The Time Traveler's Wife

So I recently finished "The Time Traveler's Wife", which is a very good book. But it has me thinking about things in sort of weird terms. I have two main points to address:

Firstly, this woman, most of her life is spent waiting. All of the Odessey analogies are perfect, of course. Very little of her life is actually spent in the present. And that kinda makes me sad. Because, if anything, I've learned that this is not a good way to be. It's common to be thinking about the past all the time or day dreaming and fantasizing about the future. But it's not the recipe for happiness, you know. It's a habit I am trying very very hard to break, and I know many others who are similarly struggling with this problem. But this woman, Clare, she actively participates in this and claims that she has no choice.

She meets this strange old man when she is 6, and befriends him and looks forward to his visits. Somewhere in her teens she starts to long for him in a romantic way. And that's really when all this waiting starts. She then proceeds to wait until she is 20 and she actually meets him in real time. They proceed to spend 15 years together, the first few years of which she seems to want him to be a more evolved version of himself, but she puts up with him in anyway with the expectation that he will change. This also strikes me as a bad idea. But lo and behold, he does. After a few years of good times, they then proceed into a protracted period of torture for about 7 years. That torture is caused by a.) her stubbornness at a very narrow idea of happiness, and b.) him being the way he is. And while the cause of that suffering is not entirely within their control, they don't seem to do a lot to ameliorate the situation either. She just continues on, to her own peril.

And during this decade and a half of "togetherness", she continues to wait for him during various disappearances while he is time traveling. Naturally, she worries about him. But she finds herself in turmoil because of the waiting, which I don't understand because it's not like she didn't know what she was in for.

I should mention that the characters are spared many of the difficulties regular people suffer with regards to finances or ambition or work-related issues. Because Henry has a nice job that doesn't change at a very supportive work place. So that's nice. And Clare is able to make art in her home studio and they have no other worries because they can play the lotto and the stock market with tips from the future. How nice.

But the inevitable tragedy befalls them, and she then waits another 45 years for him to return, for one day. 45 years!!!! That's 3 times longer than they were together. That's beyond dedication. That's insane. Throughout this book I kept finding myself going: this is all very romantic and Henry's a very cool guy, but seriously. Basically, this woman's entire life is suffering. Her entire life. And this is what we call love. I kind of wanted to smack Henry. Like give the girl a break. You know this isn't going to end well. Act like an asshole for a few months and dump her so maybe she can have some happiness in this life that lasts for longer than 5 minutes.

Ah, but this brings us to item #2.

Charisse and Gomez provide an interesting foil couple to Clare and Henry. Charisse and Gomez intrigue me because they strike me as very much like most couples. They have a lifetime of mediocrity to share. Maybe that's too harsh. Because they actually do strike me as 2 people with a lot in common, who have a lot of fun together. So maybe they are better than the average couple. But they don't have this overwhelming sense of love and destiny that Clare and Henry seem to have. They also don't appear to be completely happy or fulfilled by each other. Yet, they work very well as a couple. They are supportive of each other, they have a good laugh. They are both decent people, but they also both know that their relationship isn't everything they maybe wish it could be. Yet they hang on and make the most of it. Which, in my experience, is how most people are.

Aside: I think it's easy to paint Gomez as a shithead. But I get where he's coming from, and I think he actually handles most things with dignity. If I thought someone was the perfect person for me, I dunno if I could be best friends with their spouse. And that's the thing. He is a good friend. And usually, he does the right thing. As for Cherisse, I think girl has some self-esteem problems, because I don't think I could sit through 2 decades of doubting the other person.

The difference between these two relationships makes me wonder about the choices we make. At the end of the equation of Clare's life, will she have been happier for having spent it mostly waiting for Henry? Or would she have been happier, ultimately, spending it with someone like Gomez in a relationship that is perhaps less intense but more lasting.

Perhaps this is the question most people ask themselves: do you stick with the tolerable but not terrific thing you have, or do you risk losing something decent for something great? And what if that great thing never comes? Or what if you thought was great, isn't actually? And how long does it stay great for?

I wonder if Clare's love for Henry is real or is just the product of all of those visits. Conversely, I think that Henry's love of Clare was real. But even then, fairly selfish. Having witnessed his father's suffering with the loss of his mother, he condemned Clare to this same fate almost thoughtlessly. Perhaps by the time he realised how things were gonna go, it was too late, he was too far in. Perhaps that explains his apparent lack of mercy for the person he loves most. Perhaps it never occured to him that things would end badly. Perhaps.

Aside: this brings me to the major plot hole in the book. Unless Henry's mother was also a chrono-displaced person (which we never find out but is doubtful), Henry's existence would not have been possible. Just as normal Clare kept miscarrying thier genetically bizarre children because they were too different for her body to accept as a part of her, Henry's mother arguably would similarly have miscarried him for this reason.

