Francesca Woodman

Francesca Woodman, Guggenheim Exhibit, Summer 2012

Note: The following post is one that I began over the summer, put aside for a while by other responsibilities. Hence, you'll notice the use of present tense.

I don't remember what drew me to her work, but one night I was working in my college library re-shelving art books. I stood beneath the fluorescent lighting in the stacks pausing now and then to flip through monographs and catalogs. And that's when I found Francesca Woodman by David Levi-Strauss et al; it was an extraordinary find. More than once did I check this book out of the library, studying her photographs, reading the essays. I cannot deny that her death was a curiosity to me- a talented woman so young creating work as early as age eleven that even then included advanced techniques in photography . However, I never felt that her photography made any connection to her death.  As a college student at Rhode Island School of Design, Woodman created the bulk of her work, mostly self-portraits. So many years later after my 'discovery' of this book, I had to see the Francesca Woodman retrospective at the Guggenheim.

I made myself wait. As excited as I was to be there, I made no rush to the third floor gallery, but traversed the funnel with ease, taking in the abstraction show; chatting quietly with my husband about a few of the works. I was disappointed Joan Mitchell was not represented. Unless I missed her, which I don't think so. I allowed anticipation within myself to build in order to fully take in the Woodman exhibit with as much focus as possible. When we entered the short hall into the gallery I forced myself to read the wall text before beginning a provocative journey.

The exhibit is curated chronologically, beginning with photographs taken while at RISD, including one year abroad in Italy, followed by her residency at the MacDowell Colony in  New Hampshire. The exhibit concludes with the New York photos. At first I was surprised by the size of her early pictures; I had only seen one of her photos on display at RISD 'cornered' with a Nan Goldin photograph during the Aaron Siskind show six or seven years ago. The photos are small, requiring attention. Here and now, I stop at each piece looking as carefully as possible, reading the pictures, sometimes eavesdropping on other viewers: "Hmmm."  "Interesting."  "Narcissistic." "Hmmm."

The exhibition catalog is a gorgeous tome featuring essays by the associate curator of photography at SFMOMA and catalogeditor, Corey Keller, curator of photography at the Guggenheim Jennifer Blessing, and associate professor of art history  at the University of California Berkley Julia Bryan-Wilson. In Corey Keller's "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Woman" he explores as much as one can, her brief life as an artist from her upbringing through the New York years; the  but what I love about Keller's piece are the descriptive, near poetic, passages in regards to Woodman's photographs: 

Though she sometimes demurred that her sole motivation for appearing in her photographs was that of convenience, it appears to have been rather more a productive compulsion, albeit one she chose not to examine to closely. Despite her perpetual presence in the photographs, she is always on the verge of disappearance. her face is most often obscured from the camera; on the rare occasions when she fixes us squarely in her gaze, the effect is riveting but disquietingly unrevealing (178).

Bryan-Wilson's text, "Blurs: Toward a Provisional Historiography of Francesca Woodman looks at "some of the trends and patterns in the writing about Woodman... the text is not organized around close readings of her photographs, but rather attends to the thematics of interpretation that have surrounded her work since the critical literature began in 1986" (186).  The essay does not lend itself to biographical discussion, but considers the historical dialogue as told by other critics, feminist or otherwise, on Woodman as a female artist.  Finally Jennifer Blessing's text focuses on six untitled videos created by Woodman during her time at RISD, and "explore[s] the relationship between photography and video... the still and moving image" (197). All three of these essays will remain relevant and important in the study of Woodman and her work. Besides, they are simply a pleasure to read.

What always fascinated me about Francesca Woodman's art was the absence of face, or the blur or conceal of face in the majority of self-portraits, which suggests that her intentions were not narcissistic, but simply an exploration of the self in movement, meaning, and the pre-emptive opportunity to non-acquiesce to any one's gaze: You can look at my body, but I won't tell anyone if I'm pretty or not. I won't let you see me completely, try to read my eyes like you think you might know what I'm thinking. For me, her photographs are playful at times, disturbing at others, and even though she was aware of feminist discourse as discussed in Blessing's essay, I do not necessarily see her work as feminist. I see a young woman exploring her relationship within the frame of a natural and unnatural world. As much as I love her early work as a RISD student, through my experience at viewing this exhibit, reading the catalog and reflecting more on her pictures, I like the MacDowell Colony series the best; clothed and unclothed, her birch bark arms, her stance in patterned dresses that lean to mimic the trees, each picture untitled as they should be. 

My latest essay for RadiusLit.org reflects my emotions on the Newtown tragedy. This was a horrible, horrible incident, and I had mixed feelings on responding to it, but at the same time felt there was no other way. My heart goes out to the community. How we live in a world where this is possible is incomprehensible.

http://www.radiuslit.org/2012/12/15/crying-my-little-one-footsore-and-weary/

"What I Know": The Season Finale, and Final Episode of AMC's The Killing

Open: The Larsen household. Flashback to the Larsen weekend away. Mitch is packing, the boys are begging Rosie to come camping with them, but she says next time. Mitch instructs Rosie to go straight to Sterling's house after the dance.  Rosie watches her mother, glances about, smiling- she knows something we don't. She heads downstairs with backpack, staring at Stan, and walks out of the house. The last time she is seen at home. Here, she closes the door as she exits, this episode soon closes the door on her murder.

The election continues to unfold and the results are about to come in. Holder and Linden arrive at the Richmond party looking for Jamie. We left off last week with Jamie and Richmond at Jamie's grandfather's house. Jamie quickly wheels Darren out of the house saying he has a car to take him to the party.. The detectives and Gwen take off to hunt them down.  Jamie takes Darren to the campaign office. "I want to show you something." 

...

"Why did you lie?"
 Jamie claims his grandfather is a drunk and a liar, there's no need to believe anything he says. Darren asks Jamie

Jamie admits he planted the Indian bones at the waterfront so Darren would approve a casino on the waterfront. 

"What happened to the girl?"
"It was an accident!!"

...

Rosie, saying her goodbyes to the city, overhears the argument regarding the waterfront casino between Jamie, Chief Jackson and Ames. He turns out the light, and as he's walking away hears a cell phone ring- Rosie's phone. And finds her on the tenth floor, same room as the discussion. Rosie, startled and scared , cannot speak. Rosie drops her camera and Jamie is immediately suspicious. He hits Rosie, she  falls to the ground. He believes she's dead. "She was going to ruin everything. It was an accident." As we all know she was alive when the car went into the water. Jamie takes out a gun, which belongs to Darren.  Jamie continues to tell his side of the story. He thought she was dead, but wasn't. He couldn't let her live after coming so far in the campaign. He chased her through the woods until he reached her and slammed the flashlight on her head multiple times. "I was only thinking of you" he tells Darren. "Everything I've always done has been for you." Anger erupts when Darren tries to leave. Sarah, Holder and Gwen are running up the stairs and tell Jamie to drop the gun. In an amazing shot of who fired the gun, we see within seconds that Holder shoots Jamie after he raised his gun to fire at them. 

