Response to 1-900

Bausch does not convey imagery in the traditional sense; all images are described in the dialogue, and they tend to be vague. What’s more, it tends to clash—Sharon’s prurient descriptions stand in contrast with scenes from John’s pathetic life, such as him kicking down a door to get to his children or him sitting alone in a mostly unfurnished apartment. In fact, most of 1-900 is a study in contrasts. Sharon’s brief silences are emphasized out next to John’s rambling, and her pragmatic view of the world (she says that “[It’s a strange world out there] only if you let yourself think about it too much.”) stand in juxtaposition with John’s befuddled philosophy. By playing up their differences, Bausch makes the most of a story that consists entirely of dialogue. The speakers are invisible. John only describes himself in the loosest terms, and even if Sharon/Marilyn discussed her appearance, she would probably be lying. Bausch shows that while description can be an important part of a work of fiction, it is not strictly necessary.

Bausch also has a non-traditional protagonist. While John, who is only arguably the main character, is worthy of pity, and maybe even empathy, he is not particularly admirable or likeable. He seems to irritate everyone he comes into contact with. He is utterly lacking in any sort of clarity. And he is, in the end, calling a phone sex line. But Bausch makes it work. Even though readers may not like John, they probably at least feel bad for him, so forging ahead in the story lets the readers see if his troubles are resolved, or at least mitigated. The patent absurdity of the story is compelling, as well—regardless of the readers’ familiarity with telephonic prostitutes, a man asking for “phone friendship” is certainly novel.