Myra Breckinridge

by Gore Vidal

  Both Randolph and I felt a good deal better at the sight of the loot: three hundred and fifty thousand dollars is more than enough to finance me for the next few years while I finish Myron’s work and begin my own. Yes, I have decided to make an investigation in depth of the problem of communication in the post-McLuhan world. Each day that I spend in the company of the students makes me more than ever aware that a new world is being born without a single reliable witness except me. I alone have the intuition as well as the profound grasp of philosophy and psychology to trace for man not only what he is but what he must become, once he has ceased to be confined to a single sexual role, to a single person once he has become free to blend with others, to exchange personalities with both men and women, to play out the most elaborate of dreams in a world where there will soon be no limits to the human spirit’s play. As I have been goddess, so others can be whatever they want in this vast theatre we call the world where all bodies and all minds will one day be at the disposal of everyone, and no one will read books for that is a solitary activity like going to the bathroom alone (it is the proliferation of private bathrooms, which has, more than anything else, created modern man’s sense of alienation from others of his kind: our ancestors bathed and shat together and, all in all, relished the sharing of their common natural functions) or like making love alone if there are others available to share the body’s pleasures. I see this new world whose prophetess I am as clearly as I see this page on which I scribble random notes while waiting for Buck and Charlie Flagler Junior to return from their telephoning in the next office.

  I have made up my mind to continue teaching here, if Buck will have me . . . which I doubt. Yet I must make the effort to charm him, if it is not too late, for not only am I able to observe and learn from the students but they in turn profit from me. Without the Academy, I would have to invent an equivalent, a place in which to shape the minds of the young, particularly the boys who crave discipline. Yet, oddly enough, since that night of nights in the infirmary all my desires to dominate the male have been—if not satisfied—in abeyance, a true breakthrough, according to Randolph, though he still believes that I went too far and may have damaged Rusty’s capacity to love women, to which I responded, “That is exactly what I wanted to do, to teach him fear.”

  “But why? Why not teach him love?” There are times when Randolph is singularly dense.

  “Because only through a traumatic shock, through terrifying and humiliating him, could I hope to change his view of what is proper masculine behavior. To keep him from breeding, and so adding to the world’s overpopulation, I was forced to violate everything he has been taught to regard as sacred, including the sanctity of his tiny back door . . .”

  Randolph looked suddenly queasy. “Please, Myra, you know how any explicit reference to the anal upsets me. The fault is mine, or weakness I should say,” he added quickly, anticipating one of my sharp rejoinders. “But tell me, is there any evidence that your tormenting of him has had any effect at all, good or bad?”

  “He quarreled with Mary-Ann . . .”

  “A passing fit of ill-temper . . .”

  “Not passing. He’s left her for Letitia Van Allen.” Candid as I always am with Randolph, I have not yet told him the entire story of my maneuvering to keep Rusty and Mary-Ann apart. There is evidence that Rusty is still in love with Mary-Ann. Fortunately she will not, in her present mood, have anything to do with him and I am certain that as long as she is with me I can prolong that mood for quite some time. Also, the fact that Mary-Ann is living with the woman who raped him will unconsciously identify her with me in Rusty’s mind; if nothing else, this connection should help to maintain the current distance between the lovers. “And from what Letitia tells me, his lovemaking has been dramatically improved as a result of what I did to him.”

  “How would you know? He never made love to you.”

  “Mary-Ann has told me that he was always extremely gentle with her . . . she has a childhood trauma and cannot bear rough lovemaking and so, in time, will be drawn to women who are gentle. But with Letitia, he is a rampaging bull, knocking her about and otherwise getting back at me through her, to her delight of course.”

  “Interesting” was all that Randolph had to say on the subject. But I can tell that he is impressed at what I have accomplished even though, being a Jew and a dentist, he can never wholeheartedly accept my new order for the human race since the fluidity which I demand of the sexes is diametrically opposed to Mosaic solidity. Yet I am right, for it is demonstrably true that desire can take as many shapes as there are containers. Yet what one pours into those containers is always the same inchoate human passion, entirely lacking in definition until what holds it shapes it. So let us break the world’s pots, and allow the stuff of desire to flow and intermingle in one great viscous sea . . .

