11:30 AM Wed May 14 - 80
I’m exhausted. It’s been horrible. T. lashes himself forward with scorn & difficulties. His house full of oddments no sane person would want. Condoms behind EVERYTHING! I really lost my temper at him. He blames his various roommates then yells at me for not being sufficiently reverential about his ties. We fell back on glasses of iced tea, talking about the last 7 months. T says I now take his criticism better! I said my only criticism of him is that he’s too critical! His comments are “criticism”, mine are “bitching.” When I got a letter from Genevieve I read to him how she is now running 3 miles a day and he said “Better get going Alysse or she’ll eclipse you like she did in high school!” I was speechless! Then I said imagine if I said that about YOUR brother – either of them. He admitted he wouldn’t like it. As for mentioning half the stuff he wants to pack is broken – forget it. He’s going to fix it all someday. His latest worry is he’ll never get a job and we’ll be camped out cooking with Sterno! Sterno is expensive! 5:35 PM Fri May 16-80 Almost there! Unfortunately T is vague about time promises making planning difficult. Probably the most annoying thing about him since I like to plan every minute of every day to be sure of “psychic refreshment” time. He doesn’t think he deserves psychic refreshment till he’s dead. Is a problem. Clean till 8, then pizza, & Howard’s party at 8:30. Next time I write – we’ll be in NJ!!! 2:10 AM – Grovers Mill Sat 24 May 1980 Here we are! Just finished painting the newly plastered wall, putting up a bookcase and most of my books in it. Bad moment when T. thought I was going to paint the wall yellow (I wasn’t.) The kitchen is done but this bedroom still looks lie hell. Wrote a 9 p letter to Devon when I was at my bluest. Probably shouldn’t send it! Sometimes life is too mysterious and T is too much of a stranger. Of course imagine making this move with Devon! (Or Bruce!) Or Ryder. UNIMAGINABLE!!!! Things are worse because we’re fasting till Mon AM. I use food to pep myself up but this summer I’m determined to get my greed under control. Hard accomplishing anything with T standing over me questioning every move I make. Looking for a place to hang the Earl & Countess of Huntington bas reliefs Mom gave me T said “I won’t lie to you – I don’t like them.” I said, “I’ll put them in my study” but then I boiled. I don’t like ANY of his stuff - its all hideous – but what if I said so? I took it for granted that if HE likes & wants it, end of story. Evidently I need to recast my thinking! But that’s impossible – if I rejected everything I didn’t like we’d only have my stuff! Memorial Day Our compromise is – he works in the barn, I work in the house. The barn is full of treasures that need to be appraised and catalogued and probably sold but he is incensed when I say so! Everything must be saved till it chokes us to death. He is a very angry man and his anger makes me angry. Most unpleasant. He said Alysse, even when you’re angry you’re the person I love most I the world. I feel like I have T’s peace of mind in my care but he doesn’t have mine because he doesn’t know HOW to. Wasted time trying to get him to see praise & encouragement aren’t the same thing. He says, “At least when I praise you you’ll know I mean it.” He thinks I love him because my “standards are low.” 4:30 AM Sat 31 May 80 Can’t sleep. Reading Helen Van Slyke’s hymn to the middle class but all her books are hymns to the middle class. People who think life is an Ionesco play crossed with Munch’s The Scream won’t like Helen Van Slyke. Liddy likes my rewrite “a lot” and is submitting it to Crown. I was sure she’d be able to tell I was getting numb but apparently not. Sent my gothic The Bride & the Wolvesto Tower. Now I have to take a serious look at St Secaire. Had a little cry (private fortunately) over T praising my clothes, body & housework but not projects or ideas. Need to start a serious program of prayer & meditation. Ackerman liked T but his CLERKS didn’t want him and Ackerman leaves it up to them! Too bad. Now he’s behind on his bar study schedule because of the move. Maybe self study NOT the best pattern for a procrastinator? I think men aren’t bred to give encouragement. 