This is the story...
and the tricky life and bitter downfall of Coleman Silk.
You mean to tell me you're President of the United States
and you're banging some 22 year-old intern in the White House
and you ask her to keep her mouth shut,
and you really think she's gonna do it? I mean, come on, give me a break!
Clinton. He should count himself lucky she didn't go straight to Oprah.
Come on, she was overwhelmed by Starr's team in that hotel room.
No, poor thing. Eleven guys hitting on her?
- That's a gang-bang. - Oh, right.
That's why she's talking to Linda Tripp.
She's talking to everybody.
She's part of that whole dopey culture. Yak yak yak.
Oh, look, if Clinton couldn't figure Monica Lewinsky,
then he shouldn't have been president.
That's grounds for impeachment right there.
- That's true. - You're right.
I'm telling you, if he'd just fucked her.
That's the way you create loyalty.
- Yeah. - That's the way.
But you know what Kennedy would have done to her? Or Nixon?
They would have told her, Not only are you not gonna work,
you're not gonna work ever again. And your father's gonna be out of work.
And your mother. And your brother
Everybody in your family is not gonna make one more thin dime
unless you keep your mouth shut.
Well, but Clinton plays it like a lawyer. That's why he didn't want to come.
Hey, when he came, he was finished.
Evidence. Smoking come.
Nineteen ninety-eight was the summer of sanctimony.
After the fall of Communism and before the horrors of terrorism,
there was a brief interlude when the nation was preoccupied by cocksucking.
This is Coleman Silk
once the powerful Dean of Faculty and professor of Classics
at Athena College in western Massachusetts.
One of the first Jews to teach in a Classics department anywhere in America.
When Coleman had been appointed Dean, he had ruthlessly
hacked away the debt woods, streamlined the curriculum and dragged Athena
kicking and screaming, from mediocrity to excellence.
Of course, in the process, he made a good many enemies.
Sing, O Gods, of the wrath of Achilles
And finally, "the persecuting spirit" caught up with Coleman.
All of European literature springs from a fight,
a barroom brawl, really.
And what was Achilles so angry about?
Well, he and King Agamemnon were quarrelling over a woman,
a young girl and her body
and the delights of sexual rapacity.
Achilles, the most hypersensitive
fighting machine in the history of warfare.
Achilles, who, because of his rage at having to give up the girl,
isolates himself defiantly outside the very society
whose protector he is and whose need of him is enormous.
Achilles, has to give up the girl. He has to give her back.
And that is how the great imaginative literature of Europe begins,
and that is why three thousand years later,
we are going to begin there today.
Miss Cummings, Tracy Cummings, can you tell us
Still not here. Okay. Mr. Thomas, William Thomas.
Is he here?
We're five weeks into the semester
and I haven't even laid eyes on these folks.
Can anyone tell me, do these people exist?
Or are they spooks?
Were you aware, Professor Silk,
that Tracy Cummings and William Thomas are African-Americans?
How could I be? I've never seen them.
But you are aware of the connotation of the word "spook."
Ghost Professor Roux. Ghost.
I was referring to their ectoplasmic character.
Here is the, uh, first definition of the word. I quote
Spook, Informal Ghost, Spectre
But, Dean Silk, let me remind you of the second definition
Negro.
I'd never laid eyes on them. How could I know they were black? Hmm?
All I did know was that they were invisible.
Nevertheless, they have lodged a complaint.
Miss Cummings was devastated. Now the issue here
These students have never attended a single class.
Do they exist or are they spooks? Consider the context.
- But, Dean Silk - I've not finished!
The only issue is the nonattendance of these students,
their inexcusable neglect of work and their sheer chutzpah.
Oh, Miss Cummings is devastated. Give me a break, will you?
To charge me with racism is not only false,
it is spectacularly false! And you know it!
Thanks a lot, Herb.
- Well, I've quit. - What?
I've resigned from that half-assed college.
Where's that last year's phone book?
Wait a minute. Wait a minute. What happened?
- I've been accused of a racist epithet. - What racist epithet?
I used the word "spooks," which fifty years ago was just a slang
I know what it was slang for.
Where's that phone book? We'll sue these wimpy bastards.
- I want that lawyer, Alfred or whatever - Wait, did you remind them
- that when you were dean you... - Yeah, I reminded them.
No, you hired Herb Keble, the first black...
- Please, "African-American," please. - Okay
- African-American, ever on the faculty. - Where's that book?
Isn't Herb on the same committee?
- But wait, wait, just tell me - Yes, he is.
And they're our friends, for God's sake!
- Did Herb even open his mouth? - Yes, yes.
I'm sorry, Coleman, I can't be with you on this. Bullshit.
Fine, fine. They want to fight?
I'll give them a fight that they'll never forget!
This is absolute lunacy! After 35 years of your devotion
Now you know what we're going to do? We're going to organize.
We're going to get them to sign a petition. That's what we'll do.
No. You know what we're going to do? We're going to do a two-pronged attack.
We're going to attack We're going to get lawyers,
because I know some... Okay. I know. Which is why
- Coly? - What?
- Something's wrong. - I know there is. What do you mean?
- Coly - What's the matter?
- Coly - Hey, come on, sit down.
What's the matter? Come on.