I actually think that the worst thing they did was to have a child. Because, although Henry's time travelling was in one way a wonderful gift, it ultimately destroyed him and destroyed Clare. Again, to force his daughter to go through that same suffering is kinda cruel. I suppose it could be argued that maybe things would be different for her. But let's face it, she doesn't have an easy life ahead. And poor Clare, having to spend a lifetime worrying about her child time travelling alone. I kept wondering how things would go once Alba started to go through puberty. I don't imagine showing up naked god knows where at age 13 would be so fun.

I didn't grow up with romantic concepts of marriage and romance and forever. Similarly, Clare's family did not provide good role models, but Henry's ongoing appearances seem to have embeded these ideas into her, so that no one else would do. Conversely, Henry's family demonstrated the destructive power of love and he seemed to have simply filled his life with pointless sexual encounters until he met Ingrid. And even though that relationship was clearly disatisfying and destructive, he stuck with it. It was the best thing he had known, even if it wasn't great. It was only when faced with Clare's "we belong together and get married in the future" did he leave Ingrid. And even that wasn't right away. But I ask myself: what if he wasn't a time traveller? What if she didn't know about their future and they just met like normal people, would anything have happened? Would they themselves have settled into greater or lesser relationships with others. Would they have known what they missed on some level, or would they have continued on ambivalently?

But they didn't. It's a nice story. It's a very sad story, but it's very true to people and this era. And it's extremely romantic and wistful. Which is a nice change.

So why did Clare decide to wait until infinity for Henry? Was it worth it? Why did Cherisse stay with Gomez despite knowing that he wanted someone else? Why did Gomez stay in a relationship he was clearly disatisfied with? Why did none of this bother Henry? What would you choose? What would I choose?

You better, you better, you bet

I've been thinking about the idea of "better."

I've been thinking that for most of my life, and probably for most of a lot of peoples' lives, that "better" is an objective concept. That there is a superior way of being, of living, of whatever than what I do.

What I'm starting to think is that it isn't about "better" or "perfect" or "improved" in some sort of socially acceptable, objectively measurable way. Rather, that self-improvement should be about being truer to the self and behaving in ways that reflect intention and respect for yourself and others.

For a long time I was really hung up on my moral imperative. I was sort of obsessed with being above reproach and holding others to that ridiculous standard, and then strongly admonishing and judging and guilting myself and others when we, inevitably, fell short.

I find myself now suddenly much softer. Suddenly seeing people in kaleidoscope colours of human frailty rather than black and white concepts of superior and lesser. I find myself understanding so much more about people and how they function, even when I completely don't understand, than the benchmark way I used to.

I used to see myself as just this fucked up mess of a person, surrounded by individuals who are much more put together and content and self-possessed and secure than I ever hoped to be. And I was always drowning while trying to swim my way up to the surface where everyone else seemed to function so effortlessly. In some ways, this wasn't incorrect. We all struggle more and less than others on the planet. I just always viewed myself as closer to the bottom of the barrel than the top.

But now I find myself conceiving the people I know and encounter as all struggling and trying and learning and dealing with various shit, past and present, attempting to find a way through this complex world and a life without a guide book. And perhaps I'm no different. Perhaps we are all thrashing around in our different ways, imperfectly trying to figure it all out. And there's a certain understanding, a certain forgiveness, a certain amount of empathy that comes with believing this.

Maybe my job in life is to find the right way for me to be content and fulfilled and true and comfortable in my skin and my life. And maybe that's your job too. Maybe that's what we do every day, even though we sleep walk through so much of life. And forgive us all for being imperfect in how we go about doing this in a world overflowing with options and replete with isolation.

I have been looking at those around me in a new way. Instead of judging them when they stumble, instead of assuming that they are so very much better than me, I am seeing us all as just human beings who get some things better than others. We each have strengths and weaknesses and great moments and bad ones. And you're not superior, and I'm not superior. We are all just different. And some are more self-aware, and some are healthier, and some are more respectful, and some are kinder, and some are truer, etc etc. But so what? Do the best you can. Figure out what you can. Appreciate that everyone else is struggling and fucking up and learning too. And that's all that can be asked.

Vancouver Fringe Festival Part 2

Unfortunately, it's been an action packed few weeks since I attended the Fringe, so the following are shows I saw but not necessarily in the right order.

"Murder, hope" is a play about neuroplasticity, which is bizarre in and of itself. It is yet another one woman show, which is not my favourite and it is the most disjointed of all the shows I saw. That said, the woman is totally delightful and Betsy and I agreed that we liked her better than the actual show. Basically, it was about a little boy with a horrible disease related to epilepsy and basically lost his ability to communicate. And a woman who lost the use of her arm. And another woman who lost her vestibular functioning. It was about how they were each able to re-wire their brains. But it wasn't that enjoyable, unfortunately.

