sister carrie

Chapter 65

Chapter 37 Spiritual Awakening: Rediscovering the Door of Life

Later, after some time, there was only the last 50 yuan left, which is needless to say.The original 700 yuan, after he fiddled with it like this, could only be used by them until June. When the last 100 yuan was approaching, he began to feel that disaster was imminent.

"I don't understand," he said one day, citing such small expenses as meat, "how much we seem to have to spend to live."

"As far as I can see," said Carrie, "we haven't spent much."

"I'm almost out of money," he said. "I don't know where it's going."

"The whole seven hundred dollars?" asked Carrie.

"There's only 100 yuan left."

He looked so sullen that it frightened her.She began to realize that she herself was always in flux.It's a feeling she's always had.

"Well, George," she said aloud, "why don't you find something to do. You can find it."

"I've looked," he said. "You can't force a place for you."

She stared at him weakly, and said, "So, what do you think you will do? 100 yuan won't last long."

"I don't know," he said, "and I have nothing to do but look for it."

Carrie panicked when she heard his serious words.She was so brooding and anxious.She had often thought of the stage as a gateway through which she could lead to the golden world she so longed for.Now, as in Chicago, it's a last-ditch move.If he couldn't get a job soon, something had to be done.Maybe she had to go out and fight alone again.

She wondered how she could find a place.Her experience in Chicago proved her approach was wrong.There are bound to be people who will listen to your requests and test you - those who will give you a chance.

They talked about it over breakfast.It was a day or two later that she brought up the subject of the theatre.At that time, she also said that she saw in the newspaper that Sarah Bernhardt was going to perform in the United States.Hurstwood also saw the news.

"How do people get on stage, George?" she asked innocently afterwards.

"I don't know," he said, "there must be theater agents."

Carrie was drinking her coffee without looking up.

"Is it for someone to find a job?"

"Yes, I think so," he replied.

Suddenly, the way she asked the question caught his attention.

"You're still thinking about being an actor or something, are you?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied, "I'm just guessing."

Although he didn't figure it out, he didn't take this idea seriously.After three years of observation, he no longer believed that Carrie would achieve much in this line of work.She seemed too simple-minded, too submissive.According to his conception of art, there was something luxurious about it, and if she tried to get on the stage, she would fall into the hands of mean managers, as would the rest of them.He has his own ideas about what (they) refer to.Carrie was beautiful, and she could get by, but what about him?
"If I were you, I'd get that out of my head. It's a lot harder than you think."

Carrie felt that there was something in this remark that slandered her talents.

"You said I did not do badly in Chicago," she reminded him.

"You're not bad," he replied, sensing that he was stirring up objections, "but Chicago isn't New York, by a long way."

Carrie did not answer at all to this sentence.The words hurt her feelings.

"The stage," he went on, "isn't bad, of course, if you make a name for yourself, but no one else. It's a long time to get there."

"Oh, I don't know," said Carrie, not without a little excitement.

For an instant he thought he had foreseen the end of the matter.Now when the worst was at hand, she would shove onto the stage without dignity and leave him behind.Strange to say, he didn't really understand her inner quality.This is due to the ignorance of emotional greatness.He never understood that a man might be great emotionally, if not intellectually.The events at Alfred Hall were too remote for him to recall, to recall vividly.He has lived with this woman too long.

"Well, I see," he replied, "I wouldn't think of it that way if I were you. It's not a very womanly occupation."

"It's better than starving," said Carrie. "If you don't want me to do it, why are you looking for work yourself?"

It is not easy to answer this question.He was used to such opinions.

"Oh, never mind," he replied.

