Nell and Henry always said that they would wait until marriage was legal for everyone in America, and now this is the case--it's August 2015--but earlier in the week Henry eloped with his graduate student Bridget. Bridget is twenty-three, moderately but not dramatically attractive (one of the few nonstereotypical aspects of the situation, Nell thinks, is Bridget's lack of dramatic attractiveness), and Henry and Bridget had been dating for six months. They began having an affair last winter, when Henry and Nell were still together; then in April, Henry moved out of the house he and Nell own and into Bridget's apartment. Nell and Henry had been a couple for eleven years.
In the shuttle between the Kansas City airport and the hotel where Nell's weekend meetings will occur--the shuttle is a van--and she is its only passenger--a radio host and a guest are discussing the presidential candidacy of Donald Trump. The driver catches Nell's eye in the rearview mirror and says, "He's not afraid to speak his mind, huh? You gotta give him that."
Nell makes a nonverbal sound to acknowledge that, in the most literal sense, she heard the comment.
The driver says, "I never voted before, but, he makes it all the way, maybe I will. A tough businessman like that could go kick some butts in Washington."
There was a time, up to and including the recent past, when Nell would have said something calm but repudiating in response, something professorial, or at least intended as such. Perhaps: What is it about Trump's business record that you find most persuasive? But now she thinks, You're a moron. All she says is "Interesting," then she looks out the window, at the humidly overcast sky and the prairies behind ranch-style wooden fencing. Though she lives in Wisconsin, not so many states away, she has never been to Kansas City, or even to Missouri.
"I'm not a Republican," the driver says. "But I'm not a Democrat, either, that's for sure. You wouldn't never catch me voting for Shrillary." He shudders, or mock-shudders. "If I was Bill, I'd cheat on her, too."
-This is the start of "Gender Studies," from Curtis Sittenfeld's story collection. One thing I really admire about Sittenfeld's work is her willingness to break rules: There seems to be a feeling among contemporary writers that you shouldn't add politics to your literary short stories, because political references "date" so quickly. But Sittenfeld is right to say: Who cares? If I want to include political references, I'll include them. The delight she has in writing is evident; you can feel it popping up off the page.
-A master of irony, Sittenfeld enjoys working with ideas about marriage equality. She has Henry "do the noble thing": I won't marry until gay people can marry. (Never mind that, to many gay people, this apparently thoughtful gesture often seemed like skimming the surface. That's an entirely different discussion.) In any case, Henry does the apparently "correct" thing, in terms of politics, and yet he is, clearly, a slimeball. Whereas the cab driver--whose political views are so repellent--is not the one cheating on, and lying to, Nell. The cab driver actually seems to take an interest in Nell. How strange life is!
-I also love the minefield quality of the cab conversation. The driver breaks a cardinal rule: You don't bring up politics with a stranger. There's something ever so slightly defensive in his first remark, as if he anticipates what Nell will think: "You gotta give Trump that." (Implied: "I sense you're unwilling to give much of anything else to Trump.") We get to amour fou very quickly: Nell takes the driver's rudeness and "turns up the volume." But uttering a non-response, she has made the tension much greater.
-There are many valid reasons to dislike the political performance of Hillary Clinton, but "shrillness" isn't among them, and, "I'd cheat on her, too" is one of the most boorish remarks you can imagine. Sittenfeld knows this; she has made the cab driver so wacky, it's now difficult *not* to engage with him. This is "baiting." There's so much happening in this non-discussion. There's the class difference; we know Nell is a professor, and we know the driver is someone who unknowingly uses an incorrect double negative. There's the silence in which Nell considers possible responses before settling on "Interesting"; the cab driver is smart, and he senses that a great deal is happening in that silence. Things are so ugly in the country right now; Sittenfeld thought hard about how two halves of the population could have so little understanding for each other. She finds humor and tragedy in that. And it's cathartic to read her work. A salve, not a cure. Pick up "You Think It, I'll Say It"--if you haven't already.
In the shuttle between the Kansas City airport and the hotel where Nell's weekend meetings will occur--the shuttle is a van--and she is its only passenger--a radio host and a guest are discussing the presidential candidacy of Donald Trump. The driver catches Nell's eye in the rearview mirror and says, "He's not afraid to speak his mind, huh? You gotta give him that."
Nell makes a nonverbal sound to acknowledge that, in the most literal sense, she heard the comment.
The driver says, "I never voted before, but, he makes it all the way, maybe I will. A tough businessman like that could go kick some butts in Washington."
There was a time, up to and including the recent past, when Nell would have said something calm but repudiating in response, something professorial, or at least intended as such. Perhaps: What is it about Trump's business record that you find most persuasive? But now she thinks, You're a moron. All she says is "Interesting," then she looks out the window, at the humidly overcast sky and the prairies behind ranch-style wooden fencing. Though she lives in Wisconsin, not so many states away, she has never been to Kansas City, or even to Missouri.
"I'm not a Republican," the driver says. "But I'm not a Democrat, either, that's for sure. You wouldn't never catch me voting for Shrillary." He shudders, or mock-shudders. "If I was Bill, I'd cheat on her, too."
-This is the start of "Gender Studies," from Curtis Sittenfeld's story collection. One thing I really admire about Sittenfeld's work is her willingness to break rules: There seems to be a feeling among contemporary writers that you shouldn't add politics to your literary short stories, because political references "date" so quickly. But Sittenfeld is right to say: Who cares? If I want to include political references, I'll include them. The delight she has in writing is evident; you can feel it popping up off the page.
-A master of irony, Sittenfeld enjoys working with ideas about marriage equality. She has Henry "do the noble thing": I won't marry until gay people can marry. (Never mind that, to many gay people, this apparently thoughtful gesture often seemed like skimming the surface. That's an entirely different discussion.) In any case, Henry does the apparently "correct" thing, in terms of politics, and yet he is, clearly, a slimeball. Whereas the cab driver--whose political views are so repellent--is not the one cheating on, and lying to, Nell. The cab driver actually seems to take an interest in Nell. How strange life is!
-I also love the minefield quality of the cab conversation. The driver breaks a cardinal rule: You don't bring up politics with a stranger. There's something ever so slightly defensive in his first remark, as if he anticipates what Nell will think: "You gotta give Trump that." (Implied: "I sense you're unwilling to give much of anything else to Trump.") We get to amour fou very quickly: Nell takes the driver's rudeness and "turns up the volume." But uttering a non-response, she has made the tension much greater.
-There are many valid reasons to dislike the political performance of Hillary Clinton, but "shrillness" isn't among them, and, "I'd cheat on her, too" is one of the most boorish remarks you can imagine. Sittenfeld knows this; she has made the cab driver so wacky, it's now difficult *not* to engage with him. This is "baiting." There's so much happening in this non-discussion. There's the class difference; we know Nell is a professor, and we know the driver is someone who unknowingly uses an incorrect double negative. There's the silence in which Nell considers possible responses before settling on "Interesting"; the cab driver is smart, and he senses that a great deal is happening in that silence. Things are so ugly in the country right now; Sittenfeld thought hard about how two halves of the population could have so little understanding for each other. She finds humor and tragedy in that. And it's cathartic to read her work. A salve, not a cure. Pick up "You Think It, I'll Say It"--if you haven't already.
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