I also saw "Biographies of the Dead and Dying." This was in a bizaree little theatre I didn't know existed, in the back of Havana on Commercial. Although I really loved the show, it was most notable for the fact that local musician Dan Mangan was there and I chatted with him briefly. This play was about a woman who had been married to a successful poet for many years. They had a tumultuous relationship. She also fancied herself a writer and eventually wrote a novel that became a huge success. Now she is divorced and needing another hit. A desperate and miserable alcoholic, who may or may not have a daughter to whom she makes innapropriate audio tapes, she goes to a supposedly haunted house with the hopes of being inspired sufficiently to write another book. The house is notable as another writer shot himself there. Things go predictably not to plan. She has a relationship with her married landlord (resulting in possibly the most interestingly staged sex scene ever), drinks a lot of booze, talks a lot of shit, and ultimately shoots herself. It was in no way surprising, but it was thoroughly enjoyable. Particularly for those of us with the inclination to write, there were a few gems about what disfunction leads us to that outlet. There was also utterly pointless nudity. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for nudity. But really, this was just silly. If such an award existed, it should win the prize for the best use of a stage prop/set piece, for the bathtub. It's hard to explain.

I also saw "The 7 Lives of Louis Riel." This was a one man show. But it was clever and funny, and was only lacking in it's failure to be in any way touching. Basically, it was a version of the story of Louis Riel told in 7 different veins, i.e. batman comic, spagetti western, puppet show, etc. Some of these were excellent and some were less so. But the effect of the whole was very enjoyable and high energy. It was the one of the weirder shows in that there was no 4th wall. It was totally audience interactive, replete with frequent question period and discussions. But I liked it quite a lot.

"Shotgun" was a huge disapointment. I was hoping for a show in the vein of "No Exit." I have come to the conclusion that I need to stop having high expectations for the Fringe, because it ends badly every time. So Sartre it wasn't. Pointless it was, however. I still don't understand why anyone put on this show. Basically, it was about an Australian woman who moved to Vancouver to be with her boyfriend. She started teaching at a fancy private school. She joined a car pool. In the car pool is a self-absorbed, arty drama teacher who is unsure about what she wants in life or who she is. There is also a sleazy white guy who hits on everyone that moves and thinks he's super cool, and a black guy who loves his family but his wife is always pissed at him and he is consequently sex starved. This is supposed to be a play about different people who are stuck together and either bond or kill each other during their daily commute. It was boring. It was pointless. It was not touching or clever or funny. The only good thing was the slight commentary about some of the mad quirkiness of Canada in general and Vancouver specifically.

After "Shotgun" I saw "Kicked." "Kicked" was originally from like 2001, so all the tunage were some classic grunge gems. That was the best thing about this show. It was also a one man adventure that tried to be touching and smart, but wasn't. It takes place in like 1993. It was about the kidnapping and eventual murder of a 6 year old girl and the subsequent investigation by a cop. The cop can hear the girl talking to him in his head, for reasons unexplained. Most of what happens in this show is simply filler. It's interviewing people who then prattle on about thier own issues and then slowly circle back to the case. But mostly, it's filler. The way the staging occurs, with the actor playing both the cop and doing the little girl voice, did not work. The funny thing about this show however, was the fact that it takes place in the town in Ontario where I spent my teens. And there were a few inside jokes that you'd only get if you were there, and I sort of enjoyed the rediculousness of that place at that time being pointed out. The acting was okay, but it's just not a good show.

The last show I saw was "pornSTar." It was a great way to end the festival, on a saturday afternoon. Whoever the girl is who puts on that show, she is tremendously charming and endearing. She plays 4 characters essentially. Somehow, she can evoke both sweetness and total toughness. My only complaint would be too much of the innocent sweet girl routine of the main character. I actually liked the dead sister character better, who was younger but less sacarine. I actually didn't understand the point of the sister's storyline, but was always glad when she showed up.

I enjoyed the layering of each of the characters and the very understandable motivations of each. As a woman, I found that all very realistic. Except for the fact that two of the characters suddenly turn lesbian. That was problematic for me on the reality front. Because while I believe that sexual orientation occurs on a spectrum and there are very few of us who are 100% one thing or another, I found it hard to accept that two characters who had seemingly no homosexual proclivities suddenly found themselves very into each other. Now, I could get into the whole thing about exceptional cases where people have fallen in love with someone who was not exactly their thing but got over it because of who the person was and not the external aspect. But that's a whole other topic, and my opinion is that doesn't happen in a day. Nevertheless, the play is essentially about these people who find themselves and have to make the hard choice between the comfortable life they know and taking the risk to be true to themselves.

All in all, I'm very glad that I went to the festival. There were several reasons for this. Going to theatre, even avant garde, even crappy theatre is great. It was also an excellent excuse to get together with various friends. It also got me out of my house and sometimes out of my head. So I can't wait to go again next year.