be
so entranced with his own entertain-
ment value that he will fail to. notice
how he is cutting his own throat.

XIN. The Jealousy Plo
application of the Unwitting Coopera
tion tactic, which differs from the others
in beiug most advisable when you have
not succeeded in becoming a Good
end: in other words, when you do not
lose anything by incurring his cnn
Ihe procedure is to have some th
party te to him that you are

This is an

ing time with his girl behind his back.
He will inevitably reproach the girl
with this perfidious liaison, thus putting
the idea in her mind. In all likelihood
he will manifest jealousy, a state in
which no man is at his best. He will
become unr ; he will affront the
girl by refusing to believe her denials,
and in other ways will act in a manner
that puts him in a poor light. Quarrels
1 ensue, hastening her disaffection
with him, and his exit. If you have man-
aged the previous stages of your
paign with dexterity, these efforts on his
part may very well be the impetus that
pushes him out of the picture as she
becomes prone to you.

XIV. The Ultimate Finesse. It will
be noted that the jealousy ruse does not
at all dep

asoni

ad on the Good Friend tech-
nique for its success. 1t is qu
to rout an adversary without ever hav-
ing met him, merely on the basis of
careful research and deployment, And
there is one device that is more potent
than all the others put together. With
it at your disposal you need hardly

е possible

worry about how to proceed; you can
forget about the thirteen categories
above. Its effects swift and long-last-

ing; it requires no particular skill; and
it is very simple indeed:
Have more money.

TAX VOBISCUM

(continued from page 62)
office or a hospital. You can also deduct
travel expenses for a wip that has been
prescribed by a doctor for your health.
IE you go to the Caribbean for sun on
his advice, your travel expenses are de-
ductible. If a doctor prescribes exercise,
rubdowns and the like for your health,
fees paid to a town club where these
are obtained can be treated as medical
expenses.

"These savings may seem piddling, but
they can add up to enough to put your
net taxable inc n a lower bracket.
Casualty- and theft-loss deductions. are
often overlooked, since these deductions
don't always involve specific outlays.
asically, a casualty loss is one that
ises from the action of natural physi-
cal forces or from some sudden, unex-
pected cause, such as fire, storm or acci-
dent. One of the most common accident
losses involves automobiles. If you're
covered by insurance, the portion of los
not reimbursed is deductible. For i
stance, if vou suffered an automobile
collision and damage amounted to $125
for which your insurance reimburs
ment was 575 (due to a $50 deductible
provision in the policy), vou may deduct
the out-of-pocket loss of $50. If you were
wearing an expensive watch at the time
of the accident which was rendered. use-
less, the value of the watch immediately

"

“Youre a daddy-o."

83

PLAYBOY

84

Sportsman

EA

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is about his personal grooming.
In business or pleasure, he knows
dandruff may hinder chances of
success, Can't say DANDRICIDE has
increased his personality and
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most men gain from rinsing their
hair with DANDRICIDE has played
an important part. Best of all, you
don't have to be a ladies’ man to
use DANDRICIDE—it's ideal for the
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before the accident can also be deducted.
You must deduct the loss in the year in
which the ident occurs, but there's
no need to repair the damage in order
to take the loss.

Membership fees in professional,
trade and business asso ions related
to your employment can also be de-

ducted. Union members can deduct
their union dues and as: ents. And
since the Treasury realizes that we live

in a constantly changing world and
that it's important to keep pace with
changes, it will let you deduct the cost
of any university or professional course
taken to maintain or improve the skills
required by your job. But you won't be
allowed a deduction for any course you
take to obtain a new or better position.
In addition to tuition costs, you may de-
duct travel to and from a school away
from home and also living expenses
(food and lodging) while attending the
school. Business literature, supplies,
books and all other items required by
your job are deductible.

Alimony payments are fully deducti-
ble, the tax being borne by the recipient
of your postmarital munificence. But to
be Jawfully deductible, you must be di-
vorced or legally separated under a
court order or decree, your obligation
to pay alimony must arise under a court
order or written agreement with your
former wile, and the payments must be
either periodic, say, monthly, until such
time as she remarries or dies, or made in
installments provided the payments are
for a period in excess of ten years from
the date of the court decree or agre
ment. You cannot deduct as alimony
any part of the money designated as
child support in your divorce agree-
ment. But you are entitled to a depend-
ency deduction ($600) if the amount you
pay for child support is more than half
the amount spent on the child. If the
annual amount intended for child sup-
port in your divorce reement is over
$600, it would be advantageous for you
to have it included with the alimony,
and not specified as child support, so
that your full payment cin be deducted,
rather than just а $600 dependency
deduction.

Some sixty million returns are filed
cach year. OF these, some forty-five mil-
lion are simple low-income returns,
ing the standard 109, deduction, and.
without much in the way of business
expense and reimbursements, dividends,
charitable donations, ctc. The other
fifteen million returns—and yours
would most likely be in that group —
are kept aside, and some three mil
of them are eventually examined each
year. How the three million are selected
from the fifteen million is a well-guarded
secret that seems to vary from year to
year. To play it statistically safe, expect.
to have your return individually audited

is

at least once every five years.

All sixty million returns are checked
for arithmetical accuracy. If you've made
a simple crror in math, you'll either re
ceive a refund or a bill for additional
tax. (The government, incidentally, is
presently sitting on several million dol-
lars in unclaimed refund checks. Such
checks are never forwarded if you've
moved, but are mailed to the address on
your tax return and, if you've changed
residence, returned to Washington and
held until you write and inquire.)

Since there's a statute of limitations.
on income tax assessments, you can con
sider yourself safe if you haven't re
ceived Greetings from Internal Revenue
within three years after having filed. If
you've deliberately committed fraud, the
period of time is six years for criminal
prosecution, but unlimited for tax
assessment and the accompanying fine.
If Internal Revenue docs write you,
they'll generally pinpoint the items they
question, and you can sometimes seule
the matter by mail, by supplying sup
porting documents (canceled checks and
chits) to the local IRS office. Should sev
eral items be suspect, you may be asked
to appear in person at the IRS office

If you can convince the agent to ac
cept your return as filed, you're clear. If
he doesn't buy your explanation and
suggests a tax reassessment, you сап
either agree to this or request a confer-
ence with his Group Chicl. If the result
of this conference is still unsatisfactory
10 vou, you can arrange anothe
ence, this time with the Appel
sion of IRS. And if this still doesn’t
atisly you and persuade Internal Rev-
enue to accept your return as filed, you
can cither (1) file a petition in the Tax
Court or (2) pay the additional tax, file
a refund claim (which will be rejected)
and sue for a refund in the Federal Dis-
trict Court or the Court of Claims —
these latter often being more favorable
to the

If you're late in filing your return,
you'll face a monthly fine of 5%, of the
tax — ир to a penalty of 25%. The fine
can be avoided if you can show reason-
able cause for the late filing. Or if you
know you won't be able to meet the fil-
ing date, you can ask your local IRS
office for a ninety-day extension, ма
the reason for the request. These exten-
sions are generally granted when the
request is reasonable, and can be fol
lowed by a second ninety-day extension
if needed. When you finally do file, you
pay 69% annual interest on the tax due.

Unless you're a short-form, salary-
only citizen, best you get professio!
help — accountant or tax attorney — i
making out your return. Incidentally,
the cost of tax advice — even the cost of
purchasing thís magazine, if you did so
to rcad this tax article — is deductible.

xpayer than the Tax Court

FAR OUT FILMS (continued pon эше 58)

The very feat of assembling twenty-
four nonprofessional and wholly unpaid
actors in one place and at one time re-
quires logistic skill of no mean order.
Often the mere fact that the cast is on
hand means diat the shooting must go
o matter what. One cold gray morn-
another experimentalist turned up
in Central Park with five shivering ac-
tors. He had hardly mounted his camera
on its tripod, however, when the police
arrived and demanded to scc his license.
Amateurs, of course, сап photograph
their sweethearts and. babies in the park
to their hearts content, but profession-
als must have a license. In vain did the
youthful film maker protest that he was
an he cops pointed out that
he was using a tripod and, so far as they
were concerned, the tripod was the mark
of the pro. And so, rather than run the
risk of losing his cast while he went
down to City Hall for the necessa
papers, he put the tripod back in his
car and shot the entire sequence holding
the camera in his hand.

This question of professionalism, of
status, is one that touches most art filin
makers to the quick. If the test of pro-
fessionalism is whether or not you make
your living by what you are doing, then
clearly no avantgardist could claim to
be a professional film maker. Despite

the spread of the film society movement
both here and abroad in the past few
years, it is not yet of sufficient size to
support any artist in the style to which
he would like to become accustomed.
Indeed, most of them count themselves
lucky if they can earn back their produc
tion costs. On the other hand. they very
definitely are not amateurs. Not only do
they at least attempt to sell their pic
tures, but many of them have a degre
of technical proficiency that fully qual-
ifies them for— and es earns
them — lucrative assignments in the com-
mercial studios.

Го others, such a “sell-out” would
be unthinkable. ard themselves
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ists. And for them, the only true and
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rt of its ultimate stature. But
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They rej

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authentic works of art cin still emerge —
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wickery can result in sheer trash when
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It is precisely here that the film so-
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expr nd which from an ignoble
itch for self-exhibition. This recognition,
this critical discernment, is essential. For
it would be the height of folly, in this
day of increasing conformity, to spurn
an ardently individualist artistic move
ment out of distrust for some of the
people who comprise it.

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(continued from page 78)

of a mishap to the first.

in thirty-two years has there

hint of irregularity or fore-
ssumed. the

and it can be
record will continue unbroken for the
next thirty-two. I's probably the most
honest election anywhere in the world.

“The generalization complete, an ex-
ception must be noted — опе that has
nothing to do with the ballot’s secrecy,
but rather with its effectiveness. It oc
curred on а melancholy night in Febru
y 1957, when the Academy Board of
Governors, wearing robes and chant
g exorcismal litanies, descended. from
Olympus and entered. politics.

It will be remembered by some that
in recent years we have had in this coun-
ly and not for the first ume in ou

history—a problem of witches. It is a
law almost as sound as Gresham's that
wherever witches abide there will rise up
people to hunt them down. It’s an in-
stinct as deep as the sexual drive, almost
as much fun, and often safer. In Holly-
wood, where everything is carried to ex
‚ the sport flourished to the point
of obsessior

Spurred on by a Congressman whose
cupidity finally landed him in the peni-
tentiary, the pursuit of witches in Holly-
wood became something of з national
pastime, while investigators. investiga
ted, informers informed, patriots roared
through studio commissarics, legions of
the loyal marched and counter-marched,
and the most dedicated bayed like wild
things all night long whenever the Hol-
lywood moon turned red through the
smog, which was, and still is, practically
always.

