‘How do you know that?’
‘I went to school with him,’ said Keynes.
It wasn’t all England today. Vladimir Nabokov, now resident in the US, derailed the comeback of Henry Miller who has been out of the game with a socially sustained back injury and just seemed to be coming right. As Miller put it, ‘I hunt. I kill. I eat.’
Nabokov has been playing since childhood in Russia, and can do almost anything with the ball on any surface. ‘I don’t need to play tennis,’ he said. ‘I do it because it pleases me.’
Miller seemed disappointed to have lost to ‘an elitist and a ponce’ and, asked what he planned for the future, said he wanted to play with his instinct, not his brain.
‘Unfortunately, there is a lot of this about,’ said Nabokov. ‘The idea that instinct is more radical than intellect is not one we need consider for long. Any other questions?’
Sixth-seed Joseph Conrad was fast and mobile against the baby-faced Robert Graves and he dealt well with swirling winds, and two interruptions while dead and dying insects were swept from the court. ‘I don’t know what they were,’ said Conrad. ‘It was like a plague of some sort. A sickness.’
Conrad didn’t pick up a racquet until he was twenty-three and was the oldest player in the first tournament he entered. He won and never looked back. ‘It was good to be out there,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed it, apart from the horror.’ The Poles, of course, went mad.
Italian Maria Montessori went through comfortably and then invited the ballgirls out on to the practice courts for a hit. ‘They should play, all these children. Let them play and get confident and then they’ll be better at everything they do.’
‘Silly bitch,’ said Ezra Pound. ‘She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t speak for Italy.’
‘Ezra Pound is not Italian,’ said Montessori, ‘knows nothing about children, does not care about anyone but himself and is mad. Is there anything else?’
American glamour-girl Gloria Swanson was also through today but perhaps the most emphatic win was Ayn Rand’s annihilation of Beatrix Potter. Rand was brought up in Russia but lives now in the US where she thrives on the lucrative American circuit. She will appear before a hearing tomorrow night over an incident following the toss. The players shook hands. ‘Good luck, Ayn,’ said Potter.
‘Get out of my way,’ replied Rand, ‘or I’ll fucking kill you.’
Day 10
Keaton v. Tzara • Spock v. Rivera • Lawrence v. Modigliani • Bishop v. Arden • McCarthy v. Doolittle • Ravel v. Hesse • Cocteau v. De Mille • Eliot v. Capek
The diminutive Buster Keaton endured everything thrown at him by Romanian Tristan Tzara. In the first-set tie-break a lighting tower crashed on to the court, missing him by centimetres. He stepped neatly out of the rubble as if it wasn’t there.
Also solid was American qualifier Ben Spock, outlasting the Colombian José Rivera in 41-degree heat on Court 12 this afternoon. Conditions were so oppressive the match referee considered a postponement. ‘It was like playing in the jungle,’ said Rivera, ‘without any of the advantages.’
An Olympic gold medallist in rowing, the Spockster was full of praise for his opponent. ‘José is a great player and he comes from a country which has been exploited and ruined by other countries, including my own. How can we bring children into the world and then do that to them?’
Lawrence of Nottingham marshalled his considerable will against the more fancied Amedeo Modigliani in the cauldron that was Court 4 this afternoon. The Italian beanpole was elegance personified and he began with some of the most imperious ground strokes we’ve seen here. He didn’t even look where the ball had gone but nodded in quiet approval and strolled to his position to play the next point.
By contrast, Lawrence is like a young bull. He snorts. He grunts as he hits the ball and in today’s heat he sweated, he groaned, he squinted, he poured water over himself in the breaks, he was not in his element at all. ‘I’m going to keep coming at you, you know,’ he said after the first set. ‘I’m going to keep coming at you until I have you.’ Modigliani looked slightly affronted at this but said nothing. For the next three sets, however, this is exactly what Lawrence did.
There was an entertaining media call after the Elizabeth Bishop–Eve Arden and the Mary McCarthy–Hilda Doolittle matches, which finished at almost the same time on different courts; Bishop successful over Arden and McCarthy over Doolittle. All the players were at the press conference except Arden, who ‘wasn’t quite ready yet’. Doolittle opened her mouth a couple of times but ultimately said nothing. A woman who announced herself as Bryher spoke for her. Doolittle was a great talent, Bryher said, and had trained with Pound, to whom she was engaged, and with Freud, to whom she was indebted. She said they had both been to SuperTom’s match earlier that day and had watched ‘with deep admiration’. She explained that Doolittle would have to be leaving soon. Bryher described herself as ‘unbelievably rich’.
Bishop and McCarthy were at college together and delighted to be here. ‘I’m delighted to be anywhere,’ said Bishop. ‘Except New England and the past.’
‘Me too,’ said McCarthy. ‘The past can go to hell. Bring on the future.’
‘Yep,’ said Bishop, ‘and South America.’
‘Did anyone see the Lillian Hellman story in the paper today?’ asked McCarthy. ‘Where she says she went into Germany and helped some people who were in trouble and then came back out again? What bullshit. She’s sold the idea to some film producer. They’re going to make a movie of it. Some pal of Dash’s, no doubt.’
‘I read that,’ said Bishop. ‘Is it incorrect?’
‘Absolute bullshit,’ insisted McCarthy. ‘Lillian’s never been to Germany.’
Chances are there’ll be a good crowd for McCarthy’s next singles match. Her opponent will be Lillian Hellman.
French Davis Cup regular Maurice
