edited and with an introduction by Stephen Emerson
foreword by Lydia Davis
“Detox?” The Champ scoffed. “Never detox. Retox! That’s the ticket!”
502
How come I never heard of Lucia Berlin? As usual, I discovered her thanks to our library. A book of short stories. Let’s give it a shot, I thought. And a hell of a shot it was! Every story is a little — or a big — treasure.
Most of the stories are, at least in part, autobiographical, whether the protagonist is called Carlotta, Dolores, Eloise, Lu, Maggie or Maria. She must have had a fascinating life. (In case you are reading this book offline, like I did, there is A Note on Lucia Berlin in the end.) And a wonderful sense of humour. In his introduction, Stephen Emerson writes:
What her work has, is joy. A precious commodity, not encountered all that often. Balzac, Isaac Babel, García Márquez come to mind.
What a company!
In her lifetime, Berlin published 76 stories. This posthumous volume has 43. So read it and you’ll read most of Lucia Berlin and will want more.
Doing everything wrong not only reassures them you are thorough, it gives them a chance to be assertive and a “boss.” Most American women are very uncomfortable about having servants. They don’t know what to do while you are there. Mrs. Burke does things like re-check her Christmas card list and iron last year’s wrapping paper. In August.
Try to work for Jews or Blacks. You get lunch. But mostly Jewish and Black women respect work, the work you do and also they are not at all ashamed of spending the entire day doing absolutely nothing. They are paying you, right?
The Christian Eastern Stars are another story. So they won’t feel guilty always try to be doing something they never would do. Stand on the stove to clean an exploded Coca-Cola off the ceiling. Shut yourself inside the glass shower. Shove all the furniture, including the piano, against the door. They would never do that, besides, they can’t get in.
A Manual for Cleaning Ladies
Over lunch Ruth told me that she had started to feel old and in a rut so she had joined a support group. The Merry Pranksters, or M.P., which really stood for Meno Pause. Ruth always said this like it was two words. The group was dedicated to putting more zip into women’s lives. They focused on the members themselves. The last one had been Hannah. The group convinced her to go to Weight Watchers, to Rancho del Sol spa, take bossa nova lessons and then to get liposuction and a face-lift. She looked wonderful but was in two new groups now. One for women who had face-lifts but were still depressed and another for “Women Who Love Too Much.” Ruth sighed, “Hannah’s always been the kind of woman who has affairs with stevedores.”
Stevedores! Ruth used some surprising words, like heretofore and hullabaloo. Said things like she missed having “That Time of the Month.” It always was such a warm and cozy time.
A Love Affair
“Open your door, Ms. Moran. This is Officer Wong.”
I stashed the bottle in the bookcase and opened the door. “Hello, Officer Wong. How can I help you?”
“Do you own a Mazda 626?”
“You know I do, sir.”
“Where is that car, Miss Moran?”
“Well, it’s not in here.”
502
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