#Haiku: Autumn
Shadow side
Of summer
Entropy’s reminder.
Regret
Doubles down
Category: #DreamTherapy
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The Book of You – Haiku Diary by Alysse Aallyn
#Haiku: End of Summer
Coupled –
Locked-in;
Enclosed;
Your breath;
My body
Our future
Nirvana.
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Haiku Diary of Alysse Aallyn
#Haiku: Ego
Pry:
Beneath Eye:
Compare
My Shy
Inside
To your
Wry outside. Cry.
Why?
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Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
Party Castle – 3 Feb 79 11:30 AM
We did it – moved into the Queens Chapel Road house though nothing is organized yet. My study is the nicest room in the house – a whole wall of huge windows – sunlight always blazing in. I covered the walls with my pictures and they fit perfectly – leaving one wall empty for a big corkboard.
Guess who showed up to help us move? Ryder!
He brought his “girlfriend”, plus a huge bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken and a large bottle of Irish Mist. Girlfriend a shocker – little nursy mousebird of a woman! After all the hell he gave me, this is who he ends up with.
His sexual revolution is over – single shot fired.
Went to see Corio play at Childe Harolde – he acted surprised to see me – introduced me to his date, Bev. I didn’t feel Bev is much of a threat – Avril says, “She’s a hot water bottle.” I said, “I’m not giving up”. Zachary didn’t help move – so when he showed up for sex I sent him away.
I was really annoyed – his excuse was he “wasn’t up to it.” Who is? Fortunately,
I have strong muscles. Carried a gold velvet sofa practically on my head.
Mon 5 Feb 79
Moments of pure joy while painting my bedroom shelves.
So adoring Sylvia Plath. Closer Look at Ariel & Letters. Her letters burst with plans, lists & preparations – like this diary. That’s how it goes. Feeling capable, independent – maybe strong enough to even rewrite Gift. There is pleasure to be had even at the start of a journey with no apparent end in sight. Back on my Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner diet. Feel house will be ready Sunday. Party?
8 Feb 79 Plush Palace
Surprise today – Usher Glayne came in to see me
dance. Curtsied low and slow. I felt intimidated by him but he said he liked poem I sent. Struggling with Boston Adventure – Me no likey.
I’m on p. 300 of Gift and if there’s a novel in this mess I can’t find it.
8PM Mon night 12 Feb 79
Snowed all night – didn’t feel guilty about calling the Plush Palace and saying I couldn’t make it. Used the time well – finished my study. It is perfect. Bedroom almost done – must unscramble my jewelry to put it away. Great having laundry in-house – I am washing all my costumes.
I give up on Boston Adventure. To think a critic compared her to the Brontës.
Well they did have under-functioning ovaries and the English language in common. Marc called – he will be in town and wants to have lunch at the Capitol. Which I would love to do. Told him I took his advice and bought a house. Roll my eyes while he complains about his horrible life investing other people’s money.
Maureen is never here so we hardly see her. And
she’s very neat, so far sharing a bathroom is no problem. Recovering
from my bout of restlessness over Gift, I managed two pages. But it was too hot to work up here last night (I can’t seem to control the temp.) Tomorrow buy fan.
Usher called. He wants to be “friends”.
Queens Chapel Rd – Wed 14 Feb 79
At last a comment from an agent who likes Blood Memory (latest incarnation of Gift). We now have one agent who likes it, one who didn’t, one close relative who likes it and two who didn’t, one lover who likes it (and two who didn’t.) I wish she would start a “sell job” with me but she’s just “dying to talk with me about it.” In other words, she wants to know, how crazy ARE you? Sadly, it depends on the day of the week.
Avril just phoned – invited me downstairs for an omelet.
I said no. Fasting today. (I like being somewhere the kitchen is not.) Later we’ll go out and try to find a pair of emerald pants for me to see my new agent in.
This is one of the ways Avril and I make do with living together – we respect each other’s privacy.
Yesterday at work who should be second dancer but Yvonne! We had so much fun catching up. She’s still dancing at Mother Joe’s, but needs all the work she can get. I feel a perverse satisfaction in the fact that even amazingly talented, flaming beauties can’t seem to struggle out of life’s junk pile. Her ex, whom she quit dancing for, went out with an “all nude” dancer the night after they broke up! A friend of Ryder’s came into the bar –
I pretended not to recognize him. I’m sure he’ll be running back with the story.
Dreamed I had open lesions in my face and you could see right through them.
Reading Greene’s The Human Factor.
2 PM 15 Feb 79 – Thurs
Sleeting out. Feeling restless the way I do before I write a new book. Hauled out Bride & Wolves for a rewrite – tremendously impressed with my own talent! Development always was my problem (as in life).
Greene’s Human has an odd, unfinished feel. Reviews did not prepare me for it in the least. I think they reviewed Greene rather than his book. More impressed by Margot Ruddock’s letter to Yeats in Ah, Sweet Dancer (which could be retitled Dirty Old Man.) She compares the “fickleness” of men to the fickleness of God! Can’t blame her if God insists on being male. Read Howatch’s Call In the Night as a purgative. Going to see Country Wife tonight at U. Of Md.
Usher sent me strange Valentine collage of Playboy photos, couples kissing, etc.
Avril says “I give up on him. It’ll be a miracle if he can ever say what he wants.”
Starlight Sat 18 Feb 79 – 11:10 AM
Waiting for my bangs to curl at the start of a
double. Had a nightmare where Devon performed marriage ceremony between me and some other guy! Right up to the end I kept thinking he was going to “rescue” me. Naturally he did not.
“Psychic” about him as usual, I got a letter saying he’s busy with this year’s Ladies Ski Team meaning he’s got 12 girls passionately in love with him and he plans to take his time to savor the field.
Vengeful poem results:
Cloverleaf
Some roads lead nowhere;
They’re my favorites.
I held my breath while
You drew my face in
Blinding strokes
Creamed my mouth with curling lines
Destroyed one picture; then another.
You
Left at dawn while I
Ran in circles, calling
Raging, spending
Nights & time
Without you,
No blue thigh guards
My sleeping heart while you – alertly
Gauge the coming storm.
Trapped in cloverleaves , I’m
Sentenced to perform
School figures endlessly
Disputed by a myriad angry judges.
Every face I paint
Resembles you; balked by
Our enervating past
Of unlived lives I
Open up the chilly ruffles
Of my breasts
To beauty; yours
And mine and your
Strange spine’s;
A body so much lighter
Than the mountain that you loved –
The course you learned
Much better than you learned me.
Overconfident as always
I tell myself that
you’ll come back &
Float across the powdered snow
In bird-winged silence –
all-enveloping
Unrepentant
Lost and frozen like my heart.
2 PM – Jervaze came into the club! Ducked away momentarily from his fiancée. Glad he didn’t bring her in as I am having my period and feeling particularly fat and grumpy. My poor body’s been unloved for a month now and is falling to pieces. Still it was an enormous pleasure to see him. Someone for whom I apparently remain The Holy Grail.
Tues. 6:45 PM 20 Feb 79
Struggling against a vast undifferentiated depression.
Going to treat it with diet and meditation. Reading Tapie’s Richelieu and Louis XIII.
History a great cure for all who feel unlucky. Even being an aristo was no picnic. Avril accepted for both of us to go to Aunt Frederica’s party on the shore where she’s rented a house. Hitchman’s bio of Dorothy Sayers very bad book. Sayers wasn’t “in love” with Lord Peter, she was him!
