Helena's old boy with the toy donkey & the ghetto blaster sounds to me more like a schizophrenic than a deaf mute. All the same, he presents a droll & refreshingly anarchic figure cocking a snook at the established powers. We laugh approvingly & identify with his small defiance. At the same time, I suspect the chap himself suffers greatly - probably locked in the peculiar isolation of the psychotic. One of the nasty charms of working in psychiatry is the undeniable funniness of many of the patients. For forty years I've laughed at the crazy ideas & the Joycean word plays of my own patients. And, incongruously, many of them have laughed along with me. Yet there's no denying they would give anything be other than the way they are. Is it possible to reconcile the sick awfulness of mental illness with the fact that it has irresistibly comic aspects ? Scottie B.