Authors: Madeleine L'engle
The Joys of Love (24 page)
“How did you meet him, Ditta?” Elizabeth asked, feeling that she ought not to be looking at Ditta's face partly hidden by the grass, her eyes closed, because as Ditta talked her face changed and mirrored what she was feeling, and it was suddenly as though the usually well-disciplined face was undressed, as though Ditta had taken off her daily covering of control and was inadvertently letting Elizabeth see something intensely private. And at the same time that Elizabeth felt she ought to look away she also knew that she had to watch. She had to watch Ditta not only because instead of seeming plain and drab Ditta was beautiful in the same way that a leaf covered with dew is beautiful, or a hollyhock searching upwards toward the sky, or anything reaching out fully toward life is
beautiful; but she had to watch Ditta in the same way that she watched Valborg Andersen on the stage, or Jane working on a part, or studied a spider spinning a web, or read Marlowe's
Edward II
, or listened to Bach on the radio, or felt the way each grain of sand pushed up between her toes on the beach and each wave reached out to touch her body in the ocean. She had to watch Ditta this way because it was the way she learned; this was what taught her to act. One part of her was listening to Ditta and feeling the sharp thrust of Ditta's pain, and another part of her was excited and very aware and trying to store up the inner quality of everything that Ditta was saying and doing.
beautiful; but she had to watch Ditta in the same way that she watched Valborg Andersen on the stage, or Jane working on a part, or studied a spider spinning a web, or read Marlowe's
Edward II
, or listened to Bach on the radio, or felt the way each grain of sand pushed up between her toes on the beach and each wave reached out to touch her body in the ocean. She had to watch Ditta this way because it was the way she learned; this was what taught her to act. One part of her was listening to Ditta and feeling the sharp thrust of Ditta's pain, and another part of her was excited and very aware and trying to store up the inner quality of everything that Ditta was saying and doing.
Once, Mariella Hedeman had asked the apprentices how you could tell an actor from anybody else; satisfied with none of their answers, she told them that it was because an actor had to be more alive than other people. An actor walking down the street and seeing a blind man
was
for the moment that blind man; or seeing the tragedy behind the gaudy trappings of a prostitute, he was that prostitute. And because an actor merged himself into other people's personalities, he was the first to help the blind man across the street, to offer his seat to an old woman on the bus. You could tell an actor because he was a greater participator in life than anyone else. “Nice, though a bit romantic,” Ben had whispered to Elizabeth. “Some actors are self-centered stinkers. But maybe she's just talking about
real
actors.”
was
for the moment that blind man; or seeing the tragedy behind the gaudy trappings of a prostitute, he was that prostitute. And because an actor merged himself into other people's personalities, he was the first to help the blind man across the street, to offer his seat to an old woman on the bus. You could tell an actor because he was a greater participator in life than anyone else. “Nice, though a bit romantic,” Ben had whispered to Elizabeth. “Some actors are self-centered stinkers. But maybe she's just talking about
real
actors.”
Now Elizabeth was participating in Ditta's pain, but she was also adopting that pain as part of her wardrobe of acting; it was there for her to utilize whenever she needed it. Miss Hedeman had made this seem like an ideal process; Elizabeth
always had a guilty sense of thieving, but it was an unavoidable theft.
always had a guilty sense of thieving, but it was an unavoidable theft.
“It was during the war,” Ditta was saying. “I was teaching at a day school then, so I had more time to myselfâtoo much time. There was a big naval air station just on the outskirts of town and he was a friend of a friend of the math teacher's so she looked him up and had him out to tea. That was how I met him. He didn't know anybody elseâI guess that's why I saw so much of him at firstâand then there wasn't anybody in the world but the two of us. If I'd never believed in heaven before, I would have believed in it then. Right in the middle of this life I've been to heaven, Liz. Not many people have. I'm terribly lucky, really.”
“What happened?” Elizabeth asked.
“We were going to be married, but he was waiting for his orders to go overseas and we thought it would be better to wait till he got back. It was toward the very end of the warâwe both felt that it mightn't be long, and that it might be over even before he had to leave. But he did leave and his plane crashed over the Pacific the day the war ended. Or was supposed to have ended.”
“Oh, Dittaâ”
“No, Liz. Don't be sorry for me. It wasâsomething that happened and that neither of us could prevent, but there wasn't any bitterness in it. I can think of him with nothing but love. Even our occasional quarrels wereâgay and loving. I have nothing bad to look back on. If anything ever happens to John Peter and JaneâI mean if something should happen to their loveâit wouldn't be anything either of them would want
to remember. They'd try to shut out their time together. But my memories are like a fire in winterâwhenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them.” Without warning, the mask of restraint closed over her face again. “I'm sorry if I sound sentimental.”
to remember. They'd try to shut out their time together. But my memories are like a fire in winterâwhenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them.” Without warning, the mask of restraint closed over her face again. “I'm sorry if I sound sentimental.”