Will-to-power and dream logic. Trying to “bind” her two halves together when she made him marry Harriet. Had to re-read Sayers’ wonderful
Unnatural Death (my favorite) to get the taste out of my mouth. Ah. Such pleasure. Painting till I’m exhausted then long walks with dogs through pretty Queens’ Chapel Manor. Haven’t voyeured a neighborhood this satisfying since Chevy Chase.
Starlight Wed 21 Feb 79 – 11:45 AM
Going through a phase where work feels like
being beaten. Think it’s because no one is caring for my body. Will warmer
weather turn the tide? I love my house but Marc Kramer is wrong – home ownership NOT the cure-all promised. The only difference I can see is I can no longer mess around financially. Nose permanently to grindstone.
Reading John Dickson Carr’s Blind Barber. It is so awful. Why does anyone like him? Pass my time sewing red rhinestone buttons to my pink satin blouse. Yesterday clutch cable snapped – pedal became a dummy. Fortunately I was right NEXT to a gas station. Had to take a taxi home. Damn Fiat. Financial nightmare – more doubles to get my car out of hock? Turns out it’s not expensive. A. gives me ride to work, Eddy gives me ride to car.
Leaning heavily on inner life. Efforts to live “outwardly” all seemingly result in hideous failure. Shopping list: pasties, carpet tape, stockings, cotton balls, liquid plumber, string bikini.
Sat. 24 Feb 79
Devon turned 30 today. Great house party at bungalow Aunt F rented on Mulberry Island. Interesting artist named Stockley there with an exciting mind but unworkable body. Fun to talk to though. He wears a hard hat and welds sculpture. Avril asked out by handsome redhead named John.
Fingers crossed. Jervaze called to say he broke off his engagement. Uh oh.
Macmillan says my novel “not their cup of tea”. Very sneery.
Starlight Fri 2 Mar 79 – 2 PM
Bought a pair of yellow overalls to write in. Hadn’t realized how thin I’ve gotten – I look fantastic. House closing magically lifts depression when it cost $900 less than I expected. I was fully ready to write these nice people a rubber check – Thank God that’s not necessary.
Instead of wasting away in debtor’s prison, I get to compare myself to Sylvia Plath. What if in a panic, I married a party boy who fails to cherish The Real Me? Wait, I did that. But I didn’t stay to wrestle with him and now I’m free.
Could be much, much worse. Hang in there and go it alone. See it as a strength.
Trying to apply for grants. There’s an art form all by itself. Avril’s redhead working out nicely. I don’t like his comments about his mother though. Is satisfactory sex possible with men who hate their mothers? Could be massive Red Flag.
12:35 PM Tues Mar 6 – 79
Sit down to chat with diary over lunch – can’t eat
because scolding letter from agent gave me a stomachache. Didn’t I know it was
unethical to allow several agents to consider me at the same time? I do see it’s a very beneficial for the agents to drag this process out so they end up doing all the choosing and not you. But since she’s the one I want I can’t say so.
Play dumb, promise to Be Good in Future and throw my affairs entirely into her hands and let her speak for me. Silence frees the artist from “servile
bondage to the world”, says Sontag.
Letter from Devon saying he really respects me for buying a house (the opposite of what Mom thought would happen. He says it makes me more interesting. Or he’s just less scared I will show up on his doorstep.) Also, he says “it’s been a bad ski season” and asking particularly about the men in my life, closing, ”I love you Alysse. Our relationship is the most important thing to me.”
Whew! What are the odds that every girl on that ski team would turn out to be a lesbian? Or were they chilled by his aura of untouchable purity? Most girls would consider it a challenge but some lack the stamina necessary to defrost him. Still, they’re all out of their minds not to give him a whirl I must admit. Interesting how very much we each fear the other’s loss.
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Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
Chevy Chase, MD – 10:15 PM Thurs 8 Sept.
At Shoulder’s house. Not a bad drive down – (washing the dogs right before the ferry (I had to – they stank) put some time pressure on me – but I made the ferry anyway. Shoulders looks different – has a moustache. Talks about needing a roommate – does he mean me? He doesn’t know where yet and I don’t want to live with him. His constant string of ignorant pickups would eventually get me down.
He doesn’t mention Ryder and I don’t look up his TV show.
Promising stuff in the classifieds – a garden apt in Landover, a townhouse in Dale City, sharing a house in Kensington. Took the dogs on the old walk – they remembered the route. Huge construction at my old house.
L’Escargot closed.
5 PM Sept 9
Kensington House hopeless. You have to join some
kind of food co-op that’s like a cult religion and there’s a huge emphasis on kitchen and cooking duties. They all eat together. Seems like the worst of college and boarding school to me. I’m now sitting in a real estate office which is really a garage waiting for a guy who’s already an hour late. He’ll be here in 10 mins they say, then he’s going away for 2 weeks so I hope he will want to close the deal tonight, It’s described as an old apartment, high ceilings, fireplace. $210 a month. So I’m just praying the neighborhood’s not too bad.
7:00 PM
Bleak. Too bleak. Tried to imagine myself doing my
exercises on that floor, standing in that kitchen waiting for water to boil, etc. Couldn’t manage. Feeling very stressed. Do I even want to live in this city? It’s just that I know I can easily make a living if the
book doesn’t take off. Went to the library and loaded up on Agatha Christies to help handle the strain. It works. Maybe I need to get a shag haircut and spend the winter in Spain. Now why don’t I do that, other than the obvious reason I can’t afford it and have already missed my dogs as much as I ever want to. Another guy says he has half of a house I might want. With a fenced in yard.
8:15 AM Wed 14 September – Powder Mill Road
Drinking coffee in my own kitchen from the mug that
was my present to myself last morning on the island. The guy is
selling this house as a rental property and was amazingly cavalier –
needed a tenant – didn’t look up my refs or demand cosigner.
Absolutely cool when I described myself as a ”writer” so “dancer”
remains beneath the radar. (Dad would say that proves I know
dancing’s “bad”! I refuse to be unsafe just to convince my own father I’m respect-worthy.)
Yesterday very full day. Got up at 8 and moved
the dogs to their fenced in yard. Fetched the truck, loaded and
unloaded with Shoulders’ help – bookcases, boxes, mattress,
desk, sofa – had truck back by 3. A thousand robins on the weed-grown lawn. I wonder how long I will be looking at this peaceful green view.
8:30 AM Thurs Sept 15 1977
Up early spending the last of my money on necessaries – hardware, lampshades, contact paper.
Fri 16 September 1977
My books arrived at Larry’s! I spent the morning sending them out. Then drove to the Landover Mall, bought two g-strings and pasties and off to the Plush Palace. Steve was there – (Randy the bouncer just hired) thrilled to see me.
Wanted to know where I’d been but I turned that easily away. Vacay! Who wouldn’t! Told me to come to work Saturday night and they’d give me my schedule. So that’s settled. I don’t like trying to live without money. Took the landlord my paint color selection – he buys the paint and I do the work. Probably will take me the next week. Every now and then am attacked by that claustrophobic feeling of restlessness and purposelessness but I am able to keep it at philosophical bay. Working at my poem index made me feel strong and soothed.
