In the beginning of an extraordinary piece of fiction entitled “A Heroic Death,” the 19th century Parisian poet Charles Baudelaire noted that fools have a curious way of getting themselves in trouble. For Baudelaire, the reason for this has to do with the fact that fools don’t often think about the consequences of their actions. They are most likely more interested in a feeling, dream, or imagining that goes hand-in-hand with an intriguing action. Baudelaire’s observation resonates well with what happens to Vladmir in The Russian Debutante’s Notebook. Like Baudelaire’s fool, Vladmir dreams a lot about and his situation and, as a result of these dreams, he gets thrown into a crisis. But unlike many fools who go on in their foolishness despite what happens to them, Vladmir goes through what I call a “partial transformation.”
In yesterday’s blog entry, I cited the passage where the narrator describes the changing dreams of Vladmir. All of them, taken together, form a “curious arc”:
All in all, Vladmir’s American dreams formed a curious arc. During adolescence he dreamed of acceptance. In his brief days at college, he dreamed of love. After college, he dreamed a rather improbable dialectic of love and acceptance. And now, with love and acceptance finally in the bag, he dreamed of money. What fresh tortures would await him next? (116)
As one can see, Vladmir’s newest dream about money is what gets him in trouble. This is foreshadowed by the question at the end of the passage: “What fresh tortures would await him next?”
This passage is the preface to Vladmir’s meeting with Rybakov, his Serbian Bodyguard, and the criminal underlings of Rybakov’s son (“The Groundhog”). After receiving “gifts” from the “groundhog” (which includes “fifty cartons of Dunhill cigarettes” and a “Rolex”) and some money from Rybakov, Vladmir’s wants more. And, as I noted in yesterday’s blog, he goes to Baobab.
The narrator provides a sketch of Baobab which gives the reader the impression that he doesn’t properly think through things; he’s a schlemiel. Nonetheless, Vladmir, in his desperation for money, which he can use to pay off his credit card debt and the rent he owes to his ex-girlfriend Challah, he takes Baobab’s tip.
The tip requires Vladmir to go down to Miami and pose as the son of a man named Jordi. The masquerade is meant to fool a college admissions officer into granting Jordi’s son admission into the college; apparently, the son’s grades and intelligence are the problem and Vladmir is the solution. When Vladmir expresses worry that he may get caught, Baobab assures him:
“The place is so gargantuan the interviewer will never see the kid again. Trust me, it’s foolproof, and I don’t even think it’s terribly illegal. Impersonating a high school kid: not exactly the crime of the century, just a lame thing to do. But for twenty thousand…”(139)
When Vladmir arrives in Florida, he is picked up by Jordi who is driving a “peach Caddy.” When we first meet Jordi, we see a man of Spanish (Catalan) descent who “neither sounded nor resembled the drug dealer out of central casting, which Vladmir was expecting with some dread”(141). To be sure, Vladmir feels relieved by this appearance and trusts Jordy who looks like a “middle-aged Jew with a textile business.” In other words, Vladmir feels “as if” Jordy is a fellow Jew although he is not. This imagining takes on greater power the more time he spends with Jordi.
Strangely enough, Vladmir finds nothing peculiar when Jordi tells him that plans have changed: “My secretary screwed up our reservations, the cow,” he said. “Would you mind splitting the room with me”(144). Jokingly, Jordi says that it will be like a “slumber party.” In the innocent and trusting manner of a schlemiel, Vladmir gets excited about the “slumber party.”
Following this, Jordi and Vladmir start drinking. Jordi asks Vladmir to shave off his goatee and to go outside and get a tan (so as to look more like his son). Vladmir does so and starts seeing himself as other (namely, as a man-child). While he is out tanning, he remembers his mother and his childhood. He starts crying. At this point, he is at the height of vulnerability. After his crying, tanning, and drinking, he returns to the hotel room to find Jordi sprawled out on the bed “watching a show about a modeling agency, grunting along as the feeble bon mots flew and negligees slithered on the ground”(148).
