Page 166

By Jack Joseph Smith

surrounded by shrubs and trees behind the front row line of houses. He opened his gate, walked through a patio, took a key down from above the door, open- ed the lock, and went inside looking behind him as he moved. Let's see, he thought to him self. Feed the ducks, put my papers in order; and then check the dope. "When it's all here, brother, what great peace of mind," he said to himself aloud. A few minute's latter it was, and he laid down on his bed to relax after lighting a reefer; He reminded one of the deceased movie actor James Dean, in that if he lived his face and body would remain young and restless past middle ages. His voice and manner on the other hand were New York like James Cagney; So Jiven Joe was one who looked like a boy; but acted and talked like a man. Today had been one of these days, when an honest acting agent had told him that he was a lead, but sorry they couldn't literally handle him, because his personality was already formed; and attempting to meld him would become, they were sure, an arg- ument. He had gone into their board meeting about him wearing Levi's and a blue silk shirt made in the early forties. His boots were black Spanish, and his hair was cut to comb back.

Original Scan

Page 166

AI Interpretation

GPT

Jiven Joe enters as another figure built out of image, hustle, and self-possession, carrying both old-movie glamour and drug-world anxiety into his private space.

The introduction is carefully styled. Ducks, papers, dope, Levi's, Spanish boots, and old Hollywood echoes all combine into a man whose personality is already a finished object, which is exactly what makes him hard for the industry to use.

Claude

Jiven Joe enters as another figure built out of image, hustle, and self-possession, carrying old theater and street both. The page is his arrival scene.