Called Chloe to see if I can get on the radio – she was excited to hear from me, but unfortunately gave Erika the Pest my number. Erika called – I was nervous that she wanted me to rewrite her manuscripts, but she just invited me to breakfast. After that she has another appointment so she can’t swallow up my day. Letter from Avril saying she is coming end of Oct.
10:15 PM Sat 17 Sept 77 – The Plush Palace, Alexandria Virginia
Ego lift. Nothing’s changed. I’m still the best dancer in the place. Four dancers on and I know two of them. The gossip, the Costume exchange, the curling irons, the dope in the dressing room – it’s all coming back to me. They’ve introduced some weird rules, like customers get to play the music, but it’s still a fun and relaxed place to be. Steve the floor manager says I can have all the work I want so I might be able to put money away.
Sun 18 Sept 77
Opal comes to over to say “hi” but really to complain about her incipient divorce. Not the best company. Not the best climate for me either – I found myself sobbing over Ryder (fortunately was alone by then). Why does it seem a lost paradise? So I can still get into that sort of mood.
Nice phone call with Mom and dad, not too pressured. They are coming to a boatyard in Annapolis to look at a boat – will see me then. One of the best things about this house is the month-to month lease. Feel I can leave any time but if I behave well they won’t kick me out. Gorgeous location but forty-five minute highway commute to The Plush Palace. Still wish I could live in Virginia.
Wed AM 20 Sept 77 Sent out a ton of poems. Replied to a woman who wants pieces for an anthology. Got a beautiful love-letter from Devon! His usual length – both sides of one page. Talked about how much fun we had in August, dressing up and going out and “afterwards…!” Made me smile. I said to hell with money and called Avril because I wanted to share – Mason is not there during the day. She is in a bad place. Providential I called. He has taken to staying out at night without explanation – she is frantic. Thank God she is coming here. I told Randy since I’m your best dancer, how about a raise. He gave me one! Only flaw to this house – they need to fix hot water. I had to heat water to wash my hair. Bought 2 more costumes bringing my total up to six – the bare minimum I’d say
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Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
2PM Sun 14 Aug 77
Sitting on the deck even though it’s just about to rain –
back from long bike ride watching family barbecues. Will I ever have children? I feel so exactly balanced between Ryder and Devon like a ball in the air
– but could fall at any moment. Finished The Edwardians – made me long to read Trollope. Vita Sackville-West’s work is like a death wish.
Maybe Pevensey Library can rise to some Trollope. Downy woodpecker
2 ft away.
Finished The Dark Island! An outrageous howl of
self-pity! Mom & Dad called all worried about Avril. She & Mason had to borrow money after selling $4500 worth of stock in June! Dad wants to deal financially with Mason instead of his own daughter! I was cool and stayed out of it.
I don’t even want to imagine what they say to the others about me. I sent Avril a letter that said I would buy her a round trip plane ticket any time she wanted – even for just a short visit. Talk about work and suffering! I’m sure she feels stuck in every way with this guy. Down to a dinner of bouillon & smoked oysters.
Tues 16 Aug 77
D’s & my relationship “plateaus.” Each of us may have
given all we can spare. At least there’s no Mutual Punishment.
Womantried to get me into conversation at mailboxes – she’s an accountant whose boyfriend works on missiles. God they both sounded like the dullest people imaginable. Tried not to blanche.
6:00 PM Couldn’t resist $10 phone call to Avril. She’s
hanging in there but doesn’t like Calif so far. She’s not going to school because Mason thinks he ought to be able to pay for it! So, so sick after using her money to live on. She’s looking for some clerk job. Still thinks
this guy might be The One, even though sex is once a week and she’s not satisfied. After that I called Devon who should be back from psychomotor class but he wasn’t in.
Midnight – Could get psychotic about D not returning my call – however I refuse. Let the poor man live. He lacks time for an ACTUAL other girl (although I know there are plenty of letters & phone calls with girls he cultivates.)
10AM – Wed 17 Aug 77
Devon woke me up in the middle of the night, wondering if I was “psychic”. He’d had a horrible day – had to take a “pregnant friend” to the clinic for abortion (not his kid.) This is a new one. Can’t imagine him lying about something so bizarre – I didn’t ask for details –
just told him it was a “sudden impulse” (true). Called the bank – my money was in but only $987 (it’s never as much as you expect.) From shit comes flowers, as they say. Called Marc Kramer and left message whether I can hitch a ride to Maine with him (he goes almost every weekend).
Finished Life of Waugh. Cramps.
Sat 20 Aug 77
Poor Devon! He brought pizza and a very good brandy –
(too good – drinking it woke me up in the middle of the night) suggested a movie. I said I wanted to Talk. Told him all about my week; everything –
novel, phone call with Avril, breaking up (mentally) with Ryder because I “realized there’s another way”. Felt it was time to share. He asked if it had anything to do with him I said it did but he shouldn’t panic – it’s a good thing. He asked did I want to know about other girls? I said yes. Would I be jealous?
Maybe – but it wouldn’t impact on him. He talked about his friend who had the abortion – she’s ready to take him on but his feelings for her are “clinical”.
(Uh oh. She’s in trouble. He could be lying to me about Who’s the Daddy or lying to himself, most like.) She’s 2 yrs older than him.
Then there’s a girl he met on the train – they’re just friends so far so he doesn’t know her well – but he’s curious. Then there’s the English girl – he definitely wants to bring her over but neither of them can afford it so far. He seems to have a sex/romance dichotomy going so
I’m not jealous exactly – it would be like being jealous of someone’s fantasies. However, it doesn’t make me respect him more. And he instinctively knows that – he can’t be the daring demon lover or swaggering ski coach
with me when I know too much about him. Fortunately, I suggested we bring the mattress up to the deck – we had a big, hilarious struggle through the house but it was worth it. Wonderful making love in the fresh night.
Gave him the full treatment making him yelp like a coyote.
Cold in the AM like Maine – hard to get out of bed but he was worried someone would see us so we had to push mattress through
sliding doors to dining room floor at 6 AM. Layers of secret lives! He is SO DIFFERENT from the way he seems but aren’t we all! Drove to the Idyllwild Mkt for breakfast – got lost as least six times but who cares it’s a glorious day – bought peaches, blueberries and mocha java beans.
Then we went swimming – stopping after at the mailbox. Rejection of Secaire from HBJ! What a blow and in front of Devon of all people!
Worst of all was editor’s comment – I had fallen between 2 stools – “straight” and “gothic.” Ugh. Lowers my opinion of myself in my own eyes.
Fortunately, I didn’t cry.
Devon did his best to comfort me. He compares it to
skiing which is 4,000 failures to one success. Said it’s ridiculous to consider myself a failure. I thanked him said he really cheered me up –
he said it made him look forward to ministry!!! (He can’t wait to get his hands on some “troubled young women”.) He’s going to a 3 day
retreat at Peterborough. Period coming on. It doesn’t faze Devon. Reading Harold Nicolson’s diaries which are quite a treat. I was afraid he would
be all Churchillian.
2;30 PM Mon 22 Aug 77
Can’t write, so ready to return to Maine. So desperate I
watched TV (Rhoda: Apotheosis of the Career Girl). Feeling crushed about Secaire and Demon is not far behind. When your mind is divided it’s hard to go on. I always feel genre works actually have the potential for highest dramatic quality – mystery, discovery, transformation, revelation – telling the complete truth about everything but I just don’t know how to convey that. Also, I’m kind of worried that Devon will see my departure as “because” we punctured the fantasy with honesty ; ie I’m “punishing” him –
(that’s what Ryder would think, plus he would howl “I deserve it” then behave even worse) and of course it sort of is true . “New data” does affect everything. But I miss the dogs & worry about them. Dad has yet to figure out their gender (calls them both “boy”).
