I've loved and cheered for protagonist
who were objectively put, awful human beings, (Alex, A Clockwork
Orange, Humbert Humbert, Lolita, Holden Caulfiled,
Catcher in the Rye, Katniss Everdeen The
Hunger Games) I don't know that I'd ever cheered for a
character whose actions so clearly brought about her demise. Almost
from the very beginning there is a dichotomy within Edith, the title
character, as to her real life and how she views things. The diary
is Edith's way of hiding; she hides all her truth's she'd rather not
admit, dreams, hopes, and suspicions. It is her fantasy life, and at
times if very clearly leaves mark on her real world existence.
It's not an epistolary novel written in
journal format should anyone reading this have a thing for such
presentation; the diary entries themselves were extremely short and
equally infrequent. It's also not some grand plot driven narrative
with amazing external forces driving things forward. I hate the term
character study, but it may apply: it's long, super intimate and very
very personal.
Brett, Edith's husband, is her perfect
match in the beginning. Cliffie, there son is a monsterous human
being from birth and only gets worse. He has absolutely no redeeming
qualities and everyone, parents included, know. As she ages, her
diary recalls Brett simply fading away from her life instead of
leaving with a younger woman and starting a new family; Cliffie isn't
a horrible person, but educated, highly intelligent, married and has
beautiful children; she expeirences regular visits from non-existent
family and life only gets better.
One of the most powerful forces in her
life is George, Brett's elderly uncle, who lives with them as his
health declines. Brett doesn't nothing, George becomes invalid, and
Edith in every way becomes a nurse. It was a pretty easily
identifiable starting place for so much of the resentment that mars
her attitude toward other people. George and Cliffie have a very
peculiar relationship...
Melanie, a distant and favored Aunt
whom Edith really loves is her last bastion of rationality. When she
finally succumbs to advanced age and health problems, it's not the
stark encounter with Drs. Carstairs and McElroy, but Melanie's
passing that truly marks the end.
I never believed she was losing it
until a few impartial third-party characters started mentioning
things that couldn't be ignored and just didn't add up. At that
point, I was sad, sad because I really liked her. I was cheering for
Edith the entire time. I do feel was short-changed and dealt poorly,
and despite those things I do think she handled it all admirably. It
was hard to finally admit that yeah, she's slipping. And while I did
understand that she felt so many people were prying into her life at
the incessant suggestion of 'see a shrink, see a shrink, see a
shrink' before the end I certainly found myself saying she may need
some help....
Repression; (hiding, as Cliffie hides
the diary in the end!) is her main issue. By the end of the book
nearly every character we like or don't like that at least knows
Edith is begging her in good nature to talk to someone, and share her
feelings. And so, I--even as a reader--feel a bit as though I'm
betraying her as I sit here psycho-analyzing a fictional character
when all that she wanted was to be let alone. She has problems,
repression, and a difficulty stating how she feels, but her problems
come from real not perceived wrongs, and wrongs that anyone today or
then could identify with. I didn't love her because of her flaws,
certainly didn't dislike her for them either. I cheered for her
because she had them; and how she reacted to them, they endeared me
to her because I could see myself, or anyone else for the matter,
behaving in similar fashion.
Part of me feels like all her troubles
started with Cliffie being such an unrelenting dick. He's not a
spoiled brat just a bad egg with no explanation. He tries to
smoother the family cat a child, cheats and gets caught on college
entrance exams, gets drunk and break both legs of a pedestrian, puts
a gun in his fathers face and laughs, and at the least oversaw if not
administered George's overdose: all with no remorse. Edith nor Brett
spend a lot of time dwelling on Cliffie, how he came to be who he is
or what they can do to change him, but his actions certainly have a
tangible impact of Brett and Edith's relationship, and every other
facet of their lives.
Alcoholism is real in this book. To
the point where it may even play a part in Edith's decline. It could
be part cultural and indicative of the time; or these people are
drunks.
Edith is a rare character that never
'grows up' or matures. Her political views were always a bit
extreme; and she only solidifies them as she gets older, while Brett
and her one good-ish friend, soften and relent a bit in older age.
(Boy oh boy did Highsmith have a few Nixon rants in her... ) She
became more of an extremist and isolated herself the older she got,
and the more untenable her life became. She also completely and
totally stopped caring about other people. She became a super
crotchety old lady.
I see a lot of Patricia Highsmith in my
reading future.