It was written under strange circumstances shortly after my first novel was published, and, moreover, it was the first story in which I had a collaborator1. For, finding that I was unable to manage the crap-shooting episode, I turned it over to my wife, who, as a Southern girl, was presumably an expert on the technique and terminology3 of that great sectional pastime.
The Camel’s Back
I suppose that of all the stories I have ever written this one cost me the least travail4 and perhaps gave me the most amusement. As to the labor2 involved, it was written during one day in the city of New Orleans, with the express purpose of buying a platinum5 and diamond wrist watch which cost six hundred dollars. I began it at seven in the morning and finished it at two o’clock the same night. It was published in the “Saturday Evening Post” in 1920, and later included in the O. Henry Memorial Collection for the same year. I like it least of all the stories in this volume.
My amusement was derived6 from the fact that the camel part of the story is literally7 true; in fact, I have a standing8 engagement with the gentleman involved to attend the next fancy-dress party to which we are mutually invited, attired9 as the latter part of the camel — this as a sort of atonement for being his historian.
May Day.
This somewhat unpleasant tale, published as a novelette in the “Smart Set” in July, 1920, relates a series of events which took place in the spring of the previous year. Each of the three events made a great impression upon me. In life they were unrelated, except by the general hysteria of that spring which inaugurated the Age of Jazz, but in my story I have tried, unsuccessfully I fear, to weave them into a pattern — a pattern which would give the effect of those months in New York as they appeared to at least one member of what was then the younger generation.
Porcelain10 and Pink.
“And do you write for any other magazines?” inquired the young lady.
“Oh, yes,” I assured her. “I’ve had some stories and plays in the ‘Smart Set,’ for instance ———”
The young lady shivered.
“The ‘Smart Set’!” she exclaimed. “How can you? Why, they publish stuff about girls in blue bathtubs, and silly things like that”
And I had the magnificent joy of telling her that she was referring to “Porcelain and Pink,” which had appeared there several months before.
Fantasies
The Diamond As Big As the Ritz.
These next stories are written in what, were I of imposing11 stature12, I should call my “second manner.” “The Diamond as Big as the Ritz,” which appeared last summer in the “Smart Set,” was designed utterly13 for my own amusement. I was in that familiar mood characterized by a perfect craving14 for luxury, and the story began as an attempt to feed that craving on imaginary foods.
One well-known critic has been pleased to like this extravaganza better than anything I have written. Personally I prefer “The Offshore15 Pirate.” But, to tamper16 slightly with Lincoln: If you like this sort of thing, this, possibly, is the sort of thing you’ll like.
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
This story was inspired by a remark of Mark Twain’s to the effect that it was a pity that the best part of life came at the beginning and the worst part at the end. By trying the experiment upon only one man in a perfectly17 normal world I have scarcely given his idea a fair trial. Several weeks after completing it, I discovered an almost identical plot in Samuel Butler’s “Note-books.”
The story was published in “Collier’s” last summer and provoked this startling letter from an anonymous18 admirer in Cincinnati:
“Sir —
I have read the story Benjamin Button in Colliers and I wish to say that as a short story writer you would make a good lunatic I have seen many peices of cheese in my life but of all the peices of cheese I have ever seen you are the biggest peice. I hate to waste a peice of stationary19 on you but I will.”
Tarquin of Cheapside.
Written almost six years ago, this story is a product of undergraduate days at Princeton. Considerably20 revised, it was published in the “Smart Set” in 1921. At the time of its conception I had but one idea — to be a poet — and the fact that I was interested in the ring of every phrase, that I dreaded21 the obvious in prose if not in plot, shows throughout. Probably the peculiar22 affection I feel for it depends more upon its age than upon any intrinsic merit.
“O Russet Witch!”
When this was written I had just completed the first draft of my second novel, and a natural reaction made me revel23 in a story wherein none of the characters need be taken seriously. And I’m afraid that I was somewhat carried away by the feeling that there was no ordered scheme to which I must conform. After due consideration, however, I have decided24 to let it stand as it is, although the reader may find himself somewhat puzzled at the time element. I had best say that however the years may have dealt with Merlin Grainger, I myself was thinking always in the present. It was published in the “Metropolitan.”
Unclassified Masterpieces
The Lees of Happiness.
