Joshua Henkin's novel, "Morningside Heights," is about caretaking and ambivalence. It's about how life sometimes tells you that one of your closest relationships will be with a live-in nurse--although your own plans seem to want to follow a different course.
The wonderful protagonist, Pru, marries a man who soon shows signs of early-onset Alzheimer's. Pru isn't ready for this. (How could anyone be ready?) She insists that Columbia retain her husband as a lecturer--although the husband now stands blank-faced at a podium while the TAs do all of the meaningful work. Pru wrestles with nurses who demand raises; a raise isn't possible, but a free ticket to Lincoln Center could "sweeten the bargain." Pru needs to believe her husband is "sexually viable," when he clearly isn't--so Pru begins administering a blow job and pretends not to hear the frustration in her puzzled husband's response.
I haven't lived through Pru's experience, but I understand caretaking, as any parent does. I know what it's like when your mind is in one place, and your body is elsewhere--and I appreciate any thoughtful fictional portrait of this particular situation. My one issue with the novel is that no one appears to consider the option of assisted suicide. I could easily see Pru's family *rejecting* the option--but to imply that the thought never even occurs seems facile and unbelievable to me.
(By contrast, "Sill Alice" shows the Julianne Moore character actually filming a note-to-self about suicide. "When you're too weak to know what to do, please find this tape...." It's a dramatic highlight in that horrifying movie.)
I really liked Henkin's novel, and I recommend it. It's nice to see a writer taking on adults, and finding drama in "small" situations. An old-fashioned story. This was written from the heart.
Comments
Post a Comment