Pagliacci, The Magic Clothes Line, and Richard Corey

1) In post war Rome, a man comes across a stranger weeping in an alley. “Don’t cry, Friend” he says. “It’s true, our beloved country has been brutally defeated, that the best young men of their generation have been slaughtered, and that we now have no infrastructure to speak of. And, of course, most of us are hungry and the rest of us are starving. But there is always hope. And I have especially good news for you. Tonight our own Pagliacci gives a free performance.”

The stranger weeps harder.

“No, no. Don’t cry. Admittedly, times are tough and the outlook is bleak. Our leaders themselves agree that an economic recovery will take decades. But be of good cheer. Pagliacci is in town.”

The stranger drops to his knees sobbing louder.

“Stop crying, I beg you. Listen: Tonight at the Colisium, Pagliacci will perform. Pagliacci is our country’s most respected and greatest performer. Everyone loves him. Pagliacci will make you laugh until your sides hurt. Pagliacci will make you forget your troubles. You’ll have a wonderful evening. Everyone will be there.

“Please, no more weeping! Look at the time! The performance is about to start! Get up! Take my hand! Come with me to the Colisium! Everyone loves Pagliacci and you will too!”

The stranger looks up from the ground and says:

“I am Pagliacci.”

***

2) A wise man comes to visit a small village and is surrounded by complaining townspeople. “We are in trouble,” one man laments.

“It’s terrible,” another agrees. “My wife is a shrew. Never a kind word does she speak.”

“My son is a terrible disappointment,” interrupts a third. “We spent the entirety of our small savings on his education and now he does not work.”

A fourth man pushes his way through the crowd to speak to the wise man. “We did everything we could to raise our daughter with proper values. But she is marrying outside the faith.”

“My mother-in-law has come to live with us,” another man exclaims. “We barely have enough food for the children and she does nothing to help with the work around the house.”

The wise man listens late into the evening as the complaints continue unabated. Finally after all the villagers have had their say, he addresses them as follows: “Truly your suffering is difficult–infidelity, ungrateful children, hard work, long hours, sickness, difficult relatives and more–but you will be pleased to know that I have a solution.” A hush falls over the crowd as the wise man continues. “I will take all your troubles away. Tomorrow, all of you will be happier than you are today.”

The villagers listen in stunned silence as the wise man continues. “I have with me a magic clothesline.”

The man with the bad marriage bursts out: “A magic clothesline? That’s ridiculous.”

“Listen before you judge,” says the Wise Man. “The magic clothesline will cure all your problems; it has never failed. All you have to do is write down all your complaints on these pieces of paper.”

The skeptical villagers begin writing, elucidating their grievances. The wise man collects the papers and tells the villagers to go home and have a good dinner with their families. “We will meet back here in the morning. All your problems will be solved by the magic clothesline.”

The next morning at dawn, the anxious villagers appear to see the clothesline tied to two trees at opposite ends of the square. On the clothesline, attached by clothespins are all the papers they had written the evening before.

“You are a charlatan, not a wise man,” says a man. “You have done nothing except draw attention to all our problems. You’ve made us write them down but have done nothing to take away our pain.”

The Wise Man ignores his detractor and speaks: “Go to the magic clothesline, all of you. Read all the papers. Read all the problems.”

He pauses then delivers the solution.

“Then take the paper with the problems that you want.”

***

In the unlikely event that this story does not translate perfectly to the printed page, I will (ponderously, it could be argued) explain the punch line: After reading all the problems of all the other families, everyone takes back his own.

Why are there so many “Be Careful What you Wish For” stories in our culture? Why is Dorothy so happy to be back home?

The parents of my students who are gifted musicians wish that their children would excell at chemistry. The parents of my students who study all the time wish their children would take some time off and play an instrument. The parents of my students who have a 91 in math wish that their children had a 95.

All loving parents want what is best for their children. I wonder if Richard Corey’s parents wished that he was wealthy. Here is Paul Simon’s 1963 interpretation of the Edwin Arlington Robinson poem:

They say that Richard Cory owns one half of this whole town,
With political connections to spread his wealth around.
Born into society, a banker’s only child,
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, and style.

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

The papers print his picture almost everywhere he goes:
Richard Cory at the opera, Richard Cory at a show.
And the rumor of his parties and the orgies on his yacht!
Oh, he surely must be happy with everything he’s got.

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.

He freely gave to charity, he had the common touch,
And they were grateful for his patronage and thanked him very much,
So my mind was filled with wonder when the evening headlines read:
“Richard Cory went home last night and put a bullet through his head.”

But I work in his factory
And I curse the life I’m living
And I curse my poverty
And I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be,
Oh, I wish that I could be
Richard Cory.