7:15 PM Wed 4 June 80 “O Rose Thou Art Sick…” The problem is T’s anger. He we are walking the dogs he says “Keep to the road, dammit!” There is no point cursing at a dog! He says it makes HIM feel better. I say anger is corrupting – it just makes EVERYBODY angrier! How break an addiction that poisons our relationship? How is it women are called “strident” when men pullulate with such rage? Forms arrived so I innocently shared my poems and he got jealous of RYDER!!! It never even occurred to me! (Love the magician) Obviously I should have kept these “secret” but how icky is that! Especially when the guy is lecturing me on “honesty” night and day. I’m going to have to start pleading the Fifth. Set up a prayer desk in my study- books, candles, etc. I’m going to practice. I feel stupid asking for things – just try to get in touch with the Divine. I feel like God could “save” T! Flood him with light, etc. Yesterday required interview with Eng Dept a Brooklyn College for teaching. They astonished me by saying “You’re hired”! Thurs 5 June 80 Yesterday so bad I threatened to give up and drive to Washington! I was almost in despair. He said I am preventing him from studying with my “demands” which means breathing, sleeping & eating apparently. He apologized finally and said he’s just so upset about the bar exam! So I try to relax him physically. Give up on dieting – alcohol & food accomplish what rationalizing & arguing won’t.
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28 Aug 80
Trying to assemble poetry MSS depressing the hell out of me. Who am I kidding? Ordered $63 worth of shorts. Baked honey bran bread and felt better. Need to take up bike riding when we get to Grovers’ Mill. Police cars assemble outside. Mr. Booger hopelessly drunk again. Wed 30 Apr 80 T and I had our WORST FIGHT EVER last night – any fight I don’t dissipate rapidly becomes OUR WORST FIGHT EVER. I was so angry that it would be my JOB to smooth things over. What if I don’t? Will he just explode and spatter the walls like John Cassavetes in The Fury? I get sick of being “blamed” for everything. I refused to let him off the hook. “Where did you put the car key?” What if I didn’t touch the car key? How about “The car key is lost. Do you know where the car key is?” I’m starting to see why Seth is crazy. This kind of milieu would drive anyone crazy. No of them has any idea how to apologize. There is frenzied hysteria about “status” and “loss of face” that would fit right in in thirteenth century China. I pointed out if he wants us to have a pleasant dinner with Judge Liebowitz he is going about it wrong. Why show up a party at each other’s throats? He suddenly confessed his parents ALWAYS started fights before a party and his mother ALWAYS began parties angry at her guests! He had never seen it before but he certainly agreed it’s mighty stupid. He smiled, shook his shoulders and said, “I know you’re going to be your effervescent self” and I said, “You better fucking hope so. Let’s hope I don’t vent my spleen on you the way you do on me.” The Liebowitzes came and I was very nice. The Judge and I got into a spirited conversation about Erle Stanley Gardner and the Judge said, “Of course he never practiced law.” I could see the alarm in T’s eyes that I would contradict him but I sweetly let it pass. Dangerous corner averted should be worth quite a few orgasms (Gardner did a lot of work for the Chinese community whom he saw as victimized.) Judge very impressed that I had read Clausewitz’ Art of War (his favorite book. It would be. I told T later “You don’t want to clerk for this guy.” He is T’s “biggest connection.) I try to discuss it after with T. he says I am “harping.” Anyone waiting for him to apologize about anything is going to wait a long time. 1 May 80 T. still angry. Slamming doors and accusing me of “nagging.” I thought, boy will my children be lucky having me for a mother if this is the way some people are raised! Will he ever get over it? Time will tell – four months till the wedding. I remember when I stopped trying to fix my relationship with Bruce it immediately became broken forever. What I don’t understand is WANTING to be miserable. Seems like a phase T has to go through. 7:05 PM – T came home whistling, walked upstairs, said, Forgive me. I hugged him and hugged him and tore his clothes off!!! Novel up to 240 p. Writing to the point of dementia. 