Last night I was at Daunt Books in Marylebone talking about Vivian Gornick’s The Odd Woman and the City. One of the things I reflected on during the conversation with Kat Lister is how Gornick is drawn towards the same subjects over and over. We’re in a time loop with her, revisiting the relationships that vex and enliven her. I never get bored of her mother, her friendships, her lovers, the strangers on the street. Each scene with them (to borrow from Gornick) is a twist of the kaleidoscope – a new arrangement to consider, a fresh angle on human relations, our failure and yearning to know ourselves.
Gornick’s memoir is a refusal to arrive at a solved state. It’s not that she doesn’t gain insight and understanding – it’s that she recognises there’s always more that might arrive, that the confidence of clarity may eventually be disavowed as new perspectives arise. Self-knowledge is a constant struggle; we have to be revisionists of ourselves.
When I’ve occasionally (but very rarely these days) self-sabotaged by looking at reader reviews of Arrangements in Blue a common complaint of the negative ones is that I don’t learn enough, don’t promote the single life as an empowered state and don’t give the reader a happy ending. I understand that these readers came to the book in need of something I never intended to offer. It was, it is, more important for me to reflect life as it is. Self-knowledge doesn’t always translate into actions that demonstrate it.