But I don’t. I don’t feel very playful at the moment. I feel upset.
He says, “I can tell you one thing. I wouldn’t want to eat a meal with these people.”
My mind flashes into history. Yes, people like this reporter go way back . . . back to the time when Jesus lived . . . you know, Jesus, that guy, the guy who was Jesus before they had Christianity, the guy who used to have a lot of parties and he’d invite EVERYBODY. He’d invite people who had jobs the “successful” folks did not approve of. Like prostitutes and tax collectors. Or people with no jobs. People who were labeled “sinners” because they lacked affluence and power and politics. He liked people who disobeyed the customs, disobeyed the laws, and noisy eaters and blasphemers and those of “other” customs. And he invited the big shots, priests, and big landowners. And he said (my translation): “I just kinda like all people. I know their gifts. I know their grace. All people are good company. Even the rich have redeeming qualities. All of you! Come have supper. Welcome! Come eat and drink and chat and let’s know each other to the bone. We are one.”
But you know, the priests and big landowners and well-paid people and those that wanted to seem well-paid . . . they refused to eat with Jesus because of the company he kept. They were appalled that a “decent sort” like Jesus would eat at the same table with “sinners.”
I dearly believe that the arts must be like this, too. Unconditional welcome.
9
ACTUALLY, THE CHANGES I made in this “finished” version are not earth-shattering. I messed with sentences I felt were overwritten or underwritten. I corrected some factual errors, like how one raises the hood of a Lincoln. Little stuff. And quiet, eensie, subtle differences in the nap scene. So the writing feels smoothed out some. But what values a reader has, what a reader sees as “riches,” cannot be erased or fixed, no matter how hard I wish. So this postscript has given me a chance to let you in on some of the things I’ve learned since writing Beans, and, together with the changes inside the book, I hope it helps you, too, sense a completion.
10
MY EDITOR, Cork Smith, used to hate it when I said Beans was a bad book. My reply to his objections was, “But, Cork, it is a bad book. Great editor, bad book.” An unfinished book. And an editor who has given me room to take risks. I am grateful that he didn’t push me to do a better book in 1984. He always allows me to “own” my work. He has always treated me like a professional. This has made me fearless to explore, to push, to go very deep. I think of this new and improved finished version of Beans as part of the growth Cork has allowed.
And as ever, thank you, Jane Gelfman, one classy agent.
And Diane Sterling, editor with VERY sharp eyes. Thank you.
And I thank you readers who are giving this new Beans a chance. And who have given even more of your time to listening to this “speech.” Some feel an author shouldn’t have the right to “explain things” after a book has gone out into the world. But with your generosity, it is done . . . we break rules together.
The Beans of Egypt, Maine Page 21
