One of my favorite novels is A Thousand Acres by Jane Smiley. I am a sucker for 20th century female authors. I have read it many times and always get caught up in the story of the two eldest sisters. I identify with the relationship they have with each other, their childhood experiences, and the torment they inflict on one another. The movie isn't bad either. Last night, when I could not fall asleep yet again, I thought about how different the story would be if Ty was the narrator instead of his wife.
The plot swirls around him and he is often carried along in the tide. He reacts. When he is ultimately pushed to ask questions he doesn't fight too hard to get truthful responses. People lie to him and he apparently has no clue that some essential truth is missing. He is easily fooled and manipulated when the chips of his marriage are down. He is misled by powerful people. Ty also keeps his mouth shut when he should be howling at the moon and kicking a lot of ass. Ultimately he loses his wife and his share of the farm. Ultimately he sets out for a new life of his own choosing. But he has such an air of despondency. Ty says he doesn' know how to live this way. This ugly way. But he guesses he's going to have to get used to it.
And in the dark of last night I realized that I feel a lot like that. There's some Ty Smith in me I guess. My mother and many of my siblings have chosen to eliminate me from what I once considered my family. Like Ty, I have been swept along in the current of lies and misrepresentations. I fought as hard as I could to be heard and to get some answers, But ultimately, as more doors slammed and more emotional baggage piled up, I, like Ty, faced life the ugly way. I wasn't blind to this; I saw it coming. When a brother-in-law blackballed me on one of those social network sites I knew the battle was conclusively over. No tears this time. Just acceptance that the ugly way has been chosen and there is nothing I can ever do to have my voice heard. Like Ty, I should pack up and drive to Texas.
This morning I checked wikipedia, because that is such the perfect source for blogging, right? Smiley based the book on King Lear by the Bard himself. I was in honors English for three years in high school and minored in Literature in college. But, I swear I missed reading Lear. My summer reading list has a new entry. Mrs. McCullough, if you're out there, I could use some guidance.
The plot swirls around him and he is often carried along in the tide. He reacts. When he is ultimately pushed to ask questions he doesn't fight too hard to get truthful responses. People lie to him and he apparently has no clue that some essential truth is missing. He is easily fooled and manipulated when the chips of his marriage are down. He is misled by powerful people. Ty also keeps his mouth shut when he should be howling at the moon and kicking a lot of ass. Ultimately he loses his wife and his share of the farm. Ultimately he sets out for a new life of his own choosing. But he has such an air of despondency. Ty says he doesn' know how to live this way. This ugly way. But he guesses he's going to have to get used to it.
And in the dark of last night I realized that I feel a lot like that. There's some Ty Smith in me I guess. My mother and many of my siblings have chosen to eliminate me from what I once considered my family. Like Ty, I have been swept along in the current of lies and misrepresentations. I fought as hard as I could to be heard and to get some answers, But ultimately, as more doors slammed and more emotional baggage piled up, I, like Ty, faced life the ugly way. I wasn't blind to this; I saw it coming. When a brother-in-law blackballed me on one of those social network sites I knew the battle was conclusively over. No tears this time. Just acceptance that the ugly way has been chosen and there is nothing I can ever do to have my voice heard. Like Ty, I should pack up and drive to Texas.
This morning I checked wikipedia, because that is such the perfect source for blogging, right? Smiley based the book on King Lear by the Bard himself. I was in honors English for three years in high school and minored in Literature in college. But, I swear I missed reading Lear. My summer reading list has a new entry. Mrs. McCullough, if you're out there, I could use some guidance.
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