Poker in Literature
from Henry James to Sinclair Lewis
Poker may have undergone a boom in the early part of the 21st century but the game (in all its variants) has always held a fascination for classical authors and literature in general. You will not be finding any references to 'Texas Hold 'em", "The Nuts" or even Doyle Brunson in these extracts, but poker has formed a staple diet of the literary greats.
"To begin with, you must come to the club."
"What club?"
"The Occidental. You will see all the Americans there; all the best of them, at least. Of course you play poker?"
"Oh, I say," cried Newman, with energy, "you are not going to lock me up in a club and stick me down at a card-table! I haven't come all this way for that."
"What the deuce have you come for! You were glad enough to play poker in St. Louis, I recollect, when you cleaned me out."
"I have come to see Europe, to get the best out of it I can. I want to see all the great things, and do what the clever people do."
"The clever people? Much obliged. You set me down as a blockhead, then?"
Henry James, The American Ch. 2 (1877)
"Trent," he said, "this is slow! Let us have a friendly game - you and I."
Trent yawned.
"Come on, then," he said. "Single Poker or Euchre, eh?"
"I do not mind," Monty replied affably. "Just which you prefer."
"Single Poker, then," Trent said.
"And the stakes?"
"We've nothing left to play for," Trent answered gloomily, "except cartridges."
E. Phillips Oppenheim, A Millionaire of Yesterday Ch. 2 (1906)
The Committee on Gerrymander worked late, drawing intricate lines on a map of the State, and being weary sought repose in a game of poker. At the close of the game the six Republican members were bankrupt and the single Democrat had all the money. On the next day, when the Committee was called to order for business, one of the luckless six mounted his legs, and said:
"Mr. Chairman, before we bend to our noble task of purifying politics, in the interest of good government I wish to say a word of the untoward events of last evening. If my memory serves me the disasters which overtook the Majority of this honourable body always befell when it was the Minority's deal. It is my solemn conviction, Mr. Chairman, and to its affirmation I pledge my life, my fortune, and my sacred honour, that that wicked and unscrupulous Minority redistricted the cards!"
Ambrose Bierce, Six and One in Fantastic Fables (1899)
Silence, except for the clatter of chips.
Babbitt stood beside them, very lonely. He hinted, after a period of highly concentrated playing, “Guess I might take a hand, Joe.”
“Sure. Sit in. How many chips you want? Let’s see; you were here with your wife, last year, wa’n’t you?” said Joe Paradise.
That was all of Babbitt’s welcome to the old home.
He played for half an hour before he spoke again. His head was reeking with the smoke of pipes and cheap cigars, and he was weary of pairs and four-flushes, resentful of the way in which they ignored him. He flung at Joe:
“Working now?”
“Nope.”
“Like to guide me for a few days?”
“Well, jus’ soon. I ain’t engaged till next week.”
Only thus did Joe recognize the friendship Babbitt was offering him. Babbitt paid up his losses and left the shack rather childishly. Joe raised his head from the coils of smoke like a seal rising from surf, grunted, “I’ll come ’round t’morrow,” and dived down to his three aces.
Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt p. 571 (1935)
It was in this mood that he would occasionally dress up, go for a shave, and, putting on his gloves, sally forth quite actively. Not with any definite aim. It was more a barometric condition. He felt just right for being outside and doing something.
On such occasions, his money went also. He knew of several poker rooms down town. A few acquaintances he had in downtown resorts and about the City Hall. It was a change to see them and exchange a few friendly commonplaces.
He had once been accustomed to hold a pretty fair hand at poker. Many a friendly game had netted him a hundred dollars or more at the time when that sum was merely sauce to the dish of the game - not the all in all. Now, he thought of playing.
"I might win a couple of hundred. I'm not out of practice."
It is but fair to say that this thought had occurred to him several times before he acted upon it. The poker room which he first invaded was over a saloon in West Street, near one of the ferries. He had been there before. Several games were going. These he watched for a time and noticed that the pots were quite large for the ante involved.
"Deal me a hand," he said at the beginning of a new shuffle. He pulled up a chair and studied his cards. Those playing made that quiet study of him which is so unapparent, and yet invariably so searching.
Poor fortune was with him at first. He received a mixed collection without progression or pairs. The pot was opened.
"I pass," he said.
On the strength of this, he was content to lose his ante. The deals did fairly by him in the long run, causing him to come away with a few dollars to the good.
The next afternoon he was back again, seeking amusement and profit. This time he followed up three of a kind to his doom. There was a better hand across the table, held by a pugnacious Irish youth, who was a political hanger-on of the Tammany district in which they were located. Hurstwood was surprised at the persistence of this individual, whose bets came with a sang- froid which, if a bluff, was excellent art. Hurstwood began to doubt, but kept, or thought to keep, at least, the cool demeanour with which, in olden times, he deceived those psychic students of the gaming table, who seem to read thoughts and moods, rather than exterior evidences, however subtle. He could not down the cowardly thought that this man had something better and would stay to the end, drawing his last dollar into the pot, should he choose to go so far. Still, he hoped to win much--his hand was excellent. Why not raise it five more?
"I raise you three," said the youth.
"Make it five," said Hurstwood, pushing out his chips.
"Come again," said the youth, pushing out a small pile of reds.