And there's forty-five minutes of programming left.

...

Next day: Jamie's gun was empty. But it doesn't matter, he was a murder suspect who raised his gun.
Back at the station they've got Michael Ames and Chief Jackson in custody. Examining Jamie's phone records they discover a call to Michael Ames at 3:37 AM and they recall the cab....

Richmond is in the campaign office. Gwen joins his side. He's waiting for the cleaners to take care of the glass and the carpets need replacing. Darren works on a speech for the press regarding Jamie's death. 

The camera pans as Richmond enters City Hall. The Mayor walks in recounting his past and mentions that he's from Pigeon Point, Jamie's home town. 'You have the makings of great leader Darren," and the Mayor exits the room. Darren visits his dead wife, Lily, and recognizes that it's 'time to move on.' Linden and Holder head down to the lake where the campaign car was pulled out of the water. Here's where it all began, but has yet to end. Jamie's story ends with a chase in the woods. His story doesn't end with Rosie in the trunk, drowning in the lake. Someone helped him. The detectives get back in the car and head to the Larsen's home.

When they arrive Terry is there, but Stan and Mitch are out. Linden glances around the garage and spots something. A busted tail light on Terry's car. Linden goes upstairs and finds Terry sitting on Rosie's bed. 

"You were there at the lake, weren't you? You picked him up from the ferry that night. Both of you were both going to the airport for that flight to Vegas. And that's when he got the call about a girl in the woods."

"Rosie was nine when I read her the story of the Monarch butterfly. She love it. It was like, like she believed the world could be hers. Everything in it."

"You ... . He was going to leave his wife for you wasn't he?... You were going to have everything."

Stan and Mitch enter the bedroom. They ask them to go downstairs. Terry begins to apologize and Linden tells her not to do this here. She's a wonderful actress and as this scene continues her performance is breathtakingly sad, harkening back the reception following Rosie's funeral when Ames and Terry  see each other; Terry leaves and we next see her in Rosie's bedroom crying, while a record plays.

...

Flashback: Terry waiting in the car while Jamie and Michael argue over Rosie, and Terry overhears Michael say he's not leaving his wife. Terry gets out of the car -we see expensive shoes reminding us of her profession, reminding of the shoes from season one- and Terry gets into the campaign car, puts it in neutral and the car rolls into the lake. She doesn't know it's Rosie. A heartless gesture for unrequited love as Rosie's screams sink into the water.

 And now, here we see her again. 

"I didn't know. I didn't know it was Rosie."

But when did she know? When did she realize the result of actions was the killing of her own niece? And does this even matter knowing that Terry has the ability to murder?

Linden and Holder separate Stan from Terry as he lunges after her; Holder reminds him the boys are downstairs. Linden holds onto to Terry, and the look on Sarah's face is one of pity as we see her hand reach and caress Terry ever so slightly on her back. Terry runs to Mitch, holds her, screaming and crying that she didn't know. Surprisingly, Mitch lifts her arms in a loose hold around her sister, possibly accepting the anguish rippling through Terry's body. 

...

Following the commercial break we're back at the station. Holder enters their office, Linden sitting in the dark. She asks for a cigarette, but he's all out. Terry declined a lawyer and is being transported to county in a couple of hours. An officer drops off the Rosie Larsen film. Sarah exits to watch the footage: "What I know" a film by Rosie Larsen. The world is vast... I know I want to see it all. ...Just like you wanted to Mom... I don't know where I'm going, but I'll let you know when I get there.  I know Tommy and Denny Mom and Dad I love you! The film includes family shots, seagulls flying freely above the waterfront symbolic of her impending freedom, yet flying toward heavenly skies forshadowing the outcome of her destination.

...

Linden and Holder get the call. A body was found and their first up. Linden gets out of the car, perhaps contemplating whether to stay on the job. or say good bye. She's leaving. "Keep in touch. You're my ride, you know." Sarah watches Holder pull away as she looks over at the Larsen's old place. She walks the neighborhood sidewalks, walks away from the job, we think free from the psychology of her own past, her experience as a detective, and since the show has not been renewed, walks off the set.

Chief Jackson enters for a meeting along with Michael Ames. Gwen looks on as Darren closes the door on her. She is shocked at what is happening.  He's just as bad as everyone else.

...

Stan wakes up that morning to find Mitch packing up Rosie's room. He joins her on the floor, and helps. Later, Stan drives the family to their new home. It's wonderful to see that Mitch has made concessions if not come to understand the need for the whole family to move on from Rosie's demise. There are many touching moments in the scenes with the Larsen family: Stan lingering over Belko's locker if only for a moment; Terry arriving and Mitch feeling the guilt of her last moments with Rosie. The finale was directed by Patty Jenkins, who also directed the pilot. An incredibly powerful season finale with outstanding performances.

...

I began this entry the night of the finale, but life brought larger things into play, taking precedence  over completing this entry. As time continued and the summer became increasingly busy, I let things go for a bit. You might wonder, why bother posting this now? Well, endings are required for new beginnings; in order for me to continue with other writings on my blog, I had to conclude this one, even though it feels incomplete. With that said, we'll see if a Season Three comes to fruition since Netflix and AMC are in talks. 

Donnie or Marie. I Love. It. AMC's The Killing

So who's it gonna be? Donnie or Marie? 


