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5. Love is a Fallacy
Max Shulman
1 Charles Lamb, as merry and enterprising
a fellow as you will meet in a month of
Sundays, unfettered the informal essay with
his memorable Old China and Dream's
Children. There follows an informal essay that
ventures even beyond Lamb's frontier, indeed,
"informal" may not be quite the right word to
describe this essay; "limp" or " flaccid" or
possibly "spongy" are perhaps more
appropriate.
2 Vague though its category, it is without doubt an essay. It develops an argument; it
cites instances; it reaches a conclusion. Could Carlyle do more? Could Ruskin ?
3 Read, then, the following essay which undertakes to demonstrate that logic, far from
being a dry, pedantic discipline, is a living, breathing thing, full of beauty, passion, and
trauma --Author's Note
4 Cool was I and logical. Keen, calculating, perspicacious , acuteand astute--I was all
of these. My brain was as powerful as a dynamo, as precise as a chemist's scales, as
penetrating as a scalpel. And--think of it! --I was only eighteen.
5 It is not often that one so young has such a giant intellect. Take, for example, Petey
Butch, my roommate at the University of Minnesota. Same age, same background, but
dumb as an ox. A nice enough young fellow, you understand, but nothing upstairs.
Emotional type. Unstable. Impressionable. Worst of all, a faddist. Fads, I submit, are the
very negation of reason. To be swept up in every new craze that comes along, to surrender
yourself to idiocy just because everybody else is doing it--this, to me, is the acme of
mindlessness. Not, however, to Petey.
6 One afternoon I found Petey lying on his bed with an expression of such distress on
his face that I immediately diagnosed appendicitis. "Don't move," I said. "Don't take a
laxative. I'll get a doctor."
7 "Raccoon," he mumbled thickly.
8 "Raccoon?" I said, pausing in my flight.
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9 "1 want a raccoon coat," he wailed.
10 I perceived that his trouble was not physical, but mental. "Why do you want a
raccoon coat?"
11 "1 should have known it," he cried, pounding his temples. "1 should have known
they'd come back when the Charleston came back. Like a fool I spent all my money for
textbooks, and now I can't get a raccoon coat."
12 "Can you mean." I said incredulously, "that people are actually wearing raccoon
coats again?"
13 "All the Big Men on Campus are wearing them. Where've you been?"
14 "In the library," I said, naming a place not frequented by Big Men on Campus
15 He leaped from the bed and paced the room, "I've got to have a raccoon coat," he
said passionately. "I've got to!"
16 "Petey, why? Look at it rationally. Raccoon coats are unsanitary. They shed. They
smell bad. They weight too much. They're unsightly. They--"
17 " You don't understand," he interrupted impatiently. "It's the thing to do. Don't you
want to be in the swim?"
18 "No," I said truthfully.
19 "Well, I do," he declared. "I'd give anything for a raccoon coat. Anything!"
20 My brain, that precision instrument, slipped into high gear. "Anything?" I asked,
looking at him narrowly.
21 "Anything," he affirmed in ringing tones.
22 I stroked my chin thoughtfully. It so happened that I knew where to set my hands
a raccoon coat. My father had had one in his undergraduate days; it lay now in a trunk in
the attic back home. It also happened that Petey had something I wanted. He didn't have it
exactly, but at least he had first rights on it. I refer to his girl, Polly Espy.
23 I had long coveted Polly Espy. Let me emphasize that my desire for this young
woman was not emotional in nature. She was, to be sure, a girl who excited the emotions
but I was not one to let my heart rule my head. I wanted Polly for a shrewdly calculated,
entirely cerebral reason.
24 I was a freshman in law school. In a few years I would be out in practice. I was well
aware of the importance of the right kind of wife in furthering a lawyer's career. The
successful lawyers I had observed were, almost without exception, married to beautiful,
gracious, intelligent women. With one omission, Polly fitted these specifications perfectly.
25 Beautiful she was. She was not yet of pin-up proportions but I felt sure that time
would supply the lack She already had the makings.
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26 Gracious she was. By gracious I mean full of graces. She had an erectness of
carriage, an ease of bearing, a poise that clearly indicated the best of breeding, At table
her manners were exquisite. I had seen her at the Kozy Kampus Korner eating the
specialty of the house--a sandwich that contained scraps of pot roast, gravy, chopped nuts,
and a dipper of sauerkraut--without even getting her fingers moist.
