The March of Time

~ Emily Alone, by Stewart O’Nan ~

80 years old, and widowed, Emily had “never wanted to be eighty. Practically, she’d never wanted to outlive Henry”. Living in affluence in a large house in Pittsburgh, Emily has Arlene, her (even older) sister-in-law who lives close by for companionship; Rufus, a very old dog; Betty, her once-a-week house help, and some kind neighbours to call on when she needs assistance or some heavier chores doing, like shovelling snow. She also has children and grandchildren in other parts of the country who make visits to her a couple of times a year. But Emily is aged, and very aware of being on her own.

Emily came from more humble beginnings in Kersey, where she had even waited tables at the Clarion Hotel, but she married into the Maxwell’s fortune,

The Maxwells had taken her in when she was just a raw girl from the sticks

p239

and the Club, with its

Doric columns and flocked wallpaper, the potted rubber plants and wing chairs, the trophy cases and herringbone floors…the dining room easily a hundred tables set with crystal goblets, gilt-edged china and heavy, monogrammed silver

p49

had, to Emily after 60 years of membership, become

a comfort, unchanging, a bastion of middle-class civility and permanence, like the church

p49

Although very fond of her kind, accommodating son, Emily has a poor relationship with her daughter-in-law, because from the start, her help and advice are unneeded, unwelcomed, and not taken on board.

Over the years their mutual dislike had calcified […] While she was aware it was a great failure of character, she wasn’t magnanimous enough to forgive her, In fact, she held it against Lisa that by surviving Emily she might think she’d prevailed” p169. Moreover, as the elderly parent, Emily feels herself to be at the mercy of her daughter-in-law: “Emily liked to think she didn’t need anything from Lisa, yet Lisa held the ultimate power over her – the ability to deprive Emily of time with Kenneth and the grandchildren.

p170

This novel is a intricately depicted study of old age via the thoughts and daily life of Emily; O’Nan provides many elegant illustrations of how differently an aged person perceives life, from working-aged people. For example, when Emily finds scratches on her brand new car, she wonders, like anyone might, whether it is worth asking her insurance to cover the repair, which may raise the premium, or whether it would be below the deductible cost, and also whether to use one time lumpsum or monthly payments. But Emily has further considerations which may not cross the mind of younger people:

At her age, every financial decision she made had to take into account her life expectancy, as if she was betting against herself. The idea that someone besides her children should profit from her death, or her lack of clairvoyance in the matter, was insulting, yet so often that’s what it came down to.

p159

O’Nan offers a very insightful glimpse into the mindset of the elderly. He writes of how important routine is of course, and also how much waiting seemed to be involved:

That was how time passed – waiting through everything else to do the thing you wanted. How little fell into that category now…

p163

A very proud resident of Pittsburgh, the novel illustrates how in her old age, Emily feels so much is slipping from her, in contrast to when she was young how youth may be experienced as a process of acquiring, whereas old age may be experienced as erosion:

When she was young, the city was her new world. Now it seemed she was losing it piece by piece.

p11

Likewise, the past remembered contrasts painfully with the unsatisfactory present:

She could not stop the visitations, even if she wanted to. They plagued her like migraines, left her helpless and dissatisfied, as if her life and the lives of all those she’d loved had come to nothing, merely because that time had gone, receding even in her own memory, to be replaced by this diminished present. If it seemed another world, that was because it was, and all her wishing could not bring it back.

p7

O’Nan also beautifully captures how little there is left by now in Emily’s life, by her own admittance, that all she really has is waiting for her children’s (and grandchildren’s) visits at Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving – maybe. O’Nan also perfectly understands the anxiety of uncertainty for the elderly, as well as much time needed for any changes to their routines.

