Endgame: A Journal of the Seventy-Ninth Year

by May Sarton

"Sarton has been the lighthouse light for millions of women, and despite the dimming of that light, she remains [in this book] the Sarton who wrote Journal of a Solitude ."― Library Journal "I had always imagined a philosophical journal of my seventy-ninth year, dealing with the joys and problems, the doors opening out from old age to unknown efforts and surprises. I looked forward to the year as a potent harvest," May Sarton writes. Assailed by debilitating illnesses, Sarton found herself instead using much of her energy battling for health. Yet, as this record shows, she did after all do what she had wanted to, as she persevered in work, friendships, and love of nature, discovering in the process new landscapes in the country of old age.

Genres: Memoir, Biography, Nonfiction, Writing, Journal, Autobiography

348 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1992

About the author

May Sarton was born on May 3, 1912, in Wondelgem, Belgium, and grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Her first volume of poetry, Encounters in April, was published in 1937 and her first novel, The Single Hound, in 1938. An accomplished memoirist, Sarton boldly came out as a lesbian in her 1965 book Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing. Her later memoir, Journal of a Solitude, was an account of her experiences as a female artist. Sarton died in York, Maine, on July 16, 1995.

Reviews

[Syd · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ok, so I love May Sarton...so it's hard for me to review any of her books in a completely unbiased fashion. I sit down with one of her journals and I feel like I'm completely sucked into an overstuffed chair, probably in a floral pattern, served tea with honey and lemon, and then proceed to have one of the deepest and most stimulating conversations of my life. This book was painful in many ways to read, because her health is an issue throughout the book. She spends a lot of time in pain, exhausted, and unable to do things for herself. It's a lesson in how to accept help (am I listening???), how to appreciate a fresh cut flower, and how we should make the most of our time.

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

I’ve read several of May Sarton’s journals and one of her novels. All of the journals until this one were 4 out of 5 Goodread stars for me. This one was tougher to take. Sarton is 79, in poor health and, understandably, concerned about having insufficient energy to even walk across a room. However, at one point late in the journal when she says that she doesn’t think she has done a good job of telling readers just how very ill she is, I say out loud to the empty room, “Oh yes, you have, over and over again.” There’s enough in this journal to keep me reading the three other Sarton journals that are piled on my bedside table, but I really hope she’s feeling better in them. There’s only so much I can take of Sarton constantly bursting into tears because of her frailty and vulnerability.

[Barbara · Rating 3 out of 5]

May Sarton's journal, mostly dictated in short bursts during a year of nearly constant pain and illness. The themes of aging and the glimpses of her famous friends make it worth reading, though it is sometimes hard to deal with the complaining.

[NancyL Luckey · Rating 5 out of 5]

May's Journal

Well written even if you don't like poetry. I felt the author was conceited and entitled, and why in the world did a sick old lady live on the third floor!

[Mary Kurey]

I have to agree that she was a brilliant poet and novelist. I understand how ill and depressed she was, but I found myself wondering how many people that are as sick as her, or alone, without the money and well to do friends that help her so often, would be able to understand or sympathize with her.

[Trisha · Rating 3 out of 5]

Having read many of May Sarton’s journals, I expected to find this one just as enjoyable, especially since I started reading it in my own 79th year. I thought it would be interesting to move into this period of my life right along with another journal keeper. But I soon discovered that my feelings about becoming an old woman are quite a bit different from Sarton’s, and I quickly lost patience with her tendency to complain at great length about her struggles with aging.

She began this journal on the morning of her 79th birthday by writing, “It’s hard to believe I am still around to be glad the sun is out at last and the daffodils crowding the wood’s edge with abundant grace, all things moving toward opening and flowering after the imprisoning winter we have somehow survived.” And then she went on to say that even writing those few lines was an effort. Unfortunately, that turned out to be one of the main themes of the book and it shows up frequently in her account of the joys and the sorrows she encountered during year leading up to her 79th birthday.

To be fair, it was a difficult year for her because for much of it she was struggling with a variety of illnesses, including depression, heart trouble, fluid in her lungs, and a series of digestive problems that sound very much like irritable bowel syndrome. (Something I can relate to!) And while I sympathize with her because it’s clear she was really suffering and frequently in pain, I got a little tired hearing her complain and whine about how miserable she felt. It also irritated me that she took it for granted that she would be taken care of by the many people who somehow were always there to attend to whatever needed to be done. Some of them were people she had hired to take care of various tasks but others were friends whose visits, phone calls and letters she depended upon.