Last week's episode leads us to believe that either Gwen or Jamie is responsible for the Larsen murder. They know the Mayor doctored the photo of Richmond passing through the toll may episodes ago, but Sarah offers to 'drop it' and pursue the Richmond campaign in the Larsen case if the Mayor agrees to call off the 'dogs' waiting to arrest her and Holder. They hole up in Holder's car and review the evidence from the night Rosie was killed. They discover that Gwen canceled her dinner plans that night and her where abouts were unknown. Jamie, on the other hand, "went to the City Hall gym at 4:37 AM. Security guard didn't let him in; didn't have his key card" (Holder). Sarah goes to City Hall to inquire about key card replacements, but a Mr. Kimberg (sp?) says that the list of key card holders was deleted from his hard drive on Monday, October 8th, the Monday following the Larsen murder. However, a new card was issued to Gwen. Now the assumption is the card found on the 10th floor belonged to Gwen, but Holder and Linden head back to the casino to retrieve the security disks that provides video of passengers on the elevator headed to that floor (which later reveal Jamie riding up in the elevator). After a brief, unpleasant verbal exchange with Chief Jackson, a photograph on the wall catches Sarah's eye. The picture includes Gwen standing with Chief Jackson  and her father, a the ribbon cutting ceremony for the casino. The detectives now have a solid connection between Gwen and the casino, but Linden asks the remaining questions, "What is her connection to Ames?" The answer may lead them to the next link: the Waterfront Project. Now, cut to the voting booths. Gwen takes Richmond outside to wait for the car and give a shielded interpretation of her own goodwill and work for the campaign: "I tried so hard for you. We came so far, Darren." When the limosine arrives Gwen makes a quick exit and says, "I'll see you at the next stop." Her transition from grasping Darren's hand and releasing it is emotionally suspect. With these latest allegations and investigations by Linden and Holder it is too easy to read into both Gwen and Jamie a lingering guilt.


After checking with Gwen's canceled dinner with Council woman Yitanis, she tells the detectives that Gwen uses sex to maintain control over the Richmond campaign. We also learn that Michael Ames' wife is actually the owner and controller over the Ames company. We than encounter a grand twist. As the title of this episode suggests Jamie is not left out from speculation: Jamie helped push through Ames' contract for the Waterfront Project. Holder and Linden go back to the campaign office to speak with Jamie and learn that Richmond was unaware of Jamie's intent to sway one of the Mayor's backers by helping Ames out with expediting the contract.
This idea also surfaces: "What if Gwen and Jamie did it together?"


Linden and Holder head to the yacht club valet and find the campaign car was driven by Gwen Eaton  to the club. This is the car Rosie Larsen's body was found in.


Meanwhile, Mitch is home on Halloween night and in many ways her arrival is more of a disruption and is mostly welcomed by her youngest son, Denny. Terry is less then thrilled, and Tommy, her oldest son remains angry at her abandonment and subsequent return. Mitch seems to expect everyone in the household to continue living as if she never left. When Mitch brings Denny home from school he asks his Aunt Terry to make him a grilled cheese sandwich. Mitch offers to do it, but Denny like the way Aunt Terry makes them. Terry reassures her that they'll be happy to have her back cooking after all the grilled cheese sandwiches they've been eating lately. This slight jab of truth and anger brings out this exchange between characters:


"You know, I found a new place to live not to far from here." (Terry)
"This yours?" Mitch holds up a bra.
"Oh, yeah, I just put some of my stuff in twith the laundry. So I guess you guy's will be busy moving soon so I better get my ass in gear."
"Moving?"
"I thought that since you were back-"
"What house? What are you talking about."
'I'm sorry, I thought that you knew. I found out by accident. You should just talk to Stan about it."
"Yeah, yeah I will.'
"Don't be mad at him. We all did the best we could while you were gone. It was hard. Stan, the boys, they needed-'
'What, Terry? They needed what? You have no right to judge me... you don't know what it's like, you don't have a family you don't have children. It's like, what do you know about any of this?'
'What I know is, I've been working my ass off to keep this family together while you were trying to 'find' yourself on some vision quest. You still had so much, Mitch, And you walked out. You walked out."


Later, Mitch confronts Stan about the house, realizing she should have trusted him that their money didn't go toward illegal activity, but into a home with a backyard. Stan sees this new home as a fresh start for the family, but Mitch sees it another way:
".... I came back to be here. With you and the boys... I don't want to leave this, I don't want to leave her behind."
Stan comes clean with his feelings:
"You know there's no moving on. As long as we're here, in this house... Yeah, I think we should move on. You don't have a right to look at me like that. What I've been through these last few weeks... you're the one who left. The boys, the boys needed you. I needed you and you walked out. I was the one who stayed."


Mitch is entitled to believe that the role of mother gave her the right to leave (just as Sarah's role as mother allowed her to say goodbye to Jack) that she loved her daughter more than Stan simply because she's blood and technically Stan was her step-father. His anger toward Mitch is more than warranted as her decision to leave the family was of her own accord.


So who killed Rosie Larsen? Tonight is the big reveal, the season finale of AMC's The Killing, and unfortunately, the last episode. This program has been incredibly sustainable through great writing, storytelling, and acting; it's a terrible shame that a smart, literary drama was not renewed another season. My post on the finale will publish tomorrow night (6/18 after 9PM). I hope to continue posting occasional writings on the show, specifically criticisms in relation to family, politics and feminism.  I've always viewed The Killing as a good, compelling read.


What's for dinner: grilled cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off. 

Manipulation & Bullies On AMC's The Killing: 72 Hours & The Bulldog

Like a dream: Linden slowly awakens, feels a bump on her head. Notices bars crossing the windows. She rises from a hospital cot. her movement at first appears unnatural, almost alien. Her pace quickens down the hall to a locked doorway and on the other side we read "Psychiatry Acute Ward."


Linden was knocked out after breaking into the 10th floor of the casino.  Chief Jackson claims Sarah tried to kill herself and now Linden is on suicide watch. We could see the breakdown coming, but who knew Sarah would actually be hospitalized under false pretenses? Through this episode Holder  makes every attempt to have her released: he makes demands on Lieutenant Carlson; visits Regi, but she refuses to help insisting this is what Sarah needs. As the episode unravels and Holder begins putting two and two together regarding the Waterfront Project, he manages to convince the Lieutenant to have Linden released, which can only be done by her doctor. And here, most clever I think on the part of the writers, we see Rick, Sarah's fiance come to the hospital and sign the papers ("She know I'm here... I"ll help get her out, but I can't be involved anymore. She's your responsibility now.) Dr. Rick Felder. Throughout the hospital scenes Sarah's ability to use manipulation as a strategy for survival becomes more evident and by the time Felder arrives we as viewers can see how easy it was for  him to love her. 


