The pull of the moon: a novel by Elizabeth Berg

Author:Elizabeth Berg [Elizabeth Berg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Roman
ISBN: 9780345515421
Published: 2010-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

Dear Martin,

I’m staying in a little place in northern Minnesota that is like a cabin/motel. There are six small, detached units: a little house for everyone, and everyone gets a tiny front porch, too. There’s a kitchenette stocked with mismatched dishes and pots and pans, so I went to a grocery store to get some supplies. The notion of cooking again seemed appealing; you get tired of eating out. In addition to which I was eager to eat off the blue willow plate, there was one of those in the cupboard—a coffee cup with pansies, too.

When I got to the grocery store, the oddest thing happened. I found it very, very difficult to buy anything. I would pick something up, then think, no, it’s Ruthie who really likes pineapple. No, Martin is the one who loves London broil. I wanted to get something special, a real treat, something I liked to cook and liked even more to eat, but everything I picked up, I put back. Finally, I leaned against the dairy case and thought, well, come on, Nan, what do YOU really, really like? And then I thought, my God. I don’t know. I’ve forgotten.

Would this happen to you, Martin? If you went into the grocery store looking for something to make just for you (well, I know you never cook for yourself, but pretend you do), would you just walk right over and get everything? I think you would. I think you’d go right up to things, pick them up, pay for them, take them home, cook them and eat them with no sense of anything but pleasure. I guess you’d watch TV while you ate, or read the paper. There would be nothing tangled up inside you, no guilt and despair trying to work their way into the lettuce and baguette and breast of chicken. It is a case of feeling that you deserve things, that they are there for you; and it is something women seem to struggle with, almost without exception, and I don’t know why. I don’t know why men don’t struggle with it. I don’t know where your sense of entitlement comes from. Well, yes I do. It comes from the way you were raised, from everyone telling you, one way or another, that yours is the earth to inherit. That’s true, Martin, and you know it, and there’s no need here for any anger. I mean, I’m not angry, don’t you be. I’m just wondering. I really am. I am just wondering and wondering and wondering. Goddamn it. All our lives, we hand it over. All our lives, we

Well, maybe I am a little angry. But it’s not at you. It’s more of a class action suit type thing.

Anyway, I stayed in that store for the longest time, walking up and down the aisles, thinking, Well what? I actually got pissed off at myself, you’ll probably be happy to know. Finally I went over to the meat counter and bought the biggest turkey they had.

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