As a result, she secretly made up her mind to give it a try.This matter has nothing to do with him.She would not want to be poor or worse just to please him.What else can she do.She could find a job and work her way up.What would he say then? She painted a picture of herself, how she acted in the wonderful Broadway show, how she put on makeup every evening in the dressing room.How to walk out of the theater at eleven o'clock, the carriages lined up in front of the theater, waiting for the guests to get on the carriage.Whether she is a star or not is irrelevant.How happy it would be if only she could get in there, earn a decent salary, wear what she liked, go where she liked.It was such a picture that played out in her mind all day long.The bleakness of Hurstwood's situation only makes this beautiful picture come alive.

Strange to say, such an idea soon infected Hurstwood.The fact that his money was about to be spent showed that he needed help.Why couldn't Carrie help him till he found something to do.

One day, he was walking home with a plan in mind.

"I met John Bay Trek today," he said. "He's going to open a hotel here in the fall. He said he could give me a place then."

"Who is he?" asked Carrie.

"He's in charge of the Grand Pacific Hotel in Chicago."

"Oh," said Carrie.

"I will earn about [-] yuan a year."

"That's all very well, isn't it?" she said sympathetically.

"As long as I can get through the summer," he went on, "I think I'll be fine. I'm still waiting to hear back from a couple of my friends."

Carrie wholeheartedly believed this plausible statement.She sincerely hoped that he would spend the summer safely, he seemed so depressed.

"How much money do you have left?"

"There are only fifty oceans."

"Oh my God," she exclaimed, "what are we going to do? Only 20 days and the rent is due again."

Hurstwood put his head in his hands and stared blankly at the floor.

"Maybe you can get a job in acting," he said softly.

"Perhaps I can," said Carrie.She was glad that someone could agree with this approach.

"I'm going to grab every opportunity I get," he said.He looked refreshed when he saw her, "What can I find?"

One day, after he had gone out, she tidied up her things, dressed as neatly as possible, and walked toward Broadway.She was not very familiar with that avenue.In her eyes, it was the culmination of all great and wonderful things.The theaters are all there—the broker must be near there.

She decided to get off at the Madison Square Theater and find out how to find the theater management.It seems like a reasonable approach.So, when she got to the theater, she asked the box office clerk.

"Eh?" he said, looking out. "A theater agent? I don't know. You can find it in Kleep, though. They're all advertised there."

"Is that a newspaper?" said Carrie.

"Yes," said the clerk, surprised to see ignorance of such commonplace facts. "You can find it at the newsstands," he added politely.He thought the interrogator was really pretty.

Carrie went to Kleep.Standing by the newsstand, she flipped through the pages to find the agent.It's not something you can find right away. No. 13th Street was several blocks away, but she came back, precious newspaper in hand, wasting her time.

Hurstwood was there already, sitting in his usual place.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"I'm looking for a theater agent."

He had always felt timid about her prospects for success.The newspaper she was looking for caught his attention.

"What did you find?" he asked.

"Kleep. The man said their address could be found here."

"You came all the way to Broadway looking for this? I could have told you."

"Then why don't you?" she asked, without looking up.

"You never asked me," he replied.

She searched aimlessly among the dense columns.Her heart was bewildered by the man's indifference.The difficulty of her current situation was made worse because of him.She couldn't help but sighed in self-pity in her heart.Tears rolled in the eyes, but did not flow down.Hurstwood was more or less aware of it.

"Let me see."

While he was looking, she went into the front room to refresh herself.Then walked back quickly.He took a pen and was writing on the envelope.

"There are three here," he said.

Carrie took it over and saw one named Mrs Belmott, another named Marcus Jinks, and a third named Berry Will.She just hesitated for a while, then walked towards the door.

"I'll be right there," she said, without looking back.

Hurstwood was not without shame when he saw her go out.This is the masculinity is gradually disappearing ah.He sat for a while, then couldn't sit still anymore.He stood up and put on his hat.

"I think I've got to get out," he said to himself, and he went out, wandering aimlessly, but feeling that he ought to be out.

Carrie sought first Mrs. Belmore, who had the nearest address.This was converted from an earlier residence to an office.Mrs. Belmott's office, one is an earlier back hall and a pavilion room, with the sign "stop the idler".