Went clothes shopping got GOREGOUS skinny jeans!
Look so good. Called Devon but had to leave an awkward message with Random Guy (ugh I hate that.) Thank God for diaries! Best therapy
possible. So much cheaper than a shrink. Diagnosis? Sheer greed. I always want everything.
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Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
7PM – Sat 23 July 77
Devon and I went for a long walk today, had a great
talk. He told me all about his passionate relationship with
English girl – asking “Do you really want to know?” I did – I managed to
be very hands off. Said he’d written her “lyrical love-letters” and
she is saving money to come to US at Christmas.
Bit of a downer to find other people have split
minds like me. I told him a little about Ryder and even more about my husband. I had to hope he wouldn’t see it “retaliation” for what he’d told me. (R would have.) Fantasies can be ugly if they prevent you from experiencing reality.
We hugged – he left – I know he thinks I’m too
“intense”. I was stupid enough to read him my peach poem. On
the other hand, if a guy can’t handle my poetry where am I? R only likes poems he knows are about him.
Wrote a whiny letter to Avril (who usually can handle
whiny letters). Good today – bike, swimming, plus my walk with D. Long letter to Mom and Dad.
Reading Stella Gibbons’ Cold Comfort Farm –
can’t stay grumpy – laughing too hard. Settling into my spaceship –
my own body – first day of the rest of my life. Listening to wonderfully crazy modern opera on the radio.
Sun 24 July 77
4PM
Wrote 4 pages of A Demon Roused. Horribly
dissatisfied. Patricia Highsmith on the suspense novel no damn
help at all. Everything I’ve ever written pure dunder written by a
dunderhead. Restrained myself from calling Ryder to yell at him.
Face facts. Left DC June 4. This coming
month has to be gotten through. Feel I my “breakdown” I suffered last spring was a crisis of identity. Attacked by the writing thing
(no money, no approval, no relationships) attacked by the relationship thing (R too critical, wanting to “change” me.) Starving myself. Long mad midnight walks rampaging thru Chevy Chase with dogs. The ENDLESS Devon situation only explicable when seen in this light.
(He’s TOO good looking – too much fantasy.)
Now about my book. New beginning ALL wrong and
I couldn’t figure out why. The characters seem alive.
- First Person Difficult. My husband always said
- omniscient narrator no longer possible, making
- me want to do it. However, I have to admit you
- need to be somebody – an extra character and that’s a
- bigger pain in the neck.
2) Scene Problematic. I’ve GOT to get these people out of England.
It’s artificial. How about if I don’t say where it is? Will the specificity cops come after me?
3) Format (Suspense novel) rough because I have to be
the one who knows what’s going on and I want to write my first draft in a narcoleptic state. Means I have to be happy making a huge ness with a million
false starts and then write the thing ALL OVER when I know what’s going on.
But I feel time running out on me. Goddam it.
I should be happy to explore. Why all this pressure? Two novels unaccepted, why write a fourth? Am I deliberately trying to drive myself to the
brink of insanity? Also I HATE Sunday because the pool is packed, no stores are open, and there’s no mail.
Devon and his roommates Blair & Brian drop by and I
struggle to appear sane. Hard for me.
6PM
Called R. to yell at him. He wasn’t there – thank GOD.
Maybe I just want to punish him. He certainly deserves it.
1:30 PM Mon 25 July 77
Dark night of the soul finally over. Very athletic today –
feel deliciously tired. Decide I should go back to Washington no
matter what. My choices are my choices. My happiness can’t be dependent on how people treat me. I plan to use my time to become powerful – to be the person I’m supposed to be. In the drugstore line I was reading up on the showbiz personalities – nobody interesting before 30 and I have a few years yet.
Forget about weight – just follow & learn to love
“virtuous routine”. (I’m a size seven – that’s pretty good.) Today it
POURED rain – night baseball Devon wanted to attend out of the
question. He suggested we switch to a movie when he called this am.
Still feel stilted with him unfortunately.
Assault on library. Planning to ransack the place.
Leafed through Helen Hayes (poor woman); enjoying Thurber’s
My World and Welcome To It .
Tues. 26 July 77 9:40 AM
Sitting on stonewall in full sunlight in my black bikini
waiting for pool to open. Swim and sunbathe till ll:30 when mail comes.
After 7 pm I can return – that way I miss the crowds.
Exercise, coffee, 3 glasses water. The Regime.
I’m down to $4. Embarrassing to be taken out last night
by Devon & his roommates. (We saw Star Wars. Childish, but they were into it.) Sent letter to Mom & D asking for stock certificates. They
won’t like it.
Dinner should have been nice but barbecue very messy.
Wore my tightest jeans and my pink French “Trés chic” t-shirt. Devon surprised me by talking on and on about how beautiful I am. Started to get stoked – in fact I was horny as hell. I would have taken the three seminary students on if I could have avoided the interpersonal madness that would result. They all have beautifully athletic bodies. But I’m starting to get a feeling that if I just sit in my deer blind a bit longer Devon will come to me.
Every now and then I get a bad “Ryder – flashback”, like some synaptic slipup. What will I think of this years from now? Mirror images ache, then fade.
Cold Comfort Farm exactly 100 pages too long (but I
think most books are). Take a long hot Jean Nate bubble bath and read The Thornbirds.
2:30 PM Wed July 27 – 77
Masturbation is the better part of valor. Don’t make
decisions ruled by sex. Bike ride combined with cold shower doesn’t work.
Must husband my wattage (joke). Too bad sex is
such a fast way to get to know someone.
First draft of Demon so far bony and spare. Neatly
boxed “components” = “write your own novel”. Trying to exterminate “dead” patches. Wish I had done this with The Mass at St. Secaire –
but in those days I was in the “throw in everything you think of and
take it out later” school. I like constructing this awkward armature better. Lean and mean superior to flagellate and winnow.
Will I ever let Ryder see my new body, my new confidence?
He will hang on for dear life and I don’t want that. I want to go back to dancing but Ryder prefers I have neither security NOR money.) Think I’ll look for a sublet – easier to impress a private owner than a credit union.
I prefer living alone. Painstaking cultivation of intense privacy in the midst of a crowd has always been my forte.
Mom and Dad called – acting all worried. Apologizing
for giving Ryder my number. I put on a good show of being completely ”over” him but I can see they don’t want me moving back to Washington and prefer Mrs. Duvall’s ski chalet option. (My cynical side tells me it’s just cheaper.) I act like I have connections to the literary life in DC and they don’t know any better.
Thornbirds is teaching me the great unpleasantness of
what publishers define as “a good read”. Contrary to my previous belief unfortunately the Victorian period has not ended. Forced to skip the war, potted history and scenery descriptions just to keep going.
7:30 PM Finished Thornbirds. Neither Dane’s death nor Justine’s love affair rang true for me. Uh oh. Danger signs. My taste thoroughly out of kilter with the market.