"Let me have some more chips," said Hurstwood to the keeper in charge, taking out a bill.
A cynical grin lit up the face of his youthful opponent. When the chips were laid out, Hurstwood met the raise.
"Five again," said the youth.
Hurstwood's brow was wet. He was deep in now - very deep for him. Sixty dollars of his good money was up. He was ordinarily no coward, but the thought of losing so much weakened him. Finally he gave way. He would not trust to this fine hand any longer.
"I call," he said.
"A full house!" said the youth, spreading out his cards.
Hurstwood's hand dropped.
"I thought I had you," he said, weakly.
The youth raked in his chips, and Hurstwood came away, not without first stopping to count his remaining cash on the stair.
"Three hundred and forty dollars," he said.
With this loss and ordinary expenses, so much had already gone.
Back in the flat, he decided he would play no more.
Theodore Dreiser, Sister Carrie Ch. XXXVI (1935)
For nearly a year he drifted about the States; from New York to Chicago, from Chicago to the hot springs in Kansas, Kansas to New Orleans, and so back again to New York - a by-word for drinking, lying, and meanness.
Gambling was his sole pursuit. He had acquired several smart tricks with cards, and had lately consorted with two very clever associates. Teddy looked such an inane and brainless Britisher that he served as a fairly good accomplice and decoy, and he and his partners were ready to play anything, from the shell game with women, to Monte with men.
One evening they were playing poker with a smoothfaced young fellow from the West, who was losing heavily, also a rich Australian, who believed that he was seeing "life." Piles of notes were on the table, when, quite unexpectedly, the smooth-faced one pulled out a revolver and said, "Hands up or I shoot!" In another moment he had turned out their pockets, remarking, " The first who moves his arms is a dead man ! " He next proceeded to rake up all the winnings on the table, and, collecting the whole pile before their agonized eyes, crammed all into the breast of his coat, and still covering them with his shooting-iron, backed, bowing profoundly, towards the door, and so escaped, carrying off every dollar they possessed, as well as a handsome sum belonging to the now enlightened traveller.
And recently Mr. Brice's career had been rather too adventurous and exciting (so he declared); his health had given way, and he decided that he would try change of air and scene, and return to the dear old country. He found the voyage profitable (won a large sum at poker), and arrived at Balmaine Court with certain spoils in the shape of a complete new outfit and portmanteau, and a considerable amount of ready cash, which he had the prudence to bank. Colonel Brice augured well from his son's outward appearance, and received him with effusion ; Mrs. Brice with civility, and Miss Balmaine with very distant politeness. In the governor and the old lady he found but little alteration, but Rosamond was greatly changed. When he had last seen her she was a timid schoolgirl; but here was a remarkably handsome, self-possessed young woman, who held her head as high as a duchess, and, to use his own expression, appeared to " boss the whole show ! "
Balmaine Court and her fortune were in the hands of trustees until her twenty-fifth birthday, but she appeared to do pretty well as she pleased even now! She had two hunters, two smart black cobs—" Day and Martin ;" she dressed well, and carried herself with an air of great independence. Evidently she and her people had forgotten a certain little episode in her past, but he had a better memory. He believed himself to be irresistible, and made overtures of amity, which were disdainfully repulsed. His suggestion that they should " let bygones be bygones " was received with a haughty stare. She ignored his existence in a manner that penetrated even his thick-skinned vanity, and he declared to himself, with oaths, that he would pay her out—and marry her.
As far as his relatives were able to judge, Mr. Brice had brought nothing back with him from America beyond a marvellous knack of compounding mixed drinks, a burning desire to initiate strangers into the mysteries of stud poker, and a few strange expressions. He never appeared before lunch-time, but then he was prepared to sit up till breakfast hour the following day.
" I say," he said one evening to Rosamond, when he found her alone," why are you always so beastly standoff with me ? I'm your mother's step-son, you know - same family. ' Birds in their little nests agree,' and all that, and why should not you and I ? "
"You and I have nothing in common, Mr. Brice; but I have no desire to quarrel with you, or any one."
"No, you'd better not quarrel with me. As for nothing in common, it seems to me we have a good deal. What about your friend - the fellow with the dark moustache? You know very well that I could give you away if I liked."
Dead silence.
Bithia Mary Croker, Miss Balmaine's Past Ch. XX. (1808)
Some poker thoughts from the Victorian era ...
"It will start in here in November and rain about four, and sometimes as much as seven days on a stretch; after that, you may loan out your umbrella for twelve months, with the serene confidence which a Christian feels in four aces."
Mark Twain in The Virginia Territorial Enterprise (1864)On the idea of a pre-deal ante - "It is as if one should be obliged every few minutes to stop playing poker and waste some chips purchasing tickets in a turkey raffle."
John Blackbridge (1879)
"Men who think they can play a pretty good game of poker find themselves in large cities, and they are not contented till they get into a game, and nine times out of ten they get so everlastingly scooped that they can’t tell their own names till they look at it pasted on the inside of their hats."
Poker: How to Play it by One of its Victims (1882) "There is no sympathy in poker. Always keep cool. If you lose your head you will lose all your chips."
William J. Florence, The Gentleman’s Handbook on Poker (1892)Quotations taken from The Quotable Poker Player (2010)
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar