Many of you have probably read "The Story of an Hour", the remarkable story by Kate Chopin (and if you haven't, do go find it!). It is about a wealthy woman in 19th century New Orleans who is informed of her husband's death in a train accident. Upon hearing the news, she goes to her room wishing not to be disturbed. At first, she goes through shock and grief. But within a short time, her inner horizon has opened up to the reality that she is now completely free in a way she has never been before (and that few women of that era or any other era have been). Because she is well off, she will be completely independent and able to make her own decisions. Of course, there's a surprise ending to this feminist classic, widening her gamut of emotions.
The other day, I was reading a fictional story in which an 18th century young woman has a serious discussion with her father. Turns out he wishes to give her some property, to deed it over to her because he is concerned for her welfare as an unmarried woman.
The second I read this, I started on my own inner journey. My very first thought was self-pitying, sort of, "Why didn't I ever hear these words? Even in the fictional 1700's, a father had the capacity to care about a daughter's future, and provide for her. At least some women (fictional or otherwise) must experience this kind of love!" And yet reading the next page (which probably took me a minute or two to read), I joined this fictional character in coming step-by-step to the shattering realization that this "gift" was contingent on her marrying a certain man and -- this being two hundred-plus years ago --- the second that happened, the property would revert to her husband. It was all effectively a dishonest lure into a trap that would only enrich the men in her life.
I inevitably had to take another look at the father-daughter interaction I wrote about a few days ago ("The Black Hole with No White Dress", August 26). Because my father's finances were a disaster in the late '70's, rather than declare that I should never marry, why didn't Dad push me to marry a rich entitled WASP prince, what in ensuing decades would be called a "Master of the Universe"? He would have benefitted far more around the edges of that scenario than in my wandering mystic one! (This is where I sense the possibility that he actually understood me deep, deep, deep down...)
Oh dear. I guess you can only laugh...the strange angels on your path, eh? Human, animal, fictional, and otherwise.
Years ago, I tried to write a futuristic novel. Perhaps today's activity, just for fun, is to write my "Story of a Minute" with the fulfilling and respectful ending I want, on behalf of all of us!!!!