Couldn’t swim – 3,000 spectators at some sort of race
in the pool. So went to library – checked out twelve books – bio, history murder mysteries. Alec Waugh, Somerset Maugham, Vyvyan Holland, –
Hugh Walpole. Evelyn Waugh, of course. At this very moment R is
doing his very last show of 7:30 Live. Will they have a party or wake?
Probably go out drinking at the Shalimar, try to pick up dancers he can hector and assault. Time for me to go walking and see how the other (99%) live.
HOT PROWL
Don’t wake up.
I surveil by night
Your chiseled torso
Slacken with exhaustion.
Touching things that once
You touched,
Listing to your apnea –
I turn away before you turn.
Making peace with all my choices.
It’s worth everything;
Winning in divorce a
Hard-won superpower:
Invisibility
2:45 PM Thurs 28 July 77
Loving myself today. I am very tan. Hair strawberry
blond and my stretchmarks look like silk moiré. Any sense of inadequacy must be pounced upon and shored up – work like a beaver at his dam.
No worries, few fears. Daddy sent $ which I deposit in my acct. Since I can’t cash a check anywhere I eat what’s here; pickled beets and plain grits. Gallons of water to even it all out. Shake the old body out after 26 years.
Decide two people create love – I refuse to do it alone.
Reading Ford Madox Ford and grooving on his Violet versus Elsie
problems. Schadenfreude. Years later poor Elsie says, “I should have ignored everybody and divorced him.” Alas, Ford is a self-centered fool.
Not a simpatico character. However the period is a favorite with me. Mail hideously dull. Nothing from Harcourt. Will my “Westerns” editor have thenerve to turn down an author they’ve got 105,000 copies of? Yes. They’re all a bunch of weenies, frankly. Bike ride.
8:45 PM Finished article for the McManus mag about
Shadowe – “Island in Common” – 750 words – sent it off with letter.
Mission accomplished. Thinking of substituting a night ride for my walk.
Triggers fewer yearnings.
Ford’s moved to the US and I’m at the end of my tether with him. Tried
reading Jane Novak’s Razor Edge of Balance on V. Woolf – but she’s no threat –
– Lingo Academico virtually impenetrable.
Loved reading Fowles on the Fr Lt’s Woman – even though he has a “tin ear” about the Victorians – their “failure” to depict “a man and woman in bed together” ! (How about My Secret Life!!!) He’s the real thing all right even though he launched 1st draft without any research. (It shows.)
I’m going to stop freaking out about how little I know London.
Full of joy & life & strength & immortality & pep. Now thinking fondly of DC. Resist the impulse to call myself a turkey for even MENTIONING living together to R. (I said in my phone message I had to have a house for dogs.)
I can see him crying over his beer at the strip club. Insisting his wussdom is independence. I feel and look mighty thin – but refuse the temptation to weigh
myself. Size seven is good enough. Took my walk looking indulgently at couples with children thinking, “This too is within my reach.”
Mail full of dull rejections NO interest or acceptances. But the UNITY MITFORD I’d ordered came which I’m reading now. Must write about sisters someday. It’s a trip.
11:12 AM Sat 30 Jul 77
Going out tonight with Devon to see Annie Hall, that laff riot he hasn’t seen. This is one of the things I love about life – it’s so unpredictable! Give these guys space to stew they will eventually DO something. We had a nice phone conversation. I can tell he has “traumatized” himself by thinking he “lured” me fruitlessly here. I tell him hardly, I’m writing 8 p. a day (of course it will all have to be thrown out) getting a tan and reading piles of books. (All true.) Too cold & overcast today for pool though and now its raining.
Starting to get a feeling D and I will end up in bed.
It’s inevitable. How I crave that tight young flesh…Bet you $5. Will
wear my faded cerise linen jumpsuit, high heels and Nefertiti necklace.
Stoking!
4:15 PM Sun 31 July 77 Deck
Devon found Annie Hall so painful it took awhile for him to speak. I was surprised but patient. I couldn’t have dreamed up a movie more likely to focus all our reservations. The scene where Annie tells Alvy she misses him made me think of poor Ryder – the separate fragile uniqueness of each human soul – and I could tell Devon was “feeling” his memories too.
We sneaked a pizza (a whole pizza) into the theatre
so we could come right back here for wine and coffee and more wine –
took three hours to get to the point of making love.
In a fairly daring move D opened the buttons of my jumpsuit and stroked my stomach pulling down first one shoulder and then another to play with my breasts. Lovely feeling our bodies surge together. He’s good with his hands and has the most sensitive nipples of any man I’ve been with. At last I suggested we go to bed – the couch was really too uncomfortable. D went down on me – his body is the most gorgeous since the history of time – mountains, valleys, crevasses
– it’s like rock climbing making love to this man. He insisted on coming outside me which startled me somewhat, but after asking about my “protection” (IUD) fortunately abandoned this technique the second time.
He looks at me in a funny way like he wants to say
something but he doesn’t say it. I tried to tell him I’ve learned so much from our 5 year friendship – he seemed unable to take it in. He obviously fears the future and his memory is so bad – after the terrors of his childhood he thinks the whole past is all bad news. It’s like he’s afraid to remember ANYTHING. That would be the worst thing for a writer.
You dare not fear the past. Rhythms can’t evolve from longing alone.
We woke up, grapenuts & coffee, went swimming, sat on deck, watched tennis on TV. Every time I changed clothes he said “the sight of you naked turns me on” and we made love again.
Tomorrow is the first of August – whole new beginning.
Try to see myself at 33, with a lawn and a bra and a trash compactor.
Freedom is key. No mail. Reading Geo Woodcock’s critical study of Orwell.
6:45 PM Dark as night and pouring rain. Obsessing
about D’s body – can’t get it out of my mind and our 22 hours together.
Welcome obsessions; R’s slate cleared. Did I use him? Is he “Brand X?”
Thinking of all the things I wish I’d said to Devon. He’s so intellectual yet so impermeable. Strange delicate kisses – as impossible to get inside his mouth as his mind. Loud thunder, lightning.
-
Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
11:45 AM Sun 1 May 77
Keith softened me up by calling to ask if I’d been in
his office. He smelled my perfume. (I hadn’t.) Agreed to go out with him
Sat night. Just awful. Awful. Keep wishing he was literally ANYONE
else. Dating someone who doesn’t interest you sexually is like trying
to diet by ordering food you dislike. (I actually tried this. Ordered tripe.)
Howlably stupid. Yet no one to howl to.
R. says he’d “hate” to think I “needed” him and didn’t
call. Am I the stupid one here? I think so. Sucker for punishment. Upstairs,
Downstairs cheers me up a little. Considering renting little house in the
wilds of Virginia. Or garden apt. utilities included. Dogs would like it –
close to clubs. Read Eliz Savage’s Good Confession – very minor.
Cleaning. Laundry, dishes, garbage.
Thinking about Sylvia Plath and the problem of panic
attacks. It’s all about learning to steer into the skid.
Wed May 4 – 77
Made illegal copies of novel at work, drove to Plush
Palace in Virginia to audition. (10 Mins down Rt 1 from Woodrow
Wilson bridge. 1 HR commute). VA pays better, mandates pasties
& stockings, Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms (I’m not kidding)
makes sure you don’t sit with or talk to clientele. Amen! I was hired
immediately $90 day plus tips. So pleased. Got a car appt Fri 13th
so El Diablo won’t die on Beltway. Working Thurs, Fr. Sat and there’s
no holdback, they pay you immediately. Buy G-strings & pasties
Landover mall.