The victims themselves, caught in a sit
uation where there were [ar more witches
than broomsticks, were doomed from the
outset. A few canny oldsters managed
successful take-offs, but the majority were
left flopping about on the ground like
emperor penguins, blinking in the pub-
glare, and making soft, reproachful
little calls. The horror tapered off, not
because the pursuers lost heart for their
sport, but simply because they over-
hunted the preserve. When the smoke
finally settled, over 230 specimens were
recovered. Three were veterans of World
War L Forty-one had served in World
War IL. Nine were found clutching the
Oscars whose fatal weight had cost them
altitude. The sounds of pursuit fled cast
ward, and the quiet of an institutional-
ized blacklist settled over the community
like a shroud.
awhile, a series of embarrassments
1 to the Academy. In 1952
Michael Wilson was awarded an Oscar
lor 4 Place in the Sun, but he'd already
been shot down as a witch. In 1951 Tan
McLellan Hunter Award for
Roman Holiday, and again a defunct

treme

had occur

won the

witch had to be Oscared. In 1957, Michacl
Wilson tumed up again with Friendly
Persuasion as a possible nominee. Wilson
1 written the film before he was black
listed, and now, several years later, his
presence hung over the project like a
ghost. Faced with another witch on the
podium, the Academy decided it must
abandon the idea that the results of a
secret vote can qualify а man to receive
“the respect and admiration of his pects.
They passed a new bylaw that in future
no witch could be nominated for the
Award, and that if he was nominated.
his name would not be placed on the
ballot for final voting. Then they re-
solved to keep the bylaw secret until and
unless Michael Wilson was nominated
for Friendly Persuasion.

Sure enough, he was. The Academy
promptly publicized its secret bill of
inder, and voided the nomination.
With Wilson out of the contention, the
Award for Best Screen Adaptation went
to the authors of Around the World in
Eighty Days, after a loud credit squab-
ble. The category of Best Original Story
was won by Robert Rich for The Brave
One. Then it turned out there was no
Robert Rich. Or rather, there were a
dozen Robert Riches, all claiming an
abandoned Oscar that rumor now attrib-
uted to some dishonorable witch who
had shilted names in mid flight.

Meanwhile, g Brothers Produc
tions, who had produced The Brave One.
found themselves embarked upon a flood
of litigation. The absence of Robert
Rich, combined with the suspicion he'd
never dare to publicly admit his author
ship, caused а number of fists to reach
for the unguarded jampot. One plagi
rism suit was filed, and quietly settled out
of court. Instantly three more got under
way. The King Brothers unwilling to
pay more than lour times lor a script
they'd already bought twice, finally pro-
duced the cctoplasmic Robert Rich. He
turned out to bea witch. Me. The
plagiarism suits faded one by one, and
the Academy solved its dilemma by list-

of The Brave One and winner of its
Oscar—ıhe first yarn in history to be
written by a corpo:

By 1959 another witch loomed as
possible competitor in the person ol
Nathan Douglas, co-author of The De-
fiant Ones, which looked in
nominee and a very possible winner. But
Douglas had collaborated with à non-
witch named Hal Smith. Under the new
bylaw, the script was clearly ineligible
because half of it had been written by a
witch.

€ a cer

But what to do about the non-
witch the other hall?
Douglas and Smith were like Siamese
if you shot one down you got
them both. What served Douglas right
would be terrible for Smith — and. be-
sides, there had always been a closed sca-
son on non-witches. The Academy threw

who had written

twin:

up its hands, and rescinded the bylaw
as “impractical.” Witch and nonavitch
walked away with the Oscar, and people
tried to forget the whole thing.

It was the Academy's one slip in three
decades, and compared with the record
of the film studios and TV networks, it
was almost an honorable slip. Bedeviled
though it was by witches and cager as it
was to eliminate them, the Academy did
not once consider the practical solution
of tampering with the ballot; it merely
abrogated the vote. By leaving the fun-
damentals intact, it was thus enabled to
repair the original structure without
having to rebuild from the ground up.

There's a lesson somewhere.
From now on s the problem
of witches i aching a solution

throughout the area. Some say it’s be-
cause there aren't any more witches left.

out here. Others say they think there
are a few still lurking in the higher
altitudes, say timberline and above,

But they're the shyest, cleverest, fastest
witches in the world, They take off like
guided missiles at the drop of a rumor,
and they orbit four times belore landing
upwind of their stalke
spend. years wying to bag such quarry.
ill, one can never tell. It's an anc
sport, and it is fun.

Hollywood, the amorphous area in
which germinates the American Cinema,
has never had a good press, and it never
will have. Its work is too exciting. Its
rewards are (oo rich, and its pleasures
are too stimulating to arouse anything
but envy. There is no columnist, however
debased, who cannot dismiss screen-
authorship as hackwork. There is no
spear-carrier from an off Broadway flop
who cannot tilt his nose at the brightest
star in Hollywood. And there is no in-
tellectual, regardless of how many aca-
demic sterns he’s osculated in getting
tenure, who cannot successfully berate
Hollywood for doing violence 10 the
world’s integrity. Contempt for Holly-
wood is as necessary to the intellectual
and his Broadway counterfeit as the
“nigrah” is to his cracker neighbors.
We're all going down, boys, but look at
him —

- ^ man could

One would not, of course, daim the
heights of Parnassus either lor the com-
munity or the medium: our elderly ac-
countants can’t stand such altitudes. But
a good many lively years in Hollywood
ıt more first-rate
motion pictures are created in America
than first-rate novels or plays, year by
given year. As for philosophy and the
revisionist historians —a prayer, gentle
men, and three minutes of silence.

The pleasantest thing about the
medium is that people like it. It is a new
art form which counts its audience by
the hundreds of millions. The artist who
chooses to work in the cinema has the
satisfaction of knowing that the ideas he
conveys will swiftly travel to every coun-

have convinced me u

ardless of the

try on earth, re

barrier. It’s like speaking ii

tongue, and carries with it a correspond-
ing moral responsibility. If. Hollywood
doesn't often measure up to the respons
bility, it is no more culpable than the
Broadway Theatre, or the great. publish-
ing institutions that consume forests cach
year for the printing of trash. Morcove
there have been occasions when Holly-
wood rose very high indeed: they
not many, to be sure, but their number
compares favorably with the existing
competition.

Meanwhile, the Academy of Motion
Picture Arts and Sciences enjoys a Tr
dex rating for its Award ceremonies of
hily over 75.5, which means. roughly,
that every other person in the country
views the event. No President has done
so well in a decade. The Academy de-
clares that its purposes in bestowing the
Oscars аге “To raise the standards of
motion picture production. education-
ally, culturally, and. technically, and. to

ignily the film medium.”

Academy may, in some degree,
“dignily the medium” (which is to say,
publicize it), but when it is asserted that
the Awards are "an incentive for pro.

ducers, writers, directors, actors, cinema-
tographers and other technicians to strive
for an increasingly better product,” we
are in the presence of sheer institutional
nonsense. Or, to put it differently, the
Academy stimulates Hollywood to "strive
for an increasingly better product" pre-
cisely as the Nobel Peace Prize stimulates
world governments to strive for peace.

The truth is, no prize stimulates the
creative person to anything. Not the
Nobel, not the Pulitzer, not the Ameri
can Booksellers Award, not the Oscar.
Creative people do not and cannot com
pete with cach other, Their struggle lies
in that private arca where the individual
competes against his own faulted talents
for a more nearly perfect expression of
what he feels and thinks the truth to be.

The rest is tinsel, and the organizers
оГ competitions and the donors of prizes
get far more fun out ol them than the
recipients. There's something mighty fine
about patting your better on the head
and murmuring “Well done, good and
faithful servant." But it only flatters the
head-patter; the pattce of integrity al-
ways knows it’s spinach.

“Tt was owned by an elderly couple.”

81

PLAYBOY

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(continued from page 76)

but be finicky in tei

The projector — in purely mec
terms — should operate smoothly. The
controls should be accessible and cl
labeled. Vibration and noise du
operation should be as non-existent as
they are in a RollsRoyce. The pro-
jected image should be
shouldn't droop, rise or ji
1 be filming at established
speeds, it's obviously advantageous for
the projector to move along ame
ds, without Huctuation. If you didn't
id to come up with a slow-motion
equence, you shouldn't get onc
fringe benefit.

You t projet your film on a
matchbook and expect to sustain atten-
tion —even if the subject is as bouncy
as Bardot. The focal length of the lens
determines just how far from the screen
the projector must be placed in order to
fill the screen. For example, to fill a
screen 40 inches wide, projectors with
one-inch lenses must aim from 18 feet
away; 14 fect is about right for % inch
lenses. The Bell & Howell Filmovara
variable-focal-length lens is one мау
out of this confine it reduces the
ed.
adapter and Argus’ zoom lens do, too.
ectors accept 400-foot. reels,
which provide more than thirty minutes
of 8mm viewing at the 18 [ps speed
(15 minutes on lömm). If a projector
won't take more than а 200-foot reel, be
aware of the fact that you'll have to
jump up and down to change reels.

Several 8mm projectors — including
ihe Eastman Cine Showtime, the Bell &
Howell Super Auto-Load and the Re-
vere AZ 777 —elimi
task of hand-ıhreading. Instead of guid-
g the film through the projector's
byrinthian sprocket system, you simply
insert the first frame into the fust step
of the threading trail, hit the switch and
joyously watch the film make its way
unaided to the tke-up reel. Just slip
the leader of the film onto that bottom
reel and you're ready to si
The new projectors offer other con-
тепсе features, too. Look for a sin-
lelever or button rewind. A reverse-
Tun device enables you to repeat that
scene of you pushing the girlfriend into
the pool, without having to rewind the
entire reel. A Utread-checking knob per-
mits you to double-check your film
threading by turning the film-moving
mechanism by hand, and prevents the
jarring discovery of a pile of tangled
film on the floor, Some of the new
models have a room-lamp socket. You
plug а table lamp into it and when the
projector light goes off the room light
goes on automatically. Most projectors
offer still projection (the projection of a
single frame at a time

Since you

5 a

e the tiresome

t the show.

Y

(intentional and mechanically con-
trolled, not accidental) is worth having,
too, to permit speeding up. running
through dull spots and slowing down at
the end of a rewind to bring the film
to a halt without that flapping sound.