“You don't!” Elizabeth cried. “Oh, Ditta, you don't!” She wanted to say something to show Ditta that she understood to the depth of her own experience and beyond, but she could only say, “Oh, Ditta,” very softly, very helplessly. After a while she said, “Dittaâ”
“What?”
“You know all the gabbing we doâtalking till three and four in the morningâ”
“Yes.”
“And we hardly ever talk about the worldâand warâand stopping warâWe're so terribly selfishâ”
“Well,” Ditta said, “the war didn't really touch any of you. It wasn't fought here. You weren't bombed, you had enough to eat, you didn't walk through streets full of rubble and dead bodies, you weren't quite old enough to have people you were madly in love with in the warâand even people who were really in it, who went through the worst of it, want to forget it. It's only human nature.”
“But, Dittaâwhen you see the papersâeverything's so awfulâthe people at the heads of countries do such awful thingsâand we don't do anything about it. We just sit around and eat hot dogs and talk about people and the state of the theatre.”
“Is this the first time that's occurred to you?” Ditta asked.
“No. But it just hit me harder than usual. In college we used to be terribly concerned with the world, but here the whole world seems to be the theatre. If there were only something we could do to stop war so things like what happened to you wouldn't happen.”
“It's a funny thing,” Ditta said. “You know I wouldn't have met him if it hadn't been for the war ⦠I wonder if there
is
any way to stop war? People say it's impossible because there have always been wars, but they said radio was impossible, and telephone, and airplanes. They said if God had meant man to fly He would have given us wings. I believe that God likes us to do things for ourselves, to develop our own potentialities. And as for warâall I can do, personally, to try to stop it, is to remember it, and try to teach my kids at school about it, sort of sandwiched in between lessons in acting. I like teaching, you know, Liz. I've gotten so that it's really a creative thing with me; I feel that it's a creative art just as much as acting or painting or writing musicâand it makes me happy that my kids at school like me; and in the summer I have this. I say I come to summer theatres because I think it's the best way I can keep my theatre knowledge fresh and new for my kids, but I don't know who I think I'm fooling. I come simply because I dote on it. I've met more people this summer that I'd like to go on knowing than I ever have beforeâyou and Ben and Jane and John Peter and Marian Hatfield. You knew Marian was in the play Kurt directed in New York last winter, didn't you?”
is
any way to stop war? People say it's impossible because there have always been wars, but they said radio was impossible, and telephone, and airplanes. They said if God had meant man to fly He would have given us wings. I believe that God likes us to do things for ourselves, to develop our own potentialities. And as for warâall I can do, personally, to try to stop it, is to remember it, and try to teach my kids at school about it, sort of sandwiched in between lessons in acting. I like teaching, you know, Liz. I've gotten so that it's really a creative thing with me; I feel that it's a creative art just as much as acting or painting or writing musicâand it makes me happy that my kids at school like me; and in the summer I have this. I say I come to summer theatres because I think it's the best way I can keep my theatre knowledge fresh and new for my kids, but I don't know who I think I'm fooling. I come simply because I dote on it. I've met more people this summer that I'd like to go on knowing than I ever have beforeâyou and Ben and Jane and John Peter and Marian Hatfield. You knew Marian was in the play Kurt directed in New York last winter, didn't you?”
“Yes, he told me.” The moment Kurt's name was mentioned
the warm emotion that Ditta's story had roused in Elizabeth retreated. She felt cold and wary and she looked at Ditta almost with antagonism.
the warm emotion that Ditta's story had roused in Elizabeth retreated. She felt cold and wary and she looked at Ditta almost with antagonism.
“I didn't know until Marian told me last night. We went out for a hamburger after she was through rehearsal. She's an awfully good actress, I think, and not a bit upstagey. By the way”âDitta cast a sidelong glance at Elizabeth, then looked down at the grassâ“did you know Kurt was once married?”
“No,” Elizabeth said after a long pause in which she felt as though Ditta had kicked her violently in the stomach. Though why? Why should Kurt not be married?
“He never told you about it?”
“No.”
“Well, maybe it's because he's still upset about it. It busted up pretty unhappily.”
Elizabeth wanted to ask Ditta how, and also how she knew about it, but it seemed that she had no voice. She opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out.
Ditta, still looking down at the grass, answered her unasked question. “His wife went off with another man. Marian says she was probably the only woman he's ever really been in love with.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth whispered.
Ditta continued, “I think maybe that's why Kurt is so unsure of himself.”
“Kurt!”