  The door just opened. I keep my head down, continuing to write, pretending to be occupied and not at all eager. From the corner of my eye I can see two human sections approach. One section is brown (Buck) and one is blue (Charlie Flagler Junior). I don’t look up. Buck says: “Myron Breckinridge is not dead.”

  BUCK LONER REPORTS—

  Recording Disc No.808—

  l April

  Oh God I dont know if I can stand it dont know if I can go on its just not worth it reminder cancel masseuse for rest of week period paragraph they just left I dont know what to do not that theres anything I can do caught by the short hairs by the fickle finger of fate we thought we had them when this detective in New York came up with absolute proof that that fag nephew of mine was not dead because there never was any death certificate issued and New York City is a place where you cant screw around with that sort of thing unlike down old Mexico way well Myra who had been sitting at my desk pretending to write letters sat up real smart and said quote I say hes dead and that means hes dead to which statement Charlie Flagler Junior replies thinking he has got her over the barrel at last not knowing its his turn inside the barrel quote its not what you say Mrs Breckinridge its what the police and the city records say and they say your husband is alive and so his will cant be probated unquote well she smiled this funny smile and says quote the body was never found thats true but he was drowned while cruising the Staten Island ferry unquote there is says Flagler Junior not one iota of evidence he is dead so we are not paying you one single penny until your husband shows up to collect his share of Mrs Gertrude Percy Breckinridges estate unquote then Myra looks at that fat Jew doctor who is blowing ashes all over my brand new wall to wall carpeting and she says I quote Randolph I guess this is the moment of truth unquote and he nods and allows that maybe shes right and then so help me god she stands up and hikes up her dress and pulls down her goddam panties and shows us this scar where cock and balls should be and says quote Uncle Buck I am Myron Breckinridge unquote period paragraph I like to have fainted at the sight not to mention the news Flagler Junior just stood there his mouth wide open then Myra or Myron says quote Randolph can testify to all this because he was my analyst before the operation which killed Myron and gave birth to me Myra unquote the Doc agreed saying I quote I should also add that I never approved of this operation but Myron was my friend as well as patient and so when I saw that there was nothing I could do to talk him out of this extreme gesture I arranged for the best surgeon in Copenhagen to perform the operation two years ago this spring unquote by then Flagler Junior had got back some of his cool I dont he said quote believe one word of this story so whoever you are you may have been a man once but how do we know that that man was Buck Loners nephew Myron question mark unquote well that bitch was ready for that one she opens her handbag with a smirk and says I quote we had two plans Uncle Buck one was to get you to accept me as Myrons widow the other was to prove to you that I used to be Myron here are Myrons fingerprints from the FBI when he was fingerprinted as a small boy while visiting the nations capital with a Boy Scout troop you are free at any time to check these prints with my own unquote well thats the ball gam
e I said to Flagler Junior who still made noises about how did we know the prints were the same and not just another bluff so I said I accept the fact that this is my nephew Myron with his balls cut off like a year old steer God help us all end quote why Uncle Buck said that thing quote I am going to kiss you unquote and Buck Loner who has never been kissed by a man except by Leo Carrillo in a flick and is all male as the East West Home Massage Service can almost daily testify allowed himself to be kissed by that goddam thing that creep that capon oh screams Myron after he has got his goddam lipstick all over my ear I knew wed be great friends one day ever since I used to see every single picture you ever made and wrote you all those fan letters yes I said I sure remember those letters and I told Gertrude that you were obviously bright as they come so now Myron no no no it says to me Im Myra Myron is dead as a doornail why when I lost those ugly things it was like a ship losing its anchor and Ive been sailing ever since havent I Randolph free as a bird and perfectly happy in being the most extraordinary woman in the world unquote well what can you say to that question mark I said nothing but just handed her the check which she put in her handbag Ill cash it this afternoon he she said oh he she was bright as can be all smiles now that the moolah has been handed over but then on top of that she delivers the whammy quote you know Uncle Buck we make a wonderful team together you and I and so I thought if you didnt mind that Id just keep on teaching here for the rest of the year after all youve got to admit that Ive done well and now that Letitia Van Allen is my best girl friend I can help the students achieve real stardom end quote well I tried to be as polite as possible under the circumstances and so I said quote Myron Myra that is a wonderful thing of you to offer me your services here and theres no doubt about it but that youre a crackerjack teacher a little strict maybe and sometimes maybe a mite too sharp in what you say but all in all youve been a real asset to the Academy as I am the first to admit only thing is weve got two former teachers returning who have like tenure and one wants to take over Posture and the other Empathy well she was not about to be conned I quote apparently what youre trying to say Myra said in this awful low voice she sometimes uses that now I recognize is a mans voice quote is that you dont want me here at all end quote now Myron Myra I said thats not true only with these two coming back but I was interrupted again when Myron came up to me and grabbed me by the collar that little bastard is strong as they come ball less or not listen Buck he says tough as nails quote if you dont give me a job I am going to announce to the world that Buck Loners nephew became his niece two years ago in Copenhagen and that will fix your wagon in this town unquote thats blackmail said Flagler junior but nobody paid him any mind OK Myra I said you win end quote then she was all smiles again I knew youd do the right thing Uncle Buck and I can help you I really can Jesus God what am I going to do now with this mad freak taking over my life and running the Academy that I built up on dreams and hopes which she believes in destroying by telling everybody whats wrong with him if I could get away with it I would kill her strike that period paragraph

