Meg and I spent all this time trying to coordinate a phone call so we could talk about The Paris Wife. Why? Because this book is haunting. It's well researched, well written, and so damn disturbing that I cannot seem to stop thinking about it. A woman whose taste in books I trust implicitly said, "When I read it I had to keep telling myself it was fiction--it got that real to me. I had just seen Midnight in Paris so I had that back story. Do all talented (powerful) men have weak characters? Am I glad we're not talented, rich and therefore corrupt? Things to ponder...." Throw in the relationship factor that Meg and I could not fully understand - how do you stay in a marriage like that? How do you justify to yourself that someone loves you when they are sleeping with someone else and then coming to your room asking for your body and your heart and everything that you are?
There are many quotes that I could have pulled from this book to reference, but here are few that I keep coming back to.
It is not what France gave you but what it did not take from you that was important.
~Gertrude Stein (the Ms. Stein - not the character)
There's no one thing that's true. It's all true.
~Ernest Hemingway (the Hemingway - also not the character)
"It was the end of Ernest's struggle...He would never again be unknown. We would never again be this happy." (195)
~Hadley
"What's wrong with all of us? Can you tell me that?"
"Hell if I know," he said. "We drink too much for starters. And we want too much, don't we?" (216)
~Hadley & Bill
"She chatters on about Chanel too much, but she's smart about books. She knows what she likes, and more than that, she knows why." (232) [Let's be honest - I just liked this one because it articulated something I hadn't been able to put words to before.]
~Ernest
"Drink this," he said, filling the tumbler and passing it across the table. "You could use it."
"Yes, let's get stinking drunk."
"All right. We've always been good at that." (261) [This alone is insignificant, but it's the end of a conversation between Ernest and Hadley. This is their way of coping with an impossible situation, an impossible conversation about the state of their marriage - the third party that is creeping into every sacred space Hadley clings to and worse, everyone the Hemingways know knows about what's happening.]
"It also didn't surprise me that he was feeling sorry for himself. There are men who love to be alone, but Ernest was not one of them. Solitude made him drink too much and drinking kept him from sleeping, and not sleeping brought the bad voices and bad thoughts up from their depths, and then he drank more to try and silence them." (264)
~Hadley
"And even if he didn't admit it to me, I knew he was suffering because he'd hurt me badly with the affair. Knowing he was suffering pained me. That's the way love tangles you up. I couldn't stop loving him, and couldn't shut off the feelings of wanting to care for him--but I also didn't have to run to answer his letters. I was hurting, too, and no one was running to me." (264)
~Hadley
"He wanted them both, but there was no having everything, and love couldn't help him now. Nothing could help him but bravery, and what was that anyhow? Was it reaching for the gun or sitting with the pain and shaking and the terrible fear?" (277)
"Even if I didn't want to live this way anymore, I also didn't want to die." (285)
"You've changed me more than you know, and will always be a part of everything I am. That's one thing I've learned from this. No one you love is ever truly lost." (307)
~Ernest
That's more than a few I guess, but like I said, I'm so caught up in the disfunctionality, the random glimpses of beauty, passion, and brilliance, and the voice of one of America's most prolific writers. I know, I know - I'm a nerd to the core and it's only because I have something I want to look up that I am stopping now.
As always, happy reading!
--Jac
I have now had the book finished for a week or so and I find myself thinking of it often. I think the word "haunting" describes it well. And whoever you quoted put their finger on some of the thoughts that I have running through my head. Are all amazingly talented men justified in their affairs and their drinking BECAUSE they need it to stimulate their thinking? I mean, just the fact that Ernest was truly stumped writing and then his affair suddenly sparked some chord and he could write again. Does that justify it? My upbringing wants to scream "No!" but if it meant no Ernest Hemingway, or no Chopin, then I don't know.