The world’s best camera and projector
won't save you if your directing tech
nique is shoddy. This means you ought
to be concerned with plot and continuity
before you load your camera. It means,
too, that the wise amateur invests in a

film editorsplicer, which enables you to
drop to the cutting-room floor all over-
exposed, underexposed, out-of-focus and
light-fogged scraps. If a scene was poorly
composed (lopped-off heads and the
like), or if it was an unsuccessful after
thought, toss it out by judicious editing.
Finally, your assorted equipment
isn’t complete without a pan-head tri-
pod, for the steadiest kind of shooting
and a screen that docs justice to you
films. There are a slew of splendid
models of both—sturdy, lightweight
tripods; washable, flameproof screens,
with beaded, aluminum surface or m
surface. We recommend beaded screens
that come in tripod-mounts, wall types,
or permanently mounted automatic
models that slide in and out of a slim
enclosure on button touch. Alter you
outline your projection area io your
a dealer, he'll recommend the
ht size screen for you, in terms ol
ihe focal length of your lens and the
usual distance from projector to screen
— so you'll get a full screen image.
Camera, projector, editor (and latch
onto a titler, too, for that professional
PRESENTS touch) and screen in hand,
you're ready to turn out Class A pro-
ductions. Advice to the film fan: build
your movie around a story line, Ma
tain interest by mixing long and short
scenes (cardinal rule: avoid too n
short ones). Suive for Hitchcocki:
pense; lead up to your central idea,
don't slug your audience with it. Never
repeat a scene except, perhaps, for
comic effect; once around is usually
enough. Use close-ups to portray cha
acter. Direct your films by relating the
subject to the running time: don’t use
three reels to tell a one-reel story. Re
ember that they're moving pictures:
never run off a series of scenes of stand.
ing-still stuff. Tie everything you shoot
smack into the plot. If there's a charm-
ing landscape nearby, forget it unless
its a part of your scenario. Never wy
panning tripod —

camel

hy

nd even then avoid it if you can: pan
very slowly if you can't. All of these
rules of thumb can be broken by a real
artist, of course. But you must know
them thoroughly before breaking them.
Once all is mulled and filmed, don't be
squeamish about cutting

Ready? Lights. Actio

Camera!

BARGAIN

(continued from page 70)
she had dawed viciously.

She then turned to me, and said
“Thank you for helping us, dear friend.
We will not forget you!"

It was up to me then to depart, and 1
did this, but I felt foolish to leave such
a woman, though she belonged to an:
other.

Willy had her
not apparent that his enjoyments were
unclouded. He had taken on responsi-
bilities which required energetic tend
ing. It was no small matter to feed such
a family, and he had to look forward
to the problem of moving the family to
the west, for by this time we had heard
that our division was to be moved away
from the international boundary. And
Elfrida herself was di She was
capable of scratching se in her
passion —"She hurts,” Willy said. "My
back is raw from her fingerna
and she did not always keep her ap.
pointments. She was elusive; Willy found
her mysterious. Still, they did well to
gether. Willy was strong with youth. and
Elfrida bloomed, as brides are supposed
to do. That veteran of the bridal bower
developed a marvelous color, a brilliant
selfconfidence. Willy improved her
wardrobe, by judicious trading in the
village: some of the refugees had brought
pretty things with them. Willy offered
coffee, cigarettes and canned goods,
which he stole he needed. them. He
found Ellrida several dresses, two pairs
of silk stockings and a pair of shoes:
and he ordered. other things from the
States.

Such auentions had their effect. El
frida ceased to look like a refugee. She
began to look like a well-maintained
wife, and she began to assert a kind of
wilely authority with Willy; there came
a time when she was able to request him
to take her and her family to Halle. We
had a rumor that the division was going
there, and she expressed a desire to an
ticipate such a transfer. Willy of course
wanted her to go, and so he came to me
with his plan for borrow:
company's trucks.

“I really like that woman pretty well,”
he said, "and I want to take care of her
but I need some help. How about it?
Would you go along?” I could scarcely
refuse, for to do so would be to deny
the old friendship of the war; and be
sides, 1 wanted to help Elfrida.

Again we had a lark. The fast thir
was to plan a route to Halle that would
avoid battalion and regimental head
quarters areas, where traffic checks might
he expected; this we did by scouting the
country, in a jeep temporarily stolen
fiom our own battalion headquarters
company. We found a route, and marked
it on our maps; then we returned home
feeling excited and cheerful. The next

to himself, but it was

one of the

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thing was to find a place for Elfrida's
family in Halle, and this proved more
difficult. Willy took over this task, and
needed two days for it. He wandered
heroically; he came back each day dusty
and tired. One day he traveled by jeep,
borrowed this time from regimental
headquarters, and the next day by mo-
torcycle; he had found a German army
motorcycle cached nd, so he
daimed, it ran perfectly. He made ап
interesting figure as he departed: the
big man lightly crouching, absolutely
bent on traveling fierce and fast, the
machine's rear wheel sending up spurts
of dust behind his acceler on. When
he came back, he had a bump on his
head and some bruises, onc g violet
affair on his left arm; he had fallen off
the machine in a corner; but he was
happy, for he had found a house in
Halle for Elfrida and her family.

He was full of enthusi as if he
were considering the problems of his
own true family. He spoke of the house
as if he had just conversed with an en-
thusiastic broker. “There ain't a window
lacks glass, there's furniture, and there's
even carpets. By God, th garden
out back that has roses!” He let me doc-
tor his wounds, which were several large
sculfed areas on his back, where the hide
had been polished raw by gravel in the
roadway, but he would not stop talking
about his house, and about the joy which
he expected Elfrida to take in it. “By
God, it's even a pretty big house, and

nice neighborhood,” he said.
Il see when we get there. Its a
place for the quality —1 had hell run-
ning that other family out!"

Then he asked me if Elfrida would be
pleased by such a house, and I said she
would be pleased. Т was daubing at his
back with tincture of Merthiolate, and
he was touchy about it. L had a good
view of him. He was hurting, his bruises
were dark, and he would admit to a
headache, no doubt the result of a minor
concussion, but he would not consider
these matters seriously. Beside his great
concern, they did not seem real.

“Willy,” I said, and touched him with
my pink daub of cotton, “everything
happens to you!

When he left me to go to Elfrida, he
had a dim and hopeful smile on his face,
for he wanted his news to give pleasure.

The next night was chosen for the
family’s migration. Willy and I made
an arrangement with one of the com-
pany truck drivers, an old friend of com-
bat days, and that night at ten o'clock
I drove our truck to the rendezvous
agreed upon; this was a road junction
perhaps half a mile from town. At ten-
thirty, Willy arrived with the family,
trooping in out of the dark, the family
cautious and scared. We helped them
up into the truck, and hurried away;
while I drove, Willy kept an anxious

in a shed,

eye out. We expected difficulties, for we
were not used to having our own way,
but nothing happened. Our route un-
reeled itself, coming up out of the dark
—road signs briefly black and white un-
der Willy's flashlight, crossroads pale
and still We made the trip without
headlights in a little more than three
hours, and found a garden smelling of
roscs at the end of it, and a high, n.
row brick house. Inside, behind black-
out screens, Willy lighted oil lamps and
shyly gave over the house to Elfrid

H it is, hone he said.
yours.”

The family were astonished. We were
in a room that could only be a parlor:
the furniture w there was an
oriental rug, there were framed. photo-
graphs on the walls, gentlemen and 1
dies in black. The litte girls did not
move at all, and the older women in-
spected the room in fierce, darting stares,
blinking their eyelids. Elfrida nodded
her head just once, and said, “Splendid!

Then she came to me and took my
right hand in her
dear friend,” she said, looking me in the
eye. "You have done a wonderful thing
for us.

You're — welcome,” I stammered. I
had not expected thanks, since the trip
had been uneventful. 1 had hoped for a
difficulty, so that I could do something
bold or gallant while Elfrida looked on,
but now I perceived that I would not
have had greater thanks from Elfrida for
driving our truck through a road block.

She kissed my hand; I blushed, and
could not speak. She turned to Willy,
slowly walked to him, and embraced
him. Lightly she kissed him, on both
cheeks; she tilted her head back, and
said, "You are so good to me . . . sweet-
heart.”

Willy mumbled, and she stepped back.
“A husband could not treat me more
nicely," she said, and Willy hung his
head. On the way back to our villa
Willy kept saying, "I can’t get over it.
I expected her to be glad .. . but she
called me sweetheart! What do you
think of that, now!”

He was impressed, and clearly he was
thinking of Elfrida in a new way; but
he could not do anything for a few days
because we were occupied with movi
away from the international river.
whole Army was moving back, to allow
the Russians into the part of central
many allotted them in the grand sct-
етене Throughout that time, Willy
anxious, much more distinctly
exercised than 1 had ever expected him
to be. He seemed uncommonly medita
tive. For several miles during our ride
in trucks to Halle, he even carried his
chin on his hand. He kept his brows
knitted, and the smooth, hard lines of
his face looked contorted with the lines
raying up between his cycbrows. His

‘It's

ge,

was vel

face was not meant to look so: he ap-
peared to be in pain, but at the same
time he scemed joyful. I concluded that
he was in love, and did not worry about
him.

Our company was set down in a block
of houses in a working-class quarter of
the city, and very quickly we arranged
our comforts. The regimental com-
mander took over a local brewery, and
arranged to distribute its product, Each
оГ our houses had a keg of beer in the

in a

у suung up
a cnt cell ene sco
ganized. Willy quickly found h
to Elfrida, and I did not see much of
him for almost a week; and then one
evening, just before he was due to set
out on his nightly journey. he told me
that he was going to get married.

“Bur you are married," I said. "In
Dallas, You've got kids”

“I know. I'm just gettin
church. here. Elfrid:

“In church?

"In à Catholic Church, the kind the
Mexicans have, down home. Ellrida's
Catholic. There won't be any papers
at a conrthous aything like that

“But vou're not Catholic! What makes
you think you сап"

"EH just fake it, that's all.
already taught me how to cross myself.
And ГИ have something for the priest
а help.”

“Ellrida's already
then."

"You bet. The whole thing is h
idea, but 1 don't mind. She figures LII
take better care of her if Im married.
to her — thats what she says, anyhow.”

1 thought of bigamy, and wanted to
mention it, but could not find the words
I needed;

"I know what you're il

id, "but it ain't so. I'll go back to my
in Dallas, cven to that bitch —
IM straighten her out when I get home.
But Tm going to be married here, in
Germany, at least for a while. Elfrida
wants me to, and that's enough for me

“You'll have to have a secr
ding," 1 said.

"Secret, you bet! I don't want nobody.
to hear of it. And I want you to be my
best man. Listen, Elfrida wants flowers,
ou and bare going to have to pro-
mote some for her. Now I figured . ,
His plans were comprehensive; he at-
ticked the problem of getting married
with characteristic energy. He arranged
for a wedding feast; that me.
pact with the mess sergeant. He intro-
duced the mess sergeant to a pretty girl.
He contracted for the church: it was a
humble church in a nondescript edge
oftown parish. He organized the con-
spiracy — 1o have an illegal wedding in
broad daylight, under the eyes of the

married in

found a priest,

t wed-

nt à com-

Army. The stern Army order
Iraternization had to be gotten
He talked to the priest, several times.
He obtained corsages, cut flowers and
bouquets. He got champagne, He stole
it from the stocks of confiscated German
stores which were kept for our officers
in the company orderly room.