  37

  Tomorrow is moving day. I have rented a house just above Santa Monica Canyon. A superb view of the Pacific Palisades somewhat compensates for the inevitable view of that despicable body of water, drowning the horizon to the west and all Asia.

  So now I sit for the last time looking out upon the giant turning woman who holds her sombrero like a benediction over those who pass beneath her on the Strip.

  I am not at all certain what to do about Mary-Ann. I know that I want her to live with me always. I know that I want to possess her entirely, body as well as mind; yet I puzzle myself, and Randolph has been no help at all. He has, incidentally, decided to stay on for one more week but of course that one week will become a lifetime. He is made for Hollywood and Hollywood is made for him, particularly now that he has discovered the Wil Wright Ice Cream Parlors.

  This morning Randolph again challenged my theory of sex. He maintains that the desire to possess another person’s body simply as a means of achieving power is only one part of an infinitely complex response. To a point, I agree with him. It is of course true that, power aside, a certain amount of tenderness is necessary in human relations. Myron never understood this and it is possible that no man really can. Yet we women are instinctively tender, even when we are achieving total dominion. As a woman, I was touched by Rusty’s tears. I even experienced a maternal warmth while tidying up his poor bloody bottom. That is woman’s role, to make the wound and then to heal it. Not for nothing do the earliest of myths depict us as Fate itself, attending the male from swaddling clothes to winding sheet. But there has been nothing in my experience which has quite prepared me for Mary-Ann. Of course she is unique in her charm, her beauty, her womanliness. I have never known a girl who could arouse in me so many conflicting emotions. Even the uterine mysteries, so deplored by Myron, are now for me the be-all and end-all, the center to which one must return and not simply in search of Rusty’s phallic track but for the sake of the journey itself to the very source of life.

  We had dinner tonight with Letitia at Scandia, an excellent restaurant on the Strip where Scandinavian food is served to a most elegant clientele, among whom I counted four bona fide stars of the Forties.

  It took me an entire day to talk Mary-Ann into having dinner with Letitia, whom she regards as “the other woman.” She only agreed when I assured her that Letitia was the one being used by Rusty, not the other way around. Letitia and I had agreed on this approach when I saw her briefly this afternoon at the office. The poor woman’s arm was in a sling but otherwise she was in splendid form. “He sprained it last night!” she exclaimed fondly. “I thought he was going to break every bone in my body!”

