1. The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

chapter 1. of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button by F. Scott Fitzgerald, performed by Anna Butterworth

Episode Transcript

(00:00):
One as long ago as eighteen sixty, it was the proper thing to be
born at home at present, soI am told the high gods of medicine
have decreed that the first cries ofthe young shall be uttered upon the anesthetic
air of a hospital, preferably afashionable one. So young mister and missus

(00:22):
Roger Button were fifty years ahead ofstyle when they decided one day in the
summer of eighteen sixty that their firstbaby should be born in a hospital.
Whether this anachronism had any bearing uponthe astonishing history I am about to set
down will never be known. Ishall tell you what occurred, and let
you judge for yourself. The RogerButtons held an enviable position, both social

(00:48):
and financial, in ante bellum Baltimore. They were related to the this family
and the that family, which,as every Southerner knew, entitled them to
membership in that enormous peerage which whichlargely populated the Confederacy. This was their
first experience with the charming old customof having babies. Mister Button was naturally
nervous. He hoped it would bea boy, so that he could be

(01:11):
sent to Yale College in Connecticut atwhich institution mister Button himself had been known
for four years by the somewhat obviousnickname of Cuff. On the September morning
consecrated to the enormous event, hearose nervously at six o'clock, dressed himself,
adjusted an impeccable stock, and hurriedforth through the streets of Baltimore to

(01:34):
the hospital to determine whether the darknessof the night had borne in new life
upon its bosom. When he wasapproximately a hundred yards from the Maryland Private
Hospital for Ladies and Gentlemen, hesaw doctor Keene, the family physician,
descending the front steps, rubbing hishands together with a washing movement, as
all doctors are required to do bythe unwritten ethics of their profession. Mister

(02:00):
mister Roger Button, the president ofRoger Button and Company Wholesale Hardware, began
to run toward doctor Keen with muchless dignity than was expected from a Southern
gentleman of that picturesque period. DoctorKean. He galled, oh, Doctor
Kean. The doctor heard him,faced around and stood waiting, a curious

(02:22):
expression settling on his harsh medicinal face. As mister Button drew near what happened,
declared mister Button, as he cameup in a gasping rush. What
is it? How is she aboy? Who is it? What?
Talk? Sense? Said doctor Keensharply. He appeared somewhat irritated. Is

(02:45):
the child born? Begged mister Button. Doctor Keene frowned, Why, yes,
I suppose so. After a fashionagain, he threw a curious glance
at mister Button. Is my wifeall right? Yes? Is it a
boy or a girl? Here?Now? Cried doctor Keene in a perfect

(03:06):
passion of irritation. I'll ask youto go and see for yourself. Outrageous,
He snapped the last word out inalmost one syllable. Then he turned
away, muttering do you imagine acase like this will help my professional reputation?
One more would ruin me, ruinanybody? What's the matter, demanded
mister Button. A pall triplets?No, not triplets, answered the doctor

(03:30):
cunningly. What's more? You cango and see for yourself and get another
doctor. I brought you into theworld, young man, and I've been
physician to your family for forty years. But I'm through with you. I
don't want to see you or anyof your relatives ever again goodbye. Then
he turned sharply, and without anotherword, climbed into his phaeton, which

(03:51):
was waiting at the curbstone, anddrove severely away. Mister Button stood there
upon the sidewalk, stupefied and tremblingfrom head to foot. What horrible mishap
had occurred? He had suddenly lostall desire to go into the Maryland Private
Hospital for Ladies and gentlemen. Itwas with the greatest difficulty that a moment

(04:12):
later he forced himself to mount thesteps and enter the front door. A
nurse was sitting behind a desk inthe opaque gloom of the hall. Swallowing
his shame, mister Button approached her. Good morning, she remarked, looking
up at him pleasantly. Good morning. I I'm mister Button. At this

(04:32):
a look of utter terror spread itselfover the girl's face. She rose to
her feet and seemed about to flyfrom the hall, restraining herself only with
the most apparent difficulty. I wantto see my child, said mister Button.
The nurse gave a little scream.Oh, of course, she cried,

(04:53):
hysterically. Upstairs, right upstairs,go up, She pointed the direction,
and missus Button bathed in a coolperspiration, turned falteringly and began to
mount to the second floor. Inthe upper hall, he addressed another nurse
who approached him base in hand.I'm mister Button, he managed to articulate,

(05:15):
I want to see my clank.The basin clattered to the floor and
rolled in the direction of the stairs. Clank, clank. It began a
methodical descent, as if sharing inthe general terror which this gentleman provoked.
I want to see my child,mister Button almost shrieked. He was on
the verge of collapse. Clank.The basin had reached the first floor.