- Come on. - I'm sorry.
It's all right.
I'm sorry
Iris Silk died several hours later in her husband's arms.
Six months after that, Coleman came into my life.
I had been living alone in a small cabin by a lake not far from Athena.
Including questions about my private life...
questions no American citizen would ever want to answer.
Still, I must take complete responsibility
for all my actions both public and private.
And that is why I am speaking to you tonight.
- As you know, in a deposition in January - Hello?
I was asked questions about my relationship
- Are you Mr. Zuckerman? - Yeah.
- Are you Nathan Zuckerman? - Yeah.
You're the Zuckerman that's the writer, correct?
- Yeah, but - We've got to talk. May I come in?
Thanks. Your last book won some sort of prize, right?
- It was short-listed for the - That was 5 years ago. What happened?
You're blocked, right? You're blocked!
You're worried you don't have another story in you.
Well, I can fix that. I'm the answer to your prayers.
- You know who I am? - Dean Silk?
Dean Coleman Silk. That's right.
The late, retired and now resigned and unlamented Dean Silk,
following the murder you clock that?
Following the murder of my wife.
How's that grab you, Zuckerman?
That good enough to get your juices flowing?
I'm not sure I understand.
Those sons of bitches killed my wife, Nathan.
They killed my wife as if they'd taken a gun and fired it into her heart.
Yeah. Who would've thought Iris couldn't take it
as strong as she was, brave as she was? But, uh
yeah, their kind of stupidity was too much even for a juggernaut like my Iris.
Massive embolism.
Pow! I got her to the hospital, but it was too late.
The point is they meant to kill me but they got her instead.
All in the name of political correctness.
There's an oxymoron if ever I heard one.
So, there's your book, Nathan.
You mind if I call you Nathan?
- Look, Dean... - Just Coleman.
All my other titles I have given away.
Coleman. Look, I'm sorry but I write fiction, and at the moment I'm...
Believe me this thing will read like The Manchurian Candidate.
They murdered the wrong person, for Christ's sakes!
For one word! Spooks!
Spooks! It's unbelievable.
Let me tell you something, Nathan.
My father was a saloonkeeper in New Jersey.
Yeah, he was the only Jewish saloonkeeper in East Orange.
He only got as far as the seventh grade.
But he insisted on the precision of words.
And I have kept faith with him. I have kept faith with him.
If you don't mind a suggestion
maybe you ought to write this book yourself.
Yeah.
Maybe I ought to.
Yeah.
I guess I ought to go. Let me ask you something
Why are you hiding out here, in the middle of the woods?
- Hiding out? - Yeah. Isn't that what you're doing?
What's the moment called in Greek tragedy,
you know, the one where the hero learns that everything he knows is wrong?
It's called peripeteio or peripetia. Take your choice.
Yeah. That's me.
Hey. You by any chance play gin rummy?
And this was how my friendship with Coleman Silk began.
And how I came out from my reclusive life,
living alone in a cabin by a lake.
You're divorced, huh?
Does it show?
Yeah, you have the look about you of a man at loose ends.
Takes one to know one.
Why did your wife leave you?
Which one?
The first or the second?
Several years ago,
I had been diagnosed with prostate cancer.
Although the treatment was successful,
I had nevertheless withdrawn to my cabin in the woods,
away from the expectations and entanglements of modern life.
In the year that followed my meeting Coleman,
the time it took him to write his book,
we had dinner together several times a week.
Sometimes playing penny a point gin rummy,
sometimes listening to music that came from a small FM station in Springfield
that played big band hits from the forties and fifties.
It was during that time
that Coleman dragged me back to life, much as he had Athena College.
- What's with the book? - The book has come and gone.
- Meaning? - Meaning it's worthless.
Yeah.
You can't make a college without breaking eggheads,
and, I couldn't write a book called Spooks
that didn't sound like the ravings of a lunatic.
So... all this is useless.
Unless you count the dubious thrill of re-reading old love letters.
Who's the girl?
- That's Steena Paulsson. - Very pretty.
- Yeah. - This you?
Yeah, that's me.
I met her when I was at N.Y.U.
And, it was in 1948 and I was on the GI Bill with the Navy behind me.
At that time I used to live in the Village in those days,
and I used to go into the library.
It was just like fishing. I'd go into the stacks and come out with a girl.
Steena Paulsson. Yeah, I almost married her.
Hi.
This book will change your life, I promise.
I can't stay long.
Come on in. Just take me a minute to find it.
Oh, this is beautiful. I have two roommates
and we live in this dungeon at the bottom of an air shaft on West 26th Street.
- Would you like some coffee? - No. Thank you. I should get back.
It's just one cup. That's all, I promise.
And the, uh, the library stays open until ten.
- Sure. Why not? - Good.
- How do you take it? - Black is fine, thanks.
- So "Steena Paulsson." That's, - what is that Swedish?
Close. It's Danish and Icelandic.
- So you're not from New York? - How could you tell?
Fergus Falls, Minnesota.
Well Miss Steena Paulsson from Fergus Falls, Minnesota
this is my gift for you.
Tender is the Night. F. Scott Fitzgerald.
He's from the Midwest, too.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
The coffee?
Coffee.
What happened?