He had activity like a disease, and
sported in it: and he accomplished every-
thing he set out to do. He got himself
married to Elfrida, in a Catholic Church,
in great privacy. The family was pres-
ent, looking scared and dressed up; the
little girls were c
roses, and that w;

He had
yman's badge
angled some

did, in uniform and ribbon
shined his comb
with silver. polish.
paratrooper boots.
I was there, unhappy, thinking that
Elfrida was now absolutely cut off from
me. E felt myself held in by the atmos
phere of the church. Above my head I
sensed a high religious dimness, coercing
me. The priests Latin was very suave,
muttered like a dangerous secret; the
priest himself seemed not quite to belong
hat he was doing, for he had a qu

ton s
tioning, faintly bitter face with sharp
features. He had large brown eyes

which naw and then pecped boldly out
of the ritual, Several times he glanced
at Willy, and it was plain that he did not
very much of Willy.

At the end of the ceremony, Will
kissed Elfrida very chastely. He touched
her shoulders lightly, bent toward her,
and just brushed her
offended, for Willy seemed to be giving
in to his surroundings. Elfrida, as she
turned away from the altar, had a look
of radiant triumph, which for a moment
She seemed to say, “Ob-
we done something with this
clay.” She made me look down, for I
ad mo expression that would answer
her. As they were leaving the church,
Willy made the sign of the cross, and
Elfrida nodded approvingly.

ma

she bent on mi

I had reason to be vexed, and so
stung them with a handful of rice; they
were surprised, and Elfrida for a mo-

ment looked shrewdly at me. W.
“Неаһ, heah!" and grinned.
Then we made separate journeys to
Elfrida's house for the wedding
and T got drunk on W
I wandered off while Willy was propos
ing toasts to his new family — the gr
mother was already tipsy — and resolved
to pay no further attention to Willy and
Elfrida. 1 wanted to look the other way
and for perhaps а week | did that. I
was captain of the company volleyball
team, and that week we won the regi-
mental championship. A new rumor
grew strong, and 1 paid attention to it:
we were to go to Japan, in the second
assault wave, after a furlough in the

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States, and that furlough was a pleasant
thing to think about. We heard that we
would leave Germany in June, in July,
in August.

I kept my attention away from Willy,
but not my thoughts, and so I was read.
for him when I once again looked his
way. I found him happy. He had become
a husband, our only one. He had be-
come domestic. 1 went one evening to
his house, and he met me at the door,
carrying the baby. He called me in, and
had me sit down: he got me a cigar and
a glass of brandy. Then he took a chair,
and perched the baby on his knee. The
baby was facing him. and together they
composed an image of the familial re-
lation. Willy clucked at the baby while
the baby rolled his head.

Ain't he a fine boy?" Willy said.
Elfrida lets me take care of him now
and then.

We talked for perhaps half an. hour.

soothed him once when he cried.
did not appear, and since there was cur-
few for Germans at seven o'dock, 1 as-

sumed she was in the house; but I did
not ask. Willy was happy. "There were
voices from other rooms and upstairs:
the household was moving around its
center, and he was content.

Through June and July, Willy came
to have a reputation in the company

as a repu

for domesticity, and this w
tion more difficult for him to su
than his old one. He was a provider,
and wanted to be a good one, but there
was no legitimate work for him to do.
id to steal or promote what his
needed, and so he intrigued with
certain mess sergeants and supply ser-
nts in the regiment. Willy could
etimes arrange a German girl for a
nt; and sometimes, through El-
he came

frida.

ross goods which he
could barter. At one time, for example,
he had French perfume, left over from
the days of German conquest, with
which he traded quite successfully

He had to keep moving: he had peo-
ple to sce; and, increasingly as the sum-
mer wore on, he had military duties to
put up with. The Army was returning
ter the confusions of vic
tory. Training schedules appeared: for-
mations were enforced; the officers be
gan to withdraw into their privileges
Willy had to conduct his illegal bus
ness in the early-morning hours and
ter retreat; he took to rising at four-
and he was often out until mid-

He found time to enjoy his family,
however. He took supper with them,
and this was a great pleasure to him.
He sported with the baby: his custom
was to take him as soon as he arrived,
so that, where the child had
seemed an extension of Elfrida, he now
seemed an extension of Willy. I had the

once

habit of gc

with Willy two or three
times a week for supper, and I was im-
pressed with the jov he could take in
family life.

He had a talent for it. He accepted
his family, and they accepted him,
that, on the whole, his marriage was a
stable and quiet affair. The mother and
grandmother respected him. He was a
gure of authority to them, and he was
nposing cnoug! he took
his case — his big body relaxed in a
heavy chair, a cigar going, his feet
propped on a stool The litle girls
liked to climb on him, and their mother.
watched approvingly.

Elfrida took great pains with Willy.
She looked to his comforts. Twice a
week she did his laundry and iro
every night she cooked for him and
served him, and would not sit dawn
until he was drinking his coffee. Her
devotion was almost oriental, and she
delighted in it. Together, in that parlor,
they made a very touching composition
— wedded bliss, perpetually rising to its
best opportunities. Willy had the baby,
and Elfrida to put on his slippers for
him. She had bought them herself —
leather ones — and her way was to kneel
before him. She kept her face attentive,
and sometimes when she rose, she kissed
him lightly on the foichead.

So the marriage hekl, as the summer
wore on. Willy was happy: he used to
tell me so, several times a day; and El-
frida i but
July there happened ап event which
made a change. In fact, Elfrida seduced
me, as it were. and I had to conceive
whole new set of attitudes toward her.
1 was surprised — astonished. Suddenly 1
was given just that which I had been
wanting, and my feclings on receiving
the gift taught me how strong the want-
ing had been. I had plainly grown
weak with desire: I was vulnerable and
available. 1 accepted my good fortune as
а matter of course. Not for
sting it. for 1
been trained as a soldier to seek out
ood fortune, on the theory that only
good fortune could save me. 1 was an
opportunist, and had an animal keen-
ness for sensing a chance, out or
a way to a satisfaction.

I hung on a hair trigger constantly:
but I was not alone in that. My delicacy
was univers ll of us were like that,

h, certainly,

did 1 think of re

w

and so my society included and con-
firmed my personal style. I accepted
Elfrida, and thought, instantly, that

anyone else would do the same. Light
does not move more resolutely through
dark th toward
plishment. I thought vaguely about the
war, and told myself that im wartime
many things were possible that could
never be so in a peace; and a murderer
could bitter than 1
secking love.

Having an afternoon free because of

motives

n my

accom-

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a volleyball practice which was to begi
at four o'clock, I went to Elfrida's
house, and found her restless and bored.
Willy was having to be a soldicr that
aftemoon: when Flfrida asked if 1
would take her for a w; T was im-
mediately ready to try my luck with her.
We did not go far, though we walked
very rapidly, and we kept to the
we came to a shed that had

nd Elfrida suggested that we tarry. "I
would like to rest,” she said. She set my
heart to pounding: she was tall and
fragrant; 1 could smell her hair, with
the sun on it.

I had no care for my friend. I was
aware of him; he was this lady's pro-
prietor, but he seemed unreal, Elfrida
was new to me, her normal ties undone.
The curve of her hip was present to me.
and her smooth round
lady whom fortune ha
she deserved sympathy: and I was full
of sympathy! I longed to tell her so:
1 was prepared to rehearse her misfor-
tunes at thc bridge, and warmly press
her hand in restitution. I was ready to
talk, to make a plea, but there was no
need.

A dumb resolution took me near to
her, so that 1 could touch her shoulder.
Sick with apprehension, E looked at her
face. She was in a dusty light from the
open door, he has blue
eves," and then 1 saw that she had great
violet eyes, enlarging themselves to ac
commodate a new feeling. She kept si-
lence, and there was a sweetness in her
s of some ideal image. Her ex-
pression was meditative and remote; a
little smile appeared on her lips, and f
caught her.

An old story. I was clumsy, she was
graceful, I frowned with concentration.
and she smiled, and we made love. Her
will was to have love that afternoon,
and so it happened, a clarin

When it was over, and I was dusting
off her golden shoulders where were
clover blosoms and dry little leaves
from the hay, I asked her to love me,
"Because I love you, because Гуе loved
you for a long time.”

She said, "Of course I love you. I
have proved it" She turned, she put
her warm arm on my neck, and kissed
me. "You are a nice boy," she said.
“Now I think we should go back to my
house before Willy comes.”

She dressed slowly and gracefully.
She balanced sinuously on one foot
while she pulled a silk stocking onto the
other leg; her bent knee was like
j She balanced again ta put on a
nd then flexed her thigh for me,
rinned. At cach stage of the dress-
ing, she looked as if she were posing
for a painter— intending to look her
finest. When we left the shed, she looked
ck at it and nodde nd then she
lked at my side quite mildly. We
rived at her house a few minutes befor

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93

PLAYBOY

Willy, whom she received in her cus-
tomary fashion; she kissed him, she got
his slippers, she brought out the baby
from his nap. Then she stepped awa
from him, perfectly calm, and there was
only a small flaring of her nostrils to
indicate that she had a secret from her
trusting husband,

I of course from that moment began
to suffer desire in its aspect of blank
I wanted Elfrida to myself, that i

definitely far away from me. I looked
stealthily at the line of her buttocks,
that not half an hour before had been
under my touch, and they were as if in

a painting, high up on a wall of a
museum. I began calculating when my
next chance might arrive, and then, of
course, I feared that it might never ar-
rive. I tried to remember everything
Elfrida had said to me, for a sign that
she had committed herself to me, but I
could recall only terms of endearment,
and minute animal sounds, and these
could scarcely represent a commitment.

I fiercely considered her motives,
wanting to humble them to my self
interest. Toward that end, I told myself
that Elfrida was a careless girl, easily
deflected, but 1 could not accept that.
I then told myself that she might love
me for my good qualities, but 1 could
not recall that I possessed good quali-
ties. I did not make her out; her con-
duct was opaque to my desire. I wanted
not to leave the house, and of course
Willy pressed me to stay — for dinner,
for brandy, for conversation. 1 looked
to Elfri naturally, for a sign, and
when there seemed not to be one, 1
felt a duty to depart. In a few minutes
I left, thinking of no other thing than
a way to return when Willy would not
be there to interrupt me.

I discovered, then, that it was not
difficult to find Willy away. His busi-
ness enterprises kept him away from
home, like the traveling salesman of
Amcrican tradition who must wander.
farther than any knight of the grail.

‘The very next day, at the same hour in
the afternoon, I found Elfrida alone,
and I asked her to go walking; she re-
fused, but she did not kill my hopes.
On the way back to the company, I dis-
covered a new ferocity of desire, and
began to understand how Willy had
been brought under control. | felt the
influence of an art which I could not
understand. І grew angry at Elfrida,
and I decided that anger could un-
derstand her; she had embraced me
only to coax out gifts, and this was a
bitter thought; but I sought gifts, that
night, among the men of the company.
Many had loot, and some of it applied
to my difficulty. I bought a ring and a
bracelet, and two days later made El-

frida a gift of them, which she accepted
gracefully.
For these things she kissed me, and

said, “You understand that I will not be
able to wear them . . . certainly not
when Willy is home. But I will get them
out, sometimes, and admire them.”
The next day, we went during the
afternoon to the shed with the hay, and

ures became astonishing to me.
suddenly healed of obscure wounds left

by the war. I walked about with confi-
dence, thrusting my head upward, and I
understood that I was happy. I began
to wonder if I might not somehow case
Willy out; the thought came to me that
I might have Willy's bigamous marriage
annulled by some German authority,
and then marry Elfrida myself, quite
legally.

