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But may this novel be a reminder of the special values of fiction: texture, introspection, complexity. We drank boilermakers, Brownie got a group talking, I listened and made mental notes as to how I could work the dialogue into the script. Film is an art of high points. The novel will be given a second life when it is published next month in a paperback edition in Donald I. This searching becomes, in fact, the stuff of the novel, and the violent action line of Terry Malloy is now seen for what it is: one of the many moral crises in the spiritual and social development of Father Barry. As a curate in a poor parish he must take grave chances if he is to follow Christ his way. There you have the glory of the novel, the reason why, in this age of supercommunication, we should never forsake it. The shipping companies and the stevedore management had accepted - in some cases encouraged - the thugs for years, and in many cases city politicians were nothing less than partners of the longshore union racketeers. I was able also to speak in, to search the interior drama in the heart and mind of a church militant who dares apply the insights of his Saviour to the dark and godless alleyways of the waterfront. His brothers are to be found on New York's troubled West Side, or along Brooklyn's Gowanus Canal, or in the corrupt political-machine towns on the Jersey shore. It worked fine. I mean this literally and figuratively. Home Page World U.{/INSERTKEYS}{/PARAGRAPH} Occasionally the digitization process introduces transcription errors or other problems; we are continuing to work to improve these archived versions. It cannot wander as life wanders, or pause as life always pauses, to contemplate the incidental or the unexpected. I became fascinated with a particular waterfront priest, Father John Corridan, a rangy, ruddy, fast-talking, chain-smoking, tough-minded, sometimes profane Kerryman, a welcome antidote to the stereotyped Barry Fitzgerald, Bing Crosby ''Fah-ther'' so dear to Hollywood hearts. It only required retelling his story from another point of view, and with a different end in mind. Even when the film had been launched successfully, I had thought so much about its potential as a novel that I simply could not resist taking a year out of my life to get it down. It's a ball of twine. But it pays the price for this excitement. It was not only that, having gained a great deal of knowledge and indignation from men on the docks, I was able to speak out in a way not feasible on film. Y'know who that guy was? The film does best when it concentrates on a single character. Another Albert A. Those scenes were not eliminated through any cowardice or fear of censorship, as some critics have suggested. I found that far more was involved than extending a page screenplay to a page novel. I wrote a long piece for The Saturday Evening Post, ''Father John Knows the Score,'' and even broke into the Catholic left-liberal magazine Commonweal with a short essay on this maverick priest's application of Catholic social ethics to the meat-grinder of men the New York waterfront had become. Since I knew boxing and co-managed a fighter, and since longshoremen are avid fight fans, Brownie would tell the curious that we had met at Stillman's Gym, fallen into conversation about fighters and simply drifted over to the West Side to quench our ''thoist. The research took a dramatic turn. Once you set it up it becomes your master, demanding and rather terrifying. So Father Barry, the waterfront priest, is brought to stage center, is allowed to share the action with Terry and to dominate the thinking of the book. Budd Schulberg's novel ''Waterfront'' was published by Random House in , a year after the film ''On the Waterfront'' was released. It tells ''The Informer'' superbly. In the great novels ''Moby-Dick,'' ''War and Peace,'' ''The Red and the Black,'' we see how the action and the ideas are able to flow together with no violence one to the other. The novel gave me a second chance to put my waterfront experience in perspective, with Terry finding his Calvary in a Jersey swamp, and Father Barry facing exile to a ''safer'' parish, where his rebellious spirit may be more prudently contained. View on timesmachine. The novel isn't a straight piece of string. But the restricting form of he said-she said allowed no time to relate Terry to his background, to explore his mind with its groping efforts to shake off its sloth -to catch him off guard, so to speak. I even discussed with my film collaborators scenes that would dramatize this civic blight. Reviewers, actually invoking Zola and Dreiser in their praise of the work, were surprised that after all the kudos the film had received, there was still so much more to say than a minute movie - even one of the best of them - could possibly suggest. It should embrace five or six sequences, each one mounting to a climax that moves the action onward to its final crescendo. In the novel Terry is a single strand in a rope of intertwining fibers, suggesting the knotted complexities of the world of the waterfront that loops around New York, a lawless frontier still almost unknown to the metropolitan citizenry. Maybe what I am trying to say is that a film must act, a book has time to think and wonder. More important, the film's concentration on a single dominating character, brought close to the camera eye, made it esthetically inconvenient, if not impossible, to set Terry's story in its social and historical perspective. It's the best of Schulberg, a full-fledged performance by a gifted American writer. How can he reach difficult decisions except by interior monologues? The ''cowboys'' had flattened his nose, thrown him through a skylight and even into the river, unconscious. The film has a relentless form. Father John - and his more prudent but equally dedicated superior, the still-active Father Phil Carey - enlisted me as a journalistic ally in their efforts to prepare the men for a crucial National Labor Relations Board vote that might have thrown the ''pistol local,'' the Anastasias, and the rest of them out of office in favor of honest rank-and-file leadership. Brownie grabbed me, and the next thing I knew we were running down the street toward our ''home block. The novel has not only time, but the obligation to examine this with great care. Writing in the daily New York Times, the book critic Orville Prescott said it was ''a harsh, grim, indignant, sympathetic story that loses little in dramatic impact because its major characters and story line are familiar. I am not so vain as to claim membership