Requiem for a Dream: A Novel

“Ya know what we oughtta do man? Huh? We oughtta get a piece a this shit and cut it and off half of it, ya dig? Yeah baby, this stuffs good enough to cut in half and still get you wasted. Yeah, we/d just take a taste for ourselves and off the rest. We could double our money. Easy. Thas right baby. An then we buys a couple a pieces an we got somethin else goin man. It sure would be righteous baby. All we gotta do is cool it with the shit, you know, just a taste once in a while but no heavy shit—Right on baby—just enough to stay straight an we/d have a fuckin bundle in no time. You bet your sweet ass. Those bucks would just be pilin up till we was ass deep in braid jim. Thats right man, and we wouldnt fuck it up like those other assholes. We wont get strung out and blow it. We/d be cool and take care a business and in no time we/d get a pound of pure and just sit back and count the bread. No hustlin the fuckin streets. You goddamn right mutha fucka.”

This passage lays out Harry and Tyrone’s plan: to score a piece of Brody’s strong heroin, dilute it, and resell it at a profit, until they can afford a pound of pure heroin, which would put them on the track to becoming big-time dealers. However, Harry foreshadows their eventual addiction and the ultimate failure of their plan. Harry and Tyrone’s responses can be identified by Harry’s use of stereotypical Jewish affectations and New York slang, while Tyrone’s are written in a stereotype of African American Vernacular English.

“They went back to the office, got paper cups filled with water and each one staked out a small portion of the floor for themselves. The radio was still playing but the concentration was so intense that no one heard the music or was aware of anything but their own cooker as they carefully dumped the heroin in it, then added the water and heated it until the dope dissolved, then drew the liquid up through the cotton in the cooker into the dropper, then tied up. Each knew they were not alone in the room, but paid absolutely no attention to what was going on around them. When their favorite vein was ready they tapped the needle into it and watched the first bubble of blood pulse through the fluid and streak to the surface, their eyes glued to it, their senses aware only of the fact that they got a good hit and that their stomachs were churning with anticipation and then they squeezed the bulb and shot the shit into their vein and waited for the first rush and then let the dropper fill with blood again and squeezed that in and then booted again and went with the flow as they flushed and felt the sweat ooze from their skin then filled their droppers with water and let their works set in the cup of water while they leaned back against the wall and lit a cigarette, their movements slow, their eyes half closed, everything inside them quiet and mellow; the air smooth, their lives free from all concerns; their speech slower, quieter. Harry started picking his nose.”

Harry and the others have a routine of use that is almost ritualistic; Selby Jr., who formerly had an addiction, uses scenes such as this to illustrate the dark allure of heroin that ultimately results in the protagonists’ decline and loss of agency to their addiction. What was initially recreation becomes a desperate act of survival later in the novel as they fall victim to The Effects of Drug Addiction. While such a frank depiction may be shocking, this scene is important because it is the most descriptive depiction of heroin use in the novel and should be kept in mind throughout the many other instances of characters using heroin.

“The water was quickly boiled and each had a glass of tea when they returned to the living room, just at the end of the commercials, and sat in the same strategic positions, their ear and eye still tuned to the television, as they discussed and speculated on the enormity of the coming event in the life of Sara Goldfarb, an event of such prodigious proportions and importance that it infused her with a new will to live and materialized a dream that brightened her days and soothed her lonely nights.”

The invitation to an unknown television show provides Sara with the opportunity to interact with her favorite source of entertainment, as well as a new lease on life. In her mind, this is an opportunity to become famous—a piece of the glamorous (but unattainable) American Dream for which she still longs.

“No matter what she is doing one and a half eyes on the television makes the job, the day and life pass bearably on.”

Sara’s television addiction has trained her to constantly attune part of her attention to the TV. She developed this addiction in response to loneliness; the entertainment that TV shows provide her fills the gap left by Harry and her deceased husband, Seymour, giving her a companion with whom to spend her lonely days.