I was ready to announce myself su-
perior to the world, until, two days later,
Elfrida told me that we would have to
end our little affair, though it had be-
come pleasing to her. I became angry —
like Willy, I was ready to do violence;
and I questioned her hotly. We were at
her house, in the parlor, sitting in the
huge chairs: she was wearing her gray
dress, and she looked very competent,
like the old Elfrida of the bridge, lead-

ing her little family through the wilder-
ness,

“I must think of my famil
very moderately.

“Then why did you start an affair
with me? All of a sudden — out of the
blue! Now you've got a responsibi
to me!

She smiled, and forced me to smile
with her. "You are quite nice," she
"I did not know that Americans could
be so... pleasant. And you have done
great services for us; why should 1 not
love you?" She was very much
mand of herself, and looked somehow
pleased; and of comse I taxed her with
that.

“You look — happy!” I said.
make you happy to see me sad:

“No; not that,” she answered quickly
“But can't you see? I am a lite happy.
I am happy that we had an affair. It
pleases me to have an affair just now!"

She got up, and struck an attitude:
one hand on a hip, the other pointing
at me; she was a figure of defiance. In-
deed, her bosom was heaving, she was
in the grip of an emotion.

"Can't you see?” she said again. “ОГ
course I am happy. I made him marry
me, that violent man, and now I have
done it—done what J wanted to de

She laughed, suddenly, and it was a
shocking sound in that stodgy, deco-
rous room. “Of course!" she las
smiling ferociously, and displaying two
rows of small wi teeth, glittering.
"Am I such а woman . . . to be tram-
pled? Not yet! I will not forget who
I am.

Then she shuddered, and her arms
fell to her sides. "I am sorry,” she said.
“But surely you can sec——"

1 could sec. She l taken her re-
venge on Willy, as she had promised to
do; marriage her means, and I the final
instrument. I thought of the sharp-fea-
tured priest, and it occurred to me that
he would be sad he knew Elfri
accomplishment, which was surcly a si
What would he s; It was clear that
he would not approve. I looked at El-
frida, fierce in wrath, and I felt cheated.
as if something had been withd
from my experience of her — some large-
ness of motive that I could admire. And
then, her mood changing, she came to
me and took my hands, and said, "But
I do love you, Liebchen. It was not on
that 1..." She paused, a
back to her chair; she sat down
composed. hersell.

“You understand, I love Willy too,
she said. "After such a beginning . .
Perhaps you cannot bel

Willy?” I said. "But he——"

“Took me like a robber. Yes. Like
onc of the bad old Germ E

“You shouldn't love him
said. “It’s not right!”

“Perhaps not. I have thought that.
But I do.”

* she said,

"Does it

la's

n baron:
then,"

I was perplexed, but I believed her;
she looked beautiful and honest. My
trouble was that I did not want to go
“Then better than I
thought.” I said. “More generous. more
fair — now I really can't leave you!"

Ah, so," she said, and made a depre-
cating gesture. "It is difficult for me that
I... It is ridiculous after everything
that | should love Willy. I have come
to know him; so, 1 can love him. He is
a good man, of course. He has been
quite good to me.” She sighed, and
shrugged her shoulders. “It is fortunate
that we are all young,” she said, "with
so much before us.

I then returned to my pleas, which
she considered, and finally smiled. over.
She made me a gift of thar smile, and
I left her I could believe that
her resolution was not final. I felt illu

aw you're

when

minated; but, naturally, I took away
with me some of her concern about
Willy. She feared his perception, and

so I feared it too; I wanted Willy to
persist in ignorance so that he would
continue inviting me to his house, where
I might have the good fortune to win
his wife again. I began to see that Willy
could have perception; he was no fool,
and his mild blue eyes could get through
to a fact me alert
But for a time the summer continued
its even way for us, a mild and healing
round in a gentle weather, There came
the news of the Japanese surrender,
and we celebrated that; and it was ap
parent that soon the division would be
sent home, as the vast Army began to
break up. Every day we had new ru-
mors, but there were no decisions, and
we stayed on; and the curious situation
І had gotten into with Elfrida and
Willy took on a peculiar appearance:
it began to look formal. The occasions
we shared — the dinners we took to-
gether, the drinking bouts, the story
tel

they once be

g—had an uns

able gravity,
we were anticipating ch

I olten meditated our doings. Willy
had commenced the comedy with violent
love enforcing itself by violence: he had
been passionate and efficient simulta-
neously, and that м arity. Perhaps
Willy had a gift for this; I could believe
i He came from a people who had
possessed such a gift; with it they had
appropriated the indefinite horizon.
Something was asleep in him to set him
thus free after plunder, but he was not
evil; he did not even intend any harm

And surely Elfrida was not evil, who
had only found a woman's way of deal-
ing with her world. Perhaps her trouble
was that her world came up to her
touch, ld be dealt with only by
some contortion of the flesh. She had
known the shudder in the loins — ah,
she could do something about that! She
ad not been afraid, and so she had
ged a revenge. She had made

ange.

nd сс

mai

cuckold of Willy; perhaps she had felt
a moral duty to do that, and certainly
she had made herself the heroine of an
adventure

Unfortunately she had also worked
her way through to love of Willy, and so
she was in a delicate position. She was
compromised, and perhaps unhappy. No
longer a victim, she was vulnerable in
her triumph: what might happen nov
Soon we would leave Europe, we Ame
cans who had conquered it, and there
would be an end; but we would. not be
leaving for a while, and there was timc
for something to happen. We had an
v to follow out the scheme
our acis predicted, and of course we
used that opportunity. In fact, Willy,
following the golden baby, Heinrich,
one Sunday morning came across the
bracelet and ring which 1 had given
Eifr

He presented his evidence that eve-
ning, just before dinner, while the three

opportu

of us were sitting in the parlor. He
Icaned out unobtrusively from his ch

and dropped the ring and bracelet on
the carpet; there was a crystalline sound
as their metals touched, platinum and
gold; and then the jewels refracted lis
as the pieces settled into the nap of the
carpet. "I reckon. you know what those
are,” he said. "That boy in the third
platoon had that bracelet just two or
three weeks ago, and he sold it to you
1 asked him." He leaned back, his face
quite mild: his eyes were directed out
nto the center of the room.

Those are mine,” Elfrida said then.
"Where did you get them?”

“The baby found 'em," Willy said
softly. "He was playing in your bı
and he turned the bag upsidedown
And I was taking care of the baby...

at that time."

“They were my aunt's,” Elfrida said
“Her husband sent them from Paris in
1940 — after the conquest. Do you sug

‘st—
“I say. T ain't going to suggest. Honey.
you'te fresh out of a husband. 1 ain't
going to argue with yo
buddy" — and here he looked at me,
detachedly— “in a minute I'm going
to take vou outside and whup you until
you can't stand."
ence all around. I tensed myself

against an attack, for Willy was clearly
ready to fight, and I tried to think of
something to say, 1 tried a denial.
"Willy," I said, “it isnt so! It just isn't
so!” He did not bother to look at me
he was staring hard at Flfri
expression now was

"Honey
he said.

“OF course, Willy,” she said, 7
wish me to. Perhaps you should explain
what 1 have done, however. I have done
nothing . . . against you.”

“Deny laying up with that son-ofa-
bitch over there!" Willy roared, and

As for you, old

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got to his feet. “Deny that, you slut!"
I got to my feet, thinking of self-defense

Elfrida turned her head upward, and
agony for a moment exercised her fea
tures; and when she looked down again,
her expression was hard—I had not
seen it like that since the night at the
bridge. “Ah,” she said. “Slut, is it. Still,
I deny everything. That is my policy

“Come to think of it, you aren't out
a husband,” Willy said then, and he was
grinning now. “Listen, I was already
married back in Texas when I went to
the church with you. I couldn't really
marry you. My other wife is in the rec
ords at the county courthouse, in Jim
Clark County . . .

"Yes, 1 know," Elfrida said. "As if
that were a thing you needed to tell me.
Please, you must understand that I have
eyes. 1 saw your w. per; 1
knew you were a husband when vou
came to me—an American husband!
Skillful with a diaper! Willy, don’t be
this way. Why must you teat me so?”
Her expression pleaded with him to be
decent, to he quiet, if necessary to for
give her. Willy had his back to us, and
now he muttered, “Don't try to sweet
talk me out of it.

“I will say what I want to say!" El-
“If I have lost а hus-
band, you have lost а son or a daughter.
Yours; your own, like those of Texas
Willy, I am carrying your child. That is
true.” Her voice was calm, she was not
uying to make a persuasion. She an
nounced the fact, and kept her р

“My child," Willy said, still with his
back to us, and then whirled to face us.
"Mine? Or his? Or anybody's? How
would you know, that will sleep with
anybody that comes along? My child.
Why, you slut, you slut . .

Oh, then!” Elfrida said. “Then!
Listen, peasant as you have always been!
Understand that you wear the horns
please, if I may use our vulgar
pean expression. I, I set them there for
you, in return for your favors to me at
the bridge, you .. . And I have loved
you, in spite of all your vileness . . ."
Her face was the cold, furious face she
had put om at the bridge, alter Willy
had taken his fce. She looked strange to
me, oddly European, as if the scene had.
returned her to a familiar role; and
then Willy, with his head down, said,
“And I loved you. Can't you see? Why
did you have to spoil it? You didn't
have to! What did I do that was so
bad? But I'm damned if I'll apologize
to a woman. Women — what have I
ever got from women but a crooked deal?
Or the clap. Women — sluts. Be damned
if ГІ talk any тоге. You —" and he
pointed an accusing finger at me — "get
your ass outside so we can have it out,
you son-of-a-bitch. Come on; or are you
afraid to get out from behind your
woman's skirts?”

He turned and went out the door, and

frida answered.

I was following him close, for I had a
rage that matched his own; I did not
ve time to speak to Elfrida, but I had
a sense of her, upright, fierce, but some-
how sad, and very weary . . . then I was
outside, in the late afternoon light, and
Willy was waiting for me. We were in
the garden; there were walls about us,
yielding a thick shade streaked here and
there with greenness. I was ready to
start fighting, but Willy had yet a few
things to say. “Old buddy,” he began.
"Ain't you a dandy. Did you think about
friend? I guess. You thought how you
could steal h Didn't it count
for nothing, all that we done during the
war? Old buddy!"

"Don't talk to me like that,” I an-
swered, feeling my rage grow.
you .. . reproach me! You businessman;
you thought you could bargain for love
—for her love. What do they teach you
down there in Texas? That everything
has a price? . . . you businessman!"

"I saved your life,” Willy said, “and
I sure wish I hadn't. If you ain't the
most miserable excuse for a friend...”

