{"id":13100,"date":"2014-06-03T14:00:21","date_gmt":"2014-06-03T18:00:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/?p=13100"},"modified":"2014-06-03T14:03:15","modified_gmt":"2014-06-03T18:03:15","slug":"jane-gardam-hetty-sleeping","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/2014\/06\/03\/jane-gardam-hetty-sleeping\/","title":{"rendered":"Jane Gardam: “Hetty Sleeping”"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cSo what did you do?\u201d she asked in the end.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was leaning back still with his eyes closed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGot married I suppose.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\"TheThe dialogue exchange above is key, both in “Hetty Sleeping” and in terms of what I think Gardam is after generally. People, in her stories, often do things while they\u2019re thinking about something else altogether. They\u2019re never in one place: they\u2019re daydreamers, yes, but something else is going on. They\u2019re constantly bemused by absolutely everything, in particular, themselves and who on earth they actually are. They\u2019re suggestible in every conceivable way and exist in a state of constant deliberation. As such, even those closest to them (often more than anyone else) can appear quite alien. So what did you do? I got married. Everything stripped down to a curious essential statement that tells us nothing beyond how lives pass quickly, and how their events glide across who we are like glances.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s part of Gardam\u2019s brilliance that she manages to cast pretty much everything in an odd light: she removes the anomic anesthetic from the everyday and imbues supposedly matter-of-fact behavior with depth and strangeness. We peek, through her eloquent eye, behind the glossy exterior at the messy innards of lives, which she impels benevolent order upon, that the gulf between the two might be more negotiable.<\/p>\n

Her characters seem to be experiencing or re-experiencing a period of clarity as to this central fact: life is not remotely <\/em>run of the mill, she reminds us, and nor should it be. In its chaotic impurities lie a lot of its magic. The miraculous nature of what she\u2019s doing is partially due, I think, to her insistence that everything is salvageable, that it\u2019s OK to be fallible as we all are. The intoxicating, eternal elements that comprise a life\u2019s experiences are not necessarily grand or linear or particularly, as they occur, comfortable, in Gardam\u2019s fictional universe.<\/p>\n

These tend to be characters constricted in some way: emotionally, spiritually, physically, socially. They are languishing, incomplete, none the wiser regardless of their age or experience, which tends to count for very little: each moment brings with it numerous obstacles that seem unvanquishable. And the act of the stories seems often to be to place them up against a situation in which other people seem to exacerbate their own alienation, and yet draw them out of it a little.<\/p>\n

\"JaneThis is a world that\u2019s all the more fun for it being disarmingly hopeful, <\/em>whatever unfortunate truths have been dredged from beneath the surface. Gardam is belligerently persuasive as to the necessity for giving a positive spin its due, and therefore a delight to spend time with.<\/p>\n

Hetty is a mother of two children, and they\u2019re enjoying their holiday (immediately, of course: where\u2019s dad?) on a Connemara beach when she notices someone familiar in the near distance: Heneker, her relationship with whom isn\u2019t immediately obvious. Years have passed since they saw one another, and we will discover why.<\/p>\n

She doubts it\u2019s him, then realizes it is him, after all, but play-acts (or decides she doesn\u2019t want it to be him — he is perhaps, despite her being disarmed at the sight of him, someone she wants to suppress and forget: maybe a more interesting possibility) that it isn\u2019t Heneker and can\u2019t be.<\/p>\n

He was standing on a pale strip of sand near the sea, looking down into the cold water, quiet as he had always been, peaceful, unmistakable.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHow could <\/em>it be?\u201d she thought. \u201cWhat nonsense! Of course it can\u2019t be.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Of course it is <\/em>Heneker, but who is he, and what is his significance?<\/p>\n

He observes the children, who \u201csplash past him into the sea, fling themselves into it in fans of spray, shrieking\u201d and it\u2019s at this point that she casts aside all doubt. A wishfully framed moment on her part, establishing beyond any doubt not only his identity but someone who might\u2019ve made up the missing familial element.<\/p>\n

