Jerzy Kosinski's Being There, Novel and Film: Changes Not by Chance

College Literature, Spring 2004 by Lazar, Mary

With Chauncey, I tried to develop . . . not necessarily a childlike character but a character who would combine the qualities of an ideal child-absolutely sinless-without any desire to err, to sin or to step into any situation that in any feasible way could possibly change him. . . . But, Chauncey Gardner [sic] as a child had to grow up. His innocence had to be broken. . . . He had to encounter reality in the most unpleasant form for the reader, not for him. . . . Sex is an instinct of life and in my novel it was detached, as Chauncey Gardener [sic] was detached from his situation." (Kosinski, Katherina 200Ia)1

Chance serves others as a mirror; although portions of the novel are written from the protagonist's point of view, we sense little discrimination behind those narratives. People continually interpret Chance's behavior and pronouncements according to their own needs. Through his imitations of their speech and mannerisms, they see themselves reflected and are free to manipulate those reconstructed images. Chance remains mysterious, offering both affirmation and confrontation, lacking any secret or selfish intent.

The basic plot of both the film and the novel reveals Chance as content to live within the boundaries of a house and garden owned by someone Kosinski simply refers to as "Old Man." he is sketchily defined, and his relationship with Chance remains nebulous. Chance has never faced Tillich's boundary situation; interpersonal contact, much less conflict, is an unknown. Chance is incapable of moral choice because he's never had the opportunity. As the modern-day, mythic equivalent of the abandoned child raised by animals, Chance learns only from the radio and TV.

The novel tells a simple story in clearly marked sections, using a male-based Cinderella fairy tale motif built on the Genesis story of a man placed in a garden. The prose is direct, lyrical, and, at times, allegorical. Chance is handsome and well-mannered; he spends his life alternately watching television or tending his trees and plants. He has been sheltered from direct contact with all but a few human beings by the Old Man, and we know little about Chance's heritage other than that he was born "by chance" to a feeble-minded woman-or so the Old Man tells him, and he must agree to stay within the house and garden or be sent to an institution. Incapable of normal mental activity, either because he has inherited his mother's I.Q. or because he has been isolated-readers can't be sure-Chance nonetheless considers his own difference from plants, a difference which involves self recognition in a mirror, the ability to "reason or dream," and the freedom to choose on an elementary level, issues omitted from the film (Kosinski 1970, 3). When the Old Man dies and Chance cannot prove to the estate lawyers that he has a right to remain, he dons the Old Man's clothing and wanders into the city, taking a suitcase and, in the film version, his precious remote control; changing channels is the only active decision Chance makes. Soon, the chauffeur of Elizabeth Eve Rand, the wife of a rich, dying entrepreneur, backs her car up, trapping Chance's leg, and he is transported to a second mansion for treatment as Chauncey Gardiner, Eve's misinterpretation of his identifying himself as "Chance, the gardener." EE (her nickname in the novel) is attracted to him, not realizing his sexual inadequacy, but by the end of the novel is interested in another man. Before this, however, his presence in her life exposes others, including the President of the United States, to Chance's innocence and naivete, which they variously interpret either as cunning or as wisdom and reserve. He becomes a national sensation after being interviewed on a television talk show and is being considered as a candidate for a seat on the board of the First American Financial Corporation.2 Placed where he does not belong yet possessing a pure heart and a pleasing appearance, the fool is taken for the wise man. And by confining the action of the novel to seven days' time, Kosinski makes sure that we witness only the miracles, not the crucifixion.