Wow! Mary Gaitskill's been nominated for a National Book Award for her novel, Veronica. Gaitskill's swift, lean, dark portraits are thrilling in their intensity and moments of recognition. And not the kind of recognition that has us going, "Oh, yeah, me too" in a smiling, happy cloud sort of reassuring way; rather, the kind that has us saying (wishing) "Not me!" and wanting to run and hide under the bed. Gaitskill, precisely because her themes are difficult and oftentimes unpleasant, because she shows the desperate (under)side of human nature, is not the kind of author one would necessarily expect to make the shortlist of a mainstream prize. But good on her! I love her books.
[Some may remember the film Secretary, starring Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader, which was based on Gaitskill's short story of the same name. I do not have time to go ON AND ON about that film and Gaitskill's original intent in the story, but let's just say that were I to go ON AND ON you'd get a healthy dose of the following words: patriarchy, hegemonic domination, sex class, and bodily (and pyschic) sovereignty.]
I think the headline below is silly, but I'm sure headline writers are overworked and underpaid at the Times. Being a writer of malaise means sweet f.a. about one's finding happiness, acclaim, or happiness in acclaim, and I know I'm just being picky, but I can't help it. I have to take issue w/ "acclaim." Though I'm sure many are interested in "acclaim," I'd venture that writers would rather their work were recognized, which is different, but what do I know? Neither acclaimed nor recognized here, thankyouverymuch. Moving on.
Loving an author's books is one thing, loving an author is another. I'd much prefer that we lived in a simple world in which the twain met and one guaranteed the other. This is pure fantasy, of course. I don't love any group of people indiscriminately because they are members of whatever category they fall into; I love them individually as I take them. I should expect the same from authors. But I don't. That's why the last two paragraphs of the otherwise oddly interesting article just deflated my balloon.
Can a Writer of Malaise Find Happiness in Acclaim?
Ms. Gaitskill had never intended to marry though she had imagined herself spending her life with someone. "I often thought of marriage as rather dull," she said. When Mr. Trachtenberg proposed, she laughed. But she is not cavalier about her choice. "There's a deep level of support that I never knew I was missing," she said, "because I'd never really had it."
And she has enjoyed the kind of social assimilation that marriage affords. "You know, if you're an older woman and you're not married, I think it makes people uneasy," Ms. Gaitskill said. "It was a comfortable feeling to become a recognizable member of the herd."
Oh, hell. I completely understand the need for and value of the deep level of support that comes from a committed relationship. Bless her. But this is a woman who writes about women who are f*cked up and f*cked over by a culture predicated on making someone the prey and who carve out a sort of solace in their outsider status and remain unapologetic about their needs, be they unattractive or untenable or wholly compromised.
It is none of my damn business, but I wish Gaitskill weren't conforming to the bullshit of "the herd." Who gives a flying flip if people are uneasy about older women's marital status? A little perspective, please. Society villifies (older) women in 1001 ways. Why retreat into "social assimilation" (read: safety) now after having stood up for so many of those villified women in one's fictional work? I am of two minds about this: 1) I reject the culture that ostracizes older women and engenders insecurity in those who are not assimilated into social institutions like marriage, and 2) women artists (ugh) face a whole host of risks, disadvantages, and outright attacks to live the creative life, so if Gaitskill has found security after a lifetime of insecurity, I'm happy for her. I wish she's chuck the whole herd life, but like I said, it is none of my damn business. I'll cheer, instead, the fact that she's up for a National Book Award. Why do we need s/heroes anyway?







