troubadour romances), skirts but doesrnnot reject the Platonic wisdom of Diotima,rnand presents the Helens and Ettarresrnand various Dames of his creation. Inrnthe end he arrives at the paradox that inrnreaching for the ideal of Woman, to possessrnis to lose. (To today’s martial andrnsordid feminists, Cabell’s delineationsrnwould be repugnant, if not unconstitutional.)rnIn The Rivet in Grandfather’srnNeck—rivet and neck never fully definedrn—the dialectics of love and gallantryrnconfront us, the more movinglyrnbecause they struggle in the exhaustedrnVirginia soil. Is Cabell Elizabethan? Orrn”modern” in a manner that poets andrnnovelists of our cultural diaspora mayrnenvy?rnIn his lifetime, the works of JamesrnBranch Cabell and those he signed simplyrnBranch Cabell were published in arnuniform edition. He writes in one of hisrnbooks of a visit by a young author whornsat before this monument to Cabell’srnliterary industry and lectured him on thernart of writing—a spectacle I witnessed inrnJohn P. Marquand’s living room, the lecturerrnbeing James Jones with one book tornhis credit at the time. As he told thernstory, Cabell’s smile lingered on thernprinted page, for though he knew hisrnworth, he was not a vain man. If thernwheel of taste spins again for him, thernbest of his books will reappear in thickrnvolumes on india paper, accompaniedrnby the rapture of critics who have neverrnquite understood him or his manner ofrnbreathing. But from his corner of somernheavenly Poictesme, he will probably andrnin continued modesty recall the dyingrnthoughts of the writer he created,rnRudolph Musgrove, the central characterrnin The Rivet in Grandfather’s Neck:rnOnce, very long ago, someone hadrnsaid that the most patheticrntragedy in life was to get nothingrnparticular out of it.. . . AndrnRudolph Musgrove knew he hadrnforgotten something of vast import,rnbut what this knowledge hadrnpertained to he no longer knew.rnThat melancholy may have pertainedrnto James Branch Cabell’s later years. Butrnif he has forgotten what of vast import hernonce knew, his books have left us morernthan a clue.rnRalph de Toledano’s latest book is ThernApocrypha of Limbo, a collection ofrnreligious poems.rnTHEATERrnThe Work ofrnRomulus Linneyrnby Kathetine DaltonrnBeth and John want to break the newsrnin as civilized a manner as possible.rnAfter all, they mean to have a pleasantrnweekend away in their cabin. So, overrnbeers, cheerfully, they tell John’s parentsrnthat Beth is leaving him for his bestrnfriend—who is smiling in the armchairrnin the corner, the fifth member of thernhouseparty. Shotgun, Romulus Linney’srnnewest play, is about divorce, and politicalrncorrectness, and finally despair.rnWhat starts out as painfully forced NewrnAge civility descends into tragedy, as Linneyrnmakes the case that if asked to be toornreasonable, a man has no recourse but tornturn barbaric.rnShotgun was one of the better playsrnproduced this spring at the 18th annualrnHumana Festival of New American Playsrnat Actors Theatre of Louisville (whichrndeserves credit as one of the country’srnbest forums for new work, and which hasrnbeen producing Linney’s plays sincern1979). But its ending is foreseeable, andrnthe play’s most sympathetic characterrn(the husband, John) garbles his justificationrnof his all-too-understandablernanger. Still, even as a flawed play. Shotgunrnhighlights many of the qualities thatrnmake its author such an outstandingrnwriter.rnFor one. Shotgun addresses a real issuern—divorce, and how to deal with it—rnin a serious way. Through his characters,rnLinney makes arguments that were oncerncommon sense but now are refreshing, ifrnonly because they are so seldom heardrnon stage or screen. As his triangle ofrnwife, husband, and best friend shows,rnthere is no such thing as a civilized divorce,rnin which a cuckolded husbandrnand his wife and her lover can all shakernhands and promptly spend a happyrnweekend together in the country.rnJohn’s parents, who break their ownrnnews in telling their children that afterrndecades of separation they are gettingrnremarried, say unequivocally that divorcernwas a waste and loss. And through John,rnwho soon rebels against the I’m OKYou’rernOK attitude of his wife and friendrnwith sexist jokes and a renewed interestrnin that other bugbear of the 90’s, a rifle,rnLinney seems to say that man—bothrnthe sex and the species—is not just politicallyrnincorrect, but politically incorrectable.rnWhile Shotgun lapses intornmelodrama, it does not sink into cliche,rnwhich was (unfortunately) more thanrncould be said of some of the other playsrnat the festival.rnPlaygoers would do well to rememberrnLinney’s other work. I have not had therngood fortune to see many of his 3 5-plusrnplays, but I vividly remember 2, Linney’srnplay about Hermann Goring at thernNuremberg Trials, which premiered inrnLouisville in 1990. In 2 (so-called becausernGoring was second-in-command),rnLinney created a character who is bothrnterrible and fascinating. It is hard to understandrnhow the “drug addict” peddledrnby Time-Life books could have run anrneffective political and military organization.rnLinney’s Goring is much more believablernas a leader, and all the morernfrightening because he is not a twistedrncaricature, but a man who is admirablernin many ways. Linney’s Goring is skillfulrnin his manipulation of others and wittyrnin defending himself; evil but not hypocriticalrn(and that is something). Builtrnaround the trial and Goring’s eventualrnsuicide, the play capitalizes on the inherentrndrama of the circumstances.rnWhen acted as powerfully as it was inrnLouisville in 1990, it is a compelling play.rn2 has had a curious history. After itsrnsuccess at ATL (earning good reviewsrnand a National Critics Circle Award), itrn46/CHRONICLESrnrnrn