ReplyDeleteOn a side note, Hadley was quite inspiring to me. I obviously wouldn't put up with the extent of what she did in regards to their marital relationship, but I found myself comparing their time in Paris to our time in grad school. While Justin isn't going to be Hemingway by any means, this is kind of our "Paris" time. He's trying to carve out a niche for himself. And we're poor. Ha ha. And I have young kids. (And Hadley played the piano!) Hadley's drive was Ernest's work. It was her work too. And she joyed and sorrowed in it as much as he did. I definitely think I have room for improvement.
I love what you said Anna. You brought up two great points....
ReplyDeleteWithout the boozing and the intense passion, we would have no Fitzgerald. Without their mistresses, Picasso and Rodin wouldn't have had their respective muses. Shakespeare...etc, etc. Do completely honorable men produce brilliant work? You'd have to answer yes, and yet is it as brilliant? Supposedly Mark Twain, who is considered by Hemingway to be the father of all American Literature, loved his wife and his little family. There's one....
And as for your Paris in Riverside - I love this idea. You're a good woman Anna Jane. Someday with Justin is Dr. White, this time in family housing in a house with no disposal will be a set of memories that shaped everything afterward.
Love you so much!!
So in further discussion with Justin, I have a few other ideas. He was talking about the 10,000 hour rule (I know Malcolm Gladwell talks about it in Outliers-where you have to have about 10,000 hours of intense practice in something to really become "an expert") and how maybe if you really are putting that much time into something, it really would be impossible to have a relationship that requires work.
ReplyDeleteIt's easy to have an affair with the pretty young thing down the street...it's a lot harder to do the day in and day out husband/father stuff that is required to make lasting relationships. So if you're putting that as a priority, then maybe you won't ever become the "expert" that some of these men are. (Or maybe you'll just be like 60, instead of 23 before it happens!)
I don't know that I have any conclusions to draw, really. Just that I guess it's just about where your priorities are. And accepting that maybe you can't have both. At least not while you're young. Just some thoughts...
It's interesting, because sometimes I feel like our "upbringing," as you say, makes us think we DO have to be a genius in something. I mean, isn't that what God wants for us? And don't we force piano lessons and dance lessons and soccer and swimming and tennis and AP classes in hopes that our children will be "special" or "living up to his potential"? Because if we don't make our mark in the world, then what kind of saint are we? Hemingway would have made a great Mormon, minus the drinking and adultery. :) Once again, not a conclusion, but a random tangent to add.
ReplyDeleteSo I'm new to the discussion and haven't read the book, but I think the question of excellence or genius is interesting. I think you're (Megan) right that we do have that mentality in our culture, but I think we send mixed messages. I mean, we're supposed to excel at some sort of field/area, develop our talents, and make our mark in the world...but we also get the idea that "no success can compensate for failure in the home." Now, I'm actually somewhat optimistic that we can excel at some of these pursuits while still maintaining some sort of balance. But I also think we're often pretty bad at finding that harmony, which makes me confident about my optimism.
ReplyDeleteSo if Hemingway would have made a great Mormon because of his literary genius, would we want to say that all people who excel in their field would make a great Mormon? Part of me thinks yes, but I'm not so sure. I should go to bed, but I'd love to hear what you all have to say.
I keep thinking about this "conversation" though it's taken me forever to reply. I've been musing over Meg's commentary about the need to excel. I've reached personal conclusions over the past year that excellence has little to with whether we are well known. We recognize the genius in Hemingway because he's sold millions of copies of his work...so he's a genius to lots of people...which yes, amplifies his genius, but doesn't necessarily give him and other well-known individuals a corner on excellence. Excellence can be profoundly simple - both on the home front as Justin mentioned and in a national/international forum. We need more people to realize that excellence is more relative than we care to admit.
ReplyDeleteAs for Hemingway and Mormonism - I think is obsession with truth led him away from truth. He wouldn't have been able to relinquish control and just trust.
...I seriously wish we were all in the same place so we could talk this out for hours....