- To what? - The cut over your eye.
Oh uh, boxing. It's just a hobby.
You like that sort of thing?
Yes, I do.
I mean, don't get the wrong idea. It's not about strength.
It's really all about how smart you are.
Are you smart. Miss Paulsson?
What do you think, Mr. Silk?
I think you'd make a great boxer.
Good answer.
Well, come on. Let's see.
- See what? - Show me.
- Show you what? - Show me how good you are.
Okay.
- Okay. You're right-handed? - Yes.
All right. Put your left leg forward, your right leg back.
Bend at the knees.
Okay? Two fists.
Bring your right one back by your chin. Keep it cocked here.
Left one comes out in front of you. That's what you jab with.
All right. And your thumbs are on the outside,
yeah? Okay. It's like this
- Jab. Jab. Jab. - Jab. Jab. Jab.
That's pretty good for starters.
Um, your right hand, throw that in once in a while.
Just to mix the other guy up.
It's a right cross. Like this
- Jab. Jab right. - Jab. Jab right.
- That's good. - Jab. Jab right.
- All right. The hands. - Okay. I'm getting hot.
Jab. Jab right. Jab. Jab right.
Nice. Keep the right back by your chin.
Okay. Jab. Jab right. Jab. Jab right.
- Watch the hands. - Stop moving! Jab. Jab right.
- Jab. Jab right. - That's good.
Jab. Jab right. Jab. Jab right!
Did I hurt you?
No.
Your heart's beating fast.
I can't believe this.
Me neither.
I guess we do things a little differently back home.
Yes, I can imagine.
First, first we'd be eyeing each other in church, on Sundays, right?
And then as fall slipped into winter and the air turned cold,
there'd be sleigh rides skating on frozen lakes
singing carols around the yuletide.
You forgot logrolling and dunking for apples.
Go on, then. Give me the straight dope.
- Tell me about real American courtship. - You're American. Jews are American.
Now listen.
That's Irving Berlin.
I hear that and everything in me just sort of unclenches, and the
the wish not to die
never to die becomes almost too great to bear.
Come on, dance with me.
Come on, dance with me!
- I'm not making a pass at you. Come on. - No-No-No.
Loosen up. Live a little!
Take it easy. Come on, loosen up, relax!
Just don't sing in my ear, all right?
- All right, all right. - Come on.
This is good. It's good for you.
Turn around. Beautiful.
Good. A little spin.
Away!
Get away!
Really good. You're really good!
I'm having an affair, Nathan.
I'm having an affair with a thirty-four year-old woman
and I can't tell you what it's done to me.
I think I have a pretty good idea.
When this stuff comes back so late in life
completely unexpected completely unwanted
it comes back with such force
there's nothing you can do about it.
There's nothing to dilute it.
And when she's thirty-four?
And ignitable, Nathan.
Ignitable.
Ever hear of something called Viagra?
Well, without Viagra
I could continue into my declining years
and still draw profound philosophical conclusions
and still have a steadying moral influence on the young.
Without Viagra
I would not be doing something that makes no sense at all
something that is ill-considered
and potentially disastrous for all concerned.
Just where exactly did you find this astounding woman?
- We're closing. - Two minutes, that's all I need.
- I said we're closing. - Two minutes, I promise.
It's okay. Thank you.
Couldn't wait until tomorrow, huh?
No, it's my sister's birthday.
Good. Thank you.
Hi, Phil.
Are you telling me, Mr. Starr,
you believe the President of the United States was lying?
You know as a witness when you take an oath,
it's a sacred obligation if you are a believer,
that you're going to tell the truth, and you say, "So help me, God."
I mean, this is very serious business.
- You got car trouble? - Every other day.
Can I give you a lift?
- Where can I drop you? - Uh, Nickerson's.
- That's the dairy farm. - Yeah.
- You mind if I smoke? - No. Go ahead.
Yeah, two dykes run it.
They give me a room in exchange for doing the milking.
So you work at the post office and the dairy farm?
And the college.
Faunia Farley custodial staff.
It says so on my name tag.
Like to keep busy, huh?
Action is the enemy of thought.
Who said that?
- Thanks for the lift. - Okay.
Want to come in?
- You mean now? - Mm-hm.
I haven't been this close to a woman for
Since your wife died. I know.
Listen, um, we should get something straight.
If you're looking for sympathy, you've come to the wrong place.
I'm...
I don't do sympathy.
Uh-huh.
Hey... Whatever.
- Thanks for the ride. - Okay. Take care.
Oh, God.
- Hi. - Hi.
It's nothing personal, but, uh, you got to go.
I just...
I don't want to wake up in the morning and have you here, so
- Like I said, it's nothing personal. - Okay.
Will I see you again?
You can't much miss me.
What's that?
The question is will I see you again?
What are you thinking?
- I'm thinking you're going to ruin it. - No, I'm not.
Yes, you are. Just leave it alone.
Don't try and get inside my head.
Why do we have to talk?
All right. All right, have it your way.
- I was thinking I'm a crow. - A crow, why a crow?
- Mm-mm. - Your turn.
- I was wondering what it's like making love - Fucking.
All right. What's it like fucking an old man?
It's perfect. No surprises.
What's it like being out of a job?
