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EZRA POUND 23
still confined in the "Hellhole", as he termed Howard Hall, the
ward for the criminally insane.
The Flemings came to see him about three times a week during
most of the years of his imprisonment. Rudd was doing some
Greek translations, and Polly was translating Laforgue and other
French poets whom Ezra had introduced in America some years
before. Although they had many literary interests in common, their
politics were at the other extreme from Pound's, and any discussion
that ventured into this realm would soon become acrimonious, as
Polly was, like most of her persuasion, rather loquacious. Nevertheless,
Pound delighted in teasing them by making an unfavorable reference
to some "liberal" hero, perhaps to spur the conversation along.
On this, my first visit, politics was not mentioned. Ezra and
Rudd chatted about the Greeks, and Polly talked with Mrs. Pound.
Occasionally, Ezra would screw his features into a terrible grimace
and partly rise from his chair, as if he were trying to ward off some
unseen threat. Neither his wife nor the Flemings would pay any
attention to these actions, although they suggested that he might
be suffering from an acute fit of madness. Thus did Macbeth
envisage Banquo, and, looking behind me, I saw a lanky hillbilly, a
rawboned fellow about twenty years old, with staring eyes and a
face like an advertisement for a horror movie.
Seeing that I was disturbed, Ezra rose from his chair and pushed
the fellow out of the way. His actions on this occasion reminded
me of Trotsky's quote from Tolstoy in his History of the Russian
Revolution. Tolstoy describes an old man who was sitting by the
side of the road and making wild gestures and fierce grimaces.
Tolstoy at first supposed him to be mad, but on drawing near, he
saw that the old man was merely sharpening a knife upon a stone.
The hillbilly annoyed us again on subsequent visits, and Ezra
sometimes got rid of him by giving him some small change. He
was finally transferred to another ward, and we saw him no more.
He was not at all like the other "Chestnuts", who were, if one may
be excused this pleasantry, less violent nuts. The old men paced up
and down the long corridor most of the day, or sat apathetically in
chairs spaced along the walls. As Ezra said, "One can't be associated
with gooks for long without being affected by it."
I remember one of the more pathetic "Chestnuts", an old man