The World According to Garp

"Not a bad idea," Helen said.

"Some stay, some die. Maybe they all die," Garp said.

"What's it mean?" John Wolf asked.

"I'll know when I get there," Garp said. Helen laughed.

"And there's a third novel, after that?" John Wolf asked.

"It's called The Plot against the Giant," Garp said.

"That's a poem by Wallace Stevens," Helen said.

"Yes, of course," Garp said, and he recited the poem for them.

THE PLOT AGAINST THE GIANT

FIRST GIRL

When this yokel comes maundering,

Whetting his hacker,

I shall run before him,

Diffusing the civilest odors

Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers.

It will check him.

SECOND GIRL

I shall run before him,

Arching cloths besprinkled with colors

As small as fish-eggs.

The threads

Will abash him.

THIRD GIRL

Oh, la...le pauvre!

I shall run before him,

With a curious puffing.

He will bend his ear then.

I shall whisper

Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals.

It will undo him.