Read Online God's Grace by Bernard Malamud - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Bernard Malamud
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the Lord’s Prayer/// pong-pong.”
“How did he teach you that?”
“He taught it to me in sign longuoge/// but now I know it is words thot I hov in my head/// pong-pong.”
“Did he perform the operation on your larynx?”
Buz coughed metallically. “If he hod waited another weeg or two I would hov done it myzelf/// I was already talging on my libs but he didn’t hear it/// I would hov talged oz I do now/// pong-pong.”
“How—without a proper larynx ?”
“Because onimals con talg///” Buz told him. “We talg among ourselves/// Maybe someday you will hear our phonemes oz we hear yours/// If you con communicade with one living onimal/// you con communicade with all
his relations/// It is pozzible if you will odmid the pozzibility ///”
Cohn said it seemed a reasonable possibility. “Belief itself may not be that easy, but I want to believe. In fact, after hearing you in action, I do. I imagine your experience contains an evolutionary factor in it, and I see it as real and believable.”
Cohn went on: “What an extraordinary opportunity it provides to understand the nature of communication and development of speech in man. I bet I could make an important contribution in semantics, and I greatly regret there’s no one but us, and maybe George, to behold this miracle.”
“There’s Jesus of Nozoroth///” Buz said.
“Maybe,” said Cohn.
Buz said that was beyond question.
Withal a miracle, Cohn felt; he was deeply moved, still amazed, all but overwhelmed. Despite his eccentricities Dr. Walther Bünder had been an extraordinary scientist; and Buz—God bless—was a genius chimp.
Now I will have an intelligent companion as long as we both shall live. Cohn dabbed his eyes with his woolen handkerchief.
The chimp, observing this, tried to squeeze out a tear but failed.
Cohn said not to worry, he would teach him how, among other things.
“Sholl I call you moster/// pong-pong?”
“Call me Cal, or if you like, call me Dad.”
“Dod///” said Buz, “pong-pong.”
Cohn, with a pair of ratnose pliers, tightened Buz’s neck wires, and that ended the pong-pong. The chimp said he hadn’t minded the redundant sound so long as he could clearly say the rest of a sentence. His articulation improved, and in a short while he lost almost every trace of Dr. Bünder’s accent and enunciated consonants and most vowels correctly.
Cohn praised him for being a good lad. They laid arms around each other and affectionately kissed.
Buz began his language studies diligently assisted by Cohn, who read him selected pages in the dictionary. Cohn redefined the definitions, not always to Buz’s satisfaction. At first the chimp felt a word should mean what it looked like. He wanted an aardvark to be a snail in its shell, hoping the aard was the snail and the vark its cubicle. Later he accepted the aardvark as a termite eater and called the snail a disgusting slug.
Their dictionary study pleased Buz, and he wondered if it would improve his vocabulary if he ate a few pages now and then, but Cohn forbade that for all time.
Nonetheless he made satisfactory progress. He was not timid in guessing the meaning of words he didn’t know, that Cohn used, and asking about others. One day he had a remarkable insight: “What you don’t say means something too.” Cohn agreed. That was a breakthrough point, and thereafter Buz made faster progress in his mastery of language. Cohn was overjoyed by his semantic talent.
Buz one day wanted to know who had invented language.
Cohn said man. “That’s what made him superior to all the other creatures.”
“If he was so superior where is he now?”
“Here I am,” said Cohn.
“I mean the humon race?”
Cohn, on reflection, admitted maybe God had invented language. “The word began the world. Nor would anyone have known there was a monotheistic God if He hadn’t proclaimed it.”
Buz said that maybe Jesus had invented language.
Cohn said, “He spoke well but the
“How did he teach you that?”
“He taught it to me in sign longuoge/// but now I know it is words thot I hov in my head/// pong-pong.”
“Did he perform the operation on your larynx?”
Buz coughed metallically. “If he hod waited another weeg or two I would hov done it myzelf/// I was already talging on my libs but he didn’t hear it/// I would hov talged oz I do now/// pong-pong.”
“How—without a proper larynx ?”
“Because onimals con talg///” Buz told him. “We talg among ourselves/// Maybe someday you will hear our phonemes oz we hear yours/// If you con communicade with one living onimal/// you con communicade with all
his relations/// It is pozzible if you will odmid the pozzibility ///”
Cohn said it seemed a reasonable possibility. “Belief itself may not be that easy, but I want to believe. In fact, after hearing you in action, I do. I imagine your experience contains an evolutionary factor in it, and I see it as real and believable.”
Cohn went on: “What an extraordinary opportunity it provides to understand the nature of communication and development of speech in man. I bet I could make an important contribution in semantics, and I greatly regret there’s no one but us, and maybe George, to behold this miracle.”
“There’s Jesus of Nozoroth///” Buz said.
“Maybe,” said Cohn.
Buz said that was beyond question.
Withal a miracle, Cohn felt; he was deeply moved, still amazed, all but overwhelmed. Despite his eccentricities Dr. Walther Bünder had been an extraordinary scientist; and Buz—God bless—was a genius chimp.
Now I will have an intelligent companion as long as we both shall live. Cohn dabbed his eyes with his woolen handkerchief.
The chimp, observing this, tried to squeeze out a tear but failed.
Cohn said not to worry, he would teach him how, among other things.
“Sholl I call you moster/// pong-pong?”
“Call me Cal, or if you like, call me Dad.”
“Dod///” said Buz, “pong-pong.”
Cohn, with a pair of ratnose pliers, tightened Buz’s neck wires, and that ended the pong-pong. The chimp said he hadn’t minded the redundant sound so long as he could clearly say the rest of a sentence. His articulation improved, and in a short while he lost almost every trace of Dr. Bünder’s accent and enunciated consonants and most vowels correctly.
Cohn praised him for being a good lad. They laid arms around each other and affectionately kissed.
Buz began his language studies diligently assisted by Cohn, who read him selected pages in the dictionary. Cohn redefined the definitions, not always to Buz’s satisfaction. At first the chimp felt a word should mean what it looked like. He wanted an aardvark to be a snail in its shell, hoping the aard was the snail and the vark its cubicle. Later he accepted the aardvark as a termite eater and called the snail a disgusting slug.
Their dictionary study pleased Buz, and he wondered if it would improve his vocabulary if he ate a few pages now and then, but Cohn forbade that for all time.
Nonetheless he made satisfactory progress. He was not timid in guessing the meaning of words he didn’t know, that Cohn used, and asking about others. One day he had a remarkable insight: “What you don’t say means something too.” Cohn agreed. That was a breakthrough point, and thereafter Buz made faster progress in his mastery of language. Cohn was overjoyed by his semantic talent.
Buz one day wanted to know who had invented language.
Cohn said man. “That’s what made him superior to all the other creatures.”
“If he was so superior where is he now?”
“Here I am,” said Cohn.
“I mean the humon race?”
Cohn, on reflection, admitted maybe God had invented language. “The word began the world. Nor would anyone have known there was a monotheistic God if He hadn’t proclaimed it.”
Buz said that maybe Jesus had invented language.
Cohn said, “He spoke well but the
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