Lookin' Forward to Some Half-Price Football-Shaped Cupcakes

Long, complicated dream that I mostly can’t remember, but in the very last part of it, I was driving a car through The City on the Hill (so-called because of that strong dream sense of having been there so many times before.)

I was on my way to the university: UCB, of course.

I was looking for a parking space. But it was raining very hard, and I kept remembering, You can’t drive a car through flowing water. The car will turn over. You’ll drown.

So, I went to a parking garage. But the parking garage was almost full, and as I was maneuvering my vehicle through its narrow lanes, a huge pink car pulled out of a space. Not only was it pink, it was soft—as if it were made of bubble gum. And I recognized it as the campaign car of a particular political candidate I absolutely detested.

The car pulled straight out in front of me and stopped there, blocking my way.



Not a whole lot to report.

I was virtuous. Remunerated and tromped. It was comparatively warm for winter, but the day was very grey, not the kind of day I enjoy. I was tromping because exercise is good, not because I enjoyed it.

It was one of those days when the reflections on the water were so vivid that it seemed as if there was a whole parallel universe beneath that water, identical to our own, except that everything was reversed.

###

Also binged a bit more of My Brilliant Friend, Season 3 and read a bit from the first novel.

The novel reminds me a bit of Doris Lessing, an author I disliked intensely when I read her in my 20s.

Now, I think I read Doris Lessing when I was too young to understand her. I’d probably get more out of reading her now.

Not that I’m gonna.

###

In the TV series, Lenù has become disillusioned with her husband.

I kinda think her husband is an okay guy, even if he does take too long to come. (Psst! Lenù. Hand job!).

And his analysis of Lila and that whole sordid rione crew is spot on.

Plus, here’s the thing:

It’s considered an act of feminist assertion to rage against being reduced to a housekeeper and a minder of children.

But if you’re not bringing in income, and you’re living in some sort of ménage, then domestic work is your contribution to the stability of that ménage.

In my 17-year-long ménage with Ben, for example, I was the one who brought in income, and so I expected him to take charge of the domestic arrangements.

Not that he did, of course. No, he felt domestic work was beneath him. He could have brought in income, too, of course; in which case, I could either have quit bringing in income and taken over the domestic duties myself, or we could have paid someone to do the domestic work (thereby providing an income stream for someone else.)

But he didn’t.

He preferred to rage against the humiliation of the domestic role and plot ways to bring me down.

As if the fact that I had to support the family was somehow an active attempt on my part to degrade him.

###

Lila is just the most awful character. (I had to stop myself from writing “person” there: Patrizia, this is fiction.)

But I do kinda get why Lenù needs her.

Here’s the secret about us writers: We need something to write about.

Quite often, we put ourselves in the most awful situations imaginable—just so we can write about them.

Imagination alone will not suffice!

Even if you are super-imaginative like I am.

Writing is the only art form for which that’s true, I believe. Visual artists don’t need to subject themselves to misadventures in order to paint or draw. Method actors may like to pretend they need life experiences to channel, but actually that’s not true.

Lenù needs Lila because without Lila, she is incapable of writing; she has nothing to say.

###

Meanwhile, I’m lookin' forward to some half-price football-shaped cupcakes at the supermarket today, bay-bee!