At first Sarah is belligerent, wanting only to accomplish one goal: leave the hospital and continue working the Larsen case. Dr. Carey is "...not here to keep you against your will..." and she works very hard to retrieve information from Sarah, tap into her deeper emotional being that causes the unhealthy obsession she's developed with the Larsen case, and one from her past. The mysterious drawing we've seen since the beginning: the treeline. Questioning continue on both sides as Dr. Carey slowly draws out a response here or there, connecting Sarah's cases to her own childhood:


"Why do these two cases mean so much to you?"
Impatient pause of silence.
"I've been cooperative, I've answered your questions and now I'd like to know when I'm getting out of here."
The doctor suggests taking a break, but Sarah is angry: "No- you said all I had to do was talk and then you'd let me go."
"Well, I think you need to stay here for a little bit longer."
"How much longer?"
"Possibly through the end of the week. You need to rest, eat, get into a normal routine."
"You can't keep me here. I did what you asked. I answered your questions, and now I need to leave."
"It's not a punishment to be here-"
"You can't keep me here! I need to get out of here right now. You lied to me...don't you touch me... what are you doing.. you promised me... I shouldn't be here."


Between intermittent dialogue Sarah is carried out of the office by hospital staff. Here, we see the breakdown occur: she is trapped, cannot work on the case, but it is possible that her own childhood memories are coming into play here; the abandonment she felt by her mother and discovered by child protective services alone in that apartment. It's almost as though she is that child again, but also speaking for the other children she has met along the way either living or deceased; their cry too: "You lied to me... don't you touch me... what are you doing... you promised me... I shouldn't be here."


After dinner, Sarah is more willing to speak to Dr. Carey, but whether she does this to appease the doctor or because she wants to talk, is unreadable. She talks about the Larsen case, which Dr. Carey connects to Adrian, the little boy who continually drew the treeline picture when Sarah found him. And then Dr. Carey brings up Sarah's mother.
"Sarah, maybe, what they went through is something you relate to. Have you ever thought about that?"
"What? I told you why it matters." (The change in Sarah's tone here signifies manipulation; she appeared passive, spoke quietly with a shaking voice, but suddenly turns solid and cold without warning.)


"Let's talk about your mother. Why she abandoned you."
"You sit there in that chair across from me thinking you'll get to the heart of it. That you can help me, that you can save me. You must feel good thinking that. Justifying your little life like that."


As they continue to discuss Sarah's past, a hospital worker comes to the door. Once the opportunity to leave arrives Sarah shuts down, weighing her options quickly and again, she rises, exits the room, walking quietly; she has escaped her memories and no longer needs to reveal anything. When she sees Rick it is possibly one of the saddest moments of the series. As Sarah comes down the stairs, the Linden we know well in her usual jeans, sweater and winter coat, she sees Rick signing the papers at the desk window. Her eyes widen, he smiles at her slightly and signs the papers as her hands touch the glass, reaching out to him. By the time she enters the lobby Rich is gone. We see her glance about the room, her face sullen, the dark cavernous circles beneath her eyes quiver with a chance of tears, until her face falls on Holder. They exit and it's back to 'normal.


And that brings us "The Bulldog."




                                                 *********************************


                                              


Last week's episode, Bulldog, is a testament to the word "boss." Characters flex their  intimidation muscles with threats and determination: Linden and Holder get the federal warrant through a request to Gwen, which she successfully obtains by threatening her father by going public with Mayor Adams' sexual assault all those years ago. Mayor Adams invades Richmond's campaign office, revealing to Darren that he knows where he was the night of the Larsen murder and if he doesn't resign, the Mayor will reveal how "weak" Darren was to attempt suicide and he'll never practice politics again. Perhaps the greatest threat of all, Yanik's visit to Stan's place and his threat against Stan's family if he does not take someone out on Yanik's behalf. 


"I learned from the best."
                            -Gwen Eaton


Thanks to Gwen, the federal warrant is granted. Linden, Holder and the FBI enter sacred ground and head to the casino's tenth floor to start digging and uncover the single piece of evidence that may be the final link between politics and the Larsen murder. Last week left us with the image of contractors working in the room, pounding nails, laying plywood.  Linden directs the FBI to tear up the floors. As Chief Jackson looks on exhibiting anger and confidence that nothing will be found, Linden finds the key card, but admits nothing. One of the best scenes of the episode is when Chief Jackson is shown the security tapes and  we see Linden holding the card up to the elevator camera, smirking all the while as she places it into an evidence bag. In Holder's car they discuss the limited options they have in using the card to gain justice, but they can't get the blood on the card tested, or turn it over the the Seattle Police; Linden began the play in the elevator, revealing her findings and now, with the election in 24 hours, and the Mayor's threat against Darren to back out of the race or else, the biggest curiosity is, who does the card belong to?

"You have until 9PM to withdraw from the race. Or by then the whole country will know what a coward you are."

                       -Mayor Lesley Adams

During the course of tonight's episode, Mayor Adams shows up at Richmond campaign headquarters and reveals to Darren that he is aware of Darren's whereabouts the night of the Larson murder.  Darren tells Gwen and Jamie that he's going to withdraw from the race. Darren explains where he was that night, that he tried committing suicide. After Jamie storms out of the office, Darren tells Gwen "I wasn't planning to do anything."  Later at the rally, Darren Richmond dispels all rumors on his whereabouts the night of the Larsen murder:


"Most of you know that I had a brush with the law recently... I was released because I had an alibi, which was sealed..." Although Jamie believed this announcement to be political suicide, it actually presented Darren as more of a human being than the Mayor ever could be.  "Everyone of us has stood on the bridge, at one time or another." The act of giving up, but then realizing your purpose and why  life must continue upon finding the strength in your weaknesses. At the end of the episode we see that the key card does not open the Mayor Adams' office, but someone else that will not be revealed until next week... however, we know from the contents of the office that it belongs to someone working the Richmond campaign. Is it Jamie? Gwen?  The idea of someone in the Richmond camp playing both sides was presented in season one through the email communication that connected Eutanis' nephew to the Mayor. Now, we see a far deeper cut and previews for next week suggest Linden is either going to Mayor Adams to make a deal "We have a common enemy" or she too, will play both sides, roll the dice, see where guilt rises from the water..




"If anything happens to me, I want you to take care of the boys... you're good with the Ter- and they love you. You're a natural."


                                   -Stan Larsen


Janik Kovarsky, Alexi and another Russian mob cohort shows up at Stan's place. Janik dismisses his henchmen, telling them to take Stan's dog for a walk. Janik demands that Stan kill someone and basically threatens to kill Stan's family, even their new bulldog, if he doesn't follow through with the kill. A devastated Alexi overhears Stan admit that he killed Alexi's father on Janik's orders, foreshadowing what is to come. Later, after a brief scene in the park, Stan leaves Terry with the boys, dressed in their Halloween costumes, stating his wishes if anything should happen to him. We know Stan leaves for the kill. He waits for the victim outside the man's home and heads to the rear of the car where he sees a baby girl in the backseat, a reminder that this is where it all begins- each character a product of their own environment. With defeat, Stan begins to back away, but the victim sees Stan's gun in the sideview mirror.  Stan beats his head against the steering wheel, telling  him to get out of Seattle and never come back. Next we see Janik get in his car after watching this scene between Stan and the target unfold. A gun immediately goes to the back of Janik's head and guess what, it's not Stan, but Alexi. He takes revenge for his own father's murder and kills Janik. Stan is free (not from the law) or so we hope, but what will happen to Alexi?


