nienth’ limited Greene’s involvementrnwith them.rnHazzard writes that “the anxiety ofrnmen, women, and children living closernto the bone and die abss is a climate ofrnthe earh’ fiction, which freqnently takesrnplace in wet, cold, sunless settings.” Andrnshe shrewdly notes that many ridicnlonsrncharacters in his novels are called “Henr’,”rn”a byword for naivete and impotence”rnas well as Greene’s real first name.rnBut her comments are never as acute asrnOrwell’s devastating criticism of thernhero’s suicide in The Heart of the Matter:rn”If Scobie believed in Hell, he would notrnrisk going there merely to spare the feelingsrnof a couple of neurotic women.”rnGreene’s novels, filled with spiritualrnmalaise and flirtations with God, put himrn”on Golonel Gadaffi’s cultural black listrnwith D.H. Lawrence and curiouslyrnenough Henr’ James.”rnGreene liked to use old-fashionedrnexpressions like “fall guy” and “whatrnswank.” Recalling the transformation ofrnmores after the Lady Chatterlcy trial inrn1959, he wittilv remarked that, “amongrnpublishers, indecency was now becomingrna competition rather than an obstacle.”rnOnce in close touch with thernworld’s pulse, in old age Greene camernimderstandabK’ to loathe “the self-engrossedrnlassitude of hippies and yippies”:rn”I woidd like to take a machine gun tornthe oung,” he exclaimed. Llis declinernseemed to match the decline of the islandrn— part of a sad but ine’itablc spectaclernI witnessed in the Spanish villagernwhere I lived at the time. As early asrn1907, Rilke lamented the blight ofrnhideous new buildings which, after thernGreat War, was compounded b’ Gapri’srncharacteristic “indolence, near-nudity,rnand egoi.stic hedonism,” often ending inrntragedy and suicide. As tourists invadedrndie island, fishermen abandoned the searnand peasants left Hic land for more profitablernif less satisf’ing enterprises. “Solitar}rneliffsidc walks,” Lla/zard notes, “fellrninto dangerous deca’, while green sitesrnconsidered sacrosanct were obliteratedrnb’ new hotels.”rnHazzard admires Greene and luiderstandsrnthat he required agitation as a defensernagainst boredom. But she is alsornsharpK’ critical of his increasingh- rudernhcluuior, which she contrasts to the courtes’rnand kindness of the ae.sthetc HaroldrnActon (who makes a cameo appearance).rnGreene felt compelled “to foment trouble,rnto shake up tameness and dishirb thernpeace . . . |and| often appeared indifferentrnto harm done, hurt inflicted, trustrneroded.” If she tried to avoid his evilrntemper, he asked wh’ she stayed awa}; ifrnshe appeared as usual, he tended to hectorrnand upset her. On one occasion,rnprompted by his disapproval of Hazzard’srnhabit of feeding stray cats, “Grahamrnflared into mindless rage. These were thernworst moments I e’er had vith him, irrationalrnand cruel: paroxysm of the playground.”rnGreene called himself “a Catholic agnostic”rnand told her that he hadn’t beenrnto confession for more than 20 years.rnBut, she felt, he found excitement in sin,rn”in guilt and fear, even in being unmasked.”rnHe made his last visit to Caprirnin 1988, to which he was unable to retmn;rnten months before his death inrn1991, he wrote me that he had beenrnforced to cancel a trip to England,rnadding, “ni)- health is too bad for me tornreceive visitors” in Switzerland. Weary ofrnthe world, his last words before lapsing intorna coma were “I want to go.”rn]effrey Meyers, a Fellow of the RoyalrnSociet}’ of Literature, will publish hisrnliterary memoir. Privileged Moments:rnEncounters With Writers {Universityrnof Wisconsin Press), in SeptemberrnA Marathonrnby Lawrence DuganrnTired rimncrs all over the place.rnAn occasional happy face.rnA high school friend waves hello.rnThe rest might be shoveling snowrnThey seem so tired, so intent.rnAbsorbed in groups to come luibentrnErom the race, the amateur strain.rnThe release from pleasure and pain.rnThey fill the park with dull facesrnAnd colorful shirts, trading placesrnAs they fight off cramps and stretch.rnAnd the sicker ones even retchrnInto die street, while the olderrnStill run, shoulder to shoulder.rnThe names of banks on their backs.rnThe Irish flag or union jacks.rnAn old peace group’s faded dovernOr just a bar they used to lo’e.rnI thread through them to churchrnNewly pulled from anodier lurchrnBy two more jobs — part-time teaching.rnE.verywhcre uppies are reachingrnEor water, something cold to drink.rnThen heads bent down to knees to think.rnJUNE 2000/:ilrnrnrn