Griefwriting: Excerpt

Ardent readers should know that there are Austenesque e-books available for free on Amazon which I usually share on my blog's Facebook Page. That is how Joan Zlotnick's Griefwriting came to my attention last year. Fortunately, the author also contacted my blog to inform me about the publication of her novel which loosely follows the narrative arc of Pride and Prejudice. I hope you enjoy reading the following excerpt.

Excerpt

       Arthur need not have worried about losing their table. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, the crowd was thinning out. After giving the waiter her order, Dee looked around the room. It wasn't small, but the warm wood paneling, fireplace and flowers on every table gave it a cozy feeling. All in all, this was a far cry from Dee's solitary dinners at her kitchen counter. Even when she went out with her single women friends, it was always casual. They would never choose a restaurant like this, with couples at every table reminding them of what they'd lost, or, in some cases, never had.

       Dee had already asked the hardest questions, but one more remained. Sipping her wine, she resolved to frame it in a casual, even humourous, way. Then the interrogation would be over, and they could enjoy the evening like any other couple out on a date.

       "Okay, so tell me what's going on with you and Jamal. Of all the odd couples in the class, you're surely the oddest."

       Dee had expected Arthur to laugh or at least smile, but he did neither, looking instead as if he were giving serious thought to his response. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained. "I'm not sure why you say that."

       She was about to give a flippant response, accusing him of being disingenuous or, at the very least, dense, and tossing off not one but several reasons. She also thought fleetingly of voicing her suspicion that he'd taken up with Jamal in order to impress her with his new-found liberalism. But she held back, thinking, as Aaron had always advised her, before she spoke, advice she had usually shrugged off, annoyed that he was treating her like one of the children. Tonight, though, she heeded this advice. She felt as if Aaron were there, reminding her how to behave, watching out so that she wouldn't mess things up. Then, choosing her words carefully, she responded. "I just didn't expect you to take up with him the way you did. The two of you are so — so different."

       "In some sense, we're more alike than different. We both have unmet needs. For Jamal, it's someone to help him realise his potential. He's got a fine mind and a lot of talent, but, without encouragement and guidance, who knows how he'll wind up? And I need — I'm not exactly sure how to put it — to feel better about myself. I think I can accomplish that by reaching out to someone in an unselfish way."

       Dee bit her lower lip, managing to keep a snarky little smile at bay, but at the end couldn't stop herself from asking, "So what you're really saying is that you've taken Jamal on as a self-improvement project?"

       Arthur stiffened. "I'd hoped for a bit more understanding, but it's obvious that you're still trying to make me out as the villain."

       "Don't be ridiculous. All I'm saying is that you're deluding yourself about the definition of the word 'unselfish'."

       Dee wondered why she was plunging ahead this way. Was she unconsciously trying to sabotage their relationship? She had married young and, compared to most of her contemporaries, had had little experience with men. Maybe she was afraid of being with another man. Or maybe it was, as Arthur implied, because of resentments she still harboured. Perhaps it was both of those reasons.

       Arthur frowned. "I think my only delusion is that the two of us can have any kind of relationship. I'm beginning to believe that your decades-long habit of seeing me in a negative light may be unshakeable."

       Seeing the pained look on his face, Dee felt contrite. "I think it might be nothing more than my life-long habit of speaking my mind."

       "Maybe, but I doubt it." Arthur frowned. "Still, I'll try to do a better job of explaining my motives in befriending Jamal. When we're together, I don't think of it as an experiment in self-improvement. I admit it might have started off that way, but now our relationship feels natural. He devours the books I give him and is passionate about learning. He wants to go everywhere and see everything. I'm not flattering him when I tell him he's a good writer. I really believe it, and it's sad to think all this passion and talent could go to waste."

       He took a sip of wine. "In truth, it's a bit more complicated than that. You know about my guilt for having deprived Maya of a child, but I never spoke of my reasons. Yes, I was self-absorbed and set in my ways. But there was something else, my fear that, lacking good role models, I would do as dismal a job of child-rearing as my parents had. Still, I often fantasised about being a father. I don't mean to sound sentimental — or overly dramatic — but, in some ways, Jamal is the son I never had. I like that I care about someone as much as, or more, than he cares about me. It's something I've never experienced, although I always imagined you and Aaron did."

       Dee was at a loss for words. Finally, she asked, "You thought about Aaron and me? About our relationship?"

       "Many times over the years."

       "Why?"

       His voice was husky. "Because it was obvious the two of you had something that eluded me in my relationships. I would observe you together, hoping to catch on to what it was, hoping I might ..." He broke off, shocked, Dee imagined, by how much he had revealed about himself.

       She felt a surge of sadness for him and leaned over to touch his hand. "But, Arthur, I don't understand. Why us? There were other happily married couples at the college that you might have — looked to."

       "Of course there were. But what the two of you had seemed special. — I'm not sure I know how to explain it."

       Dee felt her eyes stinging. It was true. What she and Aaron had shared was special. And this man sitting across the table from her, whom she had for so long thought of as cold and unfeeling, had known it. For some reason, it seemed like a very important thing.

       She managed a tentative smile. "I'm sorry for all the awful things I ever thought or said about you."

       "You said that in the car, but it didn't take long before you started on me about Jamal."