Of this story I can say that it came to me in an irresistible25 form, crying to be written. It will be accused perhaps of being a mere26 piece of sentimentality, but, as I saw it, it was a great deal more. If, therefore, it lacks the ring of sincerity27, or even, of tragedy, the fault rests not with the theme but with my handling of it.
It appeared in the “Chicago Tribune,” and later obtained, I believe, the quadruple gold laurel leaf or some such encomium28 from one of the anthologists who at present swarm29 among us. The gentleman I refer to runs as a rule to stark30 melodramas32 with a volcano or the ghost of John Paul Jones in the role of Nemesis33, melodramas carefully disguised by early paragraphs in Jamesian manner which hint dark and subtle complexities34 to follow. On this order:
“The case of Shaw McPhee, curiously35 enough, had no hearing on the almost incredible attitude of Martin Sulo. This is parenthetical and, to at least three observers, whose names for the present I must conceal36, it seems improbable, etc., etc., etc.,” until the poor rat of fiction is at last forced out into the open and the melodrama31 begins.
Mr. Icky
This has the distinction of being the only magazine piece ever written in a New York hotel. The business was done in a bedroom in the Knickerbocker, and shortly afterward37 that memorable38 hostelry closed its doors forever.
When a fitting period of mourning had elapsed it was published in the “Smart Set.”
Jemina.
Written, like “Tarquin of Cheapside,” while I was at Princeton, this sketch39 was published years later in “Vanity Fair.” For its technique I must apologize to Mr. Stephen Leacock.
I have laughed over it a great deal, especially when I first wrote it, but I can laugh over it no longer. Still, as other people tell me it is amusing, I include it here. It seems to me worth preserving a few years — at least until the ennui40 of changing fashions suppresses me, my books, and it together.
With due apologies for this impossible Table of Contents, I tender these tales of the Jazz Age into the hands of those who read as they run and run as they read.
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1 collaborator | |
n.合作者,协作者 | |
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2 labor | |
n.劳动,努力,工作,劳工;分娩;vi.劳动,努力,苦干;vt.详细分析;麻烦 | |
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3 terminology | |
n.术语;专有名词 | |
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4 travail | |
n.阵痛;努力 | |
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5 platinum | |
n.白金 | |
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6 derived | |
vi.起源;由来;衍生;导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 );(从…中)得到获得;源于;(从…中)提取 | |
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7 literally | |
adv.照字面意义,逐字地;确实 | |
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8 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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9 attired | |
adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服,使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10 porcelain | |
n.瓷;adj.瓷的,瓷制的 | |
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11 imposing | |
adj.使人难忘的,壮丽的,堂皇的,雄伟的 | |
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12 stature | |
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材 | |
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13 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
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14 craving | |
n.渴望,热望 | |
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15 offshore | |
adj.海面的,吹向海面的;adv.向海面 | |
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16 tamper | |
v.干预,玩弄,贿赂,窜改,削弱,损害 | |
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17 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
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18 anonymous | |
adj.无名的;匿名的;无特色的 | |
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19 stationary | |
adj.固定的,静止不动的 | |
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20 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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21 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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22 peculiar | |
adj.古怪的,异常的;特殊的,特有的 | |
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23 revel | |
vi.狂欢作乐,陶醉;n.作乐,狂欢 | |
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24 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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25 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
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26 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
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27 sincerity | |
n.真诚,诚意;真实 | |
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28 encomium | |
n.赞颂;颂词 | |
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29 swarm | |
n.(昆虫)等一大群;vi.成群飞舞;蜂拥而入 | |
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30 stark | |
adj.荒凉的;严酷的;完全的;adv.完全地 | |
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31 melodrama | |
n.音乐剧;情节剧 | |
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32 melodramas | |
情节剧( melodrama的名词复数 ) | |
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33 nemesis | |
n.给以报应者,复仇者,难以对付的敌手 | |
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34 complexities | |
复杂性(complexity的名词复数); 复杂的事物 | |
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35 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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36 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
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37 afterward | |
adv.后来;以后 | |
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38 memorable | |
adj.值得回忆的,难忘的,特别的,显著的 | |
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39 sketch | |
n.草图;梗概;素描;v.素描;概述 | |
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40 ennui | |
n.怠倦,无聊 | |
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