Life. Written in the imperative mood ofna street-comer harangue, this prefacenenjoins jvoM to: “Encourage virtue innwhatever heart it may have been drivenninto secrecy and sorrovi’ by the shamenand terror of the world.” In such a worldnyou should have “no shame in beingnkindly and gentle, but if the time comesnin the time of your life to kill, kill andnhave no regret.” The climax of Saroyan’snplay occurs when a kindly and gentlenfraud who “looks as if he might have beennKit Carson at one time” kills the jackbootedncop who has been terrorizingnSaroyan’s pantheon of saindy drunks andntwo-dollar whores. The new compassionnis never having to say you’re sorry.nAt his best, and in The Time of YournLife he is surely at his best, Saroyan exertsna subversive appeal which cannotnbe simply dismissed in a fit of moral pique,nlike that later sentimentalist J. D. Salingern—whom Norman Mailer once characterizednas “the greatest mind ever to stay innprep school”—Saroyan remained an ingenuousnadolescent in the first glow ofnpuberty long after senility had set in. Asnsuch, he is a writer who—like Salingernand Thomas Wolfe—can seem a seer andnsavant to sensitive kids just beginning tonexperience the mysteries of literature.nThere is a time in our lives when ournmoral maturity and social grace arenincommensurate with our capacitynfor wonder. It is at just such a timenthat we are most vulnerable to the newncompassion.nSaroyan was nothing if not prolific. Inna 1934 letter to STORYMagazine editornMartha Foley, Saroyan confessed: “I verynmuch dislike letting a day go by withoutnwriting a short story.” As if to back up hisnclaim, he sent Foley a new story everynday for a montli after she had bought hisninitial submission, “The Daring YoungnMan on the Flying Trapeze.” With such anprodigious output, he took to writingnunder several pseudonyms (when Foleynasked him about a certain Armenian fromnBoston, which turned out to be one ofnhis own identities, Saroyan replied thatnthe man was a cousin who had been takingnmanuscripts out of his wastebasket).nKttsfihcrni’sfor the Common MannRaymcMid Cuncr. C’.iUhctlml: .Alfredn.A. Kiiopf: .New York.nU:i'[iuiiul (.arxIT usesslKirl M-iilnufs.n.iil liki-1 k-iiiiiij;v:i>.Sirl()l’liki-i)iiiK-f;iil.nIful CiirviT isii’i iryini{ lo he :iiiiiiNiii,i>.nIVrh.ip.s protouiKl. \ liaril lo tell. l;ivlicnhe snivel’s Irom wrilers cramp. Or ihenni;irj”iiis on his upew riler are set loonclose. It’s hard (o tell, liiii it works tornhim. Il nixes him his siyle. lis eompacl.nol like a iorei.i{n c.ir. More like :in oldnKamhier. ‘I1ie> don’i hiiiki Kamlilers anvnmore, lis jiisl as well, l-ew hou}>hl Ihem.nI’lenlx hu (,arer. Ilissile. not hish(x)ks.nMe isMl a hesl-.selkr. Nol el. o\adasnerilies are his market. Il vill j^el hijy^t-rnlater. What will readers lirid^.’^liorl storiesnwritten with short .sememes. Like: “irsnI’olil out. hill not loo eolil. Ii’s a liiilenoxere:isi.” I le lets tlu- reader add “lint notnloo overea.st.” Its lominon si-nsi-. .laiinihinus in his stories are like lh.it. (.OITI-nmonsensieai. (!har:ielei’s say thing’s liken”. wink is till- s:ime as a nod lo a hiindnAlthough he produced an average of anbook a year from 1934 through 1979,nmuch of Saroyan’s work was never collectednin his lifetime, and some has escapednthe scrutiny of even the mostnsedulous bibliographers.n1 o separate such a personal and selfindulgentnwriter as Saroyan from his worknis no more possible than to separate thendancer from the dance. For that reason,nAram Saroyan’s recendy published biographynof his father holds interest for bothncritics and voyeurs. The usefulness ofnthis book is limited, however, by both itsnbrevity and its bias. “Aram” (who, in thentrue egalitarian spirit, refers to everyonen—^including his parents—^by his or hernfirst name) was not close enough to “Bill”nto give us a potboiler in the lurid traditionnof Christina Crawford and GarynCrosby, so he takes the “high road” andnwrites the sort of psychobiography thatnappeals to persons whose idea of an intellectualnis Dr. Joyce Brothers. Nevertheless,nhe does manage to convey somennnman.” Is ( arver allndin^ to the origin:!!:n”Sa the word: a noil is as j;o