  “And you really enjoy that?” It seemed to me incredible that a fellow goddess could endure such treatment from a mere man.

  “I never knew what sex was until that little bastard moved in. Four, five times a night on the floor, on the beach, in the damned bathtub!” She looked misty at the recollection. My own experience of that small limp rose was obviously not the entire truth.

  Then Letitia congratulated me on my appointment as co-director of the Academy. The announcement appeared in all the trade papers last Monday and so I am now, to my amusement, a figure in the world of show biz—which of course has only the most shadowy of connections with the world of mythic films.

  “Yes, Uncle Buck and I seem to be getting on better.” Buck has, in fact, completely surrendered and for the past week I have been running the Academy. As a result, morale is infinitely higher at every level. Even Dark Laughter found creative some of my suggestions for including Dionysian elements in his Atavistic Rhythm classes. Morning, noon and night I am Rosalind Russell, efficient girl executive, and the students are the better for my constant brisk encouragement.

  I came to the point. “As you know, Mary-Ann is living with me. Now don’t smile like that, nothing dikey has happened or will. But I do feel responsible for the poor kid. And that’s why I’d like to know just what Rusty is going to do about her.”

  “Not a damned thing if I can help it.” Letitia was hard as nails. “I’m hanging onto that stud for as long as I can.”

  “That suits me. But what about him?”

  “Mr. Martinson!” Letitia gave a laugh which started out to be tinkling but quickly became not unlike the minatory rattle of a leper’s bell. I should have known that Letitia would be as clever as I. She, too, has Rusty by the balls. “We’re on good terms, Mr. Martinson and I, and he thinks if anybody can make something of the boy it will be me.”

  “So if Rusty decides to stray . . .”

  “Mr. Martinson will bring him back.” Letitia sighed contentedly. Then she frowned. “But there’s no doubt about it, he’s still interested in Mary-Ann, even though he can’t get over the fact that she’s living with you. He absolutely hates you, darling. Why? He won’t tell me.”

  “And never will.” I daresay I looked as pleased as I felt. “Anyway, that’s all in
the past. Now I want you to have dinner with Mary-Ann and me and I want you to convince her that Rusty was just using you and that now he’s off with someone else.”

  Letitia wondered if this was a wise tactic. I assured her that it was, and I was right. Our dinner at Scandia was a success. Mary-Ann got tiddly on snaps and, all in all, we were like three schoolgirls on the town. Mary-Ann soon forgave Letitia. “I understand what you must’ve felt. I mean, he’s the most wonderful boy there is and I don’t suppose any woman could resist him.”

  “I tried,” said Letitia solemnly, stroking her sprained arm in its sling. “God knows I tried.”

  “I guess it was too much for me to hope to keep him.” Mary-Ann was close to tears but we both did our best to cheer her up, assuring her of future boyfriends not to mention the prospect of stardom which Letitia dangled before our eyes, a dream made all the more palpable by the sudden appearance of a major television personality who embraced Letitia and complained, “You never call me!” Mary-Ann and I were duly impressed by this public display of Letitia’s greatness, and flattered that we are now her friends.

  After saying good night to Letitia, Mary-Ann and I came back to the apartment. We are both a little sad at the thought of leaving our first home together. But we are also excited at the thought of the new house, particularly the soundproofed music room where Mary-Ann will practice. She has become, suddenly, grimly ambitious. She means to be a major star and if she does not attain at least the magnitude of Susanna Foster my name is not Myra Breckinridge. In fact, according to Miss Cluff, there is a thrilling new quality to Mary-Ann’s voice which “I’m sure staying with you and receiving a woman’s love and guidance has given her.” Miss Cluff giggled despite my coldness, for I do not want her—or anybody—to think that either of us is one of les girls. I must protect Mary-Ann. I must also protect myself since I can never rule out the possibility that some day I shall find that perfect man who will totally resist me and so win my love, and hand in marriage.