(05:38):
The nurse regained control of herself andthrough mister Button a look of hearty contempt.
All right, mister Button, sheagreed in a hushed voice. Very
well, but if you knew whata state it's put us all in this
morning, it's perfectly outrageous. Thehospital will never have the ghost of our
reputation. After hurry, he criedhoarsely. I can't stand this. Come

(06:04):
this way, then, mister Button. He dragged himself after her. At
the end of a long hall,they reached a room from which preceded a
variety of howls. Indeed, aroom which in later parlance would have been
known as the crying room. Theyentered. Ranged around the walls were half
a dozen white enameled rolling cribs,each with a tag tied at the head.

(06:29):
Well, gasped mister Button, Whichis mine? There, said the
nurse. Mister Button's eyes followed herpointing finger, and this is what he
saw. Wrapped in a voluminous whiteblanket and partly crammed into one of the
cribs. There sat an old man, apparently about seventy years of age.
His sparse hair was almost white,and from his chin dripped a long,

(06:54):
smoke colored beard, which waved absurdlyback and forth, fanned by the breeze
coming in a window. He lookedup at mister Button with the dim faded
eyes in which lurked a puzzled question. Am I mad? Thundered mister Button,
his terror resolving into rage. Isthis some ghastly hospital joke? Doesn't

(07:15):
seem like a joke to us,replied the nurse severely. And I don't
know whether you're mad or not,but this is most certainly your child.
The cool perspiration redoubled on mister Button'sforehead. He closed his eyes, and
then, opening them, looked again. There was no mistake. He was

(07:36):
gazing at a man of threescore andten a baby of threescore and ten,
a baby whose feet hung over theside of the crib in which it was
reposing. The old man looked placidlyfrom one to the other for a moment,
and then suddenly spoke, in acracked and ancient voice. Are you

(07:57):
my father? He demanded, misterButton, And the nurse started violently.
Because if you are, went onthe old man querilously. I wish you'd
get me out of this place,or at least get them to put a
comfortable rocker in here. Where inGod's name did you come from? Who

(08:20):
are you? Burst out mister Buttonfrantically. I can't tell you exactly who
I am, replied the queerless whine, because I've only been born a few
hours, but my last name iscertainly Button. You lie, you're an
impostor. The old man turned wearilyto the nurse. Nice way to welcome

(08:45):
an you born child, he complained, in a weak voice. Tell em
he's wrong. Why don't you you'rewrong, mister Button, said the nurse
severely. This is your child andyou'll have to make the best of it.
We're going to ask you to takehim home with you as soon as
possible, sometime today home, repeatedmister Button incredulously. Yes, we can't

(09:09):
have him here, We really can't. You know, I'm right glad of
it, whined the old man.This is a fine place to keep a
youngster of quiet tastes. With allthis yelling and howling, I haven't been
able to get a wink of sleep. I asked for something to eat here.
His voice rose to a shrill noteof protest, and they brought me

(09:33):
a bottle of milk. Mister Buttonsank down upon a chair near his son
and concealed his face in his hands. My heavens, he murmured, in
an ecstasy of horror. What willpeople say? What must I do?
You'll have to take him home,insisted the nurse. Immediately, a grotesque

(09:56):
picture formed itself with dreadful clarity beforethe eyes of the tortured man, a
picture of himself walking through the crowdedstreets of the city, with the appalling
apparition stalking by his side. Ican, I can, he moaned.
People would stop to speak to him, and what was he going to say,
he would have to introduce this septuagenarian, this is my son, born

(10:22):
early this morning. And then theold man would gather his blanket around him,
and they would plod on past thebustling stores, the slave market for
a dark instant. Mister Button wishedpassionately that his son was black. Past
the luxurious houses of the residential district, past the home for the aged.
Come pull yourself together, commanded thenurse. See here, the old man

(10:48):
announced, suddenly. If you thinkI'm going to walk home in this blanket,
you're entirely mistaken. Babies always haveblankets. With a malicious crackle,
the old man held up a smallwhite swaddling garment. Look, he quavered.
This is what they had ready forme. Babies always wear those,

(11:11):
said the nurse. Primly, Well, said the old man, This baby's
not going to wear anything in abouttwo minutes. This blanket itches. They
might at least have given me asheet. Keep it on, Keep it
on, said mister Button. Hurriedly. He turned on the nurse. What'll
I do? Go downtown and buyyour son some clothes. Mister Button's son's

(11:35):
voice followed him down into the halland a cane. Father, I want
to have a cane. Mister Buttonbanged the outer door savagely