in that great company for ''Waterfront,'' but in that tradition - from Stendhal to Steinbeck - I was able to work veins impossible to mine in dramatic art. Cobb , ending with Father Barry Karl Malden urging the battered, now redeemed Terry to lead intimidated dockers into the pier, thereby breaking the hold of the ''pistol local. Film may be the language of the new generation - and a rich, rewarding language it is. I sat at the kitchen table and wrote down lines I could never make up: ''Ya know what we gotta get rid of - the highocracy! No, it was another tyrant, the minute feature form, that lopped off their heads. Having attended all the hearings of the State Crime Commission on waterfront crime, until scrapbooks and notebooks bulged - even with that Oscar perched on the mantelpiece - I could not overcome the conviction that my job as chronicler of waterfront people and waterfront tensions was far from completed. Fine's Primus Library of Contemporary Americana series. They would think ''reporter'' or ''cop,'' and in either case Brownie and I would be in jeopardy. This demanded an entirely different ending, as well as fuller development of characters who were secondary figures in the film. The accompanying essay serves as the introduction to the new edition. {PARAGRAPH}{INSERTKEYS}This was no ''novelization,'' that bastard word for a bastard byproduct of Hollywood success. I can listen in on his private prayers as he kneels on the cold floor of his cell-like room in the rectory, and I can end not with a dramatic close-up of Marlon Brando, but with the deeper truth of inconclusiveness as this priest stands at night on the edge of the Hudson weighing the martyrdom of Terry Malloy and thinking bitterly of the millions on millions in the great city who do not care, ''Having eyes, they see not. It tends to lose itself in the ramifications of ''War and Peace. The novel is an art of high, middle and low points, and while I believe its form must never be overlooked, it's the sort of form you lock the front door against, knowing full well it will climb through one of the back windows thoughtfully left open for it. But in spite of the praise it received, the novel has generally been lost in the continuing acclaim for the movie that was its basis. It has its own tight logic, and once you stray from that straight and narrow path the tension slackens, the air is let out of the balloon. I'm gonna tell Father John you're fired! He's topped more people 'n Cockeye Dunn. It's an exciting form. In the novel, I found my opportunity to put Terry Malloy in proper focus. The difference between a novel and a film is more qualitative than quantitative. One night we worked our way from bar to bar until we were opposite Pier A saturnine man in a gray suit was at the bar and somehow, on my fifth boilermaker, I forgot my usual role and asked the stranger what he did. Terry's decision, even his fate, became subordinated to the anxious balance and the fate of the waterfront as a whole. While I Continued on page 38 had read about the French working-class priests, and the Central and South American clergy who related their devotion to Christ to the peasant or peon resistance movements, I had not realized that just a few blocks west of comfortable watering holes like Sardi's, there were men in cassocks and turned-around collars who were just as defiant in their stand against greed, oppression and corruption as their brother priests in more exotic parts of the world. As appropriate and effective as was our ending for the film, the closing chapter of the novel afforded me the opportunity I had been waiting for, to relate the waterfront struggle to the struggle for social justice that has divided the Catholic Church for centuries, as it will continue to do into the 21st century. LONG before I was ready to write either a novel or a film, Father Corridan and his rebel disciples in the mob-controlled International Longshoremen's Association had begun to obsess me. Xavier's and the rebel movement that I was not a Hollywood opportunist looking to cash in on their story, but a writer devoted to their cause. Even in the bars friendly to the ''insoigents,'' his pals would wonder what he was doing with an obvious outsider. Days into nights, I listened intently to Father John, whose speech was a unique blend of Hell's Kitchen, baseball slang, an encyclopedic grasp of waterfront economics and an attack on man's inhumanity to man, based on the teachings of Christ as brought up to date in the papal encyclicals on the reconstruction of the social order. To preserve these articles as they originally appeared, The Times does not alter, edit or update them. I was able to follow him into an Irish tenement wake, to take him for a solitary, mind-troubled walk along the river, where he can measure his religious convictions against the spiritually bankrupt atmosphere of a typical waterfront neighborhood. TimesMachine is an exclusive benefit for home delivery and digital subscribers. Elia Kazan and Marlon Brando did sensitive and brilliant things with this character, and I had written his dialogue carefully, with an ear to my wanderings along the riverfront. It was this unhealthy axis that made it so difficult to bring any real democratic reforms to the graft-ridden docks. We need a smarter resoicher. Brownie promised to take me in hand and ''walk me through the waterfront,'' but first we had to work up a cover story. But the novel is both an X-ray and a wide-angle lens, the ideal medium for self-appraisal and the development of social themes. The film must go from significant episode to more significant episode in a constantly mounting pattern. The film was focused on Terry Malloy, a half-vicious hoodlum caught between the waterfront mob and the groping, anxious beginnings of a conscience. There is the essential difference. When my film script was thrown back in my face and Elia Kazan's by Hollywood's leading moguls, I took refuge in the thought that I had such an overabundance of material that I could develop the same material as a novel. One of Father John's most devoted disciples was little Arthur Browne, proud of the fact that he was one of the stand-up ''insoigents'' in the Chelsea local run by fat cats and their ''pistoleros. Then he gave that undefeated laugh of his. The film had no time for this sort of thing. Wait'll I see that bum again - I'll top 'im off lovely. In the early 's when I was researching the waterfront, I knew that the wholesale crimes of the harbor were not to be explained merely by the prominence of certain gentlemen from Sing Sing and Dannemora in positions of authority on the docks.