He eventually breaks the spell and walks straight up to her, dropping down beside her in the sand as she considers him now with a beard, which she doesn\u2019t like, and yet he, donning one, \u201c…looks all right. He always did look all right. Wherever he was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHello, Hetty,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s a long time.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a funny place,\u201d she said. He smiled, not looking away from her face. \u201cTo meet again,\u201d she said, \u201cIt\u2019s a long way from Earl\u2019s Court. Connemara.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cA holiday,\u201d he said gently and began to take the sand and sift it through his fingers. Her heart started to lurch again seeing his fingers. \u201cI know each nail,\u201d she thought, \u201cI know each line on them. Every half moon. Oh God!\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Everything has fallen away: intermittent years, geography, age, defenses. They are back where they were then, emotionally: they haven\u2019t advanced. They have “moved on” but nothing has changed. Gardam isolates the uttered \u201cA holiday\u201d for a very good reason, and it\u2019s a typical Gardam moment. Events, time, movement, all shrink to a single point: the reason for their both being on the same beach at the same time is an insignificant time marker up against their unforeseen reunion. Holidays, things people do and go on, actions, gestures, are not part of who they are or how they feel. Their carefully cultivated adult selves have melted in a moment.<\/p>\n

But, of course, as fragile as a persona is, it\u2019s easily reassembled, and a cinematic \u201cshriek from the sea\u201d punctures their swift re-entanglement as they resume their roles and Hetty rebuilds her defences by running through her post-Heneker biography. We get a brief mental glimpse of how her outward poise is struggling against inner turbulence \u2013 (This can\u2019t be happening! We arrived yesterday. We\u2019ve hardly been here ten minutes! Heneker!) \u2013 as Heneker imposes himself upon her: he holds her feet as she runs through her story, eventually letting go, as she tells him that her husband is:<\/p>\n

\u201cA banker.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cChrist!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know any bankers? Men with international work?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, thank God. \u2018Men with international work.\u2019 Do you know any painters still?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo you do any painting?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

After a long time she said no.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

A problem for the reviewer: it\u2019s very much all on the page during dialogue exchanges. Gardam simply does a whole lot more with dialogue than most writers. The characters, not the omniscient narrator, reveal most about themselves, entirely fitting with Gardam’s regard for them. She is enthused by them and trusts them: she has no interest in admonishing or caricaturing them. They are left to their\u00a0own devices and any upbraiding is done during conversations or inner-monologues.<\/p>\n

So skillfully hewn is this study of two former lovers who have gone their separate ways that I\u2019m aware I run the risk of stating in diminished terms what Gardam has so precisely and quickly established: in three pages we understand that Hetty has made a decision to vanquish one kind of life for another and that Heneker\u2019s reappearance has posed her a question she\u2019s struggling to answer with much conviction, both verbally and mentally. She\u2019s anguished by the reunion and yet it excites her: because her new life is calm and secure, not thrilling, in comparison and this collision has reignited something dormant and smothered. She is happy and much more in control of her life now, her weakness for Heneker, a mercurial figure, had been abated, until now. Just how staunch, ultimately, her defences will be against Heneker form the compelling element of the remainder of the story.<\/p>\n

From that initial reintroduction Hetty flees the beach, alarmed at her rapid susceptibility to Heneker\u2019s mere presence.<\/p>\n

She thought, \u201cHe ought to be picked out in jewels he\u2019s so beautiful. He\u2019s wicked as ever. Oh God, I love him.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Despite Hetty\u2019s endangered quick getaway Heneker charmingly inveigles himself into their lives later, further imposing himself with nonchalant propinquity, delighting the children with juvenile ingratiations, helping out, an importunate visitor hardly repelled with much urgency. They ultimately, as they must, go over what brought their old lives together to an end.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt might have been like this,\u201d he said at last. She felt her heart begin to thump and hung on to the chair. (This is Heneker. <\/em>Heneker I have thought of every day.)<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

He said, \u201cYes. Oh God!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou never asked me,\u201d she said. \u201cNot once.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell you know why.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know why.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh Hetty\u2014\u201c<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know why. I never knew why. I couldn\u2019t ask you. All that year. That room…The bed made out of ropes. The roof like a greenhouse and the curtain over the corner.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhere our clothes were.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

It\u2019s difficult to say, ultimately, what exactly prevented their relationship from moving beyond a kind of wistful, bohemian clich\u00e9, two heedless artists on the periphery. Other, perhaps, than that very fact: Hetty — the one who left, we learn — wanted something more recognizably adult <\/em>or substantial: a rich banker, children, solidity. The romantic thrill wasn\u2019t enough, then<\/em>. But the potent connection they share is intact, even if their chances of a life together were aborted by Hetty, who is helpless to the now accomplished artist who has returned to turn her head.<\/p>\n

