"Overruled. Proceed, Mr. Willow."
"You were saying, Mr. Danton?"
"That Jimmy… Mr. Driscoll did not perhaps realize what the real theme of his book was. This very often happens with writers. It seemed to me, though, that this was a book about, well, I deplore cliches, but it was certainly a book about man's inhumanity to man. When I suggested this to Jimmy, he seemed surprised. But it was then that I suggested The Other Enemy, meaning not the enemy enemy, but the enemy that is in all men, do you see?"
"How did the idea for the present title come to you?"
"The Paper Dragon?"
"Yes."
"The term 'paper dragon' is familiar to host writers and editors. It's used to denote a story problem that is really nonexistent."
"Would you explain further?"
"Well, let's assume a man comes home reeking of perfume. His wife immediately suspects that he has been seeing another woman, and this creates the conflict, which in turn provokes a series of plot complications, and at last a resolution. The explanation, of course, is that the man had been buying perfume for his wife, and the salesgirl sprayed a little on him — in short, a paper dragon, a nonexistent problem. If the wife had come right out and asked her husband about it, and if he had explained, there would be no conflict, and of course no story."
"A paper dragon is, then, a nonexistent problem or conflict."
"Yes. But this doesn't prevent a lot of people from becoming energetically involved in the series of events it triggers. It's a specious literary device."
"Why did you suggest this title for Mr. Driscoll's novel?"
"I suggested it on various levels. To begin with, his novel deals with that period of time when the Chinese were coming into Korea in force, and I thought the title would indicate that the book was, after all, about war with the Chinese. Secondly, using it in an allusive sense, I thought it would indicate that the Chinese army was only a paper dragon, whereas the real enemy, the real dragon was man's innate cruelty. And lastly, I thought it would clearly label Colman's fake and private war against our hero, the conflict he constructs out of whole cloth, the way he turns the other men against Cooper, the whole chain of events based on a problem that need not have existed in the first place, a paper dragon."
"And what happened when you suggested this title to Mr. Driscoll?"
"He liked it"
"And it was decided that this title would be used on the published novel?"
"Yes."
"To get back for a moment, after your first talk with Mr. Driscoll — you said it was in July of 1962 — did you then offer him a contract for the publication of his novel?"
"Yes."
"Is this the contract you sent to him?"
"It is."
"I offer the contract in evidence, your Honor."
"For what purpose, Mr. Willow?"
"To show that the book was only partially completed when submitted to Mitchell-Campbell. The contract clearly states that the company is in receipt of only ninety-eight pages and an outline, and if further specifies that the completed novel is to be delivered by January 1, 1963, and will consist of some eighty-thousand words."
"Mr. Brackman?"
"No objection."
"Received."
"Defendants' Exhibit F received in evidence," the clerk said.
"Mr. Danton, did you in November of 1962 send Mr. Driscoll a company questionnaire?"
"I did."
"Did he return the questionnaire to you, and is this the questionnaire?"
"Yes, this is what he filled out in November of '62."
"Is it signed by him?"
"No, we don't require a signature on these questionnaires. They're used only to get information which we'll need later for promotion and publicity. Most books, as you know, carry biographical information about the author, either on the jacket flap or on the last page of the book, or both. These questionnaires are helpful to the person preparing the copy. And, too, we need information for newspaper publicity, anecdotes about the writer, his educational background, honors he may have received, and so forth."
"Are these questionnaires sent to every author on Mitchell-Campbell's list?"
"They are."
"As a part of the normal business procedure?"
"As a part of the normal business procedure."
"I offer it in evidence, your Honor."
"No objection."
"Mark it 'Defendants' Exhibit G in evidence.' "
"Mr. Danton, I ask you to recall now any further editorial suggestions you may have made concerning Mr. Driscoll's novel. Did you, for example, make any suggestion about the use of profanity?"
"Yes, I did. There was a scene in which Lieutenant Cooper met his fellow officers, and it seemed to me the profanity in that scene was excessive."
"I show you a second editorial memorandum with the initials 'CD' and I ask you now to describe it to the Court."
"Well, this is my comment… the report I wrote after the completed novel was delivered to me. It's dated February 4, 1963, and it mentions the fact that my earlier editorial suggestions had been successfully incorporated into the novel."
"Does it make any comments about further changes?"
"Yes, it does."
"Would you tell us what those comments are?"
"I'll simply read the last two paragraphs of the report, which are the only parts pertaining to your question. 'If anything, Driscoll has delivered a better novel than the portion and outline promised. His enlargement upon the slain major, for example, with the subsequent homosexual development of Private Colman is inventive and fresh, and completely satisfies our request for stronger motivation. I am, to be truthful, overwhelmed by the depth and scope of this novel, and it's only because the book is so good, in fact, that I bring up what might seem a carping point. I refer to the profanity. This is a realistic war novel, of course, and the combat setting and soldier-characters make the inevitable Anglo-Saxonisms essential to the tone and the very structure. But it seems to me they can be softened somewhat in the scenes where they are used arbitrarily — as in the officers' mess scene — if only to mollify some of the more militant scenes. Elsewhere, I'm afraid we can't do very much about the language because excising the four-letter words would damage the authentic sound of the entire work. One excellent scene, for example, where the men are ostensibly involved in the field-stripping of a rifle, would lose all of its sexual connotations if the language were even slightly changed.' And here, penciled in the margin alongside that paragraph, is a note dated February fifteenth, and stating that these points had been taken care of. Do you want me to go on with the next paragraph of the report?"
"Please."
"Again, I'm quoting: 'In my opinion, the last chapter is anticlimactic especially when placed in juxtaposition to the enormously effective penultimate chapter. The book needs a coda more than it does anything else, perhaps a short scene between Colman and the nurse. I have no doubt that Driscoll can come up with something to fill the bill. He has up to now delivered beyond our highest expectations. We have a fine novel here, and it's by a writer who is only thirty-three years old and who will, I am certain, go on writing many more excellent books. I feel we've made a true discovery.' That's the end of the report."
"Was the final chapter changed after you wrote your report?"
"Yes."
"And were there also subsequent changes?"
"I would guess so. Every book we publish goes through a subtle process of evolution during the copy editing and styling. Small changes are inevitable."
"I offer this report in evidence, your Honor."