Avril says R “betrayed” me. But do you “betray” someone
by having a weak character? He can’t help it. A says he’s behaved
so badly there’s no hope for him. I think he can’t make up his mind –
he wants me only if I don’t want him. Plus if he finds out I’m dancing
again he’ll want to “convert” me. (He’ll think I’m doing it just to torture
him. I don’t plan to tell.) Gave A a copy of my novel to read – feeling
insane – got to get reaction from SOMEBODY. Broadcast asks me to
stay “on call” so Mr. Pierce has forgiven me or is desperate.
Plush Palace – 9 PM Fri 6 May 77
Very nice dressing room. Girl I’m dancing with (Darla) is just
awful. Find the comparison very cheering. A gobbled my novel up, says
it’s “deep” but “obsessive”; made me feel on right track. How much can
I torture my audience? I‘ve GOT to stop blubbering and start fantasizing.
Who CARES about the pathos of my existence? Make something up.
Sat. 7 May 77
House is mine! Everyone moved out. (A’s & Mason’s new
place just what they wanted – skyscraper urban nightmare.) Listening
to opera, reading NY Times, feeling like a Big Success. Dog across
my chest in blissful rapture. ($100 in tips last night!!!) R called to say
I “always have a place with him” and He “has never taken my heart
ring off”. Is he nuts or am I?
Realize for the first time he says things he KNOWS aren’t
true just to hear himself say them!! Just like the Victorians –
mouthing something is halfway there! Because you’re making an
effort! You could not imagine anyone more opposite from me. Hopeless,
hopeless, hopeless, as the rock musicians say.
Reading Bottle Factory Outing – so wonderful. (But liked
The Secret Glass better.) Trying to numb weird longings to write ghost
stories by eating chicken potpie (regression). Wrote first draft of a short
story about a grandmother telling her shocked granddaughter about
“the time I almost committed suicide”. Very matter of fact. Feel I’m
recovering from “mono-soul-iosis” – not just R but my first marriage,
Devon and everyone between. Shoulders asks to borrow lawnmower –
asked me if I want to watch him use it. (He knows he’s pretty.) I do.
7:15 PM 8 May 1977
Feeling much better, like I’ve passed a turning point. Wasn’t
sure how much I could trust myself in the past, but if I’ve come through
this, my core must be solid, instead of the jelly mass I fear. Sitting in my
far-from-clean study beneath my poster of Blake’s God & the Angels
enjoying an after dinner cup of coffee. Sanity returns. A. is coming tonight
to get her flokati rugs – that will make the downstairs look empty. Trying
to finish Household’s Courtesy of Death, so I can take all these silly books
to the library, dump them, and get a lifetime supply of Peter de Vries. The
only proven painkiller is laughter. My damn novel’s made a fool out of me.
Time to admit it.
3:15 PM 9 May 77
Called into Broadcast to sub for Loretta. Working on Devlyn
galleys. The main scary thing about this place is that no one works
here willingly. “Morale” is a poisonous miasma. Kind of like the
architects’ office.
Mom & Dad raise hell over A’s living with Mason. I thought
they were so worked up about “commitment”! Sharing an apt is a
commitment, isn’t it? Not according to them. Glad poor A is taking
the storm for once and not me. Couldn’t cope with them on top of
everything else. R. and I are trying to evolve into a “friendship”. It
sounds stupid but there has to be some third place between
attraction and avoidance because each of those is obsession.
When I ran this idea past R he said I was his “best friend”. This is
why he is so impossible to deal with. Best friend? He wouldn’t
treat a pet the way he’s treated me (the SPCA would come and get him.)
Speaking of Ryder, he just called. Finished my book,
found the Black Mass a little short otherwise liked it. Didn’t say a
word about “who’s Hank based on.” Thank God. He did ask who
the baby’s father is – I said even Nilssa doesn’t know. According
to R. I have “no problems”. (He doesn’t know about the dancing. If
he was REALLY my best friend I could tell him.) He says we have
the whole rest of our lives to talk. He’s uncannily good at saying
what I want to hear (unfortunately). Seeing him tonight. Take the bus
home, buy wine, wash & set my hair. If only we could get to the stage
where we no longer fear each other.
4:50 PM Tues 10 May 77
Well we’re not out of the woods yet but perhaps have
found a path. Last night was like losing my virginity all over again
– we were both so shy. Slept wrapped up and embracing. Many
compliments on my body (no tell-tale glitter in the bed.) He said he
was so upset by me breaking up with him at McDonald’s he can’t
go to any McD’s anymore. Pledges of love somewhat ruined by
an argument during breakfast about whether a novel can be “good”
if no one will buy it. Uh oh. I tried keeping it philosophical, not
giving historical examples he wouldn’t recognize (which would be
“one-upping”.) Finally stopped when he got a call from a “goofy
chick.” Should I be worried, I ask, and he says no. But I can’t avoid
the sinking feeling that I don’t dare hitch my wagon to anyone
so dependent on mass psychology – even as a friend – without losing my way
-
Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
Fri. 24 Sept 76
Checked my acct – $54!! Don’t know where it came from
but I will spend it. Sent poems to Chloe Aparo, borrow bike from
Shoulders. Ryder wants to go horseback riding, we went to see
The Tenant instead. (Cheaper). R managed to discuss it intelligently.
Trying to research the occult for Secaire. Reading bad suspense
novel – Geoffrey Turtons Devil’s Churchyard. I liked all his other
books. Dump it for Aleister Crowley’s Diary of a Drug Fiend. $10
to live on for 2 weeks. Mom & Dad sent emergency check.
6:25 PM – Sun 3 Oct 76
Fabulous dinner party last night. Steak tartare, crab
and cheese casserole, lots of wine. R and I fall asleep in each
other’s arms. We have more sex “broken up” than when we were
dating. Got offered $3.50 an hour for 4 hr a day legal secretary!!!
Out of their minds. Trying to sell my wedding dress for $150 –
got one porno call.
Tues 5 Oct 76
4pm appt with Environmental Defense Fund. Howard
Nemerov such a relief after Auden.
Thurs 11:30 PM 7 Oct 76
Typical Tyler St evening. Lying in bed (alone) powdered
and polished from bath. Maeve and Avril out on dates. R is working,
I’m reading Quest for Theseus. Got too depressed reading
Shirley Jackson. Her life solutions: food and cigarettes – plenty
of both. Lost EDF job – as soon as they turned me down I
decide I want it! To WTTG to apply for “production asst” job –
200 people spilling into street! Didn’t bother. How write about
love if it’s impossible?
I owe Maeve money – she doesn’t like it and I don’t
like it. Tension almost unbearable waiting for my check.
R offered jobs in Pittsburgh & Detroit. (He says he
doesn’t ever want to leave though it’s the only way to make more $$.)
12:55 PM Wed 13 1976 These are the times that try
women’s souls. Desperately accepted switchboard job at Broadcasters Agency because it looks easy and I can think my own thoughts.
Replacing a girl going on maternity leave so I’m not stuck if I don’t
like it. Agent sent check told me not to cash it for a week!!! Thinking
they’re all scam artists. Reading Diane Johnson’s brilliant Lesser
Lives. Avril depressed over Mason. Maeve depressed over George.
I am buying diet pills because of sedentary job.