May Sarton was obviously an extrovert who needed to surround herself with people who came to visit – and often stay for a few days - in her lovely home above the sea in York, Maine. Throughout her life she had acquired a large circle of friends, quite a few of whom had died. Those who were still alive lived all over the world and she frequently wrote about them with great affection.

As in her other journals, she described the changing seasons with a poet’s eye and wrote enthusiastically about the foods she was enjoying “We had a wonderful supper of swordfish, which I’m not specifically allowed but I had only a small piece, and rice with chives from the garden, cauliflower with lots of butter and parsley on it, and baked apples for dessert. It was truly a feast.” She also wrote about her delight in her gardens - although it was hard for her to have to depend upon others to do the work she could no longer do for herself. And true to her vocation as a writer and poet, this journal contained numerous references to the books she was reading, as well as poetry –including her own.

But it was clear May Sarton’s 79th year was not a good one and she didn’t hesitate letting her readers know just how difficult it was for her. As she reached the end of her journal she wrote that it had been a year of learning to be dependent, something all of us must learn how to do as we turn into old women. Unfortunately for May Sarton, it seems to have been a particularly difficult lesson to learn.

[Lbsantini · Rating 5 out of 5]

The journal ends with this poem by Haniel Long

May Your Dreams Be of the Angels

The old men who lived two centuries since
In the great houses of New Mexico, aspiring
In the New World to the courtesies of the Old,
Would say to a guest at bed-time, I am told,
Smiling, yet meaning, it, "May your dreams be of the
angels."

These are the words they said in the patio,
Under the great apricot grown from a Spanish stone,
And full of moonlight or of distant lightnings.
The guest would enter his chamber;
Lying abed, looking through the wide low door
Where he could see the apricot better, its branches
Thrown wide, receptacle of heaven and fire,
He might compare it to those highway trees
Which cast so little shade, yet rise so high;
And might debate two different kinds of living--
The tree of a life that soars forever higher,
And the tree of a life that stretches forever wider;
The life that cleaves its way, the life that waits
Like a bowl, like a vase. And who then or who now
Knows whether knowledge and peace are to be striven
toward.
Or a place prepared by us for them to come to?

With Navajo marauding, and the drought lurking,
and slaves and peons restless and resentful,
It was a good question to go to sleep with
For the Spaniard facing the terror of his New World;
As it still is for you or for me tonight,
Sleepless between our future and our past,
Sleepless between our furies and our demons.

Whichever is your answer, may your dreams,
Whoever you are, be of them, of the angels.
In these human hells we go through, it is sure
We are not alone; there are witnesses to it.
Our helplessness is but a receptacle, 'twill catch good ghosts.

[Nicola Pierce · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just love Sarton's memoirs - I cannot find fault with them. This is the third one I've read and although she is pretty much consumed by her old age and ill health, I still found it a compelling read. Midway through it, I ordered Plant Dreaming Deep and then I proceeded to read Endgame as slowly as possible so that PDD might be mine by the time I finished it. And, Reader, it was!

[Loretta · Rating 4 out of 5]

A moving account of a year nearing the end of his prolific author’s life. Her narrative powers are diminished, but the joy she experiences in her garden, visits with friends and reflections on life balance her sad realization that she is now dependent on others.

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

What I like most about this book is that it helped me understand the limitations of medicine and how that compares to my own experiences. I also liked the author’s comments on books she had read and the marvelous independent cat Pierrot.

[Colleen Preston · Rating 4 out of 5]

Another journal from May Sarton that, of course, strikes home for me these days. As always, she is whiny, perceptive, self-absorbed, poetic, fun, and crotchety. Her obsessions with gardening, flowers, books and cats always strike a receptive nerve with me. I wish she still had a dog, though.

[Marie · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Sarton's journals is listening to the wisdom of a life lives well and full of grace.

[Nancy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Pierrot surely leads a special life in this journal....

[Jayne Yenko · Rating 4 out of 5]

excellent - very insightful

[John · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have to admire May for keeping going, although her health issues have become the focus of events by this time.

[Auntie · Rating 4 out of 5]

reminded me of my mother in her last few years, never feeling good but afraid to complain. Will read more of May's work.

[Phyllis]

Having just spent a week with my 81 year old mother, I need and want to read this pronto!

[Mary Narkiewicz · Rating 3 out of 5]

she's so brave ..writing about being old, and the aging process.