(GK: Garrison Keillor; SS: Sue Scott; TR: Tim Russell; TK: Tom Keith)
.......a message from the Profession of English Majors. (MUSIC)
GK: I'm an English major and proud of it, but I don't belong to a book club because the books that book clubbers choose are books I read two pages of and throw in the trash---- (BOOK THROWN INTO TRASH BIN). Some people are horrified to see a book thrown in the trash, so I use a shredder. (SHREDDER) See that little hill beside my driveway? That used to be a ditch. Filled it in with books.
What turns me off in books? I hate the poetic sentence. Like, "The sumac leaves rippled unimaginably in lazy arabesques tipping forward like surreptitious pigeons and susurrating ----" Just the word "susurrating" puts me off. (BOOK THROWN INTO SHREDDER) I hate that. Long descriptions. Lyricism. I hate that. Here's an opening line from a pretty darned good book.
TR: "Monday morning, Harry woke up in a sweat, wondering where Lou Ann had gone to with the shotgun. And where in Sam Hill had they put Mr. Buchanan's body?"
GK: I love books that get you right into the story. No dithering. No stargazing.
SS: "Her delicate fingers ran up his chest like little mice and unbuttoned his shirt as her breath came in short sharp gasps."
GK: You know, there's a reason that best sellers sell better than other books. It's because they get you where you want to go. If Jackie Collins had written Madame Bovary, Emma would've
gotten a hefty divorce settlement and moved to the Riviera and had so many lovers, she'd be known as Madame Ovary. The main problem with high-class fiction is lack of action, lack of pizzazz. People sitting around dithering. Like this guy.
TR (BRIT ACTOR): To be or not to be: that is the question:
Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune-----
TK (OFF): Hey! When does the show start???
TR (BRIT ACTOR): Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die; to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end----
TK (OFF): You want to see some slings and arrows??
TR (BRIT ACTOR): ....the heartaches and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep;
TK (OFF): Aw, shuddup!
(FLINGING TOMATOES, ROCKS. TR DISGUST, THEN PANIC. TK & SS RIOT MOB. TR PANIC, THEN STARTS TO RUN. RUNS OUT DOOR, SLAM. DOWN STAIRS. ALONG ALLEY, CHASED BY A DOG. JUMPS INTO CAR. STARTS, PULLS AWAY. SCREECH OF TIRES AROUND CORNER, CAR FADES, THEN BIG EXPLOSION.)
(DARK CHORDS)
GK: See how putting some action in gave rhythm and movement to that scene? Cut to the chase, I say. Stop the yik-yakking. Walden, by Henry David Thoreau, 200 pages of a guy talking to himself. What the book needs is for somebody to walk into the cabin and talk and Thoreau to shut up and listen-----
TR: (NEW ENGLAND) If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours.
SS (SULTRY): Hey. Hank. You're not the only one with dreams, baby. Wanta know what kinda life --- I imagine?
TR (NEW ENGLAND): I've come to the woods because I wish to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see---
SS (SULTRY): You interested in the facts of life, Hank?-----
TR (NEW ENGLAND): Why----- you're----
SS (SULTRY): Yes I am. Let's go down to the pond, babes. (CHORDS)
GK: This is what makes literature. Literature is not preaching. It's stories. Stories involve conflict. Stories are not about reverie. About looking at flowers.
SS: I heard a fly buzz when I died,
And then---- (FLY BUZZING, CIRCLING, THEN STOPS)
I heard a fly buzz when I died,
And so----- (FLY BUZZING, CIRCLING. THEN A LOUD WHACK. FLY BUZZING. STOP.)
I heard a---- (FLY BUZZING, CIRCLING. THEN GUNSHOT. THEN FLY BUZZING, CIRCLING, THEN STOP.)
(FOOTSTEPS. OPEN, CLOSE DOOR. FOOTSTEPS. SCRAPE OF CHAIR.)
I heard a fly buzz when I died------ (FLY BUZZING, CIRCLING. THEN EXPLOSION. SILENCE. THEN FLY BUZZING)
(HORSES HOOVES APPROACH. TR WHOAAAA! HOOVES STOP. WHINNYING)
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me.
TR: Hi, babes.
SS: The Carriage held but just ourselves
And immortality.
TR: Ckkkkk, ckkkkk. (HOOVES) (FLY BUZZING)
SS: Ourselves and immortality ---------- and a fly.
(FLY BUZZING. HORSE WHINNY AND PANIC. GALLOP INTO DISTANCE)
GK: You see how that picks up the pace of the poem? Cut to the chase. Don't sit around looking at a rainbow and thinking about the grandeur of life. That's not what literature is about. It's about conflict.
TR (JESSE): What do you know about it, turkey neck? You don't know nothing, peabrain. (WHACK, TR JESSE SINKS INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS)
GK: Conflict. That's where we find art. And how about in your family? Things been a little quiet lately? You been compromising too much and not getting enough fulfillment? Cut to the chase.
SS: I'm not going to college, Dad. I'm dropping out.
TR: You listen to me, young lady. You're gonna graduate in two weeks and I'm going to watch you cross the stage and pick up that B.A. ---- or else.
SS: I won't. I'm going to walk out on $45,000 in debt and travel to Europe with Todd.
TR: You're going to walk out on my investment and go off with an idiot? Over my dead body.
SS: You can't stop me! (SWORDPLAY)
TR: We'll see about that!
SS: And I'm taking the car.
TR: You'll have to kill me first!
SS: So be it! (SWORDFIGHT)
GK: A message from the Profession of English Majors. (MUSIC OUT)
© Garrison Keillor 2002