December 6th, 2021 - Marriage Quarantine
Dear TNY,
Once again I’m in a new location, propelled by an unwillingness to give up on the adventure, and I’ve just read “Marriage Quarantine”.
I didn’t hate it.
I’m going to premise this review by saying that in both art and life, I’m sentimental. I have seen two of my sister’s shows in the last week (she’s an active musician) and I cried both times. Because her struggle was beautiful, you know? I cannot be bothered to tell my sister that I care about her or care about what she does, though, (don’t worry, she doesn’t read these letters so she’ll never know; also, see all previous letters about me not existing for reasons why), because that would make her happy to know that I cared, but the other day, when she dragged me to some super fancy, +40 person, rich Thanksgiving dinner where she was playing (and you know it’s rich when the family is paying someone to play live music at a Thanksgiving dinner), after she was done playing I tried to tell her I was really proud of her but I got all choked up and started crying and the words finally came out and tilted her head and said, “Why?” Why indeed. Why couldn’t she just have said, “Aww,” or, “That’s really nice of you; thank you,” or just given me a fucking hug? So I just stopped talking, my intention clearly lost in the warm, perfectly balanced, HEPA-filtered air in the mansion by Puget Sound that we were about to leave.
So I’m saying I’m sentimental.
There were some scenes in this story that really played to that aspect. I really liked when he adjusted her hair in the wind. I like that she noticed his hands and the cheesecake with the shitty sauce and the plastic fork. These are the quiet moments that matter, when love is found in everyday shit. And I’m here for that.
At first I found the author’s choice to float us back and forth between the past and present, spoken words v thoughts, and M.J.’s and Daniel’s POV…I thought these were confusing choices. But as I read on, I could see a harmonious intention to this, especially considering the object of this piece, as far as I could see, was to present this quarantine bubble of relationship between people who had been together for a very long time. And that ethereal floating, I think, is a good choice for setting that up because it sees time the way they both see time at this stage in their lives and their union. I would, I believe, tighten some of it a little bit, though. While I thought the ending was a little too clever, entwining two moments in which Daniel says, “I do,” but the impact is in two different places and has two completely different connotations, I thought it was done well. It was tight. The conversation about the dog was much looser as it passed through the timespace. Weirdly, I thought the dog conversation was very good at characterizing the couple, though. Just less tight.
And I liked the dog conversation because it was obvious she was a terrible fucking listener and he just stopped talking because of it, and she was oblivious to that. So, real life!
On that note…M.J. seems to be made out to be…I don’t even know…a stereotypical nagging wife? Like, in the first paragraph I made the note that I was glad I wasn’t married to this woman based on the narrator’s description of how she spoke and listened. And later, Daniel had wanted to share stuff with her, but didn’t because he knew she would find it unimportant. And then at the end, after talking a great deal, she asks him if he has thoughts. If he fucking has thoughts! Jesus Christ. Motherfucker is a human being. Of course he does.
So, you know, I didn’t hate this. I thought the idea, this prism of time and the way it was presented, was interesting. How two people exist together. Couples are fascinating to me anyway. So I liked that aspect. And I liked some of the scenes that we floated through. But, I guess, I wasn’t moved, per se. Because…I don’t know. It wasn’t enough? Or what of it there was was not enough to cause an impact.
Again, I’m not mad at it.
I’m mad at other shit. But, maybe I’ll save that for another letter.
Alright, back into the world I go.
Hugs and “accidental” butt touches (and I mean that reciprocally you aggressive sonsabitches; deep down you’re just as pervy as I am and you know it).
Nick
