Chapter 54
Late night ruminations from Ye Olde Ballard Burrow
10/24/93
Dear Sally Jessy,
That was an impressive reprimand. I appreciate the frank talk even though the fog is thicker than ever. Before I could even think about taking Sven down to see Bumpa, everything took a hard right turn. He’s up for a job with a literary foundation in New York. If he gets it he’ll host their reading series like he does here, but more than that because basically he’ll run their whole author program. It’s perfect for him. He keeps in touch with so many writers who read at the store. Last week he got letters from Mary Morris (she asked how my writing is going!) and Melanie Rae Thon (she’s struggling to figure out whether a story she’s working on should start at the beginning or the end, and she asked for his advice).
The night before he flew out for his interview, we splurged on two big crabs from Pike Place and managed not to ruin them. We nearly made ourselves sick with all the melted butter, not to mention a whole bottle of Gato Negro. If he gets the job, he says I won’t have to work. I can just write my stories. I’d love to live in New York, but Confession: I want to live in Barefoot in the Park not Bright Lights, Big City . Sometimes I feel like I’m not in the groove of my own times.
When I told Sven New York intimidates me, he said, “But someone must take Laurie Colwin’s place.” I didn’t ruin the moment by telling him I don’t want to take anyone’s place, not even my beloved Laurie’s. The night was blissfully domestic. I showed him how to roll his shirts in his suitcase so they won’t wrinkle. We talked about what it would be like to raise children in a place like New York with all the museums and culture. We fell asleep tangled up on the love seat reading. Him: Andre Dubus. Me: Ann Hood.
He called last night to tell me about having dinner with a guy named Chip who’s the managing editor at The New Yorker . Chip was a student in one of John L’Heureux’s writing classes. John adores Sven and made the introduction. They talked about some of Sven’s stories, and Chip said he’d consider them. I’m thrilled for him, Frida. This is his unsung song. It’s the life he’s meant to live if he doesn’t .
He’s staying with a friend from college for two weeks so he can make publishing connections, and since he’s been gone I’ve felt less I’ve been keeping busy. Kids Books Josephine is hell-bent on expanding my palate and introduced me to tom kha gai and spanakopita. And I went to Il Bistro in Pike Place with some other booksellers. We drank too much rioja and played truth or dare but really it was just truth. Travel Section Jane told us how she gets stomach cramps when she’s anxious, and the first thing Fiction Section Polly does on vacation is buy a trashy romance from the Loveswept series. Jane seems like the last person in the world to have anxiety, and I never dreamed Polly would be into bodice rippers, so I fessed up to my buzzing bees and love affair with Danielle Steel. It was surprising to find out how much we have in common.
Another night Stella and I spent an hour at Blockbuster trying to decide what movie to rent. She wanted Wild at Heart . I wanted The Fabulous Baker Boys since Sven isn’t into movies like that. We ended up playing pool instead. There’s this pool hall called the 211 Club in Belltown. It’s all serious old men like The Color of Money . There’s a sign on the wall that says, “No Music, No Whistling, No Bulls***, Just Pool.” (They spell out the word.) We’re not great players, but we’re not bad, either. It was fun to shoot a few rounds and sit at the bar. We were the only girls there, and no one bugged us except once the bartender shushed us because we laughed too loud.
Afterward we walked over to Septieme for tea. I’m careful not to talk about Sven with anyone at the store. It’s Gossip Central there. But Stella and I have been getting closer, and I told her a little bit which ended up leading to a lot. She said maybe he’s the way he is not because his life has been full of more horrible incidents. Maybe it’s the emphasis he places on those incidents. I told her it’s hard for me to judge because look at the life I’ve been given compared to his. I don’t have his parents. I don’t have diabetes. But Stella said that’s not an excuse and opened up to me about her childhood. Frida, it was heart-wrenching. But you can tell she doesn’t sit around waiting for people to disappoint her even more.
I asked her what she thinks about Lejla’s idea that it’s our duty to feel joy. She didn’t hesitate. She said, “Of course! Like the world needs any more agony.” The next night Roy and I had drinks at Larry’s Greenfront, and we started talking about it, too. I wondered if it’s truly possible to spread joy or if we just tell ourselves we can so we don’t feel guilty for having a good time when a Black Hawk crashes in Mogadishu and U.S. soldiers are dragged through the streets. Roy asked if I’ve heard of the Butterfly Effect. There’s actually a line about it in The Phantom Tollbooth . The Princess of Pure Reason tells Milo, “Whatever we do affects everything and everyone else, if even in the tiniest way. Why, when a housefly flaps his wings, a breeze goes round the world.” Roy says life is hard enough without making it harder on purpose. If we’re going to flap our wings and send breezes, they should at least be refreshing ones. Of course I thought about Lejla’s purple butterflies.
It was interesting to talk to Stella and Roy about this, but it made me realize I’ve never brought it up with Sven because he’d disagree and hound me to admit he’s right, and I’d eventually agree because he’s better at words than me. There’s this part in A Circle of Quiet where Madeleine writes about how the more limited our language is, the more it restricts our power to think. My language still feels so limited when I try to express what I’m thinking. Maybe that’s the real reason I haven’t let Sven all the way in and why I don’t tell my parents how lost I can feel off the boat. Because I’m still figuring out how to explain it to myself.
Talking to Stella and Roy also made me realize how much I wish I was in Paris. I LOVE our letters, but there’s something different about everyday friends you spend time with. If I was in Paris we could go to the flea market and cram things into Kirby’s mini car. Or take Branka to the Rodin garden and look at snails with brown stripes on their shells. Or sit in Chez Lisette overlooking the Seine and drink wine and spill joy all over the place.
Wishfully yours,
Kate
P.S. We just found out that Forth & Regal plans to put a superstore in the Lamonts building in U Village. Kay’s Bookmark is in that mall. How predatory is that!