Suggested meal: Meatloaf with mashed potatoes, corn, a roll and a slop of gravy eaten very quickly.

And the second time it wasn't that hard... : The Kids On AMC's The Killing Are Not Alright

AMC's The Killing is no longer about the Rosie Larsen case. With each episode we have seen the influence of adult children on their own, exploring the detrimental side effects of bad decision making, loss, but even more so, the cycle of behavior that began in their own childhoods into this adult world an how their behaviors filter down into their children's lives.


I've taken some time to digest the outcome of Sarah's relationship with Jack (Off Reservation). The ending was predictable; Linden's interrogation of Alexi (episode Ghosts of the Past; see May 6th post) was a step toward the outcome: we witnessed the sad, heart-breaking good-bye between Sarah and Jack, placing him on a plane to his father's in Chicago. Sayonara, Hiawatha brought us back to the reality of loss as Sarah finds Jack's shirt and/or jacket in the backseat of her car. She pulls it to the front seat, stretching it out in front her saying her son's name, then grasping the shirt with love and tears. Holder finds her asleep in her car the next morning. Sarah's life has never changed from her own childhood- transient, unfulfilled and an inability to accept the love of others. One can assume that Jack, with the exception of the occasional phone conversation is out of the picture in the filmic world of The Killing. He is still in Sarah's life at arm's length, but one can only hope that his experience of living in hotels, being in unknown constant danger due to his mother's actions involving the Larsen murder, and  her physical and psychological absenteeism will become memories that Jack can digest as a young man  through other avenues including therapy. The Killing makes you care for these characters, examine the root of social problems in America: the foster care system, the lack of justice surrounding the death of children.   


Last week's episode, "Sayonara, Hiawatha" continues with Linden and Holder following the latest clues concerning the Larsen case despite the fact they no longer have access to the files, which have mysteriously 'disappeared' as they were never received by county. All of this follows the vicious assault committed by Chief Nicole Jackson's people and left him for dead on reservation land. When Holder went to the station Lieutenant Carlson told him he was off the case and that Linden was bad for him. "Do you know she spent a month in a psyche ward due to a previous case?" Finally, we receive a strong indication of the approaching breakdown in Linden's life. There was certainly breadcrumbs leading up to this revelation, but it was still unknown as to what degree her life had been altered so severely by a previous case, but the continuing storyline and character development have quickly led us down this path to discovery this season. When Holder receives this information he appears shocked, suddenly realizing who his partner is and what she has experienced. Holder's obtuse affection for Linden reminds us of his own upbringing: raised by his older sister (who we finally met in the Off Reservation episode while he was recovering in the hospital following the assault) only to let her down through his addiction.


With Linden and Holder no longer legally attached to the Larsen case, they take matters into their own hands through Linden's directive. Holder, breaking and entering into Gil's apartment, tears the place up. We don't see any of this off-screen activity, but Gil walks into his place and realizes someone has been there only to hear the slight sounds of Holder eating Gil's leftovers at the breakfast table. Holder basically threatens Gil wanting access to the Rosie Larsen case files. Linden plots to return to the reservation; they need to access the 10th floor of the casino in order to gain the next possible clue.


Meanwhile, Stan Larsen continues to keep himself in control and work on his own to find more information on Rosie's murder. Unfortunately, his previous announcement to offer a reward brings only greed to his door steps (Keylela). His oldest son, Tommy, has been having trouble in school with other students picking on him over Rosie and the possibility that she was a prostitute. Anger and frustration builds in Tommy and Stan gets called to the school (Sayonara, Hiawatha) only to discover that Tommy has been suspended for killing a nest of baby birds, "Boy's will be boys." Stan's focus on trying to unearth Rosie's killer causes his neglect for the boys to grow. Stan believes that he can still provide for them, take care of the family business, but truthfully he cannot do all of this on his own. Terry is no longer in the picture, and as we know Mitch left the family, creating a deeper chasm of loss for the boys. Walking from the school to the truck Stan lays down a series of punishments for Tommy and an argument ensues between them, the kind of painful words said in moments of anger that children never forget:


Tommy: "You would never do something like this to Rosie... I hate her and I'm glad she's dead." 
Stan: "Because Rosie never pulled crap like this."
Tommy:"She did a lot worse. Everybody at school know's what she did."
Stan: "Shut your mouth."
Tommy:"I hate her and I'm glad she's dead." Stan slaps Tommy, Tommy throws punches at his father. "I hate you. I wish I could leave you like mom did. I hate you."
Stan: "Guess what, I hate you to. Do you think I wanna be here? I don't have a choice and neither do you. Now get in the truck."
Forgiveness comes later in the episode before dinner:




Stan: "I love you boys. You will never be alone, I promise you that."
Denny: "Does mom still love us?"
Stan: "Mom didn't leave because she doesn't love you. Mom left because she has stuff to figure out."

Tommy: "I miss her. I miss Rosie."

 However, these verbal exchanges never leave you as a child and stay with you growing up. The words between Stan and Tommy back at the school will not be forgotten, and unfortunately hate is a more powerful than love.  Nothing is easy in this world except physical and emotional neglect between adults and their children. Although we don't know much about Stan's childhood or his background as a young man, we do know that there is a chance he murdered Alexi's father, which damaged Alexi tremendously. Thus far, his actions during the course of season one and season two have only suggested his ability or wanton desire to kill another human being (i.e. the attack on Bennet Ahmed in season one).  Other adult characters in the show also provide examples of the broken nature in which they continue to live in the memory of their childhood. 


Gwen meets with Mayor Adams at Richmond's office, suggesting she has a proposal for him.  Here, we witness yet another example, this time of an adult child damaged by a parents' secret. Gwen's intention is to try and blackmail the Mayor by recalling an incident from her childhood:


"I've been thinking a lot about the summer before my freshman year of high school. Dad was running for senate. You were working on that campaign, spent all that time at our house. That night after the rally... I was fourteen years old...  I wonder how my father will see it ."  


"You think your father didn't know?"


As Gwen's face hits the floor we realize this suggestion, and likelihood,  of rape was known by her father all along; a memory that has obviously haunted Gwen for many years. He allowed his daughter to be used for political gains. 