When Carrie went in, she found a few people loitering--men, and they said nothing and did nothing now.

While she waited to be notified, the door of the pavilion opened, and out rushed two masculine women in tight dresses with white collars and sleeves.Behind them is a plump lady of about forty-five, with fair hair and an apparently good-natured temperament.At least she was smiling.

"Well, don't you forget," said one of the manly women.

"I won't forget," said the fat woman. "Just wait and see," she went on, "and see where you were in the first week of February?"

"Pittsburgh," said the woman.

"I'll write."

"Okay," said another.The two walked out.

The fat lady's face was immediately very shrewd.She turned and studied Carrie carefully.

"Well," she said, "what can I do for you, young girl?"

"Are you Mrs Belmott?"

"Yes."

"Well," said Carrie, not knowing how to begin, "did you introduce stage actors?"

"Yes."

"Can you introduce me?"

"Have you had any experience?"

"Very little," said Carrie.

"Which one are you performing with?"

"Oh, no one," said Carrie, "just a cameo in—"

"Oh, I see," the woman interrupted, "no, I don't know what opportunities are there."

Carrie had a look of disappointment on her face.

"You'll need some experience in New York," concluded the kindly Mrs. Belmott, "but we'll take your name down."

Carrie stood watching while the lady went back to her office.

"What's your address?" asked a young woman sitting behind a counter when the conversation stopped.

"Mrs. George Wheeler," said Carrie, coming up to where she was writing.The woman wrote down her address and sent her away.

She had a similar situation with Mr. Jinkks, except that at the end she said, "If you can play in a theater in this city and your name is on the program, I might be able to help."

At the third house, the man asked:

"What kind of work do you want?"

"What do you mean?" said Carrie.

"Well, would you like to take part in a comedy show, or a fun show, or a sideshow?"
"Oh, I'd like to play a part in a scene," said Carrie.

"Well," said the man, "you'll have to pay for that."

"How much?" said Carrie.She thought it was kind of funny, it hadn't occurred to her before.

"Well, that's up to you," he said smartly.

Carrie looked at him curiously.She really didn't know how to continue the questioning.

"Would you let me play a role if I paid for it?"

"If we don't make it, the money will be returned to you."

"Oh," she said.

The broker saw that he was dealing with an inexperienced man, and went on:

"You have to pay at least 50 yuan in advance. If it's less, no agent is willing to get into this trouble."

Carrie suddenly realized.

"Thank you," she said, "for letting me think about it."

She got up to go, thinking about it.

"How long will it take for me to find a spot?" she asked.

"Well. That's hard to say," said the man. "Maybe you'll get a position a week, maybe a month. You'll get the first job we think you're good at."

"I see," said Carrie, and with a slight smile of kindness, she came out.

The broker thought for a moment, then thought to himself:

"It's funny how eager these women are to get on stage."

Carrie would have to think hard about the fifty dollars.She thought, "Maybe they got my money and didn't give me anything back." She also had some jewels--a diamond ring, a brooch, and a few other trinkets.If she went to a pawn shop, she could pawn 50 yuan.

Hurstwood came home before her.He hadn't imagined that it would take her so long to find a job.

"Huh?" he said.He didn't dare to ask her if she had any news.

"I didn't get any work today," she said, taking off her gloves. "They need money to find you a job."

"How much?" asked Hurstwood.

"50 yuan."

"They don't want anything, do they?"

"Oh, they're just like normal people. You can't tell if they'll find you a job when they get the money."

"Well, then I wouldn't pay fifty bucks," said Hurstwood, as if he were making a decision with the bill in his hand.

"I don't know," said Carrie. "I think I might try with some managers."

Hurstwood heard this, but was indifferent to the horror of the matter.He rocked for a while in the rocker, gnawing on his fingers.He seems to have gotten used to such an embarrassing situation.He'll be fine after all.

(End of this chapter)