“[Harry:] Some­one like you could re­al­ly make it al­right for me. With you with me I could re­al­ly do some­thing. Mar­i­on al­most sighed, Do you re­al­ly mean that Har­ry? Do you re­al­ly think I could in­spire you? Har­ry looked into her eyes, then at her face and gen­tly glid­ed the tip of a fin­ger over her cheek and traced the out­line of her nose, his face and eyes in a soft and ten­der smile, You could re­al­ly make my life worth while. A guy needs some­thing to give his life a rea­son or whats the point of liv­ing? I need more than the streets. I don’t want to be a float­ing crap game all my life. I want to be some­thing…an­y­thing. Mar­i­on hugged him tight­ly, O Har­ry I think I re­al­ly can help you be some­thing. Theres some­thing in me thats cry­ing to come out but it needs the right per­son to open the lock. You can un­lock it Har­ry. I know it.”

Harry and Marion’s relationship begins with the earnest hope that they can help each other become the people they have always wanted to be. They bond over their mutual dream. However, heroin, the means by which they strive to achieve this dream eventually supplants the dream itself. This unfortunate end to their dream and the dreams of other characters is foreshadowed numerous times and expected by the reader. In this way, readers must knowingly follow characters as Selby Jr. depicts the realistic, horrific effects of addiction.

“But now she was dream­ing. Some­times a cou­ple of dreams in one night. Like see­ing chick­ens fly­ing through her room, but they were neat­ly plucked and roasted to a gold­en brown with lit­tle balls of ka­sha on their backs. And then that roast beef. It kept roll­ing down the hill threat­en­ing to crush her but some­how it just whirled by, just mis­sing her by a few inches, drag­ging be­hind it a gra­vy boat filled with rich brown gra­vy, and bowls of mashed potatoes and choc­o­late cov­ered cherries with cher­ry juice fill­ing. A cou­ple nights of dream­ing and Sara de­cid­ed enough al­ready. She got the name of the doc­tor from her lady friend and made an ap­point­ment. I dont know from diet pills, but eggs and grape­fruit I/ve had up to here thank you.”

Sara’s sections of the narrative are populated by fantastical daydreams that progress into frightening delusions as her obsession over weight loss transitions into a dangerous addiction to diet pills. After several difficult days on her stringent diet, Sara gives up and takes to easy way out. This is the beginning of Sara’s catastrophic entry into the flawed healthcare system.

“She con­tin­ued to draw the child, in each draw­ing the child was a year old­er and as she pro­gressed the draw­ings be­came more skill­ful, more life­like, more filled with emo­tion and she be­gan to sketch lit­tle birth­day can­dles un­der the draw­ings show­ing the age of the child and then the fea­tures be­came more dis­tinct and the hair long and black, the same si­lent pain on her face, and then she started to blos­som and be­come a wom­an and she was slow­ly trans­formed from a pret­ty child to a love­ly girl and then a beau­ti­ful wom­an but al­ways that haunt­ed and pained ex­pres­sion on her face, and then she stopped draw­ing and looked at the beau­ti­ful wom­an on the pad look­ing back at her, a wom­an of long flow­ing lines and curves, clas­sic fea­tures, dark shin­ing hair, her in­ner pain re­flected in her dark and pen­e­trat­ing eyes, and then she left a wide space and sketched an­oth­er fig­ure, a fig­ure of un­cer­tain age, but cer­tain­ly much old­er than the last fig­ure, but the lines and curves the same, the body the same, the fea­tures of the face the same un­til it sud­den­ly turned into the an­guished ex­pres­sion of the Munch fig­ure.”

Marion finds artistic inspiration again after her date with Arnold, suggesting that Harry may not inspire her as much as the material fineries that wealth brings. Marion’s drawing represents herself, though she is characteristically unable to recognize this. Like the girl in her drawing, Marion was praised for her beauty growing up, yet she felt alone and hollow inside, represented by the girl’s metamorphosis into Edvard Munch’s grotesque figure as she ages.

“He wasnt go­ing to be like those oth­er guys who stayed in the busi­ness too long and got busted for heavy time or ended up in some­bod­ys way and got burned. No, not me man. We/re go­ing to make it.”