“Yes, Kurt. He seems so self-sufficient on the surface and so important to us. He's the important young Broadway director and we're lowly apprentices. But on the whole we're probably
a lot less afraid than he is. I'm not feeling sorry for him, mind you. I think Kurt's quite a bit of a bastard. But I think it'sâinterestingâto understand why he's a bastard. He got kicked in the teeth by the person he loved, so now he keeps having to be reassured that women can and do love him. You. Dottie. And one night when I went down the boardwalk with him for something to eat he even made a few passes at me.”
a lot less afraid than he is. I'm not feeling sorry for him, mind you. I think Kurt's quite a bit of a bastard. But I think it'sâinterestingâto understand why he's a bastard. He got kicked in the teeth by the person he loved, so now he keeps having to be reassured that women can and do love him. You. Dottie. And one night when I went down the boardwalk with him for something to eat he even made a few passes at me.”
“Oh,” Elizabeth said, thinking with part of her numbed consciousness that this must have been why Ditta had told her own story, because she was planning all along to talk to Elizabeth about Kurt.
Ditta laughed. “When anybody like Kurt makes a pass at me he must be pretty desperate.” Then she said, “Listen, Liz, I couldn't sleep last night it was so hot, and I was lying at the foot of my bed looking out the window after the storm was over and I saw you coming back to the Cottage. I knew you'd been out with Kurt and I thought maybe he'd done something to upset you. And I thought maybe it would help you to understand, if you knewâwhat I've just told you.” Elizabeth didn't say anything and Ditta went on. “I certainly don't think it excuses Kurt for the way he sometimes behaves. And in case you want to know how I know about Kurt's wife, Marian told me. The bust-up happened during the show last winter.”
“Oh. Well, thanks, Ditta.”
“Thank you for not being furious at me. You have a perfect right to be. But, Liz, you're too smart a person to go on being such a fool.”
“Hey!” a voice behind them called. “Having secrets? Tell me all about it!” and Ben appeared around the corner of the
garage, tried to vault over a barberry bush, missed it, and landed on his nose in the grass. He sat up, rubbing his nose sorrowfully. “Whenever I have delusions of becoming a ballet dancer, something like this always happens. Last night I dreamed I was on the stage of the Met doing absolutely millions of entrechats, far more than Nijinsky ever did, and everybody was applauding me wildly. Miss Hedeman sent me to tell you Joe says we can have the stage for half an hour for our voice lessons. So come on.”
garage, tried to vault over a barberry bush, missed it, and landed on his nose in the grass. He sat up, rubbing his nose sorrowfully. “Whenever I have delusions of becoming a ballet dancer, something like this always happens. Last night I dreamed I was on the stage of the Met doing absolutely millions of entrechats, far more than Nijinsky ever did, and everybody was applauding me wildly. Miss Hedeman sent me to tell you Joe says we can have the stage for half an hour for our voice lessons. So come on.”
Elizabeth and Ditta got up from the grass, Ditta exclaiming, “Horrors, that grass was
wet
. I've got to go up and change. I'll be over in a little while.”
wet
. I've got to go up and change. I'll be over in a little while.”
“You wet, too, Liz?” Ben asked.
“Not noticeably. Not enough to change for, anyhow.”
Ben walked beside her, but he did not link arms with her as he usually did, and Elizabeth could not think of anything to say to him that would not be the wrong thing to say; so they walked to the theatre apart and in silence. Elizabeth thought about Kurt's words about love in Irving's the night before; and she thought about Ditta's words that morning. Now she understood Kurt better; she no longer hated him; and she no longer was in love with him.
But the understanding that had come could in no way take the place of the love. It was powerless to fill the vacuum that the loss of loving Kurt had created. Walking to the theatre with Ben, she felt that she would have to go all her life with a great hole of longing unfilled inside her.
Kurt sought her out before lunch and pulled her off into a corner of the hall. “Liebchen.”
“What is it, Kurt?”
“Not mad at me, are you?”
“No.”
“What's the matter, then?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay, Liz, no more of this. You're acting as though you were ten thousand miles away from me.”
“I guess that's the trouble, Kurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“I
am
ten thousand miles away from you. More than that, I guess. We just live in different worlds, that's all, and it isn't any use trying to go from one world to another.”
am
ten thousand miles away from you. More than that, I guess. We just live in different worlds, that's all, and it isn't any use trying to go from one world to another.”
“Don't be melodramatic, Elizabeth.”
“I didn't know I was. I didn't mean to be.”
“Then stop talking this nonsense about different worlds.”
“But that's the way it seems to me. We say the same words and they don't mean the same thing.” Because even if he knew I knew about Dottie, she thought, he wouldn't understand.
“What kinds of words, Liebchen?” he asked, his voice gentle.
“All kinds of words. The things we're saying now. The things we've said all summer.”
Kurt caught her by the wrist. “Didn't you expect me to wantâwhat I wanted of you last night?”
“I don't know. That really doesn't have very much to do with it.” Elizabeth tried to pull her wrist away, but, as he did not release her, she let it lie in his hand as heavy and impersonal as a block of wood.
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