chapter VIII: "you really do hate me, don't you, Edith?"

By the time his parents died, Stoner had already begun the process of forming an intentional, deliberate self. In reflections on previous chapters I'd pointed out Stoner's apparent lack of intention or real integrity; in his youth, self knowledge came as a surprise and direction came from external forces. 

Edith was much less well prepared than her husband was in the face of death. Edith's father's suicide awakens Edith. She looks at her own life and tries to grasp its meaning and direction. She destroys in secret all the things her father ever gave her. In the two months she stayed with her mother, away from Stoner and their daughter, Gracie, Edith cultivated a new style for herself. She had her hair cut short in a fashionable (if not altogether flattering) bob; she learned to smoke and how to apply makeup. She burned her old clothes and took out a loan from her mother to buy an entirely new wardrobe so she could be a new woman. 

Who hasn't hoped at some point that a new look could transform you into a new, more powerful, more resilient, more attractive version of yourself?

Armed with a bold new look, Edith began to be more aggressive in her relationships with her husband and daughter. When Stoner's students came round, she insisted on serving them tea and snacks--and then turning the conversation to herself so that they became confused and embarrassed and stopped their visits. When Gracie and her father shared a moment of loving, joyous laughter between them, Edith began to monopolize all of Gracie's time so as to eliminate the possibility of a flourishing father-daughter relationship. 

Edith's self-creation could not be more different than Stoner's version. Stoner, growing into himself, begins to teach with a passion and excitement that had previously eluded him. He plans a new book project and begins his research with pleasure. He loves caring for his daughter, building the relationship between them. In short, as Stoner develops himself, he becomes creative and interested and as a result, he becomes increasingly interesting. When she returns to Columbia in her "improved" guise, Edith dabbles in the arts--painting, piano-playing, sculpture, community theater. But Edith does not create; Edith cultivates a destructive orientation and she carefully aims her sabotage wherever her husband has begun to create. 

Does Edith see this in herself? This is what I want to know. She wants something different, something more powerful and purposive. She gets that, certainly. But is it destruction and sabotage that she wanted? Does she use them to strike at what terrifies her? Does she just want control instead of any real power? Watching Edith is heartbreaking. Edith--you never had to do this. You never had to choose this.