Harry recognizes that the longer he stays in the drug trade, the less likely he is to be able to exit it, particularly because he is using his own product. He runs the risk of being arrested or killed. What he does not realize is that his success depends completely on his and Tyrone’s access to strong heroin, since they cannot afford a significant quantity of uncut heroin like the Italian drug dealers.

“When you know the streets an stay away from the nuts, those drunk­en madmen who run around with butch­er knives and guns, then theys just streets that you got to beat, but when you got somethin that some­body elses is wantin then you got trou­ble jim. Then its more than just con­crete and tar you got to fight…you got to be fightin the fuckin crazies that those streets put into dudes. One of those cats by him­self is al­right. An the streets by them­selves aint no big deal. But when you puts them to­geth­er you got the mutha fuckin crazies jim an then you got to look out for your ass. An when you got somethin some­body else wants you got some trou­ble and when that somethin is shit an you walkin those streets you got some se­ri­ous trou­ble. Sheeit. Its a bitch jim but the only way to beat those streets is to make them work for you. You just got to out hus­tle them mutha fuckas man.”

Even before the drug shortage that begins in Chapter 4, the streets are dangerous to anyone carrying anything of value. Tyrone has lived a hard life, but he has ironically gotten by just fine on the rough streets because he has nothing. Now that he and Harry have been making money, he has something to lose, and his familiar surroundings become threatening.

“Vis­it­ing his moth­er didnt seem like such a good idea when the time came to leave, but a lit­tle taste makes all things pos­si­ble.”

Throughout Chapter 3, Harry, Tyrone, and Marion’s drug use becomes a dependency. Heroin initially aids Harry in doing unpleasant tasks, like visiting Sara, but the danger of relying on it is that he will soon be unable to do anything without getting high first. For this reason, successful dealers, like Big Tim later in the novel, avoid using their own product. However, it is too late for the main characters, who have come to rely on their own supply no matter the cost.

“Some­thing was wrong. Her jaw hurt. Her mouth felt fun­ny. She couldnt fig­ure. It tast­ed like old socks. Dry. Sick­en­ing. Her stom­ach. O, her stom­ach. Such a mess. Like theres some­thing mov­ing. Like theres a voice in there say­ing look out, LOOK OUT!!!! Theyll get you. She looked over her shoul­der again. No­body. Noth­ing. LOOK OUT! Who’s get­ting? Whats to get? The voice kept rumbling in her stom­ach. Be­fore when it started she took more cof­fee or an­oth­er pill and it went away, now its just there. All the time. And that nas­ty coat­ing in her mouth, like old paste, it used to go away, or some­thing. It didnt both­er her. Now, ech. And all the time the trem­bles in the arms and legs.”

As Sara’s tolerance to her diet pills increases, the dosage is no longer enough to stave off withdrawals and the side effects of amphetamine addiction. Sleep-deprived and starved, she is afflicted by an acute paranoia. In her ignorant, trusting way, she does not realize the seriousness of her predicament because of her faith in her doctor.

“A week lat­er they still couldnt score for any un­cut weight so they tried again to stop us­ing, but this time they were back in the spoon be­fore they were dressed. They awoke ear­li­er than usu­al with pan­ic roil­ing their stom­achs, their eyes burn­ing and their noses run­ning, and the mag­ic of the dope healed all their ills im­me­di­ate­ly. It wasnt that they couldnt stop us­ing, it was just that this wasnt the time. They had too much to do and they werent feel­ing well. When eve­ry­thing was straight­ened out they would sim­ply cut the whole scene loose, but for now theyd take an oc­ca­sion­al taste to hang loose.”

Like many people with addictions, Harry, Tyrone, Marion and Alice want to believe that they can quit whenever they want to. However, as heroin becomes more and more scarce, it becomes harder to lie to themselves. Their dependency on the drug is quickly becoming a desperate addiction. Their addiction to their own supply is foreshadowed and expected, and readers must now experience the tumultuous downsides of the earlier, light moments in the novel.