Sayonara, Hiawatha is all about secrets- the secrets we keep to protect others, but when the truth is revealed, such as Rosie's discovery that Stan was not her real father, Gwen's rape, Tommy's painful inability to cope with the death of his sister and his mother's abandonment. Linden's decision to let Jack go. There is nothing one can do, but continue watching the emotional evolution of these characters and the consequences of their actions.  


Recommended meal: Leftover dinner for breakfast served cold.

Rich's Transgressor Mother & AMC's The Killing

NOTE: Spoiler Alert.


     Some friends of mine recently granted me a book on loan: What is Found There, Notebooks On Poetry and Politics by Adrienne Rich. I've been skipping around, tackling each essay as my interests sway in different directions. The Transgressor Mother opens with commentary on Costa-Gravas's film Missing which stars Sissy Spacek and Jack Lemmon and leads into a slightly comparative discussion on the political feminist discourse between film and a collection of poetry: "...a woman's life vaguely unfolding until shocked out of innocence into politics, much as Costa-Gravas's straight American father is shocked out of innocence into politics..." (146-147. The poet in reference is Minnie Bruce Pratt and her prize-winning collection Crime against Nature. Now my point is not to necessarily continue this discussion, but this statement in Rich's essay took me elsewhere: "When an undomesticated woman refuses to hide her sexuality, abnegate her maternity, silence her hungers and angers in her poetry, she creates... a force field of extraordinary energy" (158). Rich is talking about the political nature in which poetry evolves into a stream of a woman's truth-telling; there is no hide-out because the voice is strong, vapid. This idea is not only present in poetical works, but in the portrayal of a televised female character.


     AMC's The Killing has one of the most interesting female characters on television: Sarah Linden. She is a single mother, a working mother. Her position is homicide detective for the Seattle Police Department. At the beginning of season one we see a woman in love, engaged, preparing to leave the job and move her life and her son Jack to Sonoma, California. Slowly but surely Sarah gets sucked deeper into the Rosie Larsen murder case and becomes completely engendered by every aspect of Rosie. Somewhere in the background, in the life of Sarah Linden is a secret that reveals an unknown breakdown or attachment to finding dead girls. Her sympathy, possibly love, and absolute desire to find Rosie's killer overrides even the love and attention her son needs.  Her engagement eventually falls apart, and her complex relationship with Jack becomes even more so. But Sarah cannot escape herself; she is a survivor of the foster care system, knows the ins-and-outs incredibly well as if she is still living that life. She makes emotional connections with broken children and on-the-job situations that take her mind back to her past. In a recent season two episode, "Ghosts of the Past," Sarah interviews Monica, a woman who supposedly lost her husband at the hands of Stan Larsen, but also gave up her son, Alexi, after her husband was murdered. After Sarah recognizes a cereal bowl near the kitchen sink she joins Monica at the table: "I have a son too. And I worry about the ways I've let him down. Times I wasn't there for him. I know what it feels like to... to think you've failed your child." Sarah is using her experience to not only manipulate the emotional charge, but also relives the fact that she almost lost her own son once, and here Sarah is, obsessed with her work while her son is not feeling well and needs her attention. She denies the love of her own child in order to pursue the discovery of another child's death. Later in this same episode Sarah interrogates Alexi again, relating her experiences this time as a child to Alexi, but then brings mothering back into the dialogue: Child Protective Services, Larkspur, King County Juvenile Detention... you get around Alexi. [Pause] The worse food's at county. Those  bologna sandwiches- forever cheese." And here Alexi straightens himself with discomfort at her knowledge. Sarah continues: "Case number 78-203. Funny how it never leaves you like a nickname." Sarah continues, bringing up Stan Larsen and what he did to Alexi's father eventually leading to his statement: "Left you with that emotional cripple, your mother. She gave you up, Alexi. And the second time it wasn't that hard for her. There's no way she had your back, ever. My mom too. CPS must have come five or six times, I tried to cover it up, knew the foster house was going to be worse and it was right right? Kids aren't fools we know. Must have run away half a dozen times but in the end she gave me up that's what they do." While all of this is going on Sarah knows that once again she is at risk of losing her son for the second time, but the silence of her hunger is work, specifically solving this case. Whatever happened to her as a child is a constant bridge between herself and the survivors and victims of abuse.


     At the end of last week's episode, "Openings," Sarah discovers that someone has been in their apartment. The haunting illustration of trees that we've observed since season one is hanging on the refrigerator door. Sarah and her son Jack, at this point, feeling better, flee the hotel room they've been staying in (since the engagement ended they never moved into an apartment or permanent residence) and stay overnight at Holder's apartment. Here, Jack has moments of stability: a Monopoly game with Holder, laughter, a sit-down meal. Sarah's obsession, her undomesticated life does not allow Jack to finish his breakfast.  She tries to keep Jack safe, take care of him, but political and emotional state is re-focused. No sooner do they settle into the next hotel (tonight's episode, "Keylela") she is out the door following the next clue. Is Sarah a bad mother? No. Does she love Jack? Yes. Is she willing to risk losing him again because of her job? Possibly.  When Child Protective Services arrives at their hotel to inspect their place of residency and interview Jack regarding reports of neglect, Sarah tries to shut them out. She is all too aware of what this means. She knew they had to keep moving for the sake of safety; to stay together.  "I need you to stay on this side of the room, and not talk to your son."  A few moments later Jack says with emphasis that he needs to use the bathroom.  Earlier in the episode when they arrived at the hotel Sarah points out that if there's a fire he should exit through the bathroom window. At the onset of the CPSs' interview, he does just that; Sarah fakes a phone call and they both meet at her car and flee the scene. This is ultimate risk. Her son is in complete emotional pain slumped over, crying; pulls away from her attempt at comfort, which for her always appears minimal. Sarah has never been  portrayed as a 'loving' character except in the arms of her fiancee in season one. But it is not that she doesn't love her son. Her experience as a child is replicated in her own mothering: a sad, untouchable life that remains unknown to us.


For Dinner: Room service for one along with one pay-per-view movie.

We Gathered About Her

     Sherwood Anderson's story Death in the Woods (1933)  is that of an abused woman, yet one who continues to take care for those who ingratiate her with violence and unlove. The weight she carries on her back is not only that of food or supplies, but the weight of life's experiences from a young girl to the stooped shoulders of a tired old woman. When I read this story I think of my grandmother. When I read this story I think only of her each time, no one else and I don't think I repeat in my head, Hey- remember how this reminds you of your grandmother?


