LP: This is absolutely one of my favorite short stories written by Somerset Maugham in 1935 about a couple that are really just a pair of drifters trying to eat during the depression. They are basically playing the fancy hotels on the Riviera. The woman dives into a tiny tub of water. Because she has been successful again and again they are able to eat.
‘How’s Stella?’ asked Sandy.
‘Oh, she’s all right. Likes to have a lay–down before the show, you know.
Steadies the old nerves, she says.’
‘I wouldn’t do that stunt of hers for a thousand pounds.’
‘I don’t suppose you would. No one can do it but her, not from that height, I
mean, and only five foot of water.’
‘It’s the most sick–making thing I’ve ever seen.’
Cotman gave a little laugh. He took this as a compliment. Stella was his wife.
Of course she did the trick and took the risk, but it was he who had thought of
the flames, and it was the flames that had taken the public fancy and made the
turn the huge success it was. Stella dived into a tank from the top of a ladder
sixty feet high, and as he said, there were only five feet of water in the tank.
151Just before she dived they poured enough petrol on to cover the surface and he
set it alight; the flames soared up and she dived straight into them.
‘Paco Espinel tells me it’s the biggest draw the Casino has ever had,’ said
Sandy.
‘I know. He told me they’d served as many dinners in July as they generally do
in August. And that’s you, he says to me.’
...A little figure appeared at the top of the steps that led on to the terrace, ran
quickly up to the tank, and bowed to the applauding audience. She wore a
man’s silk dressing–gown and on her head a bathing–cap. Her thin face was
made up as if for the stage. The Italian countess looked at her through her
face–à–main.
‘Not pretty,’ she said.
‘Good figure,’ said Eva Barrett. ‘You’ll see.’
Stella slipped out of her dressing–gown and gave it to Cotman. He went
down the steps. She stood for a moment and looked at the crowd. They were in
darkness and she could only see vague white faces and white shirt–fronts. She
was small, beautifully made, with legs long for her body and slim hips. Her
bathing costume was very scanty.
‘You’re quite right about the figure, Eva,’ said the Colonel. ‘Bit undeveloped, of
course, but I know you girls think that’s quite the thing.’
Stella began to climb the ladder and the spot–light followed her. It seemed an
incredible height. An attendant poured petrol on the surface of the water.
Cotman was handed a flaming torch. He watched Stella reach the top of the
ladder and settle herself on the platform.
‘Ready?’ he cried.
‘Yes.’
‘Go,’ he shouted.
And as he shouted he seemed to plunge the burning torch into the water. The
flames sprang up, leaping high, and really terrifying to look at. At the same
moment Stella dived. She came down like a streak of lightning and plunged
through the flames, which subsided a moment after she had reached the water.
A second later she was at the surface and jumped out to a roar, a storm of
applause. Cotman wrapped the dressing–gown round her. She bowed and
bowed. The applause went on. Music struck up. With a final wave of the hand
she ran down the steps and between the tables to the door. The lights went up
and the waiters hurried along with their neglected service.
Sandy Westcott gave a sigh. He did not know whether he was disappointed or
relieved.
‘Top hole,’ said the English peer.
‘It’s a bally fake,’ said the Colonel, with his British pertinacity. ‘I bet you
anything you like.’
‘It’s over so quickly,’ said her English ladyship. ‘I mean, you don’t get your
money’s worth really.’
LP: Toward the end of the story the woman starts to lose her nerve. She really wants to quit but if she quits how will they eat. She continues to defy her own mortality for the short term gain. Unspoken in this is that one day she will jump and something will go wrong either killing her or crippling her.
The Wake | On Our Honeymoon from Webzine Obstacle on Vimeo.
...‘All our troubles are over, old girl,’ he said fondly. ‘We can put a bit by now for
a rainy day, and when the public’s sick of this I’ll just think of something else.’
And now, without warning, at the top of their boom, Stella wanted to chuck
it. He didn’t know what to say to her. It broke his heart to see her so unhappy.
He loved her more now even than when he had married her. He loved her
because of all they’d gone through together; after all, for five days once they’d
had nothing to eat but a hunk of bread each and a glass of milk, and he loved
her because she’d taken him out of all that; he had good clothes to wear again
and his three meals a day. He couldn’t look at her; the anguish in her dear grey
eyes was more than he could bear. Timidly she stretched out her hand and
touched his. He gave a deep sigh.
‘You know what it means, honey. Our connexion in the hotels has gone west,
and the business is finished, anyway. What there is’ll go to people younger than
us. You know what these old women are as well as I do; it’s a boy they want,
and besides, I’m not tall enough really. It didn’t matter so much when I was a
kid. It’s no good saying I don’t look my age because I do.’
‘Perhaps we can get into pictures.’
He shrugged his shoulders. They’d tried that before when they were down
and out.
‘I wouldn’t mind what I did. I’d serve in a shop.’
‘D’you think jobs can be had for the asking?’
161She began to cry again.
‘Don’t, honey. It breaks my heart.’
‘We’ve got a bit put by.’
‘I know we have. Enough to last us six months. And then it’ll mean starvation.
First popping the bits and pieces, and then the clothes’ll have to go, same as
they did before. And then dancing in lowdown joints for our supper and fifty
francs a night. Out of a job for weeks together. And Marathons whenever we
hear of one. And how long will the public stand for them?’
‘I know you think I’m unreasonable, Syd.’
He turned and looked at her now. There were tears in her eyes. He smiled,
and the smile he gave her was charming and tender.
‘No, I don’t, ducky. I want to make you happy. After all, you’re all I’ve got.
I love you.’
He took her in his arms and held her. He could feel the beating of her heart. If
Stella felt like that about it, well, he must just make the best of it. After all,
supposing she were killed? No, no, let her chuck it and be damned to the
money. She made a little movement.
‘What is it, honey?’
She released herself and stood up. She went over to the dressing–table.
‘I expect it’s about time for me to be getting ready,’ she said.
He started to his feet.
‘You’re not going to do a show tonight?’
‘Tonight, and every night till I kill myself. What else is there? I know you’re
right, Syd. I can’t go back to all that other, stinking rooms in fifth–rate hotels
and not enough to eat. Oh, that Marathon. Why did you bring that up? Being
tired and dirty for days at a time and then having to give up because flesh and
blood just couldn’t stand it. Perhaps I can go on another month and then
there’ll be enough to give you a chance of looking round.’
‘No, darling. I can’t stand for that. Chuck it. We’ll manage somehow. We
starved before; we can starve again.’
She slipped out of her clothes, and for a moment stood naked but for her
stockings, looking at herself in the glass. She gave her reflection a hard smile.
‘I mustn’t disappoint my public,’ she sniggered.
The full short story can be found here: http://englishclasses.com.ua/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/wsmaugham-sixty-five-short-stories_0905712692.pdf
You welcome
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