Opening Up Milton
2008; University of Nebraska Press; Volume: 29; Issue: 5 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1353/abr.2008.0098
ISSN2153-4578
Autores Tópico(s)Sports, Gender, and Society
ResumoPage 19 July–August 2008 Brooks continued from previous page quickly dispatched. FellowWhite Sox players, men Mickey once idolized, throw the 1919 World Series in exchange for dirty money from big-time gamblers. Mickey’s opportunity to be a world champion is gone forever it turns out, and so too, of course, his naïve belief in heroes. But he manages somehow to survive the ghosts of the so-called Black Sox and their legacy. Later in life, Mickey only seeks to help others realize their own dreams: “I’ll find a kid who will do what I wanted to do and never did, become the great star I never became.” If this is the gist of Mickey ’s tale, what gives it its spitball era torque is in the manner of its telling. Related in the first person— the only published Farrell novel that I know of that employs it—Mickey Donovan is always in our ear, just as the eight Black Sox are always present in his mind, somewhere. The story only slowly unfolds as half of the time Mickey, a greenhorn “busher,” cannot believe what he is experiencing—the good, as well as the bad. The Black Sox treachery is a muddle (to this day what exactly the players did, or did not do, is subject to speculation), and practically everyone is in denial over it. In fact, the Black Sox played with their team almost a full year before public confessions were made. The Black Sox moniker aside, Dreaming Baseball is a disturbing behavioral study in grays. Farrell also conveys the idea that ball players from this era were still essentially working men, not terribly well educated, and subject to exploitation. Some were off the farm, like the great natural hitter Shoeless Joe Jackson , who was illiterate. Mickey Donovan, himself, was working as a teamster in Chicago (like Farrell’s father) before he was signed to the White Sox for $150 a month, with a $50 monthly bonus for an option on his contract. Counterpoised to all this, though, is the aweinspiring “baseball intelligence” of the players. Third baseman Buck Weaver, for instance, had it in abundance. “He knew where to play every pitch, and he could do everything right. He could pick up a bunt or slow roller without bending down for the ball and make his throw. You didn’t bunt on him, not often.” But because Buck Weaver also possessed “guilty knowledge” of the World Series fix and told no one, he was banned for life (along with the seven others) from playing in big leagues. Making real the technical complexity of baseball is one of the novel’s important accomplishments; and it deepens our experience of what remains a true American tragedy. Making real the technical complexity of baseball is one of the novel’s important accomplishments. Finally, as a publishing story, Dreaming Baseball is a tale unto itself, all outlined in the book’s afterword by Ron Briley, one of the novel’s three editors. For one thing, it took about fifty years for the book to see print, due to contractual difficulties with publishers and the like. It languished in the huge and infamous Farrell archive at the University of Pennsylvania. By way of disclosure, I did inform Mr. Briley that one of the at least three versions of Farrell’s Black Sox book was housed therein. Suffice it to say, what became Dreaming Baseball is reflective of one of the most interesting careers in American authorship. The novel in its final form is proof that James T. Farrell’s career continues to surprise and grow. As new scholarship begins to unfold, we are, in many regards, only beginning to grasp something of its true scope and nature. Marshall Brooks is a writer and publisher. In 2004, he co-directed the James T. Farrell Centennial Conference at the American University of Paris. Opening Up Milton Peter C. Herman The Complete Poetry and Essential Prose of John Milton John Milton Edited by William Kerrigan, John Rumrich, and Stephen M. Fallon Modern Library http://www.randomhouse.com 1,365 pages; cloth, $55.00 John Milton does not seem to have fared well...
Referência(s)