It's lonely. Like you, I guess.
My turn, huh?
Aside from that wreck of a car, you don't seem to have any possessions.
No books, no pictures
Action is the enemy of thought.
All right.
My life story. Is that what you want?
Fine.
I grew up with a lot of possessions.
My father was rich. Real rich. Lots of servants.
The whole nine yards.
Don't you believe me?
Mm-hm, yeah, I believe you.
Then my parents got divorced and my mother remarried.
The thing is, this one couldn't keep his hands off me.
Bedtime stories were his specialty. Hey, sweetheart, let me read you a story.
Next thing you know,
fingers in me.
You don't have to tell me this.
Hey, you asked.
Told my mother. She didn't believe me. Nobody believed me.
When I was fourteen, he tried to fuck me. That's when I split. I went to Florida.
Did a little of this and that.
I don't know.
You know, girl like me always get by.
No possessions. Travel light.
Real nice.
Did you hear something?
Hear what? I don't hear anything.
What is it?
It's Les.
Who's Les?
He's my ex-husband.
He...
He follows me around. I can feel him. He's out there somewhere.
I can handle him.
I used to be a pretty good boxer.
Listen to me. I'm not kidding.
He's out of his fucking mind. He was in Nam. He did two tours of duty.
He used to beat me up.
One time it was so bad he put me in a coma for two days.
Hey. There's nobody there.
I can feel him. I think he...
There's nobody there.
Did you ever kill anyone in Vietnam, Mr. Farley?
Did I kill anyone?
Isn't that what I was supposed to do when I was sent to fucking Vietnam? Fucking kill gooks?
They said, "Everything goes,"
so everything went.
Look, let's get something straight right from the start.
I never hurt her. Okay?
Never.
And I never hurt the kids.
That was all lies.
She never cared about anybody but herself.
I should have never let her go off with the kids.
She...
You sure it's all right if I smoke?
She waited until I was in rehab.
That's why she wanted me in re-hab to start with, so she could take the kids
She used the whole thing against me to get the kids away.
She had no right to steal my kids.
Now she's fucking this old Jew.
I should have killed her back then.
This is nice.
I'm sorry, madam. Smoking is prohibited in the restaurant. Thank you.
I'm sorry about that. Most restaurants seem to ban smoking.
You okay?
Is this okay for you?
Sure.
It's good food. They say.
I don't know if this is such a good idea, you know.
It's fine. It's a fine restaurant. They specialize in fish and all that stuff.
Sorry I'm late.
Oh, hi. Hi, Nathan. This is, uh, this is Faunia.
Uh, this is my friend Nathan Zuckerman and I asked him to join us.
Nathan is a writer, a good writer,
and uh What was that prize you almost won?
Oh, never mind, never mind. I've been, uh, I've been teaching Coleman how to play gin rummy.
Teach me? You owe me ten bucks.
You're full of surprises, aren't you?
What do you mean? What's the matter?
Okay? I just wanted you to meet a friend of mine,
So, Coleman's told me so much about you.
Really? He hasn't told me shit about you.
What did he tell you? That he's fucking a cleaning lady?
Why are you doing this to me?
You want somebody to talk to? You have a good time. I'm out of here.
I'm sorry about that.
Well, you've really come down in the world, haven't you? Huh?
Dean of the college, professor of Classics
Look what you ended up with.
The thing is, you can't handle fucking someone that you can't take to a fancy restaurant.
Let's just end it, you know?
Just end it, end it right now.
You don't get it, do you?
I can't.
I simply can't.
Turn off the fucking light!
It's Les.
Don't worry, I already called the cops. They'll be here any minute.
They know how to deal with him, all right? We just have to wait.
What the fuck are you doing?
You can't go out there. He's fucking crazy.
Yeah, so am I.
Hey, Farley!
What do you want Farley?
Come on out of there, you murdering bitch!
- Did she tell you? Did she? - What?
Did she tell you she was giving some guy a blowjob while her kids were catching on fire, did she? Did she tell you that?
Get away from here or I'll brain you!
- Get away! - Put that fucking thing down before I ram it through your fucking skull!
That's my wife you're fucking in there!
I want to talk to her.
Hi, baby.
Hi, sweetheart.
Go home. Come on.
It's all right. I can...
Come on, go home. You hear that?
- I had to call the cops. - Ah, what'd you do that for?
You're always fucking doing that. I just want to talk to you
you murdering fucking cunt.
Come on, darling, there's enough time
What are you fucking this old guy for anyhow?
Get away from her.
Come on. We'll go for a ride.
I'll bring you right back, I promise.
Fuck 'em.
- Come on. - No.
They know me. They're not going to do anything.
I'll bring you right back, I swear to God.
I don't want to talk to you.
Come on Get your fucking hands off of me!
Fuck!
This is payback for what I did in Nam.
This is what I fucking get for saving my fucking country!
All the shit I went through.
I come home to some murdering bitch
treats me like garbage!
Please no more of this!
No more!
You wanted to know why I didn't have any possessions.
I guess you found out.
This is what's left of my kids.
This.
It was an accident,
and he knows. He knows the truth.
There was a... There was a heater
and it...
it tipped over, and the place...
the place caught fire.
I don't know, do I keep them? Do I bury them?
