Author Spotlight
Jean Rhys Contest
There was mention of Jean Rhys in a comment recently here at htmlgiant and it made me think of her. When I was a wee lass, like 19 to 24 or so, I was obsessed with Jean Rhys (and other stuff). I read all of her novels, (that didn’t take very long), all of her short stories, even wierd fragments, her unfinished autobiography, and then I did two sort of wierd things: read a biography of her (well, maybe that is not so wierd) and painted a painting of her from the picture of the cover of the biography, Jean Rhys: Life and Work by Carole Angier.
After that biography, I did not read another biography for maybe ten years. The experience was THAT disturbing. In fact, I vowed never to read a biography of any of my heros again. I have since relaxed that rule- I have mellowed with age, like many do–but man, what a defining moment. I was so horrified with Jean Rhys and so heartbroken at what she was really like as a human being. I felt-robbed. Now, as I’ve gotten older and more realistic as to how weak and troubled most human beings are, I feel less disturbed by Rhys. Still disturbed, but less so. To give you an idea of what I am talking about, here is an excerpt from Jean Rhys: Life and Work:
And sometimes she snapped. Then she hit him as she’d hit Leslie (note: her previous husband); and like Leslie he pretended that something else had happened.
Once, at least he couldn’t pretend, because Jean attacked him so loudly the neighbors heard her….for after it Max (note: current husband) was more in the hospital than out of it. The Woodwards took over; together with the doctor they had Max removed and taken to hospital.
That’s right, people: Jean Rhys beat the crap out of her husbands. Maybe that doesn’t bum you out, but it bummed me out so severely, I didn’t read anything about any of my heros for TEN YEARS. Anyway, this post relates also to a fun discussion that occurred in the recent Joyce Carol Oates post- what happens when someone you love (even if you don’t know them) disappoints you beyond belief? Here is the contest: In the comment section, write a brief story of putting-someone-on-a-pedestal and then feeling like your heart got ripped out when you realize, he/she is, bascially, an awful person. I’ll send you my Jean Rhys painting, if I can find it, and some books. So, maybe, just some books. This does not have to be about writers, but it can be. It’s just about wanting to hear your stories of disappointment!
Tags: jean rhys
but there are so many. mom, dad, siblings, friends, writers, athletes. i wouldn’t even know where to start.
but there are so many. mom, dad, siblings, friends, writers, athletes. i wouldn’t even know where to start.
but there are so many. mom, dad, siblings, friends, writers, athletes. i wouldn’t even know where to start.
Yes, people and life are disappointing.
i’m big on disappointment.
i’m big on disappointment.
i’m big on disappointment.
that sounded retarded.
really i’m just trying to kill time since i’m filling in at work today.
that sounded retarded.
really i’m just trying to kill time since i’m filling in at work today.
that sounded retarded.
really i’m just trying to kill time since i’m filling in at work today.
haha. No worries Ryan. I should be cleaning up cat urine, my full time job, but i am playing hookey.
amen to that. you never disappoint, pr, that’s what i like about you.
i should have brought an extra book with me today… i have to find a way to drag out the last 20 pages of the one i’m reading.
amen to that. you never disappoint, pr, that’s what i like about you.
i should have brought an extra book with me today… i have to find a way to drag out the last 20 pages of the one i’m reading.
amen to that. you never disappoint, pr, that’s what i like about you.
i should have brought an extra book with me today… i have to find a way to drag out the last 20 pages of the one i’m reading.
learning that big bird isn’t a bird at all. It’s a person in a bird suit. i’ve never trusted humanity since then.
learning that big bird isn’t a bird at all. It’s a person in a bird suit. i’ve never trusted humanity since then.
learning that big bird isn’t a bird at all. It’s a person in a bird suit. i’ve never trusted humanity since then.
finding out that t.s. eliot was an antisemitic bastard broke my heart, or that heidegger was a nazi asshole, or that miles davis slapped his wife around, or that charles mingus was a self-proclaimed pimping-ho womanizer. i’m sure there’re others i can’t think of right now.
but when i need reassurance i think of john coltrane. john muthafucking coltrane. then all is (al)right.
finding out that t.s. eliot was an antisemitic bastard broke my heart, or that heidegger was a nazi asshole, or that miles davis slapped his wife around, or that charles mingus was a self-proclaimed pimping-ho womanizer. i’m sure there’re others i can’t think of right now.
but when i need reassurance i think of john coltrane. john muthafucking coltrane. then all is (al)right.
finding out that t.s. eliot was an antisemitic bastard broke my heart, or that heidegger was a nazi asshole, or that miles davis slapped his wife around, or that charles mingus was a self-proclaimed pimping-ho womanizer. i’m sure there’re others i can’t think of right now.
but when i need reassurance i think of john coltrane. john muthafucking coltrane. then all is (al)right.
To clarify, I wasn’t disappointed by Joyce Carol Oates in the slightest. I thought the lecture went really well and I appreciated her blunt honesty; guest lecturers usually take a more docile, dull approach. I was actually pleasantly surprised and I don’t care if she thinks blogging is a waste of time… I left out the fact that she followed that comment with a qualifier: she doesn’t really read blogs that much. And when would she have the time? She’s written something like 100 books! Sheesh!
To clarify, I wasn’t disappointed by Joyce Carol Oates in the slightest. I thought the lecture went really well and I appreciated her blunt honesty; guest lecturers usually take a more docile, dull approach. I was actually pleasantly surprised and I don’t care if she thinks blogging is a waste of time… I left out the fact that she followed that comment with a qualifier: she doesn’t really read blogs that much. And when would she have the time? She’s written something like 100 books! Sheesh!
To clarify, I wasn’t disappointed by Joyce Carol Oates in the slightest. I thought the lecture went really well and I appreciated her blunt honesty; guest lecturers usually take a more docile, dull approach. I was actually pleasantly surprised and I don’t care if she thinks blogging is a waste of time… I left out the fact that she followed that comment with a qualifier: she doesn’t really read blogs that much. And when would she have the time? She’s written something like 100 books! Sheesh!
Catherine- the comment thread digressed into a discussion of meeting your idols and being disappointed. I didn’t mean to imply that you were disappointed with JCO. And also, which you may have seen, I defended her not caring about blogs, too and talked about what a huge fan I am.
Catherine- the comment thread digressed into a discussion of meeting your idols and being disappointed. I didn’t mean to imply that you were disappointed with JCO. And also, which you may have seen, I defended her not caring about blogs, too and talked about what a huge fan I am.
Catherine- the comment thread digressed into a discussion of meeting your idols and being disappointed. I didn’t mean to imply that you were disappointed with JCO. And also, which you may have seen, I defended her not caring about blogs, too and talked about what a huge fan I am.
Oh, I should start reading comments before I go clarifying things.
Oh, I should start reading comments before I go clarifying things.
Oh, I should start reading comments before I go clarifying things.
No worries! There was some serious digression! Lots of Denis Johnson talk! It was fun.
No worries! There was some serious digression! Lots of Denis Johnson talk! It was fun.
No worries! There was some serious digression! Lots of Denis Johnson talk! It was fun.
[…] myself the same questions about Jean Rhys, a writer with whom I was much more intensely engaged (and wrote about briefly here). Her life and work were largely seen as the same thing to me (disregarding Wide Sargasso Sea) and I […]