“Desire”
by Esther Freud
from the September 27, 2021 issue of The New Yorker
I know Esther Freud’s name because she wrote a lovely foreword to Tove Jansson’s marvelous The Summer Book. She is the author of nine novels, including the recently released I Couldn’t Love You More, though I don’t know any of them. If you do, please comment below. Again, I love The Summer Book so much, and I figure any friend of it is a friend of mine.
“Desire” is a relatively short piece for The New Yorker, so I was able to jump in this morning and read it, though I don’t have time right now to share my thoughts entirely. I’ll start with the first lines, for anyone curious about just that much:
“The three of you are sisters, surely?” A man, awash with drink, waylaid us as we fought through to the lounge. Our mother smiled, eyes fixed on an empty row of seats, while Bea and I stepped sideways to avoid the steam cloud of his breath.
“Quick.” A couple were snaking their way toward our chairs and, lifting Max, Mum rushed to intercept them. The boat was cheaper than the plane, the night boat cheaper still, and it was possible, if you were fast, to find enough seats to allow you to lie down. The man, red-faced, lost his footing and, one arm flailing, caught Bea around the waist. “Fuck off,” she said, yanking herself free.
“Remember, not a word about the move,” our mother said, when we were settled, and I glanced at the dark curtains of her hair, her fine, drawn skin and worried eyes. Bea had twisted around to check the rubbery doors, slapping back and forth into the bar. “Sure,” she said, and I agreed, and Max, who’d only recently turned three, ran a train along her arm.
I’ll share my thoughts soon in the comments. In the meantime, please feel free to share your thoughts on “Desire.”
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Who desires what?
something just occurred to me. Freud is primarily a novelist. perhaps this is an excerpt. that would explain its fuzzy and unsatisfactory quality.
William,
Maybe writers can only make money on novels and short stories function as marketing such that if the reader likes the short story enough, they will purchase the novel or a novel of the writer’s. It must take a whole lot more effort to write an outstanding short story because even if it is shorter than a novel. The beginning, middle and end have to be so perfect, like a really high end sports car. And if they are very well engineered, they can form a single chapter drop in module within a novel. I think Rachel Kushner was able to do that with her short story, Stanville, which was adapted from her novel, “The Mars Room”. So a short story that has no connection to a novel is probably not financially viable unless it help market the author’s brand.
Larry —
My wife would like your economic analysis. Her mantra for all things is “it’s all about the money.”
I like your idea that writing a good short story is more difficult than writing a good novel (other than the amount of work it takes, of course).
I must agree. This is an excerpt from a novel and it doesn’t really make me want to read more. This seems very familiar turf in general. I can’t think of a thing in this story whether stylistically or thematically or structurally that is unique. We have a tale oft told–a teenager/novelist surrogate with a wilder older sibling, the poor choices in marriage leading to divorce and its effect on children, the runaway wife with her kids in tow seeking something (in this case I’m not sure what besides sheer escape), the disapproval of a more traditional older generation etc. It was readable enough and I finished it, but I can’t say I’ve much desire to dip in any further.
well said.
that’s 3 male responses. perhaps the story speaks to women more clearly.
I don’t think this is an excerpt, guys. Freud’s most recent novel came out just a few months ago, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone publish an excerpt this far before any hope of the next novel. It would certainly not work to build buzz. But it seems that she also just considers this a story. Here’s a bit from her New Yorker interview:
You recently published your ninth novel, “I Couldn’t Love You More,” which explores the legacy of Ireland’s homes for children born out of wedlock through three generations of women. Did you write this story while you were working on the novel? Do you see it as a companion piece?
I wrote this story not long after finishing “I Couldn’t Love You More.” Ireland was still very much on my mind, and it seemed I had more to say on the subject. I was teaching a creative-writing class and asked my students to write a story with the title “The Journey.” This was what I came up with.
Esther Freud is a British author, who has written 9 novels of which the last must be the excerpt taken from her most recent novel. She seems to have broken through into ongoing success having built up enough readership to sustain 9 books, plus her first book, Hideous Kinky, was made into film. After her first book, the stricter rules for getting published and read probably eased so she experienced more free rein in terms of what she would want to write. But to duplicate the success of one’s first novel seven or eight more times must be challenging. Also in a novel, a writer doesn’t need to be as tightly focused as in a short story. It may have been difficult to get the heart of her new novel into this particular short story. But she always has her readers of her previous works tracking where her new novel goes and any relationships to past novels.
William,
Your wife’s mantra is so on point concerning so many things such as where you can or cannot see a particular film on a particular streaming platform.
Authors don’t want to see the relatively piddly sums of money F. Scott Fitzgerald was paid per short story and how his novels never made big money 20 or 30 years after he died.
The sci-fi writer of the story Bladerunner was based on Philip K. Dick churned out novels, his exhausting marathon writing writing sessions fueled by amphetamines and Chinese takeout food when he could afford it. But again no big money only way after he died.
Writers want to live a decent life while alive off the proceeds of their writing efforts. So you can’t blame them or shouldn’t.
Amen to all that
Trevor —
Your quote from Freud’s interview only reinforces my notion that this is an excerpt. Only not a prospective excerpt, but a retrospective excerpt. I’m not being facetious. Freud says —
“Ireland was still very much on my mind, and it seemed I had more to say on the subject.”
She was writing the story in the context of the novel, only slightly different from a standard excerpt. Within the context of the novel, the story might make more sense. Someone who has read the novel could inform us on that point. For those of us who did read the novel, there is no context to ground the story.
This story also left me baffled, and I have more questions than productive thoughts. In response to your opening salvo of ‘Who desires what?,” what role does Dylan’s Desire play in this story, and is that the Desire of the title?
From a woman’s perspective:
My favorite aspect of the book are the multiple ways that the women’s vulnerability is shown, especially in contrast to the 3 year old brother who seems to act as the foil. I will say, the title, Desire, is strange. Is it a desire for stability? For a new life? For gender equality? That, I do not know and don’t think I will read further to find out (if this truly is a excerpt, which seems to puzzle everyone even more that the actual short story).
I was very touched by the story which is what led me to this site. The narrator’s uncertainty, the instability of the family, the escape of mum and now her own daughter. Desire is what keeps them all moving, looking, searching.
I loved this short story which I devoured when I found it in the New Yorker. I was not familiar with Esther Freud but was curious to find out if she was descended from Sigmund. Yup. I was interested in the Irish connection of the woman in the story and her fear of losing her children as an unwed mother since I had read of the homes for unwed mothers in Ireland and how horribly the girls were treated. Reading about Esther’s mother’s background clarified the origin of that element of the story. I have a similar background to Esther’s mother having been raised by two practicing Catholics who expected their children to commit fully to that religion. However, shortly after my ex-husband and I married in the Catholic Church, we abandoned it. None of my siblings practice it either. My parents weren’t happy to discover I had given up my religion. I think my mother might have baptized my daughters in the bathtub when she came for a visit. I’m planning on reading “Hideous Kinky” next.
Susan —
I am on board with you. My wife and I were both raised Catholic and went to religious schools, but we both slipped away when we became adults. I love your story about your mother surreptitiously baptizing your daughters. Can’t have hurt.
Wouldn’t over-read the choice of title. In Freud (S not E) Memory and Desire are inextricable. The Dylan album serves to precisely place this time in the narrator’s memory and milieu. Harrison’s contemporaneous album hawked by Krishna’s is I believe “Lving in the material world“. Would that have overweighted the title?