I don't know. What?
Got any bright ideas? Huh?
Is this all too trailer trash for you?
Is that it?
Get the fuck out of here. You hear me?
What do I do?
Please go.
Everyone knows you're exploiting an abused woman half your age.
Well, if this doesn't take the cake.
What's more, I know damn well who wrote this.
Who?
Delphine Roux.
Professor of Languages and Literature. I hired her, for Christ's sakes. I hired all of them.
Why would she send you something like this?
I've no idea. How the hell should I know? You're my lawyer. Send her a letter. Warn her off.
She'll just deny that she ever
That's her writing. Any handwriting expert will confirm that.
Coleman, Listen, forget about the letter. What are you going to do about Lester Farley?
I'll get an injunction. A restraining order. I don't know.
Have you any idea what you're getting into here, Coleman?
You want me to fight a legal war for you on two fronts.
One of them with a phantom correspondent, and the other with a lunatic.
I can get you a handwriting expert. I can get you a bulletproof vest.
But what I can't provide is what you're never going to know as long as you're involved with this woman
A scandal-free life. Is she HIV-negative, by the way?
Did you have her tested, Coleman?
Did you use a condom, Coleman? And if you don't use protection, does she?
How do you know she doesn't want to use you to make up for all that she's lost?
Do I represent you in a paternity suit, Coleman?
Give up the girl, Achilles.
I took your Intro to European Lit umpteen years ago as an undergrad.
Give her up, and your troubles go away.
Faunia Farley is not in your league and she's not from your world.
Last night, you got a good look at her world.
The fact is...
she ain't worth it.
Achilles on Viagra. How much sense does that make anyway?
Ah, Nelson.
I'm sorry, have you quite finished?
Yes.
Nelson, you're a genuine vocal master.
And so rich with contempt for every last human problem you've never had to face.
Listen, I was only
No, you listen.
I never again want to hear that self-admiring voice of yours,
or see your smug, lily-white face.
Coleman, use the left!
Good! Good-Good-Good! Yeah.
- Get out of the corner - Finish it off, finish it off
That's enough. That's enough.
Next week, West Point.
Oh, come on, Doc. That guy's got five pounds on me.
But he's slow. You can take him easy.
Besides, the coach of Pitt is gonna be there. He's a buddy of mine.
I want him to see you fight.
- So? - So?
Once he sees your stuff, and once I tell him about your grades,
I'm pretty sure he'll offer you a scholarship.
I can't go to Pitt! My father wants me to go to Howard.
- He's an optician, your dad? - Used to be.
He lost his business in the Depression.
Well, look, Coleman. Just box for the guy, that's all.
- Then we'll see what happens. - Okay
One thing.
When you meet the guy from Pitt, don't tell him you're colored, okay?
- Don't tell him? - Don't bring it up.
You're neither one thing nor the other. You're Silky Silk, that's all.
- He won't know? - How's he going to know?
Here's the top kid from East Orange High and he's with Doc Chizner.
He's going to think you're Jewish.
- You're late! - I know.
- Walter's home on leave. - Hide this for me, will you?
Sorry I'm late.
Hey, Mom.
- Walt. - Cole.
- How are you? - Fine.
So what's this I hear about you being class valedictorian?
It's all true.
Hey, with the only 4.0 grade average, who else were they going to choose?
Yes, we're very proud of Coleman.
- May I inquire how you did, Cole? - How I did?
Today in the boxing ring.
I'm asking whether you won or lost your bout.
- Did you tell him? - Kindly answer my question.
I won.
How many fights have you won?
Eleven.
And how many have you lost?
- None. - So far.
Just when were you planning on turning professional?
- Dad, I don't think - This does not concern you, Walter.
I asked you a question, young man.
Doc says I could get an athletic scholarship.
Maybe to Pitt.
Like Walter, you will go to Howard.
And after Howard, should you choose to become a doctor,
you will not be doing your hands any good
pummeling them in a boxing ring, will you?
You know, Coleman, if I were your father, do you know what I would tell you now?
- You are my father. - I'm not at all sure.
I was thinking Doc Chizner was your father.
He's my coach. That's all.
He teaches me how to fight. You're my father.
Well, if I were your father, do you know what I would tell you now?
I would say, "You won today. Good.
Now you can retire undefeated."
You're retired.
If you'll excuse me, I don't wish to be late for my train.
Boy!
Yes, sir?
This fish is overcooked.
Very sorry. I will attend to it right away, sir.
Cowards die many times before their death.
The valiant only taste death but once.
Of all the rumors that I yet have heard,
it seems to me most strange that men should fear
seeing that death, a necessary end,
will come when it will come.
Clarence Silk knew well these words from Julius Caesar.
He was a man of great intellect,
unflinching courage, and an uncompromising honor.
But above all else, he was devoted to his family.
His wife, Dorothy, his sons, Walter and Coleman,
and his pride and joy, young Ernestine.
Clarence Silk was the finest man I've ever met.
Coleman?
You're on duty? Tonight?
It's better this way. For me, anyway.
I never knew him, Mom.
Not really.
I didn't have any idea what he went through
day after day after day.
I don't believe he wanted you to know, dear.
He couldn't see the point.
