Until I finished rereading Excellent Women this past week, my records indicated that I had only read the novel once before. I find that a little hard to believe. I thought for sure that I had read it at least twice. Worse than my memory failing is the possibility that I haven’t kept up my records diligently. No matter, it was an absolute delight to read it again. I wish I had the ability to explain why I find Pym’s novels so delightful. They immediately transport me into a world I think I want to be a part of. I suspect I would probably find the Pym universe stultifyingly proper and far too suppressed for my personality. I think I appreciate the quiet simplicity. And they are such a joy to read. (Pity that Pym was a pre-war Nazi, but we’ll save the “love the art, hate the artist” discussion for another time.)
As I reread Excellent Women, I began to think of my own spinsterhood. I’m not sure if spinsters can be widows/widowers, and some women who have reclaimed the word may not appreciate it being appropriated by a man, but I’m afraid everyone is just going to have to accept (or ignore) my framing. Truth be told, I felt like a spinster-in-training at the age of 33 when I met John. Not having had a relationship for over eight years at that point, I thought I was bound to be an Anita Brookner character. On its face, John saved me from that fate, but then again more than a few of Brookner’s characters had been married and then found themselves alone at a time of life when personal worlds tend to diminish in scope and vitality. So I find myself approaching 55, alone, feeling fairly directionless, and beginning to worry that my tendency to introversion might skew toward depression and loneliness.
Besides Pym’s work being much lighter and more humorous in tone, the big difference between a Pym spinster and a Brookner spinster is that Pym’s characters have a degree of agency and, for the most part, appear to be fairly happy with their lives and prospects. In fact, I found myself inspired by Mildred Lathbury. As I sit here, I can’t think why, I think she puts up with too much bullshit from others, but I think what I appreciated were those qualities that make Mildred an excellent woman. Since John died the only things that have provided any structure in my life are my job and Lucy. And now with Lucy gone, I find that it is just work. One day it was 8:00 PM and I had only gotten in 414 steps and my house alarm hadn’t even been turned off that day.
I think found myself drawn to Mildred’s tidy routines. I don’t think I would appreciate all the little external obligations and expectations that Mildred puts up with, but I do feel like I could benefit from finding a few self-imposed obligations. I want to live a tidier, more deliberate life that trends toward a simple meal of bread, Camembert, and salad rather than a $60 DoorDash meal that has more fat and sodium than one should eat in a week. I think what I’m trying to say is that I am tired of being lazy. (Fixing that is easier said than done.)
Another aspect of Mildred’s life I can identify with is how often people consider her a non-entity. It’s kind of disturbing how I’ve become invisible to so many people since John died. It manifests itself in a couple of ways. First, there are very loving and supportive people who are fading out of my daily/weekly/monthly life as I time moves on. As their lives and grief over the loss of John have rightfully moved forward, they are returning to a type of relationship with me that is largely the same as what it was before he died. When John was alive it was enough, now that I don’t have him, it isn’t enough. It isn’t their fault, it’s just the way things go. Next month it will be two years, and I miss the frequency and intensity with which people checked in with me in the months after his death. It was even the case that the 21st century phobia of unscheduled phone calls was cast aside by nearly everyone I know, but now I feel silly calling people just to chat. It’s too high an emotional hill to climb to let people know that I still need their support.
The other aspect of this invisibility, and the one that is regularly imposed on Mildred, is that people seem to think that we have no standing and can be imposed upon. That our lives are fair game for discussion and interference. Being a very opinionated, non-shy person who has no problem telling people to get the fuck out of my face, I’ve been kind of surprised to see this creep into my life. This has only happened to me to a small degree, no doubt because of the ease with which I will clap back, but it happens nonetheless. On Easter Sunday I was in my family room ironing in front of the TV. It was a fairly warmish day so I had the French doors open, got a bit warm and took my pants off, leaving me in my underwear and a t-shirt. After about an hour I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my nextdoor neighbor was in my backyard seemingly giving another neighbor a tour. Now just to be clear, my backyard is enclosed with a seven-foot high fence and is accessible only through a latched gate that is sheltered in my side yard and is about five feet tall itself. When I confronted her (in my underwear), she said “Oh I thought you weren’t at home” as if that somehow made up for the trespass. Much to my credit I didn’t raise my voice or swear as I am prone to do, but I did make it abundantly clear that she was not welcome. This is the same woman who decided last summer that the existence of a mustache on my face made me fair game for grooming advice. I bit my tongue at the time, but all I could think was I don’t make comments about her overprocessed hair so why does she think she gets to comment on my appearance. And don’t get me started about the time she talked to me about how she always hears John’s voice and then went on to talk about John’s afterlife. Since I am off on a tangent, let me just offer some advice to the entire planet. For the most part, you shouldn’t worry about saying the wrong thing when someone dies, but keep it simple and don’t go deep. Trite phrases are nice to hear, certainly they are better than nothing. However, steer clear of anything that imposes your belief system on the other person unless you are one hundred percent sure they share your point of view. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to rise above my grief to humor someone’s superstitions.
But where was I? Oh yes. Mildred. I know that I am not an excellent woman because they are the ones that selflessly give of themselves for people who entirely take advantage of them. Although Mildred is aware of this, she doesn’t seem to want to upset that particular apple cart. Not only would I upset that apple cart, I would smash it to bits and whack people upside the head with the pieces. Two years out from John’s death, I have a hard time imagining being in another relationship. I think I need more friends, but John was such a soulmate that I can’t imagine that ever being replaced. As a result of that, like Mildred, I am happy with my independence, and thankfully appear to be getting closer to sharing her optimism for the future.
Reading Pym
I’ve been in the mood for Pym lately and thought I would reread the novels that I had read the least. I was a bit surprised with my Pym stats. Based on this list you would think my favorite Pym is A Glass of Blessing, but honestly, I think I’ve read it that many times simply because I have a mass market copy of it that travels well, and I seem to want to read Pym when I travel.
4 – A Glass of Blessing 1958 (2002/2012/2013/2022)
3 – Crampton Hodnet 1985 (2002/2013/2022)
2 – Some Tame Gazelle 1950 (2009/2019)
2 – Excellent Women 1952 (2010/2024)
2 – Jane and Prudence 1953 (2004/2013)
2 – No Fond Return of Love 1961 (2013/2020)
2 – Quartet in Autumn 1977 (2014/2023)
2 – The Sweet Dove Died 1978 (2012/2023)
2 – A Few Green Leaves 1980 (2016/2022)
2 – An Unsuitable Attachment 1982 (2013/2022)
2 – An Academic Question 1986 (2016/2022)
1 – Less Than Angels 1955 (2014)
While I was on Goodread checking my stats, I noticed the stats for how many ratings there were for each Pym novel. My ranking wouldn’t be exactly like this, but An Academic Question is indeed my least favorite.
17,610 – Excellent Women
5,270 – Jane and Prudence
5,175 – Quartet in Autumn
3,827 – Some Tame Gazelle
3,046 – A Glass of Blessing
2,996 – Less Than Angels
2,948 – No Fond Return of Love
2,750 – Crampton Hodnet
2,151 – An Unsuitable Attachment
1,779 – The Sweet Dove Died
1,531 – A Few Green Leaves
1,271 – An Academic Question