
melancolia. Nas últimas palavras de seu drama, Miller se despede da América sabendo que
sua realização pessoal se daria em outro lugar. Em sua via crucis, um ciclo se encerra.
The boat will be pulling out soon. Time to say goodbye. Will I too miss this land that has
made me suffer so? I answered that question before. Nevertheless, I do want to say
goodbye to those who once meant something to me. What am I saying? Who still mean
something! Step forward, won't you, and let me shake you by the hand. Come, comrades,
a last handshake!
Up comes William F. Cody, the first in line. Dear Buffalo Bill, what an ignominious end
we reserved for you! Goodbye, Mr. Cody, and Godspeed! And is this Jesse James?
Goodbye, Jesse James, you were tops! Goodbye, you Tuscaroras, you Navajos and
Apaches! Goodbye, you valiant, peace-loving Hopis! And this distinguished, olive-
skinned gentleman with the goatee, can it be W. E. Burghardt Dubois, the very soul of
black folk? Goodbye, dear, honored Sir, what a noble champion you have been! And you
there, Al Jennings, once of the Ohio Penitentiary, greetings! and may you walk through
the shadows with some greater soul than O. Henry! Goodbye, John Brown, and bless you
for your rare, high courage! Goodbye, dear old Walt! There will never be another singer
like you in all the land. Goodbye Martin Eden, goodbye, Uncas, goodbye, David
Copperfield! Goodbye, John Barleycorn, and say hello to Jack! Goodbye, you six-day
bike riders… I'll be pacing you in Hell! Goodbye, dear Jim Londos, you staunch little
Hercules!
Goodbye, Oscar Hammerstein, Goodbye, Gatti-Cassazza! And you too, Rudolf
Friml! Goodbye now, you members of the Xerxes Society! Fraires Semper!
Goodbye,
Elsie
Janis!
Goodbye,
John
L. and Gentleman Jim! Goodbye, old Kentucky! Goodbye, old
Shamrock! Goodbye, Montezuma, last great sovereign of the old New World! Goodbye,
Sherlock Holmes! Goodbye, Houdini! Goodbye, you wobblies and all saboteurs of
progress! Goodbye, Mr. Sacco, goodbye, Mr. Vanzetti! Forgive us our sins! Goodbye,
Minnehaha, goodbye, Hiawatha! Goodbye, dear Pocahontas! Goodbye, you trail blazers,
goodbye to Wells Fargo and all that! Goodbye, Walden Pond! Goodbye, you Cherokees
and Seminoles! Goodbye, you Mississippi steamboats! Goodbye, Tomashevsky!
Goodbye, P. T. Barnum! Goodbye, Herald Square! Goodbye, Fountain of Youth!
Goodbye, Daniel Boone! Goodbye, Grosspapa! Goodbye, Street of Early Sorrows, and
may I never set eyes on you again! Goodbye, everybody… goodbye now! Keep the
aspidistra flying!
191
Mas, se a América é o cenário da tortura, Paris é o palco da redenção.
I understood why it is that here, at the very hub of the wheel, one can embrace the most
fantastic, the most impossible theories, without finding them in the least strange; it is here
that one reads again the books of his youth and the enigmas take on new meanings, one
for every white hair. One walks the streets knowing that he is mad, possessed, because it
is only too obvious that these cold, indifferent faces are the visages of one's keepers. Here
all boundaries fade away and the world reveals itself for the mad slaughterhouse that it is.
The treadmill stretches away to infinitude, the hatches are closed down tight, logic runs
rampant, with. bloody cleaver flashing. The air is chill and stagnant, the language
ap
ocalyptic. Not an exit sign anywhere; no issue save death. A blind alley at the end of
which is a scaffold.
An eternal city, Paris! More eternal than Rome, more splendorous than Nineveh. The
very navel of the world to which, like a blind and faltering idiot, one crawls hack on
h
an
ds and knees. And like a cork that has drifted to the dead center of the ocean, one
191
MILLER, Henry.Nexus. New Jersey: Grove Press, 1978, p. 315-316.