Mrs. Golightly and Other Stories by Ethel Wilson

Author:Ethel Wilson [Wilson, Ethel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-55199-409-3
Publisher: McClelland & Stewart
Published: 2010-09-21T00:00:00+00:00

TRUTH AND MRS. FORRESTER

I

“I don’t object to truth being stranger than fiction,” said Mrs. Forrester to Laura who was young and dark and beautiful and sitting in the corner of the couch across the room, “what I object to is that truth is so hard to tell, while fiction is the easiest thing in the world. It is rarely,” she confessed without shame, “that I find myself speaking truthfully. I do not say ‘quite’ truthfully, because there again one begins to dodge about, with one’s ‘quites’, and ‘absolutelys’, and ‘virtuallys’, and all the nonsensical adverbs (are they adverbs? you ought to know, Laura), that people use in order to shy away from truth. Another thing is that truth is often very uncomfortable. It is quite (there I go!) easy for me to tell you truthfully that I enjoy sitting in this armchair talking to you or being silent because you are able to enjoy silence, and also you are an admirable listener at the times when I wish to hear my own voice, and I can listen, too, but not so much, and because I admire your large dark eyes like an odalisque’s (no, not by Cézanne or is it Matisse), but your hair is at this moment untidy enough to spoil your beauty and you should do something about it, and you should reduce. But when it comes to some people …”

“It is remarkable,” said Laura smiling gloriously at her adopted aunt, “c’est tout à fait remarquable que si …”

“Stop being French and talk English,” said Mrs. Forrester. “We’ll save our French till Miss Riley comes in and use it for defence. What is remarkable?”

“It is remarkable,” said Laura in her English voice that always retained her mother’s R’s, “that although I am young and you are …”

“Yes, old, say it; old,” said Mrs. Forrester vehemently.

“Yes, old but not old, we do understand what each other means, and what is true, and what is false, and what is terribly” (how her R’s rolled and rolled) “ridiculously funny. And it is formidable how if Cousin Max – for example I say Cousin Max or Miss Riley – should come in and talk and talk as they do, that you and I would both act our parts as though they had been written for us, without prompting, and each of us would know it. That is truth. Or is it lying?”

“I’m an amateur and you are nearly a professional, but I understand what you mean,” said Mrs. Forrester, “and it is strange (still talking about truth) how in the presence of Cousin Max, or Miss Riley, or Lee Lorimer Smith – all of them nice people – in order to preserve one’s integrity – that is, truth – one proceeds to act, which is to lie. At least I find it so. I don’t know if they also act, but I don’t seem to think so. I think their integrity is more consistent than mine. But at any rate it seems to be always I – we – who try to conform.

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