“And 1 saved yours, and by God I
never would have done it if I'd known
what it was. Listen, you loan shark, 1
don't regret anything—

And that was all the signal needed;
the fight was on. Willy changed me, head
down, and clearly had it in mind to
butt me, but I timed an uppercut and
caught him perfectly just as he reached
mc, and felt something go, under my
Knuckles. It felt like a thin board,
cracking. I stopped him in his tracks;
he stood up; blood was gushing from his
nose, flooding his lower face; and I had
the sense then to go for the body while
he was forgetting it. I put four or five
good punches in to the belly, one of
them just under the high arch of the
ribs, and I made him gasp. I hurt him
with those punches and, I think, saved
myself from destruction, for 1 slowed
him, and limited him. He came on, and
he had a terrible strength: I could not
keep him off. He could hit and he could
wrestle. One of his righthand punches
very nearly severed my left car from my
head, and later, while we were on the
ground, I think he must have taken the
torn ear in his teeth, for the whole lower
half of it was hanging by a shred when
the fight was over.

1 just managed to hang on, to stay
with him until he was exhausted, and
that was a long time alter the fight
started: we fell apart, finally, like spent
fighting chickens, and sat sprawling on
the ground, staring at cach other. Elfrida
came out, bearing a bowl of water, with
white cloths tucked under her arms,
and her face was white: it looked as if
deafened, for she seemed not quite to
believe the story her ears had brought
her. Distaste, horror showed in the line
of her mouth; she was biting her lip, in
that ancient gesture of dismay. Willy

woman.

looked up, and then shook his head and
drove her away.

“I won't let you touch me,”
nd PH kill you if you touch him.
Tl be all right,” I said, for I was
not more badly hurt than he was. Elfrida
went back to the house, and I stared
at Willy. His face looked as if it had
slipped on his bones — the whole central
part of it had slewed around to the
right. “And ГЇ be watching you,” I
went on. “If you lay a hand on her,
TIL take it out of you

“And II do the same for you!" he
shouted, winced with the move
ment of his jaw. Awkwardly he pawed
at his lower face. Hurt, exhausted, he
did not look at all dismayed; he seemed
almost satisfied, having done what his
code required him to do.

І touched my car very lightly, for I
could feel how perilously it was related
10 me now. It began to hurt, and it
was as if а cord of nerves had been
exposed to the fiery touch of the air.
I was dizzy and sick, but I too felt a
vague satisfaction. In Willy's look as he
held himself against the ground, I saw
something of a virtuous rage now
fied, and it was true that he had been
enlisted in the cause of family and home;
he was feeling justified, that was clear,
and I too felt justified, though for other
reasons. I also felt ashamed — soiled, as
if I had fallen into a pit. I now sat at
the bottom of an unlucky event, star ing
up. and wondering at the bad thi

he said,

and

that had happened to a good fr ship
"Willy, I don't like .. . all this,” I
said
Vaguely he looked at me. “Nah,” he

id.
We were quiet for a time,

l said, "We'd better get back to the
company. It’s going to take a doctor

to put your nose back on its root.”

“And you'd better see somebody with
a sewing kit," Willy said. "That ear's
hanging like a tail, there. T reckon it
hurts, don't i"

“It hurts,” I answered. “I guess your
nose doesn't feel too good, either

“It feels like I got a hole in my face.
That hurts." Slowly he turned his head,
as if testing it to see whether it would
hold together to go?"

“Im ready,” | said. We got up to-
gether, and together looked at the house,
Which was shut up now, and quite blank
to our gaze. Not a sound came from it.
We made our way back to the compan
and it took a long time. We came under
the eye of the platoon leader, and he
ordered us to the battalion aid station
after lecturing us angrily; and at the
battalion aid station we were examined
and then sent back to the division hos-
‚ for our wounds were considered
We were treated like casualties
of the war, and the medical people
seemed almost glad to have us; they had
been without occupation since the peace.

“You ready

We kept silence all the way. We were
three days at the division hospital,
while Willys nose was rebroken and
set, and my car was sewed back to my
head, and we did not speak. Upon our
return to the company, Willy perceived
that I wanted to see Elfri ind told
me that he would not let me go alone.
I then perceived that he too wished to
see Elfrida, and so we went together,
our silence once again resumed. We
looked like wounded soldiers, certainly.
Willy had а ndage that boxed the
center of his face еа mask. and I
wore a handsome affair that fitted my
head like a pirate's bandanna

We walked furiously, and when we
reached our destination, we found an
empty house. Naturally we entered at
the front door, and encountered the
smell of settled dust. We ransacked the
house, and even searched the gardi
and discovered, of the family we sought,
only a wrinkled handkerchief that Willy
said was the grandmother's, and Willy's
leather slippers on a shelf in a closet

He broke silence with that. “She de-
cided we'd never come back," he said,
“and so she left. The Russians are going
to have this city, and she knew it, and
knew we were going

1 could not think of anythü
I could not understand Elfrida’s de
parture: it seemed to me pervers
had left an established safety for the
hazards of the road, and she had left me
nd left Willy, I had to gra We
did not enter into the problem of wh:
we ought to do next; instead, we con
tinued seeking Elfrida. Willy knew of
another German army motorcycle, and
we went on that, Willy driving, and I on
the pillion seat behind him. “Hang on,
Willy said. 1 gripped his sides. and we
flew. I felt like the tail on a kite, and
naturally 1 was alarmed, but 1 welcomed
the feeling. "Turn it on!" I said. We
circled the western edge of the city, as I
grew accustomed to the smell of hot
me, and then we set
about searching the roads that led west-
ward. We tried the Autobahn first, and
then a lesser road; we traveled some
twenty miles on cach before nightfall.
We did not find our lady,
went home sick and discouraged

The next day we rose early, having
made ngements with the platoon
sergeant about being absent from rev.
cille; we set off as before, I embracing
Willy he piloted the fierce little
machine, and we found Elírida not fif-
teen miles from the city, on a lane
running between poplars. This was the
second road we had tried; we could not
help shouting. “There she is!" Willy
said: “There she is — carrying the baby!"
I said, and when we got down from the
machine we were both smilin;

We must have been a strange image
to that family, we who had last appe:

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to them in ferocious combat. Slowly the
family came to us, rallying around the
motorcycle. The little girls were solemn:
Elfrida looked oddly blank, puzzled, and
the older women huddled themselves
behind her.

Hello," Elfrida said. She bowed her
head, and she composed an ima
mourning. She was sad; her
almost sullen. “I do not unde
why you have come after us," she
Things were awkward, then

of

neither of us spoke
other, speculatively
the children and the women, and they
1 walked away from us, the women
touching the children, moving them.
Elfrida shifted the baby boy from her
right arm to her left, and said, "I can
not understand why you together
now.” She looked at each of us in turn,
her gaze steady. “Nothing is possible
now, of course,” she went on. “You will
go home to America. I must go to
Cologne. We are all... quite f;
now."

Her expresion changed; now she
looked resolute — resolute and tired.

l wanted to scc you!” Willy said,
nd stopped; for a moment he looked at
me, as if I might find him the word he
needed. Elfrida gravely turned her eyes
upon him, those large violet eyes, and
they were not without sympathy. Faintly
she nodded; her expression became a lit-
tle quizzical. "So?" she seemed to sa
"After so much living, no more t
this to say?”

"We came together be
of us would let the other
ic.

rida spoke to

part

ase neither
go alone," 1

Ah, naturally," Elida said. "And
will you go back together?"

Silence. Willy looked at the backs
of his hands. I stared at the ground.

“Lam ashamed that I made trouble be-
Elfrida said
comrades,” She held her head h
clearly she was taking
“I feel guilty,” she said.

Willy stirred the dust with the we of
his boot, his face looking s vague

"Don't feel that way, “You
shouldn't.”

tween you “Between
h. and

a punishment.

“We came because we wanted to sce
you again, Willy said suddenly
"He—" and he pointed at me— “he
loves you too, 1 guess. Goddamn him."
Willy was taking courage, though he
was still staring at the ground. "And I
-.. 1 do, too. I wish it all hadn't hap-
pened. We had a good thing, Elfrida!
Wasn't it? You were happy with me.
Why did you

“Ah,” she said. “But perhaps I did
spoil it. I had reasons! Later, of course
She looked at me, just as Willy
had done, for the word that might end
her difficulty. “Now I feel sad. 1 did
not want to leave our house. Sad for

everything; sad to lose everything,
“It didn't have to happen:
stubbornly. “Why did it have
to happen?” We stood about. aimlessly,
as if we truly could not understand. 1
felt my unhappiness expand. and per
haps the others were feeling the same
way: and then I said, "It was in the
cards, Willy. In the cards." Then I felt
better, and 1 sensed a brightening all
around, but there was nothing further
to say, and nothing at all to do. Willy
could not go to Elfrida and ask for-
giveness: for he would not. His nature
would not allow it: and he would hav
to fight his way past me to reach her. I
could not renew my suit, for Willy
would contest any move I made. Elfrida
was, of course, immobilized in the rush
1l had her fam-

Willy

said

of adverse wills, and s
ily to think of.

I do mot quite know my feelings,”
Elfrida said, after a time. "You both
know what 1 can say. We have . . . come
a long way togethe

She waited politely for someone to
; looked at cach of us, and then
1 have loved you both, truly: and
I think I will survive. I think 1 will
choose to survive." carefully, “1
must go to my duties. way
from us, and Willy lifted his right arm,
as if to stay her.

Good luck," I said
оой luck!" Willy echoed, and low-
cred his arm gently.

She went to her family, gathered them
with a word, and started walking agai
toward the west. I noticed that she had
the gait of the pregnant woman now.
and was beginni
belly. She tilted her torso backward. as
she walked, balancing herself agai
the compact, uncertain weight of the
future. The effect was stately. She had a
noble stride, as all about her the chil-
dren moved, skipping and bright, lik
birds, and the women somberly marched
behind.

When she was perhaps a hundred
yards away, she turned and waved, and
then continued on. Willys child was
oing with her, and some sense of that
unhappy fact caused him to say, “There
goes the best wife a man ever had."

The figure began to lose its accidental
qualities then, and seemed only the
figure of a woman, decp-bosomed and
erect. "She's really just what I w
Willy said. “I've been in love with her
all the time!"
Well, so have 1,
nothing.”

While we watched, the family receded
in distance. It dwindled from the view,
and then, as we were beginning to gr
restless, vanished in the shade of pop-
lars.

“Anybody would love her,” 1
‘Anybody that knew her.”

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EPITAPH FOR OBIE

(continued from page 41)
pinpoint eyes stared out of that incred|
bly fat, round face, framed by its le
tooned drapery of jowl, and he said,
should think about nineteen cents per
serving.” One or two of the women
twittered at the absurdity of servin;
ght people with chicken for somethin,
like a dollar and a half, and Obi
laughed quietly. Others laughed when
he did, Obie was widely held to be the
very personification of the jolly fat man

“I think nineteen cents would about
cover it,” he said.

"But it couldn't, Obie,”
women said.