27 Intelligent she was not. in fact, she veered in the opposite direction. But I believed
that under my guidance she would smarten up. At any rate, it was worth a try. It is, after all,
easier to make a beautiful dumb girl smart than to make an ugly smart girl beautiful.
28 "Petey," I said, "are you in love with Polly Espy?"
29 "I think she's a keen kid," he replied, "but I don't know if you'd call it love. Why?"
30 "Do you," I asked, "have any kind of formal arrangement with her? I mean are you
going steady or anything like that?"
31 "No. We see each other quite a bit, but we both have other dates. Why?"
32 "Is there," I asked, "any other man for whom she has a particular fondness?"
33 "Not that I know of. Why?"
34 I nodded with satisfaction. "In other words, if you were out of the picture, the field
would be open. Is that right?"
35 "I guess so. What are you getting at?"
36 "Nothing, nothing," I said innocently, and took my suitcase out of the closet.
37 "Where are you going?" asked Petey.
38 "Home for the weekend." I threw a few things into the bag.
39 "Listen," he said, clutching my arm eagerly, "while you're home, you couldn't get
some money from your old man, could you, and lend it to me so I can buy a raccoon
coat?"
40 "I may do better than that," I said with a mysterious wink and closed my bag and
left.
41 "Look," I said to Petey when I got back Monday morning. I threw open the suitcase
and revealed the huge, hairy, gamy object that my father had worn in his Stutz Bearcat in
1925.
42 " Holy Toledo!" said Petey reverently. He plunged his hands into the raccoon coat
and then his face. "Holy Toledo!" he repeated fifteen or twenty times.
43 "Would you like it?" I asked.
44 "Oh yes!" he cried, clutching the greasy peltto him. Then a canny look came into
his eyes. "What do you want for it?"
45 "Your girl," I said, mincing no words.
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46 "Polly?" he said in a horrified whisper. "You want Polly?"
47 "That's right."
48 He flung the coat from him. "Never," he said stoutly.
49 I shrugged. "Okay. If you don't want to be in the swim, I guess it's your business."
50 I sat down in a chair and pretended to read a book, but out of the corner of my eye
I kept watching Petey. He was a torn man. First he looked at the coat with the expression
of a waif at a bakery window. Then he turned away and set his jaw resolutely. Then he
looked back at the coat, with even more longing in his face. Then he turned away, but with
not so much resolution this time. Back and forth his head swiveled, desire waxing,
resolution waning . Finally he didn't turn away at all; he just stood and stared with mad lust
at the coat.
51 "It isn't as though I was in love with Polly," he said thickly. "Or going steady or
anything like that."
52 "That's right," I murmured.
53 "What's Polly to me, or me to Polly?"
54 "Not a thing," said I.
55 "It's just been a casual kick --just a few laughs, that's all."
56 "Try on the coat," said I.
57 He complied. The coat bunched high over his ears and dropped all the way down
to his shoe tops. He looked like a mound of dead raccoons. "Fits fine," he said happily.
58 I rose from my chair. "Is it a deal?" I asked, extending my hand.
59 He swallowed. "It's a deal," he said and shook my hand.
60 I had my first date with Polly the following evening. This was in the nature of a
survey; I wanted to find out just how much work I had to do to get her mind up to the
standard I required. I took her first to dinner. "Gee, that was a delish (=delicious) dinner,"
she said as we left the restaurant. Then I took her to a movie. "Gee, that was a marvy
(=marvelous) movie," she said as we left the theater. And then I took her home. "Gee, I
had a sensaysh (=sensational) time," she said as she bade me good night.
61 I went back to my room with a heavy heart. I had gravely underestimated the size
of my task. This girl's lack of information was terrifying. Nor would it be enough merely to
supply her with information First she had to be taught to think. This loomed as a project of
no small dimensions, and at first I was tempted to give her back to Petey. But then I got to
thinking about her abundant physical charms and about the way she entered a room and
the way she handled a knife and fork, and I decided to make an effort.
62 I went about it, as in all things, systematically. I gave her a course in logic. It
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happened that I, as a law student, was taking a course in logic myself, so I had all the
facts at my fingertips. "Polly," I said to her when I picked her up on our next date, "tonight
we are going over to the Knolland talk."
63 "0o, terrif (=terrific)," she replied. One thing I will say for this girl: you would go far
to find another so agreeable.