The point is
if you're colored
it doesn't matter how much you know. You work in the dining car.
He did that so you wouldn't have to.
Coleman, you don't have to worry.
Your father's insurance and your academic record
will see to it that you get into Howard.
I heard all about Howard from Walt.
He said they're always talking about the Negro people
about "we, the Negro people."
I'm not a political person, Mom. I don't understand who this "we" is.
Who do you think you are?
- I know who I am. - You need to be proud of your race.
What about me?
What about just being proud of being me?
It's my life. Or don't I get any say in the matter?
Coleman, I'm not clever enough to argue with you.
Then don't. Don't let's argue.
I love you, Mom. But don't ask me to go there.
Coleman, you're barely eighteen years old.
What are you going to do?
Have a seat.
You have a registration card?
Yes.
Welcome to the Navy, young man.
So what did the lawyer say?
He was more worried about Lester Farley?
Yeah. I don't want to talk about Lester Farley.
Anyway, I can handle him.
Coleman, you yourself told me that Lester Farley is a psychotic
who's been locked up in the mental ward at the VA hospital. Twice!
Let me ask you something.
What do you think would have happened last night
if the police hadn't shown up when they had?
Lester Farley is not going to just disappear off the face of the earth.
This kind of thing is going to happen again,
and when it does, next time uh, you might not be so lucky.
So... I just throw her to the wolves. It's just like that, huh?
I'm not thinking about her. I'm thinking about you.
Nathan. She's waiting for that. To her, sex and betrayal are synonymous.
Coleman, every mistake a man can make usually has a sexual accelerator.
The things that restore you can also destroy you.
Yeah, I know that.
And I'll tell you something. I don't give a damn.
These things don't come without a cost.
Look-Look what's happening here.
People are saying that you got her pregnant
and she had an abortion and tried to kill herself.
Uh-huh. And what else are they saying, Nathan?
Hm? What else are they saying, Nathan?
Don't you look at me like that.
I know this is bullshit. I'm your friend, remember?
Then act like a friend!
Stop judging me, and stop judging her!
Jesus Christ!
So what do you want me to say?
I just want you to acknowledge that
something important is taking place between me and this woman.
Something that's worthy of respect.
I guess you were right. This really is about great sex.
Oh, fuck you, too.
Coleman! Coleman.
Okay.
Granted, she's not my first love. Granted, she's not my great love.
But she sure as hell is my last love.
Doesn't that count for something?
Enough to risk getting killed for?
I'm not afraid of dying, Nathan.
I'm not the one who ran off to a cabin in the woods to hide.
Dance for me.
One dance, for me.
Sure. Why not?
Why not?
This is more than sex.
No, it's not. You just forgot what sex is.
Did I?
Don't fall in love with me, Coleman.
We're just a man and a woman, in a room, alone, right here, right now.
Nothing else matters. Don't fuck it up.
Dance for me. Come on.
You're way too young for me.
I need a man much older than you. Someone at least a hundred.
You know anyone in a wheelchair?
I see you, Coleman.
You want to know what I see?
- I see everything. - Is that a fact?
- You imagine you kept secrets from me? - You never know.
Thank you.
- Mr. Wilson, can you watch the register? - Yeah.
Can I help you?
Yes. Um...
I was looking for Rachmaninoff's Third Piano Concerto, the, uh...
- The Horowitz recording? - Yes, that's right.
Right this way.
Did you go to East Orange High School?
Yes. Yes, I did.
I thought you looked familiar. Charley Hamilton's my cousin.
I haven't seen him in a while. How's he been?
He's good. He's good. Actually, I think he's getting married.
Good for him. Now the Rachmaninoff please.
Is that your girlfriend?
Yes. Yes it is. Look,
maybe I should come back some other time
- and then we can talk, okay? - Fine. Here.
That'll do the trick a lot better than Rachmaninoff.
Dance for me.
That has got to be the single most sexy dance
ever danced by a girl from Fergus Falls
in the history of the world.
I love you.
I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
I want to spend my life with you.
What are you doing Sunday?
Nothing. Why?
On Sunday
we're taking the train to New Jersey
to have dinner with my mother.
Okay.
Okay?
I'd like that.
Oh, I hope she likes me.
I hope the chocolates are okay.
Chocolates'll be fine.
Maybe I should have gotten flowers.
There was a place back at the station I could get
Chocolates will be fine. And you'll be fine.
Okay.
You know, this is my old paper route.
That's where I crashed my bike into Mr. Harris' front porch.
Which one?
Right over there. My father made me pay for the damage.
To the bike and the porch.
Uh... I'm scared.
I love you.
You know that, don't you?
I love you, too.
Hi.
Sorry we're late.
Mother, this is Steena Paulsson.
Steena, this is my mother.
How lovely. Please come in.
It's quite a beautiful city, Fergus Falls.
It's quite unusual, because we have the Otter Tail Lake
and the Otter Tail River very close to each other.
My father owns a small hardware supply store, a lumberyard there.
He's the disorganized one.
He cuts himself and doesn't even bother to wash it.
They're tough, those Icelanders.
I actually didn't even know they were called Icelanders, growing up.
My mother, she's a Rasmussen. She's the opposite.
Sets the table for Saturday dinner at five the night before.
