Little Golden America

Little Golden America

by ILF Ilya & PETROV Eugene

Translated from the Russian by Charles Malamuth

C O N T E N T S

PART 1

FROM А TWENTY-SEVENTH-STORY WINDOW

1 Тhe Normandie

2 The First Evening in New York

3 What Can Be Seen From A Hotel Window

4 Appetite Departs While Eating

5 We Seek An Angel Without Wings

6 Papa And Mamma

7 The Electric Chair

8 A New York Arena

9 We Purchase an Automobile and Depart

PART II

THROUGH THE EASTERN STATES

10 On the Automobile Highway

11 The Small Town

12 A Big Little Town

13 Mr. Ripley’s Electric House

14 America Ca

15 Dearborn

16 Henry Ford

17 That Horrible Town, Chicago

18 The Best Musicians in the World

PART III

TOWARD THE PACIFIC OCEAN

19 In Mark Twain’s Country

20 A Marine

21 Rogers and His Wife

22 Santa Fe

23 Meeting Тhe Indians

24 А Day of Mishaps

25 Тhe Desert

26 Grand Canyon

27 Тhe Man in the Red Shirt

28 А Уoung Baptist

29 On the Crest of the Dam

PART IV ТНЕ GOLDEN STАТЕ

30 Mrs. Adams Sets a Record

31 San Francisco

32 American Football

33 Russian Hill

34 Сaptain Х

35 Four Standard Types

З6 The God of Potboilers

37 Hollywood Serfs

З8 Pray, Weigh Yourself, and Pay

39 God’s Country

PART V BАСК ТО ТНЕ ATLANТIC

40 On the Old Spanish Trail

41 А Day in Mexico

42 New Year’s Eve in San Antonio

43 We Enter the Southern States

44 Negroes

45 Aмerican Democracy

46 Тhay and We

47 Farewell, America!

PART 1

FROM А TWENTY-SEVENTH-STORY WINDOW

1 Тhe Normandie

АT NINE o'clock а special train leaves Paris for Le Havre with passengers for the Normandie. This train makes no stops. Three hours after its departure it rolls into the large structure which is in the Havre maritime station. Here the passengers descend to a shut-in platform, are lifted by escalators to the upper floor of the station, walk through halls and along passageways, all completely enclosed, and finally find themselves in a large vestibule where they take their places in elevators and depart for their various decks. At last they are on the Normandie. They have not the slightest idea what it looks like, for throughout this journey they had not even caught a glimpse of its outer contours.

  We, too, walked into an elevator. A lad in a red tunic with gold buttons gracefully lifted his arm and pressed a knob. The shining new elevator rose a little, stopped and suddenly moved down, paying no heed whatever to the uniformed operator who desperately continued to press the knob. After falling three floors instead of rising two, we heard the painfully familiar phrase - on this occasion pronounced in impeccable French: "The elevator is out of order!”

  We took the stairway to our cabin, a stairway covered throughout with a non-inflammаblе rubber carpet of bright green. Тhе соrridогs and vestibules of the ship were covered with the same carpeting, which makes each footfall soft and soundless. But one does not fully appreciate the merits of rubber carpeting until the ship begins to roll in earnest. Then the carpeting seems to grip the soles. True, that does not save one from being seasick, but it does keep one from falling.

  The stairway was not at аll of the steamship type. It was broad, slanting, with runs and landings of dimensions generous enough for a mansion.

  The cabin was likewise quite unsteamerlike. A spacious room with two ample windows, two broad wooden beds, easy-chairs, wall closets, tables, mirrors-in fact, all the blessings of a communal dwelling, even unto a telephone.

Only in a storm does the Normandie resemble a ship. But in good weather it is a large hotel, with a sweeping view of the ocean, which, having suddenly torn loose from its moorings in a modern seaside health resort, is floating away at the rate of thirty-odd knots an hour.

Down below, from the platforms of the various floors of the station people who were seeing the passengers off shouted their final good wishes and farewells. They shouted in French, in English, in Spanish. They also shouted in Russian. A strange chap in a black seafaring uniform with a silver anchor and a shield of David on one sleeve, a beret on his head and a sad little beard on his chin, was shouting something in Jewish. Later we learned that he was the ship's rabbi; the General Transatlantic Company had engaged him to minister to the spiritual needs of a certain portion of its passengers. Other passengers had at their disposal Catholic and Protestant priests. Moslems, fire worshippers, and Soviet engineers travelled without benefit of clergy; on that score the General Transatlantic Company left them entirely to their own devices.

The Normandie has a spacious church with dim electric lights; it is designed primarily for Catholic services, but may be adjusted to suit other denominational needs. Thus, the altar and the icons may be covered with special shields designed for that purpose and the Catholic church converted automatically into a Protestant house of worship. As for the rabbi of the sad little beard, there being no available room for him, the children's nursery was assigned for the performance of his rites. Whereupon the company provided him with a tallith and even with special drapery for covering temporarily the mundane representations of bu

The ship left the harbour. On the pier, at the mole, everywhere were crowds of people. The Normandie was still a novelty to the citizens of Le Havre. They forgathered from all corners of the city to greet the transatlantic titan and bid it bon voyage.

But the French shore was finally lost in the smoky mists of the murky day. Toward evening we saw the lights of Southampton. For an hour and a half the Normandie stood in its roadstead there, taking on passengers from England, surrounded on three sides by the distant and mysterious lights of a strange city. Then again she put out to sea, and again began the seething tumult of unseen waves aroused by tempestuous winds.

In the stern, where we were located, everything trembled. The deck and the walls and the lights and the easy-chairs and the glasses on the washstand and the washstand itself trembled. The ship's vibration was so pronounced that even objects from which one did not expect any sound made a noise. For the first time we heard the sound of towels, soap, the carpet on the floor, the paper on the table, the electric bulb, the curtain, the collar thrown on the bed. Everything in the cabin resounded, and some things even thundered. If a passenger became thoughtful for a moment and relaxed his facial muscles, his teeth at once began to chatter of their own free will. All through the night it seemed to us that someone was trying to break down the door of our cabin and someone else was constantly rapping at our window-pane and laughing ominously. We discovered no less than a hundred different sounds inside our cabin.

The Normandie was on its tenth voyage between Europe and America. It was scheduled to go into dry dock after its eleventh trip, when its stern would be taken apart and the structural deficiencies that caused vibration eliminated.

In the morning a sailor came into our cabin and closed its windows with metal shutters. A storm was rising. A small freighter was having a difficult time making its way to the French shore. At times it disappeared in the waves, only the tips of its masts remaining visible.