64 We went to the Knoll, the campus trysting place, and we sat down under an old
oak, and she looked at me expectantly. "What are we going to talk about?" she asked.
65 "Logic."
66 She thought this over for a minute and decided she liked it. "Magnif
(=magnificent)," she said.
67 "Logic," I said, clearing my throat, "is the science of thinking. Before we can think
correctly, we must first learn to recognize the common fallacies of logic. These we will take
up tonight."
68 " Wow-dow!" she cried, clapping her hands delightedly.
69 I winced, but went bravely on. "First let us examine the fallacy called Dicto
Slmpliciter."
70 "By all means," she urged, batting her lashes eagerly.
71, "Dicto Simpliciter means an argument based on an unqualifiedgeneralization. For
example: Exercise is good. Therefore everybody should exercise."
72 "I agree," said Polly earnestly. "1 mean exercise is wonderful. I mean it builds the
body and everything."
73 "Polly," I said gently, "the argument is a fallacy. Exercise is good is an unqualified
generalization. For instance, if you have heart disease, exercise is bad, not good. Many
people are ordered by their doctors not to exercise. You must qualify the generalization.
You must say exercise is usually good, or exercise is good for most people. Otherwise you
have committed a Dicto Simplioiter. Do you see?"
74 "No, " she confessed. "But this is marvy. Do more! Do morel"
75 "It will be better if you stop tugging at my sleeve," I told her, and when she desisted,
I continued: "Next we take up a fallacy called Hasty Generalization. Listen carefully: You
can't speak French. I can't speak French. Petey Burch can't speak French. I must
therefore conclude that nobody at the University of Minnesota can speak French."
76 "Really?" said Polly, amazed. "Nobody?"
77 I hid my exasperation. "Polly, it's a fallacy. The generalization is reached too hastily.
There are too few instances to support such a conclusion."
78 " Know any more fallacies?" she asked breathlessly. "This is more fun than
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dancing even."
79 I fought off a wave of despair. I was getting nowhere with this girl absolutely
nowhere. Still, I am nothing if not persistent. I continued.
80 "Next comes Post Hoc. Listen to this: Let's not take Bill on our picnic. Every time
we take him out with us, it rains."
81 "1 know somebody like that," she exclaimed. "A girl back home--Eula Becker, her
name is, it never falls. Every single time we take her on a picnic--"
82 "Polly," I said sharply, "it's a fallacy. Eula Becker doesn't cause the rain. She has
no connection with the rain. You are guilty of Post Hoc if you blame Eula Becker."
83 "I'11 never do that again," she promised contritely."Are you mad at me?"
84 I sighed deeply. "No, Polly, I'm not mad."
85 "Then tell me some more fallacies."
86 "All right. Let's try Contradictory Premises."
87 "Yes, let's," she chirped, blinking" her eyes happily.
88 I frowned, but plunged ahead. "Here's an example of Contradictory Premises: If
God can do anything, can He make a stone so heavy that He won't be able to lift it?"
89 "Of course," she replied promptly.
90 "But if He can do anything, He can lift the stone," I pointed out.
91 "Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Well, then I guess He can't make the stone."
92 "But He can do anything," I reminded her.
93 She scratched her pretty, empty head. "I'm all confused," she admitted.
94 "Of course you are. Because when the premises of an argument contradict each
other, there can be no argument. If there is an irresistible force, there can be no
immovable object. If there is an immovable object, there can be no irresistible force. Get
it?"
95 "Tell me some more of this keen stuff," she said eagerly.
96 I consulted my watch. "I think we'd better call it a night. I'll take you home now, and
you go over all the things you've learned. We'll have another session tomorrow night."
97 I deposited her at the girls' dormitory, where she assured me that she had had a
perfectly terrif evening, and I went glumly to my room. Petey lay snoring in his bed, the
raccoon coat huddled like a great hairy beast at his feet. For a moment I considered
waking him and telling him that he could have his girl back. It seemed clear that my project
was doomed to failure. The girl simply had a logic-proof head.
98 But then I reconsidered. I had wasted one evening: I might as well waste another.
Who knew? Maybe somewhere in the extinct crater of her mind, a few embers still
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smouldered. Maybe somehow I could fan them into flame. Admittedly it was not a
prospect fraught with hope, but I decided to give it one more try.