“He looked at the old man. He stared. Hard…He look like a fuckin rat jim. Thas what he look like. A fuckin rat. His skin be so fuckin tight an gray an he got tracks all up an down his arms, his legs an his neck an he sittin back fat mouthin while he gettin ready to do some more time. Sheeit, that aint no fuckin way jim. Ah aint gon­na mar­ry no hab­it. No mutha fuckin death do us part with me an no jones. Uh uh. You aint gon­na catch Ty­rone C. Love boostin no steaks outta no store or sneakin down no cel­lar to cop their cof­fee. Sheeit, when ah gets out an we gets straight we jus gon­na wheel an deal an not go fuckin with any pen­ny boolshit. We gon­na make it good jim. Things get straight an we get us a pound a pure an we gon­na be back jus like we was, sittin back jus countin those bucks, an me an Al­ice gon­na live high offa that hog jim.”

Encountering the “old dope fiend” causes Tyrone (and later Harry) to feel great cognitive dissonance. The old man is a stark reminder of what the future has in store for them, if they do not kick their habit. He acts as foreshadowing to the reader as well as Tyrone. Tyrone echoes Harry’s earlier sentiment that he will never let himself stoop this low; however, this scene reveals that Tyrone is already in denial about his drug dependency.

“They knew that soon­er or lat­er there would be dope all over the city, just like be­fore. There was too much mon­ey in­volved for there not to be. Har­ry talked about it from time to time with Mar­i­on and, of course, the con­ver­sa­tion was as fruit­less as the ones with Ty­rone. Ex­cept it did keep the bond be­tween them cemented. As long as they could share they felt close and that was im­por­tant. And when­ev­er they started to feel the chills of fear and the grind­ing of anx­i­e­ty they sim­ply got off and melted all the cares and con­cerns away with its warmth. Sometimes they would fix up new cook­ers just for the sake of do­ing it. It was part of keep­ing house. The en­tire rou­tine made them feel a part of some­thing. It was some­thing looked for­ward to with the great­est of joy and an­tic­i­pa­tion. The en­tire rit­u­al was sym­bol­ic of their life and needs.”

As the heroin shortage wears on, Harry and Marion are forced to confront the degree to which the drug has become the center of their life together. No longer do they bond over shared dreams of a café; instead, they go through the motions of the ritual of heroin use, feeding their addiction with the misplaced feelings of security and stability it provides for them.

“It was the same. But she couldnt con­vince her­self and all she could do was try to con­vince Ar­nold and so she chanted her man­tra it was the same and though it did not make her feel clean it al­lowed her to do what had to be done and she just re­minded her­self, from time to time, that Har­ry needed the mon­ey and she was re­al­ly do­ing it for him and not for the mon­ey and it was the same, it was the same, it was the same.”

Marion at last resorts to sleeping with Arnold for money to pay for heroin. While she essentially used sex work in exchange for high-class experiences with Arnold in the past, she maintained agency in the act, because she was doing it for herself. Now, she is pushed into the act, not only by her own addiction, but also by Harry, who implicitly condones it due to the demands of his addiction as well.

“It was the strang­est night and the strang­est scene the city had ever seen. The cap­tain of the pre­cinct had been ad­vised days in ad­vance of what area was to be used and that eve­ry­thing in that area was to be ab­so­lute­ly con­trolled and calm. It was like walk­ing through the bat­tle­field of a rag­ing en­gage­ment and sud­den­ly turn­ing the cor­ner and find­ing your­self in a de­mil­i­ta­rized zone. The streets were emp­ty. There werent even any fires in the aban­doned build­ings. Not even a bum in a hall­way or un­der a mat­tress. The emp­ti­ness con­tin­ued for five blocks in each di­rec­tion from the ap­point­ed area. There were no prowl cars with­in the area, but they pa­trolled the bor­der. The only points of en­try were through one of the var­i­ous check points where guards with Thomp­sons and walkie talk­ies checked everybody out be­fore let­ting them pass. All weap­ons had to be left be­hind.”

When a new supply of heroin hits the streets, the precautions the distributor takes to ensure order shows both the desperate situation of the addicts, many of whom would literally kill for a fix, and the influence the drug industry has over city officials. Law enforcement gives its tacit approval to the situation by staying out of it, indicating that NYPD is either on the take or unable to cope with the sheer amount of crime involved in the situation.