Switchboard – Broadcast Agency 9:15 AM – Fr. 18 Feb 77
New notebooks such a thrill. Always a fresh start:
I could almost become anyone. Worked 3 full days this week –
more $$ in the coffers. Avril coming in to Broadcasters Agency
to apply for Zelma’s old job – $8500/yr for 7 hr day. Hope she
gets it. Brought in The Voyage Out today – I WILL finish it –
bring it to its knees. Perfect example of everything usually wrong
with first novels. Don’t like her novels as much as letters and diaries.
Talk about peering through a glass darkly. Oh well. Still drinking
coffee and picking the fuzz out of my eyes. Period’s arrived with its
usual exquisite timing. Once I’ve finished Secaire (needs a final burst)
can rewrite Find Courtney. Sort of a love story there.
10:30AM Sun 20 Feb 77
R and I went on ski weekend to Massanutten.
Didn’t work. Never felt so far from him, and he realized it.
Opal & Garrett over for dinner last night – their relationship is
boring when I’m alone and don’t have R doing all the work for me.
Drank too much out of sheer boredom and because I was
depressed over R, then I get depressed over being depressed
and drink more. Clearly he’s worthless and I must be too if I can
get depressed over him. No good work on novel. Filing, cleaning,
paying bills takes up all my time and my room still looks like a filthy hole.
Hermiting seems only option (cheaper, too). Must learn to roll
with the punches.
Fantasizing about Devon because 24th is his birthday. Bad sign.
1:00PM 21 Feb 77
Dizzy from dieting. Not dancing very bad for my body.
Current weight 122. (Opal says I have the perfect body. Glad
someone appreciates it.) Ryder suggested jogging – bad mistake.
Instantly attacked by colds & flu. Instead of eating go to library on
my lunch hr to take out books. Went to see The Sentinel somewhere
in the burbs with Avril and Mason, who drove like a crazy person
(“I’m not afraid of death!”) Never again. Ghastly flick. Mason moving in
– his money is good. Another secret to be kept from landlord. A guy
at work (Keith Dalrymple) is courting me. He looks all right, though
he has receding hairline. Kind of old. Asked to read my novel. I gave
him my poems instead. He needs to hit the ground running.
Tues. 22 Feb 77
Mason trying to talk A into moving to Calif with him. Uh oh.
Maeve also wants to move out because I’m critical of her
“dating” her married boss (they have sex in the supply closet).
She believes his tiredest lines. “Drop him – he’s outrageous
and destructive,” I say. I’m one to talk. Will use her room for
my study. Try to live without roommates. Sent Devon a long
grey silk scarf for his birthday.
3:40 PM Wed 23 Feb 77
Keith Dalrymple amazingly told me he loves my
poems. Wow. Having good literary taste definitely works with me!
Having a drink with him tonight. Had to struggle to keep myself
from hurling cash at a gorgeous $50 suit in going-out-of-business
dress shop on Dupont Circle. Slogging through Mrs Dalloway –
it’s her best book. But all this blind struggle not my thing. Require
some consciousness. I guess we were reptiles in those days just turning amphibious.
Thurs. 24 Feb 77
Can’t seem to write poetry anymore. Cocktail bar buffet
with Keith (Avril calls him a “dim bulb”. We are very critical of each
other’s honeys.) He’s a Woolf novel – smooth glossy surface,
violence and trauma beneath. He is intelligent – quoted Frost –
38 yrs old – divorced (was married 15 years!!!) I sat swilling
Scotch and giving him the hairy eyeball – do I have the strength
for this? He blanched when I ordered escargots chablisienne.
Wouldn’t even kiss him. I demand exceptionality and refuse to settle for less. Whatever else you can say about Ryder, he’s definitely one of a kind. I am in a unique position compared to other women writers. Given the chance to rise above sexual
strictures. Bought an exquisite pair of very high-heeled boots. I tower over Ryder – in more ways than one. Heheheh.
-
Inspired Pleasure – the dance diaries of Alysse Aallyn
6:30 PM 9 Aug 76 – Shalimar
Writing carefully so as not to mess up my fresh
polish. Got here early – Fessenden bus much better. Rick
Marl in tonight talking about R’s divorce. Said I should hear
his wife’s side of the story. (He’s met her.) I don’t want to hear
his wife’s side of the story – what would I do if I did know it.
Sounds like they should get a divorce – she’s not resisting so
obviously she had as many problems with him as he had with her.
The fact that he spent so much time here is bad news for any marriage.
I was very impressed by his job – a TV news director
is a king – he sits in a the control booth with all the camera angles
in front of him and tells everyone what to do. I said nothing, but I
enjoyed the way they looked at me – very admiringly – where did
SHE come from. Little do they know – R won’t tell them. If they
dine at the Shalimar, they’ll find out. Fortunately, they’re all good
family men – eat lunch out of a cooler then rush home to fix the
automatic garage door opener and read a bedtime story to the
little ones.
Reading Mortal Wounds and loving it. Fun to compare
the George Sand period to the Notorious Woman TV series last year.
Went on a picnic with R. then saw Robert Shaw in Swashbuckler.
Ghastly flick. I wasn’t too rude because R liked it. Told him he should
have seen Anne of the Thousand Days.
Sent out 12 poems. But I’m trying to force myself to stop writing
poetry and concentrate on novel. There’s no financial point to poetry
– Alas.
11:35 am Thurs 12 Aug 76
I’d like to write but I must pack for the trip and it junks up my
head. Mss, 2 ribbons (in case) correctype, The Romantic Egoists,
Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald’s Scrapbooks, and the wonderful
portrait by Julia Cameron of the two little girls clutching each other
which I see as the cover of my book. Sad to see the way Fitzgerald
tried to force his wishes on the universe – force it to see things –
to be – his way. No wonder he admired the rich – they’re the only
ones who sometimes – very infrequently – get away with that. But
they are not enviable nevertheless – it’s always a naked emperor
situation. Zelda’ s constant references to “not having a past” interest
me exceedingly – that way madness most definitely lies. This is what
happens to people who insist on “living in the present”; they become amnesiacs. Idea for a poem.
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD:
“To the Spoils Belong the Victor”
The butler’s name is Gin;
He never gets the girl.
The Heart’s Café is terraced –
Cantilevered exits exalt
No core. At the Pony Bar
Payment is upfront;
Robert Service and Booth Tarkington
Left prints on ice;
The service is bad but
There’s a reason for everything.
Back at the Alhambra someone who might be Ernest
Puts the moves on someone
Who looks like Zelda or possibly it was
The other way around.
They never get these stories straight.
Here’s the one they played last year:
Sole is déclassé but at least
There’s always caviar.
Look on, look down, look it up or read
The menu.
Floorshow Tonight: Van Wyck Brooks &
Edmund Wilson Debate:
Artist = Self-destructive Sport?
Or Fad? Or Fate?
I guess I’ll need clothes – so I must do laundry. I also should
clean house for poor A – it’s only fair. No writing; circumstances militate.
R working very hard to get to the point where he can take a
vacation – he didn’t get in till 2:45 AM.
