“‘Nothing, of course,’ the lawyer said, ‘but then we have this testimonial’—he picked up a second letter from the pile—‘where the writer remarks on being impressed with the candidate’s seriousness of purpose, his levelheaded and even solemn approach to a situation. He’s been our candidate’s host too, it seems, and claims that he considers those weekends when the candidate was a guest in his home to have been “philosophical mileposts, times for meaningful contemplation and the dignified reappraisal of goals and values.” The young man has been an inspiration, this man claims, and “has redirected and subdued the frivolous and cynical vitality of others into more worthwhile channels.” ’
“‘But the fellow talks of his perspective also, of his balance and good sportsmanship,’ the chairman said.
“‘I know that,’ the lawyer said, and began to read from a third letter, but at this point was interrupted by the board member next to him, a man who had opened up vast new customer areas in Asia.
“‘I see what our colleague is getting at, but I like the part in this letter—’
“‘That’s the one I was just coming to,’ the lawyer said.
“‘—where the young fellow’s foresight and courage are praised, “…his willingness to take a big risk and then back up that risk with everything he’s got.” He says he can almost smell the fresh young blood in him. I like that. That sort of thing could stir some of the rest of us up around here.’
“‘Certainly,’ said the man who had spoken up at the same time as the lawyer, the member the chairman had not called upon when the vice-president made his motion to confirm. ‘Yet in this last letter the writer speaks of the boy’s “prudence, his steady imperturbability, and reluctance to seek an advantage when the percentages are against it.” He goes on to comment that this is rarely found in someone the candidate’s age.’
“Now all the board members began to discover inconsistencies, calling them out to each other like people who want their songs played on a piano. The chairman, who had risen out of his seat to oppose the lawyer when he had read from the letters and who had remained standing through it all, now sank back wearily. ‘I hadn’t realized,’ he said. ‘The letters were all so enthusiastic. I hadn’t realized.’
“‘None of us realized, Joseph,’ the vice-president who had proposed confirmation said.
“‘I hadn’t realized myself,’ the organization’s chief counsel said. ‘It was only when I remembered what you told us of the fellow’s being nonplused when you asked him for the names. Then I thought of certain phrases in the letters and I became concerned. I’m sorry, gentlemen, but the candidate is devious.’
“The chairman thanked him and asked if there was now a second to the vice-president’s motion. There was no one to second it. Reluctantly the vice-president rose, asked that his former proposal be withdrawn and suggested that the candidate be disqualified from further consideration. This was quietly seconded and somewhat sadly passed by all present.
“Now the chairman had the responsibility of returning to his office to tell the shoo-in he had been rejected. Before he left the young man, he had urged him to sit in his chair at the big desk, assuring him that the joke was standard ritual for a shoo-in like himself. When he opened the door, however, he saw that the fellow was still standing where he had left him. He came in and smiled, not knowing how to begin. ‘Something came up,’ he said at last.
“‘I know,’ the young man said. ‘The board of directors has denied me.’
“‘It was astonishing to me. Naturally as chairman I did not exercise a vote. Objections were raised. I’m sorry.’
“‘May I ask what the objections were?’
“‘These meetings,’ the chairman said, ‘they’re confidential.’
“‘Never mind,’ the young man said, ‘perhaps I already know.’
“‘There was no animosity. And if you like, of course we want you to stay on in your present job. The letters—’
“‘The letters were thrilling,’ the young man said.
“‘They were very enthusiastic,’ the chairman said.
“‘But they contradicted—’
“‘They presented a picture of four different men,’ the chairman said.
“‘Yes,’ the shoo-in said.
“‘Naturally the directors were confused. They felt that since each letter carried equal weight, they weren’t competent to determine which estimate was the one…And someone suggested afterwards that his own enthusiasm for your character and work lay in different directions entirely from the ones he had seen represented in the letters. My reactions too are…You see how it is?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘A man should be fixed,’ the chairman said. ‘The board felt that a certain firmness was lacking—’
“‘That one ought to know his necessity and bow down to it?’
“‘Yes,’ the chairman said, ‘that’s it.’
“‘One is what one is?’
“‘Properly so,’ the chairman said, ‘yes.’
“‘No,’ the young man said. ‘What you call character is the mere obstinacy of the self, the sinister will’s solipsist I am. One adjusts his humanity to the humanity of others. Not I am, but You are—there’s the necessity. Love cooperates; it plays ball. I hate a chaos. Does the company need me?’
“‘I beg your pardon?’
“‘You said I might stay if I wished it. What does the board wish?’
“‘Well, of course, we talked mainly of your candidacy, but your work’s been splendid and I get the feeling that all of us would regret your going.’
“‘I shall stay on then,’ the young man told him.
“He is there today,” the warden said. “The firm has prospered. It has built new plants. Thousands are employed. It pays enormous taxes to the government, and the government uses the money to build ships and planes that defend us all. That is the parable of the shoo-in. Beautiful, isn’t it? Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes, Warden,” a man said.
“Yes, Warden,” some others chipped in.
The cry went up throughout the hall. “Yes, Warden. Yes, Warden.”
The warden raised his hands for silence. “But he didn’t get the job, is that what you’re thinking? Is it? You bad men, is that what you’re thinking? No ‘making warden’s mouths’ this time. Answer in your hearts. Well, you’re wrong. He got the job. He got the job. And when the old man died, he got his job too. He got everybody’s job. And he bought out other companies and deposed the chairmen, and he got their jobs too. Today the men who wrote those letters work for him. That’s what flexibility does. Right there, that’s what it does! That’s what it does, you guys stuck in your casings of self like pure pork sausage! There are no piker saints!”
The warden paused, then stepped forward. When he spoke again his voice was soft. “There’s some prison business,” he said. It was what he always said before announcing policy changes, and the men, who had seemed confused during his parable, now looked more confident. A few had brought pencils to take down whatever he said. This was a prisoner’s privilege, since it was the warden’s custom frequently to introduce new rules or to abridge old ones during a Warden’s Assembly. The changes would affect them all, but they were never written down by the administration. The warden preferred that there be a sort of oral tradition in the penitentiary. Indeed, it was his boast that the prison did not even own a mimeograph machine. But, thought Feldman when he heard this, an electric chair they’ve got.
The warden’s reasons for denying the men any codified regulations were perfectly apparent, Feldman thought. Since infractions were met with severe punishments, it became the responsibility of the men themselves, as well as their best interest, to try to understand the warden — in short to listen. Nevertheless, they were allowed a certain latitude here. The most literate of the convicts were appointed by their fellow inmates to catch the warden’s words on the tips of their pencils. Later their notes were checked, double-checked, collated against the notes of the other scribes. (In this way a certain respect for scholarship was induced too. Feldman had never been anywhere where there was a more genuine admiration of those who knew facts, though a scholar’s mistakes earned him beatings.) Discussion groups were formed to resolve inconsistencies and to interpret what had been said. Indeed, the warden had created in effect a hard core of penal Talmudists, men who parsed intention and declined nuances like lexicographers, men adept at shorthand, good punctuators and spellers who wrote with a strong, legible hand. Now, as he glanced about, Feldman saw their strained attentions, their lick-lead alertness; they seemed passionate, fools leaning forward.