     My grandmother was a strong woman in many ways: mother of eight children, my mother being the oldest. She often sat at the head of her kitchen table although she was never quite in charge. She smoked a lot, one Marlboro after the next; constantly re-heating the same cup of tea, something she came to do when her children got her a microwave for Christmas one year. She always drank Red Rose Tea; she collected the tiny ceramic animals that occasionally lived inside the rectangular box. There was a whole menagerie hanging out with her spoon collection; a green sea turtle in Kansas, Noah and his Wife in Tallahassee, Florida. Her curation is truly memorable.  My grandmother was a woman very much like the old Grimes woman in Anderson's story: "People drive right down a road and never notice an old woman like that" (51). She walked many miles when she had no means to drive. Her soft voice was like a string orchestra in constant rehearsal. 


     People knew my grandmother, but for different reasons. Through family stories I picture her brother punching her husband in the face after he beat her. "They fought sometimes and when they fought the old woman stood aside trembling" (53). Long after divorce she wanted to work, but had never had a job. She worked as a nanny for a while, even went on a cruise with the family, I think. Then at a beauty company, although I am unclear in what capacity. She could not function in the day- to-day life of a working woman, whose children were grown and all but, maybe one, still lived at home. But soon he left, too. Hers was a life of stock pot cooking; she never got used to making a meal for one. In some ways the hard-working, worrisome Grimes symbolizes my grandmother's inability to work: "She had a few chickens of her own and had to kill one of them in a hurry. When they were all killed she wouldn't have any eggs to sell when she went to town, and then what would she do?" (53).


      My grandmother spent hours worrying about everyone, especially her children. She often worried about money, but usually got through each month on government assistance. She saved a lot of things like Johnny Cash records she eventually sold. When she spoke she was quiet and mumbling: "She had got the habit of silence... she went around the house and the barnyard muttering to herself" (53). Many times I listened, but seldom understood what she said. Silence is the aftermath of violent earthquakes; it comes between the push and shove, the verbal manipulations. I do not know of any of this first hand as her life in my palms is a hand-me-down, but I have a distinct memory, a muttering about "...that's what I thought love was..."  Her own unlove began in a field where Anderson's story ends.


     I think she was happiest taking care of others, whether she was appreciated or not. You could rarely escape her kitchen without a bite to eat, whether leftover spaghetti, or a scoop of chocolate ice cream with a dollop of whip cream. Her cabinets were filled with dishes, bowls, recycled corned beef jars used for drinking, or holding spider plants. She had sets for twelve, maybe more, but always drank from the same tea cup and used the same spoon, rinsing them between servings. She was diagnosed with stage four cancer a few years ago, and suddenly her body became lighter, "the pack on her back" (55) became lighter, and walks to town in bad weather were gone. I loved my grandmother, did not spend enough time with her. I experienced many emotional journeys, all the zigzag stitching I could handle. Before she passed, each of her children came to see her one last time. "The scene in the forest had become for me, without my knowing it, the foundation for the real story I am now trying to tell. The fragments, you see, had to be picked up slowly, long afterwards" (59). 


     I have read Anderson's story many times. I want to write about the men and dogs in that fiction as I remember hearing them bark down the street from my grandmother's house, but this isn't the right moment. My grandmother was a writer herself, always jotting things down on bits of paper, her own thoughts, or lyrics from the radio. She liked flowers we thought were weeds; she liked sitting in the sun.


Recommended drink: Red Rose Tea, tan with milk. Re-heat in microwave only.


Source: Charters, Ann. The Story and Its Writer, an introduction to short fiction, 4th ed. Boston, MA:  Bedford Books of St. Martin's Press, 1995.

Latest essay on RadiusLit

Please check out my latest essay for Radius) From the Center to the Edge. This work focuses on "Donut Parade" by poet Laura Read from Jelly Bucket:
http://www.radiuslit.org/

The Original Money Shot: Usurping Male Power in Art and Pornography

Before trekking out to Northampton, MA for the latest show at FOE Gallery, I perused their website to see what was on view: de la calle: Ramiro Davaro-Comas, Jessica Sabogal and the ASARO Collective. I was completely struck with immediacy at the depth and power of Jessica Sabogal's "The Original Money Shot," an airbrushed work of art featuring a woman on all fours, posterier in the forefront. Other works in this show include a nude woman in pose and each one conveys extreme thought and requests emotional response. But "The Original Money Shot" struck me so deeply; it is a work that in some ways you want to examine, but do not necessarily want to be seen viewing. However, you have to find the power within yourself as a woman to absorb the meaning and there is no denying the connection to the power of our own sexuality.


The money shot is male concept: the pornographic detail of male dominance over woman, reaching his own self-pleasure on camera. Here, Sabogal's piece articulates a sexual pathology suggesting that male orgasm is not reached without the pleasure a woman gives him, but also that woman is completely capable of pleasuring herself without man; the threat of female empowerment. 


The current show is on view through May 5th, 2012. 

Why I Continue Watching AMC's The Killing

Spoiler Alert 

Since last year's season one finale of AMC's The Killing negative commentary continues to appear and according to The Hollywood Reporter ratings dropped 19% from the end of season one to season two's premiere. As a viewer I never anticipated a big reveal at the end of season one, never expected an answer to the hovering question: Who Killed Rosie Larsen?

If there is any criticism to offer on season one it is the show's ability to kill story lines.  After Bennett Ahmed was nearly beaten to death by Stan and Belko, the last we see of Bennett is Stan staring at him in the hospital. We never discover whether Bennett lives or dies (at least not that I recall); any connection between Rosie and Bennett, or Bennett's wife, a dead plot line. And by mid-season it was as if the high school no longer existed, the idea of youth is a far gone conclusion with any ties between Rosie's best friend Sterling, her ex-boyfriend Jasper, and her kindness to tweeker Kris. I keep hoping some of these youngsters will reappear during the course of season two (and we get a glimpse in episode four, Ogi Jun- thank you!). And let's not forget the investigation at the Green Street Mosque which lead Linden and Holder to 106R Renton Street, where they break in and uncover a make-shift girl's bedroom in a meat-packing plant. Will resolution eventually arise from that plot line? Yes, we did learn what purpose the space served and Bennett's role, but what happened? Regardless of these faults, the show continues to erect monumental strides in excellent storytelling. These characters are broken people, each one possessing secrets and intense moral conflict slowly coming to fruition before the viewers eyes. The show, the storytelling is worth time spent in front of the television. 

