Anne looked at Rodin's masterpiece, said slowly, «When I first saw it, I thought it was horrible. But I have come to the conclusion that it may be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.»
«Thanks. That's all.» She left. «Want to argue, Ben?»
«Huh? When I argue with Anne, that day I turn in my suit. But I don't grok it.»
«Attend me, Ben. Anybody can see a pretty girl. An artist can look at a pretty girl and see the old woman she will become. A better artist can look at an old woman and see the pretty girl she used to be. A
Ben looked a her. Presently Jubal said gruffly, «All right, blow your nose. Come sit down.»
«No,» Caxton answered. «How about this one? I see it's a girl. But why tie her up like a pretzel?»
Jubal looked at the replica «Caryatid Who Has Fallen under Her Stone.» «I won't expect you to appreciate the masses which make that figure much more than a “pretzel” — but you can appreciate what Rodin was saying. What do people get out of looking at a crucifix?»
«You know I don't go to church.»
«Still, you must know that representations of the Crucifixion are usually atrocious — and ones in churches are the worst … blood like catsup and that ex-carpenter portrayed as if He were a pansy … which He certainly was
«Jubal, I thought you weren't a Christian?»
«Does that make me blind to human emotion? The crum miest plaster crucifix can evoke emotions in the human heart so strong that many have died for them. The artistry with which such a symbol is wrought is irrelevant. Here we have another emotional symbol — but wrought with exquisite artistry. Ben, for three thousand years architects designed buildings with columns shaped as female figures. At last Rodin pointed out that this was work too heavy for a girl. He didn't say, “Look, you jerks, if you must do this, make it a brawny male figure”. No, he
«But she's more than good art denouncing bad art; she's a symbol for every woman who ever shouldered a load too heavy. But not alone women — this symbol means every man and woman who ever sweated out life in uncomplaining fortitude until they crumpled under their loads. It's courage, Ben, and victory.»
«“Victory”?»
«Victory in defeat, there is none higher. She didn't give up, Ben; she's still trying to lift that stone after it has crushed her. She's a father working while cancer eats away his insides, to bring home one more pay check. She's a twelve-year-old trying to mother her brothers and sisters because mama had to go to Heaven. She's a switchboard operator sticking to her post while smoke chokes her and fire cuts off her escape. She's all the unsung heroes who couldn't make it but never quit. Come. Salute as you pass and come see my Little Mermaid.»
Ben took him literally; Jubal made no comment. «Now this,» he said, «is one Mike didn't give to me. I haven't told Mike why I got it… since it is self-evident that it's one of the most delightful compositions ever wrought by the eye and hand of man.»
«This one I don't need explained — it's
«Which is excuse enough, as with kittens and butterflies. But there is more. She's not quite a mermaid — see? — nor is she human. She sits on land, where she has chosen to stay … and stares eternally out to sea, forever lonely for what she left. You know the story?»
«Hans Christian Andersen.»
«Yes. She sits by the haven of København — and she's everybody who ever made a difficult choice. She doesn't regret it but she must pay for it; every choice must be paid for. The cost is not only endless homesickness. She can never be quite human; when she uses her dearly bought feet, every step is on sharp knives. Ben, I think that Mike walks always on knives — but don't tell him I said so.»
«I won't. I'd rather look at her and not think about knives.»
«She's a little darling, isn't she? How would you like to coax her into bed? She would be lively as a seal, and as slippery.»
«Cripes! You're an evil old man, Jubal.»