{"id":17933,"date":"2011-07-05T13:58:42","date_gmt":"2011-07-05T17:58:42","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=17933"},"modified":"2011-07-05T15:47:29","modified_gmt":"2011-07-05T19:47:29","slug":"fair-game","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/07\/05\/fair-game\/","title":{"rendered":"Fair Game"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/p>\n

\u201cHere\u2019s one for you,\u201d the driver said as soon as the taxi door had closed. \u201cIf you\u2019re standing in a house, and every window faces south, what color bear are you looking at<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n

I was caught off guard; it seemed to me late in the day for riddling.<\/p>\n

I stifled a sigh and marshaled my meager resources.<\/p>\n

If you\u2019re standing in a house, and every window faces south, what color bear are you looking at?<\/em><\/p>\n

I know next to nothing about geography, but it seemed clear that the riddle dealt with a geographically anomalous zone. Probably a pole. Which meant \u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cA polar bear?\u201d I suggested.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat color<\/em> bear?\u201d he repeated, clearly disappointed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. White.\u201d I said. He sighed, deflated.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d He said, and we drove in silence for a few minutes.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat exotic meats have you eaten?\u201d he asked after a while.<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s see,\u201d I said thoughtfully. \u201cOstrich, alligator, elk, bison … I guess venison doesn\u2019t count, does it?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, it counts all right,\u201d he said with suppressed violence. \u201cI count it. So you\u2019ve never had bear? Moose?\u00a0Bear<\/em>?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cIs it good?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBear?\u201d he barked. \u201cIt\u2019s the worst damn thing I\u2019ve ever tasted! That is,\u201d he amended, \u201cgrizzly <\/em>bear is. Tasted like it was raised on garbage.\u00a0Brown<\/em> bear, now, isn\u2019t so bad. It\u2019s greasy, of course, but I grilled it up and it wasn\u2019t so bad. You have to grill bear,\u201d he added instructively.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess Indians ate a lot of bear,\u201d I ventured.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou bet!\u201d he said. \u201cYou bet they did! I\u2019ve had lots of animals. Squirrel, muskrat, bear, elk, bison … oh, just about everything you can eat, I guess.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRaccoon?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I\u2019ve never had raccoon.\u201d He sounded deflated again.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, talk about tasting like garbage!\u201d I said helpfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve had raccoon meat?\u201d he asked resentfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, no, but I see what they eat. The raccoons get into our garbage all the time. Do you hunt?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I don\u2019t. The fishing shop where I buy tackle sells exotic meats. I tell them, \u2018I\u2019ll try whatever you get in!\u2019 And they save some for me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Well, you certainly have had a lot of meats,\u201d I said. We lapsed into silence again.<\/p>\n

\u201cEver had whale?\u201d I said after a while.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he admitted. \u201cBut I have a friend who has,\u201d he added hastily. \u201cIt\u2019s illegal to eat it, but he used to eat it when he was a kid. Said it\u2019s tasty\u2014firm, like tuna, you know? A little rubbery.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds about right,\u201d I said. \u201cI guess once the blubber\u2019s been scraped off, it\u2019s really fairly lean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve been cooking a lot these days,\u201d he volunteered.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you enjoy it?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, I don\u2019t have much choice,\u201d he said. \u201cMy wife passed away six months ago. I was doing the cooking, the housework, for about six months before that, too. I like it all right now. I\u2019m experimenting a little bit, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, well,\u201d he said. There was a prolonged silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cDid your wife … enjoy different meats?\u201d I said tentatively.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe liked the venison,\u201d he said, \u201cand she ate, you know, beef and chicken. Veal. I think she tried the wild turkey. She wouldn\u2019t try the bear, though.\u201d<\/p>\n

Silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cI hear you can get meats now on the Internet\u2014clubs, that send you different kinds.\u201d He told me as we pulled off the parkway. \u201cI\u2019d do it if I were you. Nice to get something in the mail. My wife used to order from Home Shopping Network. QVC. Dolls, all kinds of things. You know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cA doll came in the mail yesterday,\u201d he said. \u201cReal fancy\u2014lace, pearls, everything. I thought it was meat for a second there,\u201d he added. \u201cBut it was a doll. Nice to get packages, you know?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Brown paper packages, tied up with string,\u2019\u201d I ventured lamely. He ignored me.<\/p>\n

\u201cGives you a little something to look forward to,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

WHEN I ARRIVED AT THE READING<\/small> the bookstore was almost full. I could see the wunderkind author milling around near the podium, talking to some organizers. I craned my neck to get a look at the crowd, and waved and smiled to a couple of people I knew slightly and one very earnest girl whom I remembered vaguely from an ill-fated book club. The room was filled with lots of professorial types carrying National Public Radio tote bags and some eager young people.<\/p>\n