I guess I was sort of caught between the two extremes and so
I decided to get away for college out of their reach, so to speak.
And that's how I came to New York.
I've never been to the Midwest, but I'm sure I'd like it.
Coleman, wouldn't you like to see the Midwest?
New York City. Final destination Penn Station, Neew York City.
Steena?
Honey, we're almost there.
Honey.
I can't do this, Coleman.
I love you.
I love you, but I can't.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Saint Nicholas Arena.
Tonight, in our opening battle, from East Orange, New Jersey
weighing a hundred and sixty-two pounds, Coleman "Silky" Silk!
A record five wins and no losses!
From Rochester, New York, weighing a hundred and seventy pounds,
Sugar "Pete" Cunningham!
A record six wins, one loss.
Take it easy with the guy, okay?
Let's give the people their money's worth.
Dance him around for three, four rounds, then go to work.
Hey, kid. Hey!
I asked you nicely to give folks their money's worth.
You could have stopped the forth round instead of the first.
I'm a hundred and sixty-two pounds. He's a hundred and seventy.
I'm supposed to let him hit me in the head
five, ten, extra times to put on a show?
I ain't holding up no nigger.
It's beautiful, isn't it?
I have to go.
Stay tonight.
Mm-mm.
No. I never stay.
Just this once.
Hi. Good morning.
Would you like some breakfast? Uh... Eggs Benedict and ham?
Sit down. Please.
Like some coffee?
No milk, huh?
Okay. There you go.
Looks like Monica Lewinsky isn't going to get a job in New York for the time being.
Can't you avoid the fucking seminar?
Does fucking Monica care if my back hurts from milking those fucking cows?
Does she fucking care that I have to clean up other people's shit in the fucking post office?
You think losing your job when you're about to retire anyway is a big fucking deal?
I hate to tell you.
It ain't.
Having your stepfather put his fingers in your cunt, that's a big deal.
Having your husband come up behind you with an iron pipe and hit you in the fucking head.
That's a big deal.
Having your two kids suffocating and fucking dying!
That is a big fucking deal!
Don't you have anymore to say?
I knew I shouldn't have stayed.
It was a mistake.
Even whores know better. They know.
Men don't pay you to sleep with them. They pay you to fucking go home.
Hey, Prince.
Hey, how you doing?
How you doing there, my Prince?
Come here.
Honey, it's Faunia.
How you doing?
Did you forget me? I wanted to come and see you, but I couldn't.
I haven't seen you in... it must be three, four, months.
Prince missed you.
He got out the other day. I thought he was gonna go looking for you.
The other birds attacked him. They would've killed him.
He doesn't have the right voice.
It's because he's hand-raised.
He's been hanging around people like us all his life.
A crow that doesn't know how to be a crow.
The first time I tried,
it was a month after they died.
I got all dressed up. Even my mother would have been proud.
You know I called her?
I did.
Called her to tell her my kids were dead.
Mom, it's Faunia.
Twenty years. No call for twenty years.
She said
"Oh, I don't know anybody by that name" and hung up.
Bitch.
I remember the Gin, the Valium.
And then that rat poison was bitter.
So I fold it into the pudding.
Felt good.
Why did they have to break the door down?
I mean. Come on.
Even...even the nurse said-she said later,
There wasn't a heartbeat. Not when they first showed up.
Couldn't even get that right, could I?
You and I...
were made for each other.
Marry me.
I think I made a mistake this morning.
Faunia Farley, custodial staff, you know?
Just, uh... just doing my thing.
So where were you?
I was starting to get worried.
I walked around. Went to a movie.
Listen, I'm...
I'm sorry.
Everything that I said, and everything that I did, I...
You were right.
What happened to me is nothing.
No. You lost everything. You lost your wife, you lost your job.
They took your life away from you over a stupid, pissy little word. That's not nothing.
Maybe.
I don't think you can measure sorrow.
I brought you these. They're doughnuts.
They're from the... from the doughnut store. Jelly.
Listen, if you don't want me...
If you want me to go, you know, then I understand that because...
I understand and I won't blame you.
What are you smiling at?
Just so happy to see you.
Same here.
I'm happy, too.
Listen, there's something I need to tell you.
It seemed impossible to me
that someone as vital as Coleman could have been killed in what the police called,
a freak accident.
The more I thought I about it, the more I began to feel that Coleman and Faunia
could not have died without the presence, somewhere nearby,
of Lester Farley and his pickup truck.
At what point did you get in your truck that morning?
Before sunup.
Why did you get in your truck?
To get him.
To get who?
The Jew professor.
Why were you going to get him?
Because I had to.
You were going to kill him?
Oh, yes. All of us. That was the plan.
There was planning, then.
There was no planning.
- Uh, but you knew what you were doing. - Yes.
But you didn't plan it?
No.
Did you think you were back in Vietnam?
No Vietnam.
Were you thinking about the kids? Was this payback?
No payback.
Weren't you trying to get revenge to take revenge for that?
No. No revenge.
Were you depressed?
No. No depression.
Angry?
No more anger.
But you drove your truck into their car.
I didn't kill them.
They killed themselves.
What do you think?
I checked with the police and
there are no skid marks at the site of the accident, no sign of a collision.
I think Lester Farley is delusional.