6 pm Fri 2 May 80 Getting exciting! Two weeks! In this weather the city really presses in. Have started taking my walks in the eve. On draft 3 of that idiot blood novel. Too, too depressing. I need to cheer it up somehow but how? Literally do not know how to be literarily cheerful. A bad sign. Should I write a love story? But love is fraught with problems! Think I need to put it away, take another look this summer. Figure out how to saturate it with Colette luminosity. Send mystery to Liddy for ideas. Last night I had to call the police about Booger kids throwing bottles at the house next door. God the last 6 mos has been difficult. I wanted to live here but I couldn’t. It’s more than the rights of wife vs live-in lover. T. can’t handle any mention that this house is less than ideal. But at least it’s been a good investment. I think he will be as glad as I am to leave. Sun 4 May 80 3:30 PM Now I am REALLY depressed. Tried to read An American Romancewanting to see what The New Yorker considers a good love story. Ghastly. Bad style. Literally unreadable. The sex scenes were at least interesting (he calls cunnilingus a “duty dance” with the hostess. Sounds like fun, right?) Starting to think alienation comes from Puritanism. Refusing to allow oneself to feel. Think I need to stop “Fitzgeralding” my novel (he always restricted his own choices out of second-guess self-hatred & panic.) The way people see themselves can save them or destroy them. God I love T! He had excellent interview with Judge Ackerman who might take him for a clerk! $20,000 year. Reading Carole Klein’s Aline– T Wolfe would have published nothing without her. Feeling actually encouraged by HIS depression. Wed 7 May 80 Definitely a fish out of water at T’s compatriots’ “goodbye parties.” Guess I have the rep of dragging him away. Rushed out to buy typewriter ribbon and who should I run into at the office supply store but T and 3 of his workmates who invited me to lunch. I find T’s work persona a bit of a strain. Felt I’d been dragged into the smoking room of a men’s club. He described my novel to them as “about incest.” H ho ho! Hysterical! And T wonders at my “rivers of blood.” I guess we haven’t grown together enough yet. Just hope we can fit into our new skin. I’m absolutely sick to death of this novel and very doubtful that this is the way to write but EVERYBODY says it is! Vomit it out and lap it back up! Ugh. All these rejections really play havoc with your sense of accomplishment. Looking at Plath’s suicide in a new light. Taking my vitamins religiously. Doctor says I don’t have mono. I must be in mourning. Feel like my parents deliberately raised me to have no survival skills. 6:45 PM– Just finished the book. Did feel some pleasure at the end. 302 p. Mon 12 May 80– Clouded over day Just finished My Cousin Rachel– a man kills a woman out of overwhelming jealousy. Similar plot to Rebecca – poor old Daphne in some kind of deep distress. Kind of reminded me of Jane Eyre: “wish fulfillment.” Of course the gang likes that. What is the literary tradition of WOMEN tortured by jealousy? Hags & harridans. Prostitution is an interesting theme. Imagine having a “cash value for everything. We’re going to have a real storm today. Fortunately Lois made graduation easy (not competitive with me as per usual) although when Sutton (T’s father) was here a certain iciness warns us not to have TOO good a time. On Sun we made love all afternoon till she finally called us down. Today I got an acceptance as a writing fellow at Brooklyn College! Doesn’t sound like much money but status, mentoring, help. Maybe. T. has faith in society: I haven’t. Plumly exemplifies our experiences: he was praised and cossetted (teachers turned a blind eye finding him off bounds) my skirts were measured while I was forced to knee. What kinds of boys would we raise if we measured their codpieces, one asks? One needs courage to believe in one’s own experiences. Still, it means I can’t go to Princeton Theological Seminary. Easier to spend than earn that’s for sure. What a joy is the intellect! I am a late starter but I have been distracted. Have to spend all tomorrow packing. Goodbye dinner at T’s editor’s house: his wife has a sign on the wall: “Happiness is where you find it Not where you seek it.” |
Alysse Aallyn
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