99 Seated under the oak the next evening I said, "Our first fallacy tonight is called Ad
Misericordiam."
100 She quivered with delight.
101 "Listen closely," I said. "A man applies for a job. When the boss asks him what his
qualifications are, he replies that he has a wife and six children at home, the wife is a
helpless cripple, the children have nothing to eat, no clothes to wear, no shoes on their
feet, there are no beds in the house, no coal in the cellar, and winter is coming."
102 A tear rolled down each of Polly's pink cheeks. "Oh, this is awful, awful," she
sobbed.
103 "Yes, it's awful," I agreed, "but it's no argument. The man never answered the
boss's questions about his qualifications. Instead he appealed to the boss's sympathy. He
committed the fallacy of Ad Misericordiam. Do you understand?"
104 "Have you got a handkerchief?" she blubbered.
105 I handed her a handkerchief and tried to keep from screaming while she wiped
her eyes. "Next," I said in a carefully controlled tone, "we will discuss False Analogy. Here
is an example: Students should be allowed to look at their textbooks during examinations.
After all, surgeons have X-rays to guide them during an operation, lawyers have briefs to
guide them during a trial, carpenters have blueprints to guide them when they are building
a house. Why, then, shouldn't students be allowed to look at their textbooks during an
examination?"
106 "There now," she said enthusiastically, "is the most marvy idea I've heard in
years."
107 "Polly," I said testily, "the argument is all wrong. Doctors, lawyers, and carpenters
aren't taking a test to see how much they have learned, but students are. The situations
are altogether different, and you can't make an analogy between them."
108 "1 still think it's a good idea," said Polly.
109 "Nuts," I muttered. Doggedly I pressed on. "Next we'll try Hypothes is contrary to
Fact."
110 "Sounds yummy," was Polly's reaction.
111 "Listen: If Madame Curie had not happened to leave a photographic plate in a
drawer with a chunk of pitchblende (n.沥青油矿), the world today would not know about
radium ."
112 "True, true," said Polly, nodding her head. "Did you see the movie? Oh, it just
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knocked me out. That Walter Pidgeon is so dreamy. I mean he fractures me."
113 "If you can forget Mr. Pidgeon for a moment," I said coldly, "I would like to point
out that the statement is a fallacy. Maybe Madame Curie would have discovered radium at
some later date. Maybe somebody else would have discovered it. Maybe any number of
things would have happened. You can't start with a hypothesis that is not true and then
draw any supportable conclusions from it."
114 "They ought to put Walter Pidgeon in more pictures," said Polly. "I hardly ever see
him anymore.
115 One more chance, I decided. But just one more. There is a limit to what flesh and
blood can bear. "The next fallacy is called Poisoning the Well."
116 "How cute!" she gurgled.
117 "Two men are having a debate. The first one gets up and says, ‘My opponent is
a notorious liar. You can't believe a word that he is going to say. '... Now, Polly, think. Think
hard. What's wrong?"
118 I watched her closely as she knit her creamy brow in concentration. Suddenly, a
g1immer of intelligence—the first I had seen--came into her eyes. "It's not fair," she said
with indignation. "It's not a bit fair. What chance has the second man got if the first man
calls him a liar before he even begins talking?"
119 "Right!" I cried exultantly. "One hundred per cent right. It's not fair. The first man
has poisoned the well before anybody could drink from it. He has hamstrung his opponent
before he could even start. „ Polly, I’m proud of you."
120 " Pshaw" she murmured, blushing with pleasure.
121 "You see, my dear, these things aren't so hard All you have to do is concentrate.
Think--examine—evaluate. Come now, let's review everything we have learned.”
122 "Fire away," she said with an airy wave of her hand.
123 Heartened by the knowledge that Polly was not altogether a cretin, I began a long,
patient review of all I had told her. Over and over and over again I cited instances pointed
out flaws, kept hammering away without let-up. It was like digging a tunnel. At first
everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or
even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was
rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring
in and all was bright.
124 Five gruelling nights this took, but it was worth it. I had made a logician out of
Polly; I had taught her to think. My job was done. She was worthy of me at last. She was a
fit wife for me, a proper hostess for my many mansions, a suitable mother for my
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well-heeled children.
125 It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary, Just
as Pygmalion loved the perfect woman he had fashioned, so I loved mine. I determined to
acquaint her with my feeling at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our
relationship from academic to romantic.
126 "Polly," I