Free The Book of Knowledge by Doris Grumbach Page A

much-disliked but still intellectual thing to be. She bragged in history class about her wholehearted support of the doctrines of Marx and Lenin, her Communist leanings and anarchist tendencies. But she ignored the front page of the Times , where, in the spring of that year, and unknown to her, it was reported that the Soviet government had executed all the old Bolshevik followers of her political hero, Leon Trotsky.
    Under duress, Roslyn packed her camp trunk while her mother supervised. Rose inspected every piece of clothing for name tapes while Roslyn rehearsed her resentment against her parents for making her leave the City, the new movies, the entertainment sections of the daily newspaper, for the boring, boring mountains.
    While, in places far from the serenity of camp, the forces of imperial Japan were preparing, with great show of aerial splendor, to bomb the ancient cities of China, and thirteen hundred banks began their descent into closure in the United States, and Rastafarians in the British West Indies celebrated the elevation of the new Emperor Haile Selassie, thus fulfilling Marcus Garvey’s prediction that in Africa ‘a new king shall be crowned and then the day of deliverance shall be near,’ and in India Mahatma Gandhi started to defy the British forces by leading a march to the coast, Roslyn, the self-styled radical, was arguing angrily with Rose and Max that she was being cruelly and unjustly deprived of her chance to go to the opening of Anna Christie with Greta Garbo, a thrill she did not wish to miss because of the promise that Garbo would talk on screen for the first time.
    Her only consolation was the camp director’s promise that she could practice her tennis whenever she wished, if the courts were not being used for scheduled matches. She had taken lessons when they lived near a club in Manhattan. It was the only sport she liked, even if it did involve an opponent.
    â€˜Well, if I have to go, I am going to improve my backhand. Then can I have a new racket for my birthday?’
    Max sighed and said: ‘Not this year.’
    â€˜Well, I’m not going to let them make me learn to dive. Let Jean do that. She likes water.’ In her last visit to Aunt Sophie’s apartment she had seen Jean’s bathing suit hanging to air on the post at the foot of her bed. Nastily, she asked her cousin if she kept it at the ready so she could take a quick plunge into the refreshing waters of West End Avenue. Jean blushed and said:
    â€˜No, it’s there so I won’t forget to pack it.’
    Camp Clear Lake, familiarly called CCL, was for city girls. It was highly competitive and very athletic. As a result, by the end of the summer two years ago, when Roslyn had been a junior camper, she had grown to hate all group games. If she was not chosen to be captain—and her bossiness precluded that—she did not want to play at all. She believed that team sports detracted from her intellectual energies, and her forehand.
    For purposes of orderly competition the counselors had divided the camp into two teams, the Blues and the Grays. To her dismay, Roslyn had found herself on the winning side, although she herself had done very little to contribute to the victory. The campers carried on their noisy celebrations, which, to Roslyn, were vulgar, silly, and childish. Hugs, kisses, handshakes, and high-pitched shouts accompanied the announcement of the Blues’ triumph. Roslyn’s mood was hardly noticed in the happy confusion.
    Roslyn remembered that she had gone back to her bunk to scowl over her unread copy of David Copperfield . She lay on her bed, her long, black hair covering as much of her face as she could manage. She was furious at what the rest of the camp was doing, the mindless, loud celebration of, to her, a meaningless victory. She vowed never again to be caught up, even anonymously, with a winning team. She hated the camp, she hated all the campers, she told herself.