This scene becomes more and more sexualized and Vladmir, in his innocence, doesn’t “get it.” After a day of heavy drinking, Vladmir starts feeling the alcohol:
The sun had long since disappeared when Vladmir felt the full giddy nausea of champagne drunkenness and ordered himself to stop. He sat down hard on his bed near the balcony and felt it sway a little in all directions. Something was askew, and it wasn’t just the physical universe reeling from booze. (150)
He can’t quite put his finger on it. But Jordi helps him out when he says, flat out:
“Hey, correct me if I am wrong,” Jordi said, swinging his feet between the two beds, his trunks tight with the outline of his shaft, twisted and constrained by the elastic, “but you fooled around with Baobab before, right? I mean, you’ve been with other boys.”(151)
The narrator’s description of Vladmir’s vision and astonishment is akin to a primal scene of horror. This scene, I aver, marks a major turning point in the novel and in Vladmir’s life. From this point, Vladmir takes a leap and transforms from a schlemiel into a (partial) “man” on the run.
Vladmir followed the single horrific spot of wetness along the inseam of Jordi’s trunks. “Who, us? He said, Jumping off the bed, so unsure of the fact that he had spoken the he repeated himself. “Who, us?” (151)
The modulation of “Who, us” – repetitively -works on several levels and evinces a loss of identity and meaning. Following this moment of loss, Vladmir insists that he is not interested; and when Jordi approaches him and grabs him, he punches him in the face. This punch transforms him and is the very thing that will send him out of the country and back to Eastern Europe. Before reflecting on it, the narrator recalls a memory Vladmir has of Fran, about how she was going “to make him into a human being, an indigenous citizen of the world”(152). This reflection prior to his reflection on the punch makes it explicit that the narrator equates this punch with becoming a “human being” a “citizen of the world.” The irony, however, is that one doesn’t become a “human being” by virtue of being a gentle cosmopolitan so much as by way of being a “man” who defends himself when being raped:
He had never hit a person before in his life, or heard the crunch of knuckle bone ramming cartilage…Vladmir ran. (153)
To emphasize the shift from the life of a schlemiel to the life of a man on the run, the narrator gives detailed descriptions of Vladmir’s passionate flight from Jordi, the drug dealer. The “fear gland” kicks in and takes over. And the story starts shifting into the masculine mode. To enunciate this change and make it explicit, the following chapter (chapter 16) is entitled “Getting in Wrong” and the first words, “Everything had changed,” mark the transformation I mentioned at the beginning of this blog entry.
To bring this into relief, the narrator makes something of a reading of the schlemiel equating Vladmir-as-Schlemiel with Vladmir-as-Victim:
Everything had changed. His body had been handled by a man whose intent was to hurt….How meager the insults of his childhood by comparison to what had just happened. All the miserable years of adolescence, the daily drubbing at the hands of parents and peers, had been no more than a dress rehearsal; all those years, it turned out, young Vladmir had been preparing himself for victimhood. (155)
Although this seems to be a death-toll for the schlemiel and the beginning of something new, I would like to suggest that what happens here is the shedding of one aspect of this character. It is, as I will show in the next few blogs, a partial transformation.
What I find so interesting about Shteygart’s project is the fact that, for him, the schlemiel’s masculinity is one of his main concerns. On the one hand, he finds the passivity and masochistic “victimhood” of the character to be deplorable; yet, on the other hand, and as I will show, he doesn’t want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Shteyngart is looking to strike a balance between the masculine and the feminine and the basis for making such a balance is contingent on how we interpret the comings and goings of Immigrant-Becoming-American-Schlemiel. As a part of this becoming, Shteyngart decided that Vladmir should have a shocking experience that challenges the schlemiel’s more effeminate and dreamy nature. The question is whether becoming an American – for Shteygart -implies becoming more masculine.
Strangely enough, however, he doesn’t become masculine in America. The process starts in America, but it takes full form in Eastern Europe. I hope to bring out the irony of this process and to show how the transformation out of the schlemiel into something more masculine may seem full but is actually partial.
And, more importantly, this transformation is spurred by the fact that Vladmir, a schlemiel, ends up getting himself into trouble by virtue of the “curious arc” of his dreams. This trouble spurs his transformation and, because his life changes as a result, he shares less with the traditional schlemiel and more with Woody Allen’s most recent schlemiels. But he differs from them too, for his transformation is ultimately partial.
….to be continued…..