“The problem with being a wife is being a wife,” Carmela Ciuraru writes, and I silently wonder if I can get a tee shirt made with this sentence plastered all over it. Here’s how any person can tell the institution of marriage is a long way from being considered a fully equal partnership: no such corresponding book focused on husbands in any industry putting their careers on hold and fully catering to their wives’ needs exists as of this writing.
Lives of the Wives: Five Literary Marriages is an excellent book about severely lopsided marriages, as well as “how women have defined themselves through or in opposition to men, and […] reveals the toll of the creative process—not only on writers, but on their partners and children. This is a book about money and fame and how those elements can unite a couple when love does not. It’s about power and the negotiation of power.” I was hoping for a book full of juicy gossip, stories about men and women behaving badly, and thoughtful considerations on the many ways that literary spouses specifically are expected to be the uncredited supporting role within their own married life. This is EXACTLY the book that I wanted to read!
As I read Lives of the Wives, a very tight competition emerged within my mind among all of the individuals profiled, which I liked to call “Who’s the Biggest Jerk?” Although the race ultimately became something of a photo finish, here’s a small selection of the top contenders!
Writer and theater critic Kenneth Tynan excels at being a jerk on multiple fronts. Tynan displays an appalling array of abusive behavior, from subjecting his wife, writer Elaine Dundy, to humiliating beatings during sex, all the way to loudly resenting her professional success as an author: “Ken felt emasculated and betrayed. ‘You weren’t a writer when I married you!’ he yelled one night as he threw a copy of her book out the bedroom window.” Tynan receives an astounding amount of help from Dundy, as she makes sure the final draft of his drama critic column is submitted just before deadline each week, and even takes responsibility for “the nasty, threatening letter he had written to his editor in a fit of rage.” For all of her hard work propping up the career of a thoughtless husband, Dundy is rewarded with no such special treatment from Tynan in her own writing career: “Ken had not made the writing process easy for his wife. Whereas he had his study as a refuge for creative work, Elaine wrote each day ‘slowly and steadily’ on the living room sofa with a typewriter propped up on her knees. Her back hurt. She resisted the urge to drink, forcing herself to stay sober before sitting down to write. Discipline took a lot out of her.”
Novelist Kingsley Amis lives an “idyllic existence” as his second wife, novelist Elizabeth Jane Howard, is forced to take complete control of every aspect of their household: “She scheduled her husband’s medical appointments. She handled the household budget—he couldn’t be bothered, though their finances were in a precarious state—and served as his chauffeur. (Kingsley refused to drive and was afraid to travel on the Underground. He said that he cured himself of this fear by never riding the Tube again.)” Although Amis maintains a “steady and prodigious” output as a writer, Howard’s own writing output suffers due to her countless household obligations: “She was constantly, and understandably, exhausted and would often fall asleep, upright in a chair, after dinner.” After Howard finally has enough of the marriage and leaves, Amis is outrageously ungrateful for all of her past efforts and hard work: “As for Jane, he never forgave her, never spoke to her again, and told people that meeting her was the worst thing that ever happened to him.”
Sculptor and translator Una Troubridge, although not exactly in the same jerk league as Kenneth Tynan and Kingsley Amis, also deserves special mention as a particularly neglectful mother. Troubridge, whose relationship with author Radclyffe Hall is the only LGBT relationship featured out of the five couples profiled, has a young daughter nicknamed Cubby who only seems to exist as a baton to be handed off: “[…] Cubby was often left with friends, relatives, nannies, and neighbors, and at one point, Una even asked Dr. Crichton-Miller whether Cubby could live with his family. (He declined.)”
I love the use of parentheses by Carmela Ciuraru throughout this book! The author strikes gold again when later describing Hall and Troubridge’s foray into the world of dog breeding: “They were exceedingly good at it, setting up kennels and entering into competitions with their dachshunds, griffons, and more. (Una showed far more affection toward her dogs than she had ever given Cubby.)” I was fascinated with this book from start to finish, and highly recommend this book (which I happily rate as five-out-of-five-stars!) to other looky-loos and rubberneckers!