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300 THIS DIFFICULT INDIVIDUAL
made it known that I was available as a "white hunter" with
whom it was safe to visit "the zoo".
One morning, when I stopped at the Library to see her, she
introduced me to the critic Lloyd Frankenberg and his wife, the
painter Loren MacIver. Later that day, she called me to say that
Frankenberg was anxious to visit with Ezra if I would go out with
him the next day. As an additional request, she asked that I clear
this with Ezra beforehand. Although Ezra always demanded to
know ahead of time what visitors were coming out, I was the only
one who consistently violated this rule. He rarely objected, since
most of the people I brought out were rather interesting characters.
Since Frankenberg was rather nervous about the prospect, I
decided that I had better get in touch with Dorothy Pound and let
her know about him. The next morning, I called and asked if I
should bring him. She seemed rather surprised, but told me it
would be all right. When I went to the Library to pick up Frankenberg,
Elizabeth told me that he had changed his mind about
making the visit, and had gone back to New York.
I went out to the hospital and related my story. Dorothy Pound
then said that she was amazed that Frankenberg would even think
about coming out, as he had said some unpleasant things about
E.P. Even so, they were willing to receive him. Their tolerant attitude
was in striking contrast to that of the liberal critics, most of
whom seemed willing to blast away at Ezra from a safe distance,
but who would under no circumstances face him.
When Elizabeth had served her allotted stint at the Library, she
was replaced by Conrad Aiken, who, of course, was looked upon
with high favour by the ritualistic liberals. Ezra suggested that I
call upon him, not to request that he come out, but to let him
know that if he wished to visit at St. Liz, he would be welcome.
Aiken was rather guarded with me, and looked as though he
wished he had had a chance to put away the silver before I came
in. When I suggested that he come out to see Ezra, he seemed
nervous. At that time, I knew nothing of the difficulty he had had
with his publisher, Bennett Cerf of Random House, when he included
some poems by Pound in an anthology and Cerf, in a
flagrant example of book-burning, took them out. Aiken sat stroking
his chin. Eventually he said that he didn't think he would go