“[Dr. Harwood:] I have told you I dont care about that wom­an. Even if you are cor­rect in your di­ag­no­sis and as­sump­tions, the worst that can hap­pen is that she will have a few un­nec­es­sary shock treat­ments. [Dr. Spencer:] The worst— Dr. Harwood was star­ing hard at Dr. Spen­cer and lean­ing clos­er to him, [Dr. Harwood:] Thats right. The worst. Where­as even if youre right and I go along with you it will cause so much dis­rup­tion in the staff and the calm and ef­fi­cient functioning of this de­part­ment that far more will be lost than a few months time out of the life of one wom­an.”

This interaction between Dr. Spencer and Dr. Harwood is the only scene in the novel in which one of the protagonists is not a direct participant. This emphasizes the fact that Sara’s fate is now completely out of her control, in the hands of a corrupt public health system that, like Dr. Harwood, prioritizes smooth functioning over patients’ actual needs.

“[Harry:] Why, you have some­thing in mind? Mar­i­on con­tin­ued to look at her cup and toy with her cig­a­rette, [Marion:] I/d like to have more than just a days stuff Har­ry, I cant make it like this…Sup­pose what he has doesnt last long???? Har­ry shrugged, try­ing to ig­nore the ac­tion in his gut, but even the dope wouldnt al­low him to ig­nore it, but it did al­low him to be­lieve what­ev­er he had to be­lieve. He wanted to say some­thing, but couldnt find the means to put the words to­geth­er even if he could find the words. He just con­tin­ued to go along with what was happen­ing, go with the flow as Mar­i­on would say. With whats hap­pen­ing he could be no where an­y­time too. Mar­i­on rubbed her cig­a­rette around in the ash­tray, clean­ing off the bot­tom with her butt and push­ing the ash­es to the side, [Marion:] May­be we should look into it right away. Har­ry took an­oth­er drag on his cig­a­rette and shrugged, [Harry:] If you want to. She con­tin­ued with the butt in the ash­tray, nod­ded her head and mur­mured. [Marion:] Yes. A lit­tle voice in­side Har­ry said, Thank krist.”

Marion no longer feels secure without any heroin in her apartment, and, because the streets are too dangerous, she cannot even be proactive in searching for a score like Harry. Big Tim appears to be the only reliable dealer in town, and he will only sell in exchange for sex. The fact that Marion is open to exploring this offer and that Harry is not only unresisting, but relieved, shows how their love has faded in the face of their addiction. Marion continues to compromise her own moral limitations, which is becoming increasingly difficult for her to cope with.

“Har­ry? Yeah? Do we have to tell Ty­rone about these bags? He looked at her, a voice in­side say­ing, fuck no. Me and him are tight. He set the whole thing up. I know, I know, Mar­i­on looked up into Har­rys eyes, but Im the one who went up there. Har­ry could feel the burn­ing flush seep­ing out from his in­ner be­ing some­where and was hop­ing to krist he didnt turn red. He nod­ded his head, Okay. I guess what he dont know wont killim.”

Harry and Tyrone have been partners for a long time, and neither has ever held back from the other. However, the crisis on the streets pushes Harry, Marion, and Tyrone to be secretive, each holding out a bit of their scores from the other, hiding what they would have once shared—a sure sign of their desperation and of the degradation of their friendship.

“They tried to numb their minds with the up­pers and her­o­in, but still the desper­ate­ness of the sit­u­a­tion forced it­self upon them. Sep­a­rate­ly they each felt in­creas­ing­ly aware of the fact that what they were do­ing was in­sane. They were half a world away from the neigh­bor­hood. They were strung out, a fact that they pus­sy foot­ed around for a long time, but now it thrust it­self right in their guts. They were strung out and they were driv­ing through some asshole fuckin state try­ing to get to Mi­ami and find the big con­nec­tions. They could smell them. They knew they were fol­low­ing the con­nec­tions. But what the fuck were they go­ing to do when they got there? What the fuck was goin on?”