Completely delusional.
My name is Herbert Keble.
And I am among those who...
failed to rise to Coleman's defense
when he was accused of racism.
Coleman, I can't be with you on this.
That is what I said to my everlasting shame.
I should have spoken up...
to say then what I want to say now
in the presence of his former colleagues
that the alleged misconduct never took place.
Coleman Silk and his wife, Iris,
were betrayed by the moral stupidity
of a censorious and coercive community.
And I was a part of that community.
We all were.
Mrs. Keble.
My name is Nathan Zuckerman. I was a friend of Coleman's.
I thought your husband's speech was...
I'm not Mrs. Keble.
Are you?
I'm Coleman Silk's sister.
Iris. Nice name.
And when is the happy day?
June 14th.
Have you told her?
When will you?
You plan on bringing her home for dinner?
I told her my parents are dead.
Dead?
You have no brother? You have no sister?
There's no Ernestine? There's no Walter?
I don't want to be Coleman Silk, the Negro Classics professor.
And that's how it would always come out, Mom.
You know it, and I know it.
Funny, I never thought of you as black or white.
Gold. You were my golden child.
Look, Mom...
I haven't...
I haven't figured the whole thing out yet.
Will you have children?
Yes, I suppose so.
You aren't going to let them see me, are you?
My grandchildren.
Mom, you'll tell me
sit in the waiting room in Penn Station at 11:15 a.m.
I'll walk by with my kids in their Sunday best.
That'll be my birthday present five years from now.
And you know I'll be there.
But aren't you...
taking a risk having children?
The suspense will be unbearable.
Suppose they don't pop out of her womb as white as you?
Won't you have some explaining to do?
Will you accuse her of adultery with a Negro?
I have to go now, Mom.
Coleman...
you think like a prisoner.
You're white as snow and you think like a slave.
Murderer.
Is that the doorbell?
I'll get it.
Don't you ever come near Mom again.
You don't call, you don't write, you don't nothing.
I never want to see your lily-white face again.
And your mother obeyed Walter.
All the Silk men...
from my father on down, are very decisive.
Yes, she did it. But I didn't.
I was trying to reach him two days ago. It was his birthday.
The day after he was killed.
I don't blame Walter. He was only trying to protect Mother.
And was he successful?
Just before she died, she was delirious.
She kept saying...
Oh, nurse...
get me to the train. I've got a sick baby at home.
Is Walter still alive?
Yes.
We are all a family of teachers.
Mr. Zuckerman, I wish my parents could have known that...
Walter was the first colored superintendent of a school in the state of New Jersey.
I guess you can tell what generation I am. I still say "colored" and "Negro".
Did you know why your brother resigned from the college?
I gather he was accused of racism.
That beats it all, doesn't it?
For using the word "spooks."
Sounds like from what I heard today, almost anything goes nowadays.
People are just getting dumber but more opinionated.
You know what's sad, Mr. Zuckerman?
Nowadays, it's hard to imagine
that anyone would do what Coleman felt he had to do.
Constructing his whole life around a lie.
Coleman could have stopped that racism charge in its tracks,
if he'd only told the truth.
But that's the one thing he couldn't do.
Do you think he ever told anyone?
Maybe.
Maybe someone.
It was during my conversation with Ernestine that I decided to write this book.
Not the book that Coleman had asked me to write, but one that he could not write himself.
The story of his mother and father, of Walter and Ernestine,
of Steena Paulsson and of Faunia.
Finally, there was one thing I needed to do.
To face the person I was certain was responsible for my friend's death.
I was just driving around and saw your truck.
Beautiful spot.
Peaceful.
Long as I can keep it secret.
Only now I know.
You're the writer, aren't you?
That I am.
Any luck?
Not much.
What do you think about out here when the fish aren't biting?
I was thinking if I had a son, he'd be out here with me now, fishing.
That's what I was thinking about when you walked out here.
Don't you have a son?
No.
Never married?
Doomed. My marriage was doomed.
When back from Vietnam, I had posttraumatic stress disorder.
I used to get in my truck and drive around for hours.
My buddies were afraid that I was gonna die in a car accident.
Were you ever in a car accident?
I would have known if I were.
Still have PTSD?
I still tend to isolate, don't I? What do you think I'm doing out here?
No more car accidents?
Never were any car accidents. Don't you listen?
What kind of books you write?
I write about people like you.
Their problems.
You live at Mike Dumouchel's place, right? The cabin on the lake.
What's the name of one of your books?
The Human Stain.
Can I get it?
It's not finished.
You know, I started ice fishing after my wife left me.
All you need is warm clothes and the right equipment.
Like this auger.
You drill a hole through the ice. This'll cut through just about anything.
Then you drop your line with your favorite lure right through.
Any flash down there, fish are attracted, even in the dark.
And it's way dark down there.
And if I had a son...
little Les, a son of my own,
I reckon I'd be telling him all this stuff instead of you.
It's cold out here.
You better believe it.
I should be going.
Yeah, well, you know your ice fishing now, don't you? You can put it in your book.
I will.
And you know my secret place.
You know everything now, don't you, Mr. Zuckerman?
But you won't tell, will you?
And, hey!
The book. Send me one.
It's in the mail.