Page Twelve, The H-itltop, December 1C., (97b
Joy Bridges’ Book World
From. Suicide to Bisexuality to Blackmail,
BoversWoes Know No End
Lovers and Tyrants
by: Franoine du Plessix Gray
This novel depicts the life history of
Stephanie from childhood to the present
as she involves herself in the major
conflicts of a woman of today—marriage,
politics, feminism, and religion.
Each stage of her life points out
the fact that for a woman life is often
an "either-or" proposition.One can have
love or liberation,security or freedom.
As the author puts it, "The most tyran
nical despots can be the ones who love
us the most." Lovers can be tyrants.
Stephanie's first tyrant was a gover
ness who took her temperature twice a
day and confined her to bed as much as
possible in order to control her. Since
Stephanie did not attend school or play
with other children and had indifferent
parents, she was entirely at the mercy
of the governess for attention and af
fection. As Stephanie looks back it
seems to her that this governess in
stilled in her a sense of isolation
from others and an addictive need for
protection.
When World War II came, Stephanie and
her mother fled to America while her
father went off to fight for the Free
French.In the United States Stephanie's
mother worked as a hat designer and be
gan to know her daughter who had been
brought up almost as a stranger to her.
Stephanie also learned about her mother.
Her calm, aloof, poised mother screamed
every night in her sleep, remembering
her trials as a child when her father
had abandoned her during the upheaval
of the Russian Revolution, and a mother
who she hated.
During this time, Stephanie had no
word from her father. Then, through a
friend, she found out that her father
was shot down on his very first flying
mission and had been dead for a year.
Her mother had not told her because she
felt she was too young to understand.
Stephanie's feeling of being deceived
and betrayed by this withholding of the
truth only increased her feeling of iso
lation .
Stephanie endured a private school
for girls and then went to Radcliff,
after which she escaped to Paris to be
come a journalist. Her boss was an
Englishman who hated the French and
made occassionl suicide attempts in
the office. Fortunately, they were all
failures, such as the time he tried to
hang himself by jumping off a stack of
telephone books but only achieved a
very sore throat.
Paris could be a very lonely city for
an outsider so Stephanie fell into an
affair with a melodramatic, impoverish
ed descendent of Napoleon. She knew
that eventually he would marry a girl
that his family selected for him. Her
family wanted his title and he wanted
her family's money. Stephanie knew that
he was despicable, but at least he was
not boring like her lover from her col
lege days, Paul, who showed up every
once
■iteiJ
three months—proposed marriage
again—and then faints IPaul represen
safety to her and she really did not
want safety, at least not quite yet-
("Oh, save me God, but not quite yet/
as St. Augustine put it.) Stephanie
^auli
Th
Ar
realized that Paul was using emotion
al
blackmail—that the security he was of
fering was a form of oppression.
Stephanie fell ill and broke up wit^
her impoverished, snobbish prince in ®
loud scene in which she told him exact
ly what she thought of him, in excruci
ating detail. He later married hi®
heiress but still sent Stephanie senti
mental letters on her birthday.
Stephanie returned to the Unit®
States and married Paul,and it was jn®
as safe and boring and predictable
aS
she knew it would be. Stephanie
the fifties being the perfect wife
mother and going quite crazy. She kep
dreaming that she was a spinster
wanted a home and a family.
By the time the sixties had arrive®'
Stephanie had managed to have a
down, a hysterectomy, a separation ft®
Paul, and a young bisexual lover. ® ^
turned her back on domesticity
sought adventure and self-discoveiV
Stephanie reached a point in her 1®-
lie
the
,1‘5
Worst tyrants but that they co® ^
not do it alone. No one can make ,
one feel inferior without one's own P
Xe®
mission. Freedom comes when one ta^
responsibility for one's own life.
Jill Adams: Spinal Column
Christmas: Lists,Gifts,and Zelda Lou
In the past, the Spinal Column has
been satirical, derogatory,undignified,
foul, contemptible, corrupt and a host
of other degrading things. But, since
Santa Claus is coming to town, and
Rudolph is coming to T.V., I have got
to start being a, good girl(as soon as I
finish this column). Thus, I've decided
to change my outlook on life, to suc
cumb to tlie "Xmas Spirit",let the spir
itual beauty of the season guide me
through the coming days, and, oh yes,
stop beating on my roommate. After all,
I have something to live for (seeing
Santa burn his posterior when he slides
4own the chimney), and I am glad to be
alive (because I might just get a car
for Christmas).
Christmas is a truly wonderful time
of the year. The spirit of giving (and
the hope of receiving) overwhelms the
soul, warms the heart, and bounces the
checkbook. Personally, I can't wait to
make my list; and broswing through the
stores is such a delight, especially
when I'm with someone who is shopping
for me.
I hope that when I return home, there
will be a great reception awarded me—
the "Prodigal Daughter". What I surmise
is that my family will stop whatever
they're doing long enough to mutter,
"What are you doing here?"
Of course, home is the place to be
for the holidays. Warmth is generated
by the enjoyment of being with one's
loved ones. Decorating the tree, baking
goodies, wrapping presents, singing
Xmas carols, and family arguments are
always so much fun (especially when you
win the arguments).
I can't wait 'til Xmas morning, when
we all gather around the Xmas tree and
fight about what belongs to who. A sam
ple: "#%@*, I'm the one who asked for a
watch, so it belongs to mel", I scream
at my sister. She replies, "Well then,
if it's yours, what's it doing in my
stocking?", and so on.
•Later in the day, when aunts and
uncles and cousins and in-laws and
ond cousins once removed and boyfri®’^
and girlfriends of cousins and
Zel® ,
ninth husband of my crazy aunt.
Lou, are sitting at the table that ^
longed to my great-great-grandfathet
un®"^
pre-Civil War days, my crazy
Beauregard (though not quite as
as Aunt Zelda Loii)' will propose a t®^^^
of iced tea (we are devout South® .
Baptists)
season,"
to Xmas.
"To the wondet^’^
he will say.
u®
"that brings
together, spiritually, as well as
ically. To the love that binds us
ing the Cliristmas season, and throw^^
out the entire year. To the joy that
feel, and the special happiness that
share at Christmas, and to our won®
ful family with which we share our h
shall
fume
we raise
over pres®^^^;
and the argument I
piness. With that,
glasses," and as I
I didn't get
last night, I raise my glass,
"... to our wonderful family at
wonderful time of the year...."
t®
to°'