Sinister: Mark how her turning shoulders wind the hours

Youn J. Noh ynoh at xxx.edu
Thu Sep 6 06:56:00 BST 2001


When boys (grown men!) express a fondness for the fifties, like over at
scrubbles (his collection of Campus Cuties, the Eames furniture,
tupperware), or the novelty tunes EJL plays on Dragnet, I think that they
must be their mother's sons.  And sometimes they're not even old enough!

I'm thinking of tomorrow night when I'll go to see B & S with my sister
and her husband.  I don't think I'll be able to explain.  Of course, he
has heard them before.  Maybe it just means I don't know him well enough.
For some, the bond isn't as obvious.  Maybe Stuart is like that.  (Would
it explain the splinter of ice in his heart?)

I don't think I gave enough credit to the surprise ending to The Hours,
when it turns out that his life's work was not about Clarissa, but about
his mother.  The way it expands upon the doubts expressed in her own work,
which are smoothed over there, or borne aloft by a swell of feminine
fortitude (her admiration of Austen).  But he is less engaging.

I can't find the page now, the one I first flipped to before reading the
book.  It was about the different expectations men and women have of
each other and the different needs that are filled.  Or more concretely,
the difference in a kiss.  I guess it's the opposite of the tension in No
Exit.  What would make her complete under all that jauntiness?  (I think
it's the first time she has written anything like that.)






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