"Persuasion" by Jane Austen and "A Weekend in New York" by Benjamin Markovitz
I recently finished
Persuasion by Jane Austen, and
A Weekend in New York by Benjamin Markovitz. Two very different novels, about widely different things, in eras so widely unlike each other. And yet, the common thread of exasperation runs through both. I didn't expect to find something in common between these two. In fact, I chose to read
A Weekend in New York precisely because I loved
Persuasion so much, I wanted to read something of a different flavor.
Alas, they had more in common than I thought. Of course, not the longing-for-the-lost-love and seeing-your-ex-for-the-first-time-in-years part, which is the main precis for
Persuasion.
The other part of it: the restrained disdain for her family, and the inner thoughts of someone who actually could not stand them, but is bound to them by love, obligation, and duty.
This is precisely what Anne feels for her father and sisters, and to a certain extent, Lady Russell, whom she loves, but also disagrees with on some very important things. She respects them, yes. She will stand by them. But she finds herself still being caught off guard when confronted with the reality that she isn't like them, and she is often tired of dealing with them. She'd rather be in another family's house, she'd rather be with an old friend, she'd rather be seeing her ex, even if it pains her not knowing how he still feels about her.
In much the same way, every character in
A Weekend in New York feels suffocated by their family. They are fiercely loyal to each other, no doubt about it. They love each other so much, evidently, by the mere fact that everyone is willing to fly to New York, move their schedules around, stay in one apartment, just to see Paul play the US Open. But the shifting allegiances even in small disagreements, the discomfort brought up by throwaway comments, the dulling ache of wondering "Do these people really know me?" It's all so relatable. Each family has their own language, their own culture. And within that space, every member tries to navigate that the best way they know how, depending on the situation, based on decades of history and knowledge. For an "in-law" like Dana, it was easy to feel overwhelmed, like walking on eggshells. Even with her own husband, Paul. But even for the Essingers themselves, they find themselves stepping on land mines, or catching a lit grenade. Nothing really happens in the book, actually. It's all very interior. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it even more for what it is. Maybe because I share those same thoughts, those same worries. That seeming paradox of feeling exasperated about having to explain myself to people who are supposed to know me, but also feeling at ease to just say what's on my mind immediately - even if it's hurtful - without much thought because they do know me.
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