I’m reading the novel “By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept” by Elizabeth Smart. It is prose but also reads like one long poem, written by a woman who is fixated on this one emotionally unavailable man that moves her to simultaneous waves of ecstasy and agony. The reader is swept in by its rambling beauty while at the same time thinking Move on woman! But then again, who am I to judge?
Elizabeth, who like me is from Ottawa, encounters George Barker in a bookstore while visiting London, England. Actually she encounters not his actual self, but a book of his poems, and instantly falls in love with the man just by reading his poetry. Wow he didn’t even need to create a dating profile! She doesn’t care that he’s married, and learns that he is teaching in Japan and somehow arranges to fly him and his wife to the writer’s colony in California where she is stationed. They have a passionate affair and over the years, she has four children by him, who she raises on her own. He actually has 15 children in total, with various women. Lucky him!
The pursuit of love drains her, which is evident when you see photos of her – as a young woman she is beautiful, and by the time she reaches middle age and beyond she looks like she’s weathered many storms, a cigarette in hand to soften the blows.
The book is dripping with sentimental yearning, but also has some beautiful lines. She touches upon universal suffering, and the importance of love in times of turmoil. The book was originally published in 1945, at the end of World War 2. This is one of my favourite paragraphs:
Why should even ten centuries of the world’s woe lessen the fact that I love? Cradle the seed, cradle the seed, even in the volcano’s mouth. I am the last pregnant woman in a desolated world. The bed is cold and jealousy is cruel as the grave.
– Elizabeth Smart
The foreward to the current edition is written by Canadian author Yann Martel, author of Life of Pi, who says that “there is something of an ancient Greek sensibility to this book, in which the morality of the behaviour comes second to its emotional impact. I feel, therefore I am – and with a truth of being that no moral code can affect.”
I just saw Yann Martel’s theatre production of Life of Pi a couple weeks ago with my friend Sakshi. We were amazed by its beautiful set and seemingly real animals that made you forget that humans were orchestrating them. The ocean wasn’t large enough to contain Pi’s internal conflict, and his interview with the officials where he recounts his tragic tale was so intense that we ourselves were forced to determine what really happened. What emotions are we willing to embrace? What morality (or lack of) could we allow ourselves to fathom?
The arts allow for expression of emotions and truths in an accessible way, or allow you to just forget everything real and practical and connect with something magical. The least dignified of all art forms has got to be stand-up comedy, which somehow I’ve found myself doing. And here I thought I would be writing novels! Maybe one day!
The latest video I posted on Youtube currently has 3,294 views which is pretty cool! It’s a neat thing to make someone laugh, even if it means sacrificing yourself in the process.
Well I should shower and get ready to head to the farmer’s market near my place. It’s my Saturday routine of grabbing a coffee and a treat, a yummy homemade lunch, listening to live music, and shopping for healthy food (and a bit of chocolate). Maybe even some fall flowers. Happy Thanksgiving!
She's Come Undone 