"Cheer up! Death is round the corner." - Julian Barnes
The quotation pretty much sums up "The Lemon Table" both in its content and tone. Published in 2004, it is a collection of eleven stories on aging and dying. Julian Barnes allegedly once wrote "I am a writer for...one presiding major reason: because I believe that the best art tells the most truth about life." This belief finds expression in "The Lemon Table". Because the truth is bitter, the stories are very hard to read.
Yet Barnes is a master of his craft. The difficult subject matter is rendered palatable by his wry sense of humor. The stories are by turn cruel, scornful, and at times funny. Realism is served with teaspoons of wit, thus some stories go down really well with me.
The stories are about loss and regret that come with aging. The characters are confronted with the loss of health, sanity, virility, independence, and control. In "Knowing French", the 81-year-old ward of an old folks’ home laments, "We disburse our lifetime's savings in order to hand over control of our lives." It is sobering to contemplate a time in life when the fizz has gone out, “the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”, and one can no longer play as energetically as before (e.g., "Hygiene").
Worse than this is the renunciation of the things that give life its sparkle. This is borne out painfully in "The Revival" that carries some of the saddest and grimmest observations of love. A 60-year-old writer (supposedly Turgenev) who has never succeeded in love falls in love with a 25-year-old actress. However, he believes that "..every love, happy as well as unhappy, is a real disaster when you give yourself over to it entirely." Therefore, his basis of life, perhaps owing to his past failures, is renunciation. He holds this last love at arms' length and nurtures it as a dream journey. I re-read this story closely and the second time round, I hear the author's voice. It is mocking, coarse, and even crude. It pokes fun at the old man's renunciation. But my sympathy lies with the old gentleman who has taken pains to avoid folly and to preserve a modicum of dignity.
In these stories, the dependency of the elderly is fleshed out clearly in several stories. In "The Things You Know", two elderly widows put up a pretense of mutual support because in old age as in childhood, "...you needed allies again, people to see you through to the end." The other thing that strikes me is how aging takes its toll gravely on the family members of the elderly. In “Appetite”, a long suffering wife reads cookbook recipes to her food-loving husband who has dementia and flinches each time he hurls vulgarities at her. In “The Fruit Cage", I feel sorry for the grown-up son who has to ride the domestic storm when his 80-year-old father leaves his mother for a woman in her 60s. This is a depressing story of children having to parent their parents.
However, there are gains that are exclusive privileges of getting older. In "A Short History of Hairdressing", Gregory who has always been socially awkward recognizes that "social apprehensions were now long gone. The small triumphs of maturity." In "The Silence", an elderly composer bemoaning the Eighth Symphony that is likely to remain unfinished reflects on his self-assured frame of mind: "When I was a young man, I was hurt by criticism. Now, when I am melancholy, I reread unpleasant words and am immensely cheered up. This is gain."
There are two stories I have particularly enjoyed: "Vigilance" and "Knowing French".
"Vigilance"
This is a hilarious story about a 62-year-old aficionado of classical music who is ultra-sensitive to concert goers misbehaving at a classical concert. He takes great offence when his attention to and enjoyment of the music is distracted by coughing fits or even mere turning of the concert program. His extreme measures to take offenders to task are shocking. But I understand perfectly the annoyance when a beautiful performance is ruined by inconsiderate behavior. I wish I had the guts to do what he did. Wickedly satisfying.
"Knowing French"
This is a collection of witty correspondence between Julian Barnes and a woman in her 80s (formerly a bluestocking) living in an Old Folks’ Home. She is making the most of her time in a home where fellow old folks are "either mad or deaf". There is an irrepressible cheekiness I find refreshing. I like the word she coins for immense letter-writing - epistolomania. "The deafs and mads here are constantly afraid of Being a Nuisance. The only way of making sure you are not Being a Nuisance is to be in your coffin, so I intend to go on Being A Nuisance as a way of keeping alive." I find myself laughing and feeling sad at the same time. Pathos is most powerfully expressed in humor.
“The Lemon Table” is not for everyone and not recommended when one is feeling sad and vulnerable. But it is a collection of stories worth reading at some point.
PS
The title of this collection of stories draws its symbolism from the lemon. The composer in "The Silence" explains that, for the Chinese, the lemon is the symbol of death, so that his local café table where he gathers with friends to discuss mortality becomes “the lemon table”. However, to the best of my knowledge, the lemon does not symbolize death in the Chinese culture. Nevertheless, as a title, “The Lemon Table” still encapsulates the communion of bitterness that can threaten to define the last phase of life.