“Ah, but it could, and it does," he
said. “Let me tell you about it" He
poured Armagnac into his coffee and
са it thoughtfully.

"D was driving from Denton this
afternoon,” he said, “and going too fast,
1 suspect, because I had just run over a
big dog, when I saw a cluster of people
and cars ahead of me on the highway,
just beyond the place where seventy
three turns off. you know the gagele of
people standing and cars on and off the
road that means there's been an acci
dent. I hadn't intended to stop, but
when I got close I could sec that it had
been а most unusually amusing accident
A huge tractor-and-trailer outfit had
turned over. And I mean huge. And
what had it been carrying? Grated chick
ens, my dears, crated chickens. About
three thousand of them, I should 5
white leghorns. Fully two thirds of them
were loose. They were squawking their
heads off. They were running back and
forth across the road, stopping to scratch
in the barren dust on the shoulder,
squawking, squawking. Of course, they
had good reason to be
there must have been twenty or thirty
people chasing them. I assure you it was
nilies were in red.

one of the

very funny. Whole

eyed pursuit of these chickens: Mommy,
Daddy,

and the wetnosed young, all
and whooping y once in

- one of them would actually
catch а chicken, despite the stupidity
with which they went about it. The
children were falling down, skinning
г knees and ripping their clothes. It
was very amusing to see.

"After a while I noticed one man who
seemed to be taking no part in the fes-
tivities, He was a ull, thin specimen of
thirty-five or so, his clothes were seedy
and soiled and he was standing near the
trailer which was lying on its side. He
was staring, rather than looking around.
I rather suspected him of being the
driver of the truck, and I went over
and asked him.

“Indeed he had been the driver. 1
spoke to him softly, because I could see
he was on the edge of hysteria, What had
happened? I asked him. He told me. [t

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was a true comedy of errors. He owned
the truck, you see. And he had owned
another, but the bank had repossessed it.
Business was very bad. Finally he had
got the chance to buy this load of leg-
horns on consignment, so to speak. He
had bought them in Holborn, for de-
livery in Danbury, a run of about 800
miles, It had taken just about his last
dollar to close the deal. He couldn't
afford to hire a second driver, and he
couldn't stop to rest, so he had gone to
sleep at the wheel, and here he was, an
hours drive from Danbury, with two
thirds of his cargo loose and rapidly
being grabbed up by the ever-growing
numbers of kindly passers-by, and most
l in their crates, or in
what was left of their crates.

Т attempted. to console this idiot, so
clearly onc of those nulls whose lives are
small disasters run together like beads
on a string. I suggested that after all
there was the insurance. But no. For the
first time in his life he had run a
cargo without insurance. He hadn't had
the money. I shrugged my shoulders. I
remember thinking what a pity he
hadn't been killed in the crash. he was
so obviously ill-suited for life. But ap-
ently he had misinterpreted my early
terest as heartfelt sympathy and he
wanted to reciprocate.

“ Таке a couple of chickens,’ he said.
‘Go ahead, everybody else is."

“That’s very good of you,’ I said,
"but I think not.”

"I suspect the stupid man thought I
couldn't move quickly enough to catch.
a chicken for myself, because he per-
sisted, and finally grabbed a couple of
them for me. 1 was piqued, and by way
of showing him how it was done, 1
scooped up two more. I thanked him, I
flung the poultry into the trunk of my
car, and came along home. And that, my
dears, is why your dinner cost me
ninete

“Didn't the butcher charge you any-
thing for killing them, and plucking and
drawing them?" the girl asked.

"My dear," Obie said, "I am not a
bride. I attend to those uifles myself.
Besides, I must say that the chickens
were already half-dead when I took them
out of the trunk. This has been a warm
day, you know. As a matter of tact, their
being at the point of sullocation re-
minded me of the excellent results
medieval cooks used to get by roasting
fowl alive. So I merely plucked them,
wired them, feet, wings and neck, and
roasted them gently to death with a good
deal of butter-bastin

I should think the silence lasted for
all of a minute, Then the young lady
spoke again.

"These chickens tonight?" she said.
“The ones we ate, you cooked alive?”

“Not altogether,” Obie said jovially.
“I just roasted them to death. Then I
cut them up and put them to stew in the

champagne."

“But how could you?" the girl said.
“How could you?”

Obie laughed, “You are very naive,
child,” he said. “And inconsistent, which
is worse. You don't object to boiling a
lobster to death? What about the trout,
when someone wants him bleu? And the
oyster! How many millions of oysters do
you suppose we eat on the half shell
every year, from tiny Olympias to big fat
Iynnhavens, and every one eaten alive?”

One of the men spoke up.

“It's not the same thing, Obic,” he
said. "You can't compare an oyster with
. Lower form of life, and all.”
‘Nothing of the kind Obie said
“The oyster happens to be mute, that's
all. If oysters could squawk like chick-
ens, if they could scrcam out as they
were being impaled on the fork and
chewed up, I dare say only those few of
us who really do appreciate the good
things of the table would eat them.”

“I hadn't known it was a medieval
custom to cook alive," 1 said.

"Oh, yes,” Obie said, "and not just
fowl. And in the case of some of the
bigger animals, slaughter was slow and
painful. Hogs, for instance, were com-
monly beaten to death, and a long, hard
job it must have been, too. But it was
worth it: the intense pain and excite-
ment caused a great flow of adrenaline
and other vital juices which flavored the
meat and made it tender. All of you
must have noticed tonight that the
chicken we had was exquisitely tender.”

As I remember, no one answered.

1 happened to sec Obie on television
couple of days later. He was
about the dinner, describing i
his audience how to prepare it.

“This poulet à la mode de Pouilly is
what those of you who have been with
me for a time know I call a reserve dish,
he s That means that Jm holding
out, i » one little detail, one
step in the preparation of the dish.
Don't worry, your own poulet à la mode
de Pouilly will be perfectly delicious. It

a

telling

will be almost as good as mine. And
some day, perhaps, I'll tell you the miss-
iple. But it will

ing step. It’s very
surprise you, my dears, indeed it will!”

I don't expect to miss Obie very much.
As I said earlier, I read his obitu
with some little pleasure. The Times
was rather vague about the cause of his
death. An accidental fall, the story said.
The Mirror was more specific. It seems
that Obie slipped in the shower, turned
the mixer on full-hot as he fell, and
broke an ankle. That was the police
theory, at any rate: unable to move, he
had been scalded to death. 1 would be
curious to know how long it took. 1 sup-
pose the time for that sort of thing
would have to be reckoned by weight,
and Obie was probably every ounce of
three hundred. pounds.

AT THE CLUB

(continued from page 38)
drivers this yt The knicker cut is
completely comfortable and practical
for golf. No flapping trouser legs will
upset the strength or of a
drive or the delicacy of an on-the-green
putt. Shirt choices will vary from the
professional solid color two- or three-
button placket shirt to narrow striped
or over-all print fabrics, with the pull-
over always in style. Many of the new
shirts have longer-than-usual tai
prevent their pull-out during play.

For the counuy dubber who prefers
the nineteenth. hole to the first dozen
and a half, the jacke ic-slacks scene is
the one to make. Jacket cut remains
natural shoulder with narrow lapels
and a loose line at the waist. Madras is
big with the emphasis on subdued or
burnished shades. Fabrics ride the range
from linen to silk, mohair to seersucke
and include synthetics — 1
ness and wrinkle being most
important. The 1 also in — worn
with lightweight ties or soft silk asc
Slacks are still narrow and without cults
or pleats. The softer and more muted
tones are preferred in the patterned
pants, the brighter shades in solid stacks.
White is increasingly popular.

hiness, cool-

And for the country clubber who finds
ame's togs
color

tennis his cup of tea, that s;
in their classic nature. Some
s are in evidence, thous
old warhorse cable-stitch red, white
blue sweater now bows in br:
and white. In shorts, white is still rig
(and de rigueur in tournament play), but
there are fine blue and brown striped

straws are colorful and
crushable — can be cached in the pocket
when not in use. The straws sport bold
tropical colored bands which will either
te with the rest of your outfit or
add a bright color accent.

At the beach club, the clothing variety
is the widest ever. Whether downing
cocktails on the te munching lunch
poolside, or partaking in a poker game
on the patio, the direction is always to-
ward complete informality and loose,
ual comfort. Deck pants or shorts are
popular. Shirts may be boatneck, V-
neck, turtle or crew. Most everything
goes — polo shirts or pullovers, wide
stripes or pin stripes, n 1
bold abstracts, conversation prints, flash-
diagonals. In cool clothing, the hot
color combinations are green and white,
reen and gold, brown and white

"There's little new coming out in com-
modorestyle yachting attire. And for
good reason: you can't improve on a
classic. The basic песир remains a yacht-
ing blazer, flannel trousers (either gray

coordi

at figures 1

or white) and an officer's Navy-style
yachting cap. For the seagoing tor
the same outfit will suffice —substitutin,
a white cap. For members of the am
wur crew there are exciting thi
around, Lightweight cotton. sweatshirts
with hoods come in socko
bright yellow, an eye blinking blu
a fire red as well as the usual white. An

colors —
and

adaptation of the old Gloucester fisher-
mans slicker in yellow oilskin lined
with white terry cloth inside the jacket
and hood is snappily designed and func-
tional as can be. Boat-neck shirts in

ety of color patterns and fab-
nas. A Joose-

broad v

rics are ideal seagoing suit

weave fish-net shirt, patterned alter а

n fisherman's model, is a cool

Norwegi:
topper that offers protection from the
E

d but still allows you to sop up the
1

asy m

sun. Deck pants are designed and cut to

give the active boatsman neuver-

ability on board ship.

BEAR RUG EYES

(continued from page 35)
but she wouldn't knock you out face-
wise. Cute lite roll when she walks —
n occupational thing, I guess. But the
main thing is she has these real bear

g
A. Guest and you would still com-
municate.”

"So then?”

“So I say, ‘How about hearing it?" She
says, ‘OK, when?’ Is she bluffing? I say,
‘How about like now?’ "No, she s
got to see about some props for the
show. We're low on pastry.” And her
pretty mouth opens in a chuckle, I fig-
ure, Uh-oh, A snow job. Two bucks’
worth of Chablis down the drain and
7erozero. I guess my [ace showed it.
Then she looks thoughtful and says, ‘But
how about like ish?" Real hip.
ch, Phil? So 1 sive her my address and
call olt . Poker, you
know

“Which is Manda?

“The off-off-Broadway one that thi

ten o'cloc

ks

“But if you don't explain it to me, ГИ pick up a
garbled version from my parents.”

101

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Playboys

Plan for your future!

I'm going to marry her. You met her,
remember? I mean, she practically
bought the old shoes!”

ou could do a helluva lot worse,
dy.”

fan, I lived with this chick for two
months. I know what domesticity with
her would be like. All the time fights,
listening to Stani socks in the
bathroom My, you're a
player, in case you get quizzed.”

“Winner or loser?"