They are trapped inexorably in each other\u2019s orbit soon enough, following a gradual rekindling: he sketches her and they reminisce further each evening, until a moment arrives beyond which there will be no return. She shakes herself free of what seemed inevitable but there are other evenings ahead, and another date is made. He is late: she falls asleep, only to reawaken to his titular comment.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve never been as late as this.\u201d She heard her voice, high, accusing. Oh God! Like a wife. Like then. It\u2019s no different.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The fantasy is dented somewhat by her recollection not of how great it was or could have been but how often it wasn\u2019t: how it had become. Yet, still, shortly thereafter:<\/p>\n

\u201cSleep with me, Hetty,\u201d he said and she said, \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Between them on the banister the telephone began to ring.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt can\u2019t! It doesn\u2019t!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, it is.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

And it\u2019s the soon-to-be-arrived husband making a timely intercession. The moment has passed permanently: back to how it was. Her reassuringly unexciting partner, Charles, restores equilibrium, much to Heneker\u2019s despair. He implores her: \u201cThere was never anyone but you, Het,\u201d before leaving, thwarted. And before morning arrives, has run off with a barmaid. Ouch!<\/p>\n

The final moment involves Charles picking up Heneker\u2019s sketch of Hetty.<\/p>\n

\u201cI say, what\u2019s this? \u2018Hetty Sleeping\u2019.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cGive me that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cNo. Let me look. It\u2019s lovely. Wonderful.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u201cIt\u2019s mine. Charles \u2013 give it me. Give it me. Give <\/em>it me.\u201d<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He won\u2019t: he examines it and places it \u201cdelicately\u201d down.<\/p>\n

Pouring tea for her he said, \u201cSweet Hetty, wake up soon.\u201d<\/p>\n

“Hetty Sleeping” is moving and bittersweet and plentifully both due to Gardam\u2019s brilliance at leaving just enough in to make everything unequivocal (apart from the central character) and just enough out that you fill in the emotional blanks and lend the economical, precise, evocative prose enough of yourself to bind the story into something extremely affecting and personal and indelible. In 20 pages we\u2019ve dipped in and out of a vividly teetering life and we\u2019re all the better for it, even if Hetty has finally (re)discovered little, if anything, beyond her own aching ambivalence. Anyway, she gets it right, twice, in a roundabout way, chastened by a near disaster, presumably grateful but, as a fascinating, very human character, probably likely to succumb, should Hetty and Heneker find themselves yoked together by fate once again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lee reviews “Hetty Sleeping,” the first story in The Stories of Jane Gardam<\/em>, just out today in the U.S. from Europa Editions and published last month in the U.K. by Little, Brown. Read the full post<\/u><\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8,"featured_media":12966,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"libsyn-item-id":0,"libsyn-show-id":0,"libsyn-post-error":"","libsyn-post-error_post-type":"","libsyn-post-error_post-permissions":"","libsyn-post-error_api":"","playlist-podcast-url":"","libsyn-episode-thumbnail":"","libsyn-episode-widescreen_image":"","libsyn-episode-blog_image":"","libsyn-episode-background_image":"","libsyn-post-episode-category-selection":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_thumbnail":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_theme":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_height":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_width":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_placement":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_download_link":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_download_link_text":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_custom_color":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-explicit":"","libsyn-post-episode":"","libsyn-post-episode-update-id3":"","libsyn-post-episode-release-date":"","libsyn-post-episode-simple-download":"","libsyn-release-date":"","libsyn-post-update-release-date":"","libsyn-is_draft":"","libsyn-new-media-media":"","libsyn-post-episode-subtitle":"","libsyn-new-media-image":"","libsyn-post-episode-keywords":"","libsyn-post-itunes":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-number":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-season-number":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-type":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-title":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-author":"","libsyn-destination-releases":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data-enabled":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data-input-enabled":false,"libsyn-post-episode-premium_state":"","libsyn-episode-shortcode":"","libsyn-episode-embedurl":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"Lee reviews Jane Gardam's \"Hetty Sleeping,\" the first story in her new collection, out today from @EuropaEditions:","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[333],"tags":[560],"coauthors":[516],"class_list":["post-13100","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-jane-gardam","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/The-Stories-of-Jane-Gardam-Cover.jpg?fit=1594%2C2480&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pqqvZ-3pi","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13100","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13100"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13100\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13104,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13100\/revisions\/13104"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12966"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13100"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13100"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13100"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=13100"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}