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Chapters (47)
  1. 1. Cover Page
  2. 2. Title Page
  3. 4. Author’s Note
  4. 5. Dedication
  5. 7. Prologue
  6. 8. Part One: Umbertina 1860 - 1940
  7. 9. Chapter One
  8. 10. Chapter Two
  9. 11. Chapter Three
  10. 12. Chapter Four
  11. 13. Chapter Five
  12. 14. Chapter Six
  13. 15. Chapter Seven
  14. 16. Chapter Eight
  15. 17. Chapter Nine
  16. 18. Chapter Ten
  17. 19. Part Two: Marguerite 1927 – 1973
  18. 20. Chapter Eleven
  19. 21. Chapter Twelve
  20. 22. Chapter Thirteen
  21. 23. Chapter Fourteen
  22. 24. Chapter Fifteen
  23. 25. Chapter Sixteen
  24. 26. Chapter Seventeen
  25. 27. Chapter Eighteen
  26. 28. Chapter Nineteen
  27. 29. Chapter Twenty
  28. 30. Chapter Twenty-One
  29. 31. Chapter Twenty-Two
  30. 32. Chapter Twenty-Three
  31. 33. Part Three: Tina 1950 –
  32. 34. Chapter Twenty-Four
  33. 35. Chapter Twenty-Five
  34. 36. Chapter Twenty-Six
  35. 37. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  36. 38. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  37. 39. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  38. 40. Chapter Thirty
  39. 41. Chapter Thirty-One
  40. 42. Chapter Thirty-Two
  41. 43. Chapter Thirty-Three
  42. 44. Chapter Thirty-Four
  43. 45. Chapter Thirty-Five
  44. 46. Afterword
  45. 48. About the Author
  46. 49. About the Feminist Press
  47. 50. Also Available from the Feminist Press

Later I meet Mother for shopping. It is her world and she is expert in it. She is knowing, efficient, well dressed, and esteemed by the salesgirls. I enjoy it. The glittering insides of the stores are exciting; shopping is ecstasy. There is still a splendid American world of promises wafted on scented, melodic air; outside everything is seedy and squalid, but for an hour or two in Charles Brothers’ I can believe once more in the old Saturday movies, in that grand old notion: America the Blissful.

That night at table: “I wonder why Louis and Irene haven’t called to have you over for dinner. They know you’re here. Your cousin Louis is an extremely successful psychiatrist. He’s making a fortune and Irene’s spending it—all on herself. When they moved here from Cato I put myself completely at her disposal to help her settle, practically taught her how to shop and dress. She comes from a very poor background. I’ve certainly entertained them enough here.”

“You can’t force gratitude from people, or even buy it,” I say oracularly, and Mother’s eyes narrow in on me suspiciously. In the old days I would have tried to defend myself, Louis, and Irene—thus lending point to her attack; now I don’t care.

Then the New World is over.

But what world is there that’s not beached first in ourselves?

26. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

Shades of Henry James: Now she was Isabel Archer. There she was concluding details for renting the shabbily furnished room in a sixteenth-century villa in the sweet hills ringing Florence that had been the setting for parts of Portrait of a Lady. She could see the flickering lights on a movie house: Marguerite Morosini in Portrait of a Loner.

“The place is charming,” the real estate agent, a countess, had said, showing the rooms off the second-floor loggia to Marguerite. “Not everyone’s cup of tea”—she smiled, tripping on a loose piece of the wood flooring—“but strong on charm, really, and very handy to the American school.”

“This is called Florentine tacky,” added Marguerite’s friend, a secretary from the country day school across the way, as they took in the saggy, spiritless sofa and two amorphous mounds of chairs that were the only pieces of furniture in the living room.

Marguerite tried gaiety, too, along with them. The view was a Ghirlandaio landscape, and Weezy in her expensive school could feed her soul on views of Florence all day. And she? She would fix up the rooms, take walks in the pretty country, look for work, grow geraniums, and reread James.