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Monday, April 7, 2014

Almost A Keeper, Darlings! With Some Fascinating Undercurrents!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


                               In Helen Hoover Satmyer's novel of over 30 years ago, "And Ladies Of The Club," two of the most fascinating characters were minor characters of veiled sexuality.  I say veiled, because nothing is stated outright, but the truth is as clear as can be for anyone who has lived long enough on this planet.

                                The first character is John Gordon's sister, Kate.  A tomboy in youth, she is a spinster, who lives on the outskirts of town, independently, almost as a farmer. She has a habit of  taking in and helping, wayward, itinerant, young girls.  Once they are nursed back to health, they move on, and Kate is inconsolably depressed--until the next one shows up.  She is hoping for a companion, you see, and if you are thinking that means lesbian, you are right. Eventually, there comes a point, a very poignant one, in the novel, where Kate cannot take it anymore. When John does not hear from her, for a time, he goes out to the farm, and finds her hanging from a rafter in the barn. There is a note, poignantly written that says not to be sad for him, that she believes that in Heaven one is the age one was happiest on Earth. And so she will be twelve, when, she says, "it was still good to be Kate Gordon."

                                 Later in this novel, we meet Ariana McCune, a young girl who has a crush on a boy in the town, last named Mercer.  One evening, her mother walks into her room, and finds the daughter doing something that shames them both; so much so, Ariana runs away.  Miss Santmyer does not spell it out, but  it is fairly clear the mother caught her daughter masturbating.  But the actual words are never spoken.

                                   Something of the same takes place in Richard Russo's beautifully written "Bridge Of Sighs."   He starts by contrasting the friendship of Louis C. Lynch, Jr, aka Lucy, with the tougher, more extroverted, and troubled, Bobby Marconi.  The dynamic between the two is hero worship, and Lou's emotional dependency on Bobby, which continues into adulthood, even when Bobby flees town, and ends up in Venice, as artist Robert Noonan, had me wondering if there was more than feelings of friendship at stake here.  Lou is crushed every time Bobby does not have the courtesy to show him the friendship he so ardently craves.  One would think Lou would have compassion if the  situation were reversed, but Russo presents such a situation that shows Lou at his worst, and ends tragically.

                                     Lou befriends a boy named David Entelman. What is portrayed is that David is the needier of the two boys--and more so.  Their friendship is fine, until David makes the mistake of spontaneously kissing Lou on the mouth, whereupon he turns on David, saying he never wants to be friends anymore.  The next day, David's father finds David's body hanging in the barn, with a note stating his feelings for Lou.  Nothing is explored more beyond Lou, Sr. shouting to the bereaved father, "My Louie is not that way!"

                                      At that point, I liked both Lou's, and their lives, a lot less.  But I had to give Russo some credit.  I have never accused him of homophobia, but I have never read anything suggestive of homosexuality in his work--until now.  A daring step, and while I hate the outcome, and wanted to know more of the back story on David, the way things happen seem right for the novel, the characters, and time things take place. It does not mean I have to agree with it, but it does seem right.

                                        The Lynches are an unusual clan, the men taciturn and complacent, the women dominant and more forward thinking.  And this perpetuates itself down through the generations.  Unlike "And Ladies Of The Club," Russo's novel does not follow a linear pattern, but seems to go back and forth in time.

                                           His skill at creating strong atmosphere and characters makes this, like his other works, compelling, even if you do not agree with how the lives portrayed are lived.

                                           But Lou's treatment of David, and its result, will haunt me.  I wonder why Russo included it?

                                     

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