The wunderkind author was small. He was wearing a dark suit. He didn\u2019t lack for confidence; he spent the moments before the reading laughing with well-wishers and, after a rather fawning introduction, took the podium and smiled in an ingratiating fashion.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, the publisher gave me all these shirts,\u201d he said in a self-deprecating way, displaying a T-shirt with Little Circles<\/em> written on it and the words \u201cA masterpiece!\u201d in quotations.<\/p>\n

\u201cObviously, I can\u2019t wear this,\u201d he said, indicating the quotation to general laughter, \u201cso I\u2019m trying to think of creative ways to get rid of them. Here\u2019s the deal: if anyone asks me a question I refuse<\/em> to answer, you get a shirt. I give you fair warning, this has only happened twice\u2014but there are<\/em> things I won\u2019t talk about!\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, that wouldn\u2019t be too hard, I thought irritably. He probably won\u2019t talk about how much money he\u2019s made, or something. And maybe his love life. But who wants that ridiculous shirt, anyway? In the grand tradition of free shirts, they were all enormous.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, I\u2019m going to read a little bit for you,\u201d he said, \u201cbut only a little bit, and then we\u2019ll talk\u2014that\u2019s what I really enjoy.\u201d<\/p>\n

He read three very long passages: a funny part, a sad\/heartwarming part, and some other part of indeterminate characterization. His reading was only okay, not how I\u2019d imagined it when I read Little Circles<\/em>.<\/p>\n

When he had finished reading, everyone applauded and some hands shot up immediately. An elderly woman asked something about his approach to his craft. His response was smooth with repetition.<\/p>\n

The girl from my ill-fated book club, quivering with earnestness, demanded to know whether he regarded his work as metafiction, and what were his opinions of metafiction as a genre?<\/p>\n

He responded with, I thought, inappropriate irritation.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy work is not<\/em> metafiction,\u201d he replied coldly. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t feel competent to comment on metafiction.\u201d He turned his attention away abruptly, and the girl looked crushed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe cover of your book looks like the yin and the yang,\u201d said a moron. \u201cIs it supposed to look like that, and what are your opinions of eastern philosophy, and what do you think about world peace in our lifetime?\u201d<\/p>\n

He laughed a little bit, but more at the enormity of the question than its stupidity. No, the cover had not been intended to evoke the yin and the yang, but he liked that people could see different things in it. He was no student of Eastern philosophy, but he found it fascinating and hoped to get more into it when he had more time. He couldn\u2019t predict world peace with any kind of authority (and this government, disappointingly, was doing its best to prevent it\u2014applause), but he devotedly hoped that with mutual understanding and respect things could improve. He was much nicer than he had been about the metafiction question, and I was annoyed. Really annoyed. In fact, I hated him. My hand shot up.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou, in the glasses,\u201d he said, pointing to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cBuilding off of the last question,\u201d I said coolly, and wishing he hadn\u2019t referred to me that way, \u201cif you\u2019re standing in a house, and every window is facing south … what color bear are you looking at?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cExcuse me?\u201d he said blankly.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019re standing in a house, and every room faces south,\u201d I said more loudly, beginning to feel like an ass, but brazening it out, \u201cwhat color bear are you looking at?!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat color bear … ?\u201d he said again. There was silence.<\/p>\n

\u201cGive her the shirt!\u201d someone shouted, and several voices added their endorsement.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, hang on,\u201d he said. (\u201cGive her the shirt!\u201d said the same voice.) \u201cI said questions I wouldn\u2019t <\/em>answer, not riddles that stumped me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, what color bear?\u201d he finally asked, in irritation. A bunch of people shouted \u201cWhite!\u201d and I didn\u2019t have to say anything. I tried to look jaunty.<\/p>\n

The worst part, of course, was that I\u2019d already bought my book, and I figured I had to get it signed for my friend David, a Little Circles<\/em> enthusiast. My tension mounted as the line shortened. When it was my turn, I handed him the book and said, \u201cTo David, please.\u201d At least he would know it wasn\u2019t for me. The wunderkind author bent his head over the book, and he looked very young.<\/p>\n

\u201cI … I\u2019m sorry about that bear question,\u201d I said timidly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s okay,\u201d he muttered, without looking up.<\/p>\n

Now I was broke, and I took the bus home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cHere\u2019s one for you,\u201d the driver said as soon as the taxi door had closed. \u201cIf you\u2019re standing in a house, and every window faces south, what color bear are you looking at?\u201d I was caught off guard; it seemed to me late in the day for riddling. I stifled a sigh and marshaled my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":178,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[2353],"tags":[2759,2757,2762,2761,2756,2760,605,2758,2755],"class_list":["post-17933","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nostalgia","tag-cab-driver","tag-exotic-meats","tag-meta-fiction","tag-oversized-t-shirts","tag-polar-bears","tag-questions","tag-readings","tag-taxi","tag-wunderkind-authors"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nFair Game by Sadie Stein<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"July 5, 2011 \u2013 \u201cHere\u2019s one for you,\u201d the driver said as soon as the taxi door had closed. \u201cIf you\u2019re standing in a house, and every window faces south, what color bear\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" 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