I started out, as the reader, just a bit worried. I was afraid we were in Gretel Ehrlich terrain, where the writing would be beautiful, full of astonishing metaphor, but would skirt the central issue. As in Erhlich's A Match to the Heart, where she goes on and on about what the book is ostensibly about, getting struck by lightning, while making cursory references to her divorce, and all along we are screaming at her: WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR MARRIAGE???
And while we may not discover all the gory details about what happened to de Gutes's marriage, we can see that this is in fact a confrontation of the failure of a marriage, which in turn is the confrontation of the development of a self, and of how that self entered into a relationship while it was still developing, and gradually, developed into someone who couldn't stay in that relationship no matter how much that realization hurt. And how much of a surprise that discovery was.
It's also about being queer and butch and learning to embrace that. By the way.
Though it could be about being driven and type A and brilliant and finding yourself in a relationship what didn't support that. (I've been reading about Edith Wharton simultaneously.) But more of us already know about that. So the butch part is inherently more interesting, at least right now.
Some of the pieces are long and reflective. Others are short. Lists. In one, "Things You Shouldn't Touch": "Your mother's hair, back-combed and sprayed perfectly into place, even though nothing else is perfect."
In another short piece, her father kills a starling. Her mother makes him tell de Gutes why. It's because he had already shot the mate. The surviving spouse was just sitting on the nest, waiting and waiting. He had to put it out of its misery, knowing as he did that the missing bird would never come home. "Do you see what he's like?" her mother asks.
That essay had started with a reflection on the author's youth, and on how, before the age of 16, it's hard to even contemplate the idea of parents not being right for one another, and then suddenly one day you wonder, Why doesn't she leave him--doesn't she see what he's like?
In one of the most painful pieces, her father calls to say that her mother has had a heart attack and is being taken to the hospital by ambulance. De Gutes says she'll meet him there. Oh, I'm not going, her father says. They'll just have a look at her blockages. Instead, of course, they embark on emergency surgery. Her father does show up for 3 of the 9 hours of surgery, but mostly de Gutes sits there alone. He is not there when her mother awakes. Through the vigil, the nurses are curious as to why this married woman's husband is not present. De Gutes realizes that "The simplest answer was the most stunning. He was here, but he left."
In another essay, de Gutes remembers going shopping with her mother for back to school dresses. De Gutes creeps off to the men's department at Nordstrom. "And dear God, I look awful in [the clothes her mother selects], like I just escaped from some Amish or Mennonite mental hospital, which is why I am downstairs lingering by the men's shirts. I _fit_ into a men's XL. ... So I am standing here alone feeling fat and unattractive and when I look up from the dress shirt with the button-down collar and French cuffs, I see an elegant femme with long strawberry blonde hair. She is wearing a tight, wool, navy-blue skirt with a kick pleat, a cream-colored blouse (silk, I'm sure) and a choker of pearls. She is tall and the blue spectator pumps she is wearing make her even more so. On her arm is the butchest woman I have ever seen. She is equally tall and wearing expensive clothes: wool gabardines trousers, riding boots,...and a perfectly pressed man's shirt. As they walk by me, the butch reaches over and pats the femme right on her beautifully rounded backside and follows its line which is so apparent against the tight wool. I have not yet seen lesbians of this ilk... nor have I yet seen such an openly gay public display of affection. This femme looks over her shoulder at me, sees all this on my face, and lets go a delicious peal of laughter."
I'm sure that was an inspiring moment in many ways, and I don't know how much permission it gave to de Gutes's sense of humor, but that humor comes through on almost every page, delightful and wry and the same time.