Season one moved at a much slower, more calculated pace causing realistic riffs in the stages of grief and emotional detachment: we as viewers know how Rosie died, the details of her last breaths in the trunk of a Richmond campaign car. We do not know what lead up to that point except that she was chased and before that she returned a book to Bennett Ahmed's apartment, and prior to that attended the Halloween Dance with her best friend Sterling. Stan and Mitch Larsen seem to move in slow motion as they come to bury their daughter; no emotional understanding is eminent. Each episode revealed tidbits of information about where Rosie was before she died, who she was connected to, and eventually we discover why those amazingly expensive shoes were with her in the trunk of the car. Or at least why she owned them. Season two is moving faster. The premiere returns to Belko shooting Darren Richmond, the aftermath of the shooting; once again, Sarah abandons a flight to Sonoma, drags Jack off the plane when she gets a call that the toll camera was disabled or broken; Holder's character is  completely under fire, mostly due to his inner-self realizing mistake after mistake he continues to make: his trust in Gil, a former colleague and mentor in narcotics, and also his NA sponsor basically tells Holder he's a no good tweeker with no chance of advancement, that he received his homicide badge because of Gil's connections. Belko kills himself in a quasi-hostage situation at the station. Darren is paralyzed from the waste down and so on.  Each episode thus far in season two has contained an abundance of new information regarding the Larsen case as well as character development: we've learned more about Stan's involvement in the Polish  mob and what he supposedly had to do in order to get out: murder. According Linden's FBI friend they never linked Stan to Piota, the man he may have killed. And suddenly by the end of tonight's episode we learn that conspiracy and vengeance are truly viable options in the killing of Rosie Larsen.

The Killing is an incredibly detailed story, and views like a great unraveling novella that is read with attention. Pay attention, the details continue to roll out page after page, scene after scene.It's worth the watch, worth the wait.

Menu items include coffee-to-go, Funions with nicotine gum for the ride.

Diary of a Mad Housewife by Sue Kaufman, Random House, 1967.

Before Bettina "Tina" Balser became Mrs. Jonathan Balser, she studied Art History, shared an apartment with another female artist for nearly two years until her father finally convinced that starving was no way to live regardless of their monthly lunch dates and the cash he would slip her to help out. Their father-daughter relationship is strong, so Tina takes her father's advice and moves back home, gets her 'headshrinked' where she's told her art is basically shit, takes a secretarial course to get a 'real job' and eventually meets Jonathan- an idealistic lawyer working in the District Attorney's Office.

After the birth of their first child, he leaves that position for corporate law and soon baby number two is on the way.  At the same time, Jonation makes partner in his firm, and his father dies, leaving him $90,000. And then he changes, causing everything in Tina's life to alter dramatically. Jonathan becomes a social climbing wanna-be with the New York elite, attending parties, talking with producers, writers and wealthy uptown folks that have little interest in him, but will take his money to finance theater and invest in stocks. He insists his wife keep up with 'what's happening' by reading art magazines. He requires Tina to decorate the house with real antiques and art: ""What I want is a place that is a mixture of things-antiques, but real antiques, no reproductions, the best of the modern designer's, like a Barcelona chair, only no a Barcelona chair because everybody has them, and a lot of really first-rate art-a place that has that great, rich, eclectic look..." (41-42).

As the novel builds and builds around Tina's need for pills, her growing hatred of her husband and his boring, eye-rolling requests for an 'ole roll in the hay,' her psychological push over the edge grows near. She has an affair with playwright George Prager. The sex is fantastic, but he's a prick and perhaps even more so than Jonathan. My frustration with Tina heightened with her choice of lover; she's already married to a verbally abusive man with nothing but disregard for her as a woman and a person, and she seeks 'refuge' with a man who is crude and also very controlling. As the affair continues Tina begins to break down further due to her fear of pregnancy by her lover: "Twelve days late the curse is, counting today" (281). She confronts George and he practically spits in her face telling her to see an abortionist if she's so concerned.

A major event that occurs shortly after this scene is the elevator fire in Tina's building. As she is running down the emergency stairwell she is stopped by ex-Ziegfeld girl Carrie O'Sullivan. Realizing the fire is under control, she accepts an invitation into Carrie's apartment along with some other women in the building and while there she "...became aware of the physical sensations I was having and what they meant... I'd been having a marvelous time. I dragged Folly [her poodle] away from Carrie, said goodbye to all the ladies in rollers and slacks and Brunch Coats... walked back up the two flights to our apartment and confirmed the good news" (294). Yes, her period arrived, she is not pregnant, and because of this and the 'group session' with Carrie and the women and Tina writes "... I know at last what I'm going to settle for and who I'm going to be. Who? Who is that? Why, Tabitha-Twitchit-Danvers, of course. The lady with the apron. And checklists. And keys. It's me. Oh it's very me, and I can't for the life of me see why I didn't realize that before.. I suppose, for one thing, Jonathan wouldn't let me. It hardly fits his image of what a wife of a Renaissance Man should be. Well, I've tried to be his image, tried to be a lot of things, but now I know. That's who I'm going to be, and if Jonathan doesn't like it he can lump it. Tabitha-Twitchit-Danvers-Me" (295).

Part of me wishes the novel ended there because this last paragraph is brilliant and although I 'hope' it is not so tidy an ending as many good novels do as does this one, it ends on a note that is not the end and questions whether Tina will ever be happy. Jonathan admits they are broke, had an affair and got his head-shrinked only to find out that he's the problem in their marriage. This late evening conversation between Tina and Jonathan is all about him; she decides not to confess her own affair: "Though I knew it might help him, might make him feel better about himself if I too Confessed, I decided I would never tell him about George. What for? I had nothing to gain, and everything to lose, once his brief spell of feeling better about himself was over" (305). Here, Tina is not so convinced that all her Jonathan's confessions are going to change a thing. Fresh start or not.

There is so much to discuss and consider after reading this novel:

·         Why settle on being the anxious Tom Kitten mother and dark and narrow Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca?   

·         Although my entry focuses on Tina and her husband, the relationship she maintains with her two daughters is most intriguing. They push her around and treat her with disrespect just as their father does until Tina slaps one of them across the face and the conversation between them is not of a child and mother.

Diary of a Mad Housewife is a fantastic novel. While reading it a friend asked me if I thought it would become a classic. I think it's already a feminist classic sharing ranks with The Women's Room, Handmaid's Tale, The Stepford Wives, Memoirs of an Ex-Prom Queen and many others. 

Have you read Diary of a Mad Housewife? What are your thoughts? What are you reading? Anything strike you lately? I'd love to hear about it.
Recommended dish: Waldorf Salad.