       "I mean it, Arthur. I really do. I misjudged you all those years ago, and now, again, with Jamal. I'm also headstrong and outspoken, which, in combination with my misjudgments, must make me very hard to take."

       As Dee spoke, she could see Arthur's mood brightening, and, when she finished, he was grinning. "Is this, at long last, the Elizabeth Bennet moment I've been so eagerly anticipating?"

       "I suppose it is."

       "Might you be more specific?"

       "I could, but later. If you don't mind, I'd like to eat first." She tore into a roll. "As you can see, I'm absolutely famished."

       After dessert, they lingered at the table, the tension of the evening behind them. The restaurant was quiet, with only two other tables still occupied. Arthur ordered brandy, and between that and the wine — and her relief at having averted a disastrous outcome to the evening — Dee was obliging when Arthur once again brought up Elizabeth Bennet. Without a moment's hesitation, she began reciting from Elizabeth apology to Darcy for having misjudged his character.

       How despicably have I acted! ... I, who have always prided myself on my discernment — I, who have valued myself on my abilities! ... Had I been in love, I could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, has been my folly. ... I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away. ... Till this moment I never knew myself.

       When she finished, with a little flourish, Arthur clapped, and then they began discussing the novel in earnest. He insisted that if Darcy could be transformed from a stuffed shirt into a passable human being by Elizabeth, so could he, by Dee. They shared the view that, despite their differences in temperament, Elizabeth and Darcy were a good match, and, much to Dee's amazement, Arthur repeated, word for word, Elizabeth's explanation of the ways in which they complemented one another.

       It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both — by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgment, information and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.

       Dee was quick to respond, complimenting Arthur for his faithful rendition of the text but also pointing out the differences between her circumstances and Elizabeth's. She remarked that, on her own, she had plenty of judgement, information and knowledge of the world. She was sure that Arthur complemented her in many ways — although she needed to know him better to ascertain exactly what they were — but one thing was clear: whatever Arthur had to offer, it was of no greater importance than what she offered him.

       Dee leaned back in her chair, wondering if Arthur had ever known a woman like her and if, despite their playful bantering, he found her threatening. If so, he was managing to conceal it and seemed to be enjoying himself. They were still engaged in a lively and, she thought, flirtatious discussion of the novel when the waiter announced that the restaurant would be closing in a few minutes. All in all, she felt good about how the evening — or, rather, the latter part of it — had gone. That their date hadn't ended in the car, when she had cross-examined him about the incident with Bill Elliot, or, later in the restaurant, when she had questioned his motives in reaching out to Jamal, had been nothing short of a miracle. Had their roles been reversed, Dee doubted she would have displayed his patience and forbearance.

       On the way home, Dee realised that something had changed. Until now, it had been her habit to dismiss any but the most superficial similarities between Aaron and Arthur. She had kept a mental ledger tracking Arthur's deficiencies in relation to her husband's virtues. Tonight, it made her inexplicably happy to note that patience and forbearance were traits the two of them had in common.

Book Blurb

While this novel tells the story of the recently widowed Dee Heller, who is now teaching a griefwriting course in the New York City college from which she has recently retired, its central character is really thematic: the idea of grief. It is this which brings together a diverse group of students who seek healing after traumatic loss. They accomplish this — and much more — through therapeutic writing and interactions with one another in the classroom. Exploring the past and, in many instances, acknowledging their mistakes, they gain the self-knowledge and courage necessary to move beyond guilt and despair in order to reclaim their lives after profound loss.

Dee's students are an eclectic group. The oldest is Dee's former colleague, a renowned professor against whom she has held a grudge for many years; the youngest, an inner-city teenager whose brother was killed by the police. Despite their diversity, which often divides them, as seen in their heated arguments about racial profiling, affirmative action and sexual abuse in the military — topics recently debated in the press, Congress and the Supreme Court — their experience of grief draws them together in unexpected ways.

Against all odds, Dee finds herself attracted to a man she has long despised, believing that he attempted to undermine her efforts to get tenure many years earlier, and a relationship loosely following the narrative arc of Elizabeth Bennet's romance with Darcy in Pride and Prejudice evolves. There is the possibility of yet another unlikely romantic attachment when the selfless caregiver of three husbands admits she is not the saint she appears to be and learns that a fellow student, who abandoned his demented wife to move in with another woman, is not the scoundrel she has taken him for. Different kinds of bonds, including mentoring, are forged, and still others salvaged, most notably between a young couple whose marriage is disintegrating in the wake of their young daughter's drowning death.

The story of these griefwriters attests to the resilience of the human spirit. With its universal themes, the book holds appeal for anyone who has ever been a caregiver or lost a loved one, but it is also of interest to readers of academic novels, fans of Jane Austen, anyone following the current debates about social issues in America and all those who appreciate well-written prose.

Book Link

Kindle

Author Bio

A retired professor of English, Joan Zlotnick taught at CUNY for most of her adult life. Her publications, until recently, have been largely academic, including some two dozen articles and a book, Portrait of an American City: The Novelists' New York. Her recent work includes Griefwriting, a novel set in a therapeutic writing course, in which the plot loosely follows the trajectory of Pride and Prejudice. She has also published shorter non-fiction pieces in The Drabble, Kindness Blog, Seeds for Life and Kveller, and write a blog for Open to Hope.

Author Links

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