The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923)Various
General
The Yale Literary Magazine (Vol. LXXXIX, No. 1, 1923)
Various
College students' writings, American -- Connecticut -- New Haven -- Periodicals; Yale University -- Periodicals
It almost made him, as a person, not ring true. His rôle was too exact.
Occasionally one would find one’s-self looking intently at his serious,
childish face--and wondering if there were not something behind it
besides a fund of geniality. He was too much of a cheerful background;
too understanding of the weaknesses of his neighbors; and in his humor
far too thorough not to be sometimes suspected to unreality. But it
was a passing doubt at best, and quite conceivably the product of our
imaginations as we looked backward from a later date. At any rate, he
was enjoyed and respected as a very rare personage indeed: a friend of
everyone alike, though no one in particular. You might have described
him to a perfect stranger as “a very amusing person”, but if he was
mentioned you really did not feel that way yourself. You did not think
of him as a person at all, in fact, but as the thing he was, or stood
for, as though he were the representative of something.
But it seems that fate had written that the Pan Jandrum--the wise and
genial Pan Jandrum--the Great Pan Jandrum himself, was riding, all this
time, for a fall.
Fortunately, I was away when it happened, as I should not like to have
seen it. For it is certain I should have shared the curiously intense
feeling of revulsion--or rather simply depression that settled upon
the community afterward. Several things contributed to the effect of
the event, chief of which was, of course, its publicity. Had he not
chosen the particular evening he did to cast aside every vestige of
self-control, no one might have known. But Mrs. Joe-Billy happened, on
that winter night, to be giving a dinner at her big house up on the
hill to which the Great Pan Jandrum had been invited, and from which he
stayed, for a time, conspicuously and unaccountably absent.
Whether he was accidentally started by some inadvertent friend, or
whether he deliberately wished to enjoy himself, I do not know. Perhaps
he was just tired of his heroic rôle: that is, of our ridiculous yet
touching attitude toward him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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