“Loser, a bill and a half. You're dying
10 pull even, in case I got to bust more
dates. I won twenty, so these games
shouldn't seem uneconomic."

“Your friend show up?

“She showed up. A cuckoo! She broke
every damn rule in the book! You know
how every boy's ideal is to find a real
presentable for-fun girl who you can play
like a banjo? Well, this one you play
like a missile. I mean the kind of missile
that really goes off. With a very short
countdown. Га shaved and laid out the
ven a flagon of Chablis, be-

Inciden:

liquor —
cause that's the kind of sport 1
when she knocks at five to ten, Her
coat is hardly off when we're cozying on
the couch watching TV and the hell
with drinks or my Gleason album. The
show is some kind of cowboy jaz and
I'm pointing out boners, like the shadow
falling on one side of the strect one
time and the other side the next time —
this is better than Songs of Solomon,
I've found out — and, well, I wont get
clinical on account of little big-ears on
your switchboard over there. But suffice
to say she's got a very passable, pneu-
matic body and we're improvising like
crazy, the furniture is crashing all around
and the first thing I know my back
is on fire — all over scratches — and she
bit my lip so hard with her pretty little
teeth I had to tell Irma I got into a
fist-fight.
minutes by the clock — before the middle
commercial.”
“Is the fight at the poker game?”
"No, at a bar. ГІ carry the ball on
this. It's safer Man, I tell you, I am
yy wreck after a couple hours?
ssling. Utterly done done. So finally
the set is humming with no picture on
the screen, it’s three in the morning and
I got to boot her the hell out of there.
But this chick is stubborn as well as
energetic. She lives in Newark. Fm
bloody, I ache, but—she knows I got a
car—she wants me to drive her to
Newark! Either that or she stays, she
says. You ever see a girl with no clothes
on stick her chin out and act stubborn?
A real scene. But ] know if I drive her
to Newark there'll be a smashup, sure
She'll attack. me at the toll. booth or
inside the Lincoln Tunnel. The nails on
this cuckoo! Finally, by acting tough, 1
convince her I got a very finicky (finicky!)
roommate that works nights a night-
club and it’s really his pad, so 1 got to be

am —

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nenn tells you \
reach, and put on thick pajamas so
the grooves don't show through, when
Irma staggers in. She's pretty loaded, but
sull rational. But she’s ured, thank God,
so she just waves in a friendly way and
flops into the sack.

“I got no more trouble for the rest of
the night, except that 1
my stomach and the pain in my. back is
killing me so much I can't sleep. Who
eeds it? 1 kept asking myself. In the
norning when she got up she sees me ly-
ng there like a cover for Rugged Adven-
ture, hoping the blood don't show. It
didn't and she swallowed the story how
1 got my lip and waggled off to work. So
that there is why — between loss of epi-
dermis, sunk eyes and big lip — I'm not
eating in public. End of tale. I'm doi
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"Well, listen, Hank. You want to make
it tomorrow? Im free and there's this
script we think needs doctoring and it
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1 can't, Phil. Listen. Can you mail it? И |
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“Hell, you'll be healed by then

1 kind of doubt it. Because the chick
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“Because 1 phoned and asked her."
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"Mr. Forrest? While you were on the
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like you to call back, No message. And
the photos from Famco just came. Shall
1 have them sent in, si

“I you would, Marilyn."

“And one other thing, Mr. Forrest
Will you be going out to lunch at one"

"Yes, but it'll be a quickie.”

“Uh, one more thing, sir.”

“Yes?”

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ETC. 10 DAYS

PLAYBOY

104

PLAYBOY
READER SERVICE

Write to Janet Pilgrim for the
answers to your shopping
questions. She will provide you
with the name of a retail store
in or near your city where you
can buy any of the specialized
items advertised or editorially
featured in PLAYBOY. For
example, where-to-buy
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merchandise of the advertisers
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featured merchandise.

Miss Pilgrim will be happy to
answer any of your other
questions on fashion, travel, food
and drink, hi-fi, ete. If your
question involves items you saw
in PLAYBOY, please Specify

page number and issue of the
magazine as well as a brief
description of the items

when you write.

PLAYBOY READER SERVICE
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MONTH

[13 yrs. for $14
[11 yr. for $6
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PLAYBOY’S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK

BY PATRICK CHASE

bust our or your shell in June for a
vacation afloat — on a U-Drive-It yacht.
A dozen yachtrental firms in the Fort
uderdale and Miami areas can tuck
you in a craft complete with at-home
facilities, from a sea skiff to a sailing
auxiliary cutter. You can rent a new
fourslceper cruiser for the cost of a
de luxe hotel room and roam the coastal
keys from your base of operation — a
[ree mı And, if you prefer so:
to steering, or are unsure of your s
manship, you can hire a captain, too.

While you're down southeast w
make it to Barbados for a very spec
celebration. Queen Bess 11 will be a

r older in April, but her official birth-
day isn't until June (each member of
the Commonwealth picks its own days
to celebrate the event) and thar's when
some of her subjects will begin whoop-
ing it up. Brecze-blown Barbados always
puts on a great show for the occasion,
with special cricket matches, gala par-
ties and sucer dancing almost around
the clock. The Barbados Country Club
will fix you up with digs, meals and such
extra trimmings as pool, golf and tennis
for a microscopic $10 a day. If you'd
prefer, you can rent a private mansion
along the St. James coast for anywhere
from $1000 to $1500 a month, or a
smaller beach house for around $500.
Whichever you choose, you can count
on having a ball.

Since you're so close to South Amer-
ica, take advantage of topllight summer
skiing by spending two weeks at swank
Portillo high in the Chilean Andes. If

NEXT MONTH

you can stay on, try other slopes at
Farellones or La Parva.

On the way to or from Chile, sce
Peru in June. Costumed natives from
the high Andes 30-year-old
Inca rituals and pageants. Inti Raymi.
the Inca ritual of sun worship, is a daz-
zling affair put on at the mountain
fortress of Sacsahuaman near Cuzco with
much of the original pomp and circum-
stance of that earlier civilization. Right
on the outskirts of Lima, the Fiesta de
Amancaes lasts a full week at June's end
and brings regional dancers, foods and
athletes from all corners of the country.

If time's a factor in your June plans,
you just can't beat the Comet 4B jet
liner from London to Moscow. The jet
zips across the 1600-mile route in just
three hours and fifty minutes, enabling
you to arrive in Moscow — thanks to the
three-hour time difference — in just fifty
minutes by the Kremlin clock.

Before you return to the US, you
may want to latch onto а Europea
auto, at a European price. One way to
do this wisely and well is to study the
free 1960 Europe By Car catalog before
you head abroad. You'll find it ci:
with data and photos of the р
English, German, French and
„ induding rates on buying (or
g, while in Europe) and shipping
to the U

For further information on any of the
above, write lo Playboy Reader Service,
232 E. Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois.

re-enact

THE CANNES FILM FESTIVAL—A COLORFUL REPORT ON THE-

RIVIERA'S MOST GALA EVENT

“TROUBLE IN MAKEOUTSVILLE" AN AMUSING NEW NOVELETTE

BY HERBERT GOLD

“REQUIEM FOR RADIO"—JACK ARMSTRONG, THE SHADOW AND
OTHERS NOSTALGICALLY RECALLEO BY CHARLES BEAUMONT

NEW WORK BY IVOR WILLIAMS (AUTHOR OF “THE PIOUS
PORNOGRAPHERS"), ARTHUR C. CLARKE, LARRY SIEGEL,
SHEL SILVERSTEIN, JULES FEIFFER

[MORE JOHNNY'S)
GREATEST HITS

SCHERERAZADE

ELLA FITZGERALD

GRAND CANYON

A, Also: tet train. A Night on Bald 2. Bess, You is My (34 Complete score 30. Bul Net tor Me, — 41. Also songs by 13. Thismusieal por-

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TRIO BRUNO WALTER |

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BROADWAY HITS!

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Taie оја Downes Yesterdays, 9 mo Tep. 8 then

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COLUMBIA RECORD CLUB

invites you to accept this 5th Anniversary Offer
—a special offer which may never be repeated [ouan ma onr

Wü Neri ni tine cast inar E e 1
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BER: : JOHNNIE RAYS

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LIONEL HAMPTON

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if you join the Club now and agree to purchase

FA meum NEE as few as 5 selections from the more than
r at ALONE 200 to be offered during the coming 12 months
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29. Aurore. € Bue oon fools 37. Бю Te, | now makes the most extraordinary ofer in ils history, 27 compte more 24. Seven art Жылу AR. Ny Fury
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Er йшй Миў o eter records up Tos 22400 eal value — ALS for ly $37. A scher Yai esr O Pare

And what a tremendous selection to chose from 52 rec-
ords in all! Whether you prefer classical or popular music,
Broadway hit shows or jazz — you're sure to find five records
to suit your musical taste.

TO RECEIVE 5 RECORDS FOR $1.97 — fill in, detach and mail

Tors ELUNGTON
стт монов.
wie irs

Teny,

¡paa

пе postage oe card al Uwe tl, Be sure W наво Wo je, SEND но MONEY— FILL m, DETACH AND man THiS ba
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88. es e cres An зай. Whee $3 A in per Si Te Man itowe, MSM Musical Comedies; Jen CORD CLUB, Dep Е
E со uo LE EE [Scam HOW THE CLUB OPERATES: Each month the Club's staff of music. T accept your special Sth Anniversary Offer and

fave Ehre at he right ise numbers of the five | T 19

experts selects outstanding recordings for all four Divisions. have dre at he bt tie number of the f

These selections are fully described in the Club's entertaining

| Oklahoma!

e ea nanding charge Eso ie In he follow: | 2 20

Nelson Бау Music Magazine, which you receive free each month, * ]| ine Division of the Clu ais

rae cee corrier Scare You may accept the monthly selection for your Division + | өе one b A
me mei tahe any of the wide variety of other records offered in ll | co Сн a
Divisions .. . or take NO recor in any particular month. | E Broodway, Movies Te ü

Your only obligation as a member is to purchase five selec- lares to purchase five selections from the more
tions from the more than 200 Columbia and ріс records to be cc | 6
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AT. loo, Air for 50, Rodgers £ Нит 56. Ma, Net Mew, ‘Membership at any tne thereafter. H

A Moama mds MEE The recorós you want are mailed and billed to you at the Li
regular list price of $3.88 (Classical and Original Gast selec- D

tions, $498), plus a small mailing and handling charge.
FREE BONUS RECORDS GIVEN REGULARLY: IF you wish to con-

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1 m tinue as а member after purchasing five records, you wil = |
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for every two selections you buy — a 50% dividend, нэ]
E Tits SPECIAL Sth ANNIVERSARY OFFER may ever be repeated! NENE som E E "T
Sammy Kaya s So act now — mail the postege+ree card today! @ EAE a ana HAWA, write pco members | M

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Old Golds Spin filler spins and cools

the smoke to less than body temperature

and the cooler the smoke
he better the taste!

THE BEST TASTE YET IN A FILTER CIGARETTE