Shalimar – 3:30 PM –13 Aug 76
Was sitting on a box of Lite Beer sipping coffee and
reading Miss Read when Carmen warned me that the boss
might fire me for reading. Apparently writing he doesn’t mind
so much, probably because he can’t imagine anyone keeping
it up longer than 10 mins at a time. R. will be here soon, then
we hit the bank, pick up my stuff and we’re on the road for the
Finger Lakes. Five hours alone in the car. I find I have a lot
of inhibitions against voicing boundaries in our relationship –
mainly because I don’t want to be lied to. I want to find out
how things really are. For example, he spent last night in
Gaithersburg with his wife. Now her I’m jealous of, because
he used to love her, used to think she was a “catch” and
was surprised and gratified that she “descended” into
marriage with him.
I probably won’t ask him if they had sex because
it would be making too much of it. He’s said before he wouldn’t,
and she definitely wouldn’t. But I can’t believe a woman who
knows she’s losing a man might not change in her feelings –
just to see what power she has left. I would, if he wanted the
divorce and I didn’t. Will I be able to tell just by looking at him?
R feels the right to be jealous and possessive over me, which
I don’t grudge him since I’m naturally monogamous. He feels
no discomfort making rules for me. But he should.
6:00 PM Saturday 14 Aug 76 Finger Lakes
Lying on the bed in our tiny TINY two room cabin –
with just a curtain separating the rooms – I was going to write
here about how much I love my job (I really miss dancing so
much when I’m away from it – the ideal thing would be three
sets a day for life) – when R came in, threw himself on me,
tore my clothes off, began kissing my breasts and exploring
my tan lines and pressing his beautiful valued body hard hard
hard into mine – and you know what happened next. If he turns
the fan on high I don’t think the other campers can hear our little
yips and screams. At least I hope not. We spent last night in his
grandmother’s house in Binghamton, New York.
She bedded us down in separate rooms – he gave me a
long lecture about how you have to respect the house rules of
whoever you’re staying with – and then who do you think showed
up in the middle of the night saying he couldn’t sleep. It is ecstatic
to have sex almost without moving – this must be what Tantra is like.
We were directly over her and the bed creaked so we didn’t move a
muscle – absorbed and shed each other like snakes. Wonderful.
Next stop was R’s cousins who own the cabins. I don’t know
what to say about them – plastic flowers and Sonny James. My state
of deep shock probably resembled mental retardation. Some people’s
houses are frighteningly ugly. Their clock has eyes, they keep the
plastic on the lampshades. I just sat there while the ethnic and sex
jokes filtered around me. Who could blame R’s first wife for
shunning this bunch?
I would not choose them for buddies either. And the fact
that they are renting us a cabin doesn’t appear to mean we will
also get privacy – so I have taken to wearing my glasses. Number
one – I don’t see as well – number two – it creates a kind of screen
between me and them.
The Lake is beautiful – but I don’t need to go in more than
twice a day – I also don’t have the patience for the fish-a-thons that
absorb the rest of them, dawn till dusk.
Plus one time waterskiing was plenty. Since dinner is a
vast barbecue down at the beach every night and we only have
sandwiches for lunch and cereal for breakfast there is not that
much to do, thank God. Sadly the dinners are followed by
hours of dancing, drinking and fighting. I go to bed early to read
but R stays and plays “peacemaker”. Tonight he says he’s going
to let them kill each other and join me. Therefore I can set up my
typewriter on the kitchen table and get right to it. People keep
coming to bring me coffee and cookies – I think they really
want to see a writer “in action” – at the end of this trip I MAY
be 20 lbs heavier. The rest of my time is spent sunning and reading.
Unfortunately St. Secaire going VERY badly. Complete
horseshit, alas.
I’ve started it four separate times. I think at this point I just
have to keep going and hope it’s possible to clean up the mess later.
Tuesday 17 Aug 76 7:30 PM
Outside a fair number of people, all high as kites,
revving their engines and swearing they’re leaving and never
coming back. I don’t know if anybody’s actually going to GO
or not but I wish they would. No wonder R had nothing to do
with these people for four years – he may conveniently blame
his wife but the truth is none of them can stand each other.
Pack of wolverines. I’ve been left totally alone and am well
out of it – they may have forgotten I am even here. Last night R
was so depressed he just lay on the bed exhausted by them. I
tried to explain to him about resentment and the resulting succubae
and incubi thus created. (Subject of my novel, in fact.)
He said something about “our next 25 years” that just
floored me. Even my husband didn’t talk like that. Remember
saying to my father – I would be fine if I could only find a man who
treated me as well as I treated him. Dad – so ready to take
anybody’s part over mine, said, Has it ever occurred to you at
you might be hard to live with? Such a typical Daddy remark –
the more you think about it the worse it gets.
Well, R treats me better than anyone else so far.
He’s almost talked me into looking for a new job when I get back –
and that’s a lot. But if he wants to introduce me around, can’t lie
about what I do, etc etc. (This group – doesn’t know about my job –
he says they’d eat me – and him – alive. I can scarcely believe
they would take the moral high ground with me but I suppose
anything’s possible.)
Tried to read a Redbook someone brought –
shouldn’t do it. So depressing. Could never write like that or
be like that. If that’s the standard this whole thing is hopeless.
Then I picked up a book by Grace Livingston Hill. I’m going to
include her in my article on female pornographers.
R told me he had the impression that if I didn’t have my
novel to write I would probably go bananas. I said probably. I tried
to prepare him for the very different kind of vacation he’s going to
get in Maine – where people very deliberately leave each other alone.
If somebody sets off down the beach and you wanted also to walk
on the beach – you’d turn and go the opposite way. R says in his
family that would be grounds for a six-year grudge punctuated by
sobbing, screaming and threats of suicide.
12:10 am
Went night fishing with R because he wanted me to.
Wrote a wonderful poem about Coleridge – just came to me in
one piece. Couldn’t really share with R – he doesn’t know who
Coleridge is. So I showed him – Haunted Wedding.
HAUNTED WEDDING
The pregnant car disgorges
Only us. It’s winter.
Drunk as silver fish
We beat our gills as light
As hummingbirds.
In an amethyst ring
Of drypoint trees
The half-built house
Gapes and swells
Its timbers stink of sap.
Windrill fields occlude
Our crossing, so you carry me
High above the thorny osiers.
We sleep aloft for safety
Locked and levitating
In this space of air
One season only,
Unseen by angry outriders;
Bloodless in our wedding robes
Like the doubled membranes
Of the frozen flowers
This triggered a fight because he says it wasn’t written
for him. (If he jealously searches my work for other lovers
madness is assured.) He almost talked me into thinking it a
bad poem.
I feel my mother’s disapproving stare on all of this – “
don’t ruin what you have by trying to get something else” – as
if showing R this poem would be a deliberate way of hurting him
by making him feel inferior – part of her larger accusation that I
channel so much energy into writing I’m no good with people and
that’s why my relationships suffer. All I can say is, thank God for
my diary.
Writing now with my feet in R’s lap while he plays cards.
He strokes my toes from time to time, as if I were a cat. We came in
from fishing and he just took my pants down – such earthy
sexuality has never existed for him. He told me he’s never
been so happy. And as for me? One side of my multi-prismed
personality is happy, but some of the other sides are complaining.
Difficult to contemplate an existence where I am not mentally alone
six hours a day.
One of the reasons I like my job is that it leaves that part
of me remarkably intact – dancing is a lot like sleepwalking. If I get
another job there’s a strong chance I’ll have to interact with humans.
Hell. And we both know how humans can be. Then I might be too
exhausted emotionally and battered psychologically to have the
energy to write – it’s a serious risk. Those architects ran roughshod
over me.
Alysse Aallyn 