For weeks she’d been trying to pin down Kenneth on the specifics of their visit. Were Ella and Sam still coming? What time did they expect to arrive? Please, she needed to know as soon as they booked their flights so she could plan accordingly.

p169

O’Nan also understands very well how large such a visit may loom in the relatively empty life of an Emily, and how an Emily may feel such things too keenly as a result:

The promise of their visit had sustained her for so long that any deviation from the ideal felt like a slight.

p169

The novel seems to run on parallel levels – on one is the daily life of Emily, her socials (like attending church services, the annual flowershow, the Van Gogh exhibition, events at the club, breakfasting weekly at Eat ‘n Park two-for-one breakfast buffets with coupons, etc) and her little errands (food shopping, going to the vet, attending to her car, etc.) Those are not without interest in themselves, but the other level is the background thread running throughout of how an 80 year old approaches all these things, with the expectation of her end being eminent, possible at any time, and mortality an ever present expectation.

[…] she reflected that Louise had died in the spring, also her father. To make it through the darkest days only to succumb – she suspected there was a lesson in it, one that, in her position, didn’t bear closer examination.

p186-7

Because she is in relatively good health, and very sound of mind, Emily has much time on her hands to prepare for her end. She prepares her will with elaborate care and goes through it in detail with her daughter when she comes at Christmas, notwithstanding her awareness of her daughter’s lack of interest. When she attends a funeral and reception for a club member, Emily discusses with Arlene the kinds of reception they’d want and not want for themselves, in their turn.

Once, Emily would have thought this conversation the height of crassness, but as a regular guest at these all-too-frequent gatherings, she harboured the same complaints, and the same home her own reception would be a success. She’d begun planning her service directly after Henry’s, choosing the music and the readings, tinkering every so often with improvements, updating her ideas and filing them in a folder she kept with her most important papers.

p152

Emily’s thoughts mostly seem to be divided between the small daily mundanities of the present, her memories, and planning her end.

The problem, she thought, was that she couldn‘t draw a solid line between life and death, or approaching that line herself, hopefully refused to.

p240

Emily is a strong woman, decisive and intelligent, a good organiser and a good time manager, but even such a well organised person may be susceptible to low moods and blues;

it was ridiculous how, with no one’s help, she’d worked herself into a perfect state. There was no reason either. The past was the past. […] Time, which had her on the rack, would just as effortlessly rescue her. This funk was temporary. Tomorrow she would be fine.

p67

Old age, Emily shows us, brings many limitations and even indignities (which one hopes to be spared), and fewer and fewer pleasures. Even in something as small and supposedly pleasurable as writing Christmas cards, Emily feels age short changing her:

Since winning a plaster of Paris bust of Shakespeare for penmanship in the sixth grade, she’d prided herself on her cursive. In the last few years it had deteriorated, become shaky, her hand tremulous, as if she suffered from a nervous disease […] she saw her squiggly letters as more proof that she as bound to lose everything, at least in this world.

p55

This novel is a study of the psychology of the aged, albeit of one of the most fortunate of the aged possible – a woman who has lived a privileged life, who has had a good marriage, who is wealthy, who has command of her own affairs, who has the power of decision making, who is spry enough to live on her own and maintain her independence, who has mobility both in terms of personal physique and through being able to drive, who has no health issues beyond fragility and weakness of age; a woman who has plenty of commonsense and practicality, a good memory, some small talents, relatively caring children even if not particularly close to her – and yet, for all these considerable blessings and very few problems/drawbacks, this book is not a celebration or a whoop of victory, at best, it is a grim smile at the unrelenting march of time. It has been called a heartbreaking novel by more than one reviewer, but I would beg to differ – it has its poignant moments, but it is not precisely heartbreaking. If it has a gentle suffusion of sorrow – this “diminished present”- it may be because Emily is so aware the best of her life is over, and while her life in its eighth decade continues pleasant and privileged, O’Nan conveys that age inevitably leaches away some of the enjoyment of life, much like it slowly de-energises the person. It is an incredibly honest novel, lifting the lid on the confrontations of the psychological challenges of aging.