Miami represents Harry and Tyrone’s best chance at scoring a significant amount of heroin; however, they make this assumption based on rumors. Neither has ever been far away from their neighborhood, meaning they have no contacts and no safeguards. As they approach Miami, Harry and Tyrone feel out of their depth and exposed. Again, they did not consider the greater context of their actions.

“It wasnt only what she had done that was dis­turb­ing her, but the ease with which she had done it. And when she got her share of the piece she knew it was all worth it. When she got home she got off and any dis­qui­et­ing feel­ings were imme­di­ate­ly dis­solved by the her­o­in and she didnt even both­er bath­ing, that could wait un­til morn­ing. She just stretched out on her couch, in front of her tel­e­vi­sion, ig­nor­ing the smell from her body and lips, think­ing over and over that Big Tim was right, this is good stuff. That taste will last a long time. She smiled to her­self. And theres more where that came from, and no one to share it with. I can al­ways have as much as I want. She hugged her­self and smiled, I can al­ways feel like this.”

Marion has never felt as if she has a solid identity; initially, her relationship with Harry seemed like it was on track to help her figure out who she really is for herself. However, her addiction to heroin causes her to lose herself completely, giving up on any dreams that she and Harry built, to chase a false sense of security that getting high and stockpiling heroin brings her. She is easily able to justify and compartmentalize the increasingly degrading sexual acts she must perform to get her fix.

“Sara shuffled along the med­i­ca­tion line with the oth­ers. She stood still for a mo­ment, then shuffled for­ward a lit­tle, stood still for an­oth­er mo­ment, then shuffled for­ward again un­til she stood in front of the at­tend­ant who put the Tho­ra­zine in her mouth and watched her swal­low it be­fore let­ting her leave. She stood in the corner, her arms wrapped around her, watch­ing the oth­ers shuf­fle up and get their tran­quil­iz­ers. Then the area was cleared. Emp­ty. She con­tin­ued to stare in front of her, then slow­ly turned her head and looked in var­i­ous di­rec­tions, then she, too, left. She kept her arms wrapped around her­self as she shuffled, in her pa­per slippers, into the tel­e­vi­sion room. Some of the oth­ers were sit­ting with their chin on their chest, al­ready feel­ing the ef­fects of the med­i­ca­tion. Some were laugh­ing, some were cry­ing. Sara stared at the screen.”

Sara is left tranquilized on Thorazine and other drugs, unable to adequately communicate her needs to her doctors and nurses, even if they wanted to listen to her. In a way, Sara has come full circle, left alone, staring at a TV, but even more isolated than ever.

“Har­ry was un­con­scious when they wheeled him into the operating room. They am­pu­tat­ed his arm at the shoul­der and im­me­di­ate­ly started anti-in­fec­tion ther­a­py in an at­tempt to save his life. He was be­ing fed in­tra­ve­nous­ly in his right arm and both an­kles and was strapped to the bed so the nee­dles wouldnt rip his veins if he started to con­vulse. A tube was in his nose so a steady sup­ply of oxygen could be fed to his lungs. There were two drains in his side con­nect­ed to a small pump un­der the bed in an ef­fort to pump the poi­son­ous flu­id from his body. From time to time Har­ry stirred and groaned as he struggled to free him­self from the claws of a night­mare and the nurse sit­ting by his side wiped his head with a cool, damp cloth, and spoke to him sooth­ing­ly, and Har­ry would calm and once more be mo­tion­less, seem­ing al­most to be dead, as he was ab­sorbed by a dream and a feel­ing of weight­less­ness…then light sur­rounded him, light so com­plete and in­tense he ex­pe­ri­enced it in eve­ry part of his be­ing, mak­ing him feel like he had nev­er felt in his life, like he was some­thing spe­cial, some­thing re­al­ly spe­cial. Har­ry felt the light/s warmth and he smiled so wide­ly that he al­most laughed as he felt joy flow­ing through his en­tire be­ing.”

Harry loses his arm to infection after injecting over and over into a single vein on his arm and contracting gangrene. The imagery and his dreams as he fights for his life after the operation suggests that he has a near death experience, nearly succumbing to the infection spreading through his body. At the end of the novel, Harry is left in an uncertain condition, recovering from a major operation, yet still facing jail time.