This year’s Mothers’ Day gift is gathering dust inside the bottom cupboard of my writing desk. I haven’t seen my family in four months now and it’s strange to think they’re only about an hour-and-a-half drive away, yet I am unable to see them.
The Easter Parade is an exceptional story about family. I’m writing exceptional because it’s managed to make its way into my top 10 – if not five – favourite books (thank you to the person that recently recommended it to me!). I haven’t been this compelled by a novel in a while; I read it in about three days, after work, late into the evening.
The novel explores the complexities of familial relationships, particularly sisterhood. It highlights the importance of maintaining bonds with other people throughout the entirety of one’s life; especially those who would love you regardless of what occurs situationally, over time.
It is a sad beginning for the sisters. Yates writes:
‘Neither of the Grimes sisters would live a happy life, and looking back it always seemed that the trouble began with their parents’ divorce.’
Even the implications of the surname ‘Grimes’ feels as though they are destined for a polluted life.
Perhaps, indeed, the divorce is ‘where the trouble started’, but it is not necessarily why the troubles continued.
The sisters are different: one becomes a wife and mother, the other, an intellectual and woman-about-town. Judgement comes from both sides (as it does in real life): Sarah wishes Emily would settle down, and Emily wishes Sarah would read something other than the ‘Daily News’. Time, and personal choices, separates and changes them, until they both die – metaphorically and literally – of loneliness, not unlike their mother. Emily’s childhood fears come true:
‘Sarah’s eye wasn’t damaged – her wide, deep brown eyes remained the dominant feature in a face that would become beautiful – but for the rest of her life a fine little blue-white scar wavered down from one eyebrow into the lid, like the hesitant stroke of a pencil, and Emily could never look at it without remembering how well her sister had borne pain. It reminded her too, time and again, of her own susceptibility to panic and her unfathomable dread of being alone.’
Despite the maltreatment of both Emily and Sarah by others – awfully, abusive men, most often – it is not this that causes their ultimate pain: loneliness. Ironically, their loneliness stems from their unsupportive relationship; particularly seen through Emily’s actions towards Sarah:
‘”It’s just that there isn’t anything I can do, Howard,” she said. She wanted him to take her in his arms, so she could cry against his shoulder, but he made no move toward her.
“Well,” he said, “actually, you could let her have this apartment for a while; we could stay up at my place.”
“I know; that did occur to me; but the point is the apartment’s only the beginning. You have no idea how helpless she is – a funny little middle-aged woman with terrible clothes and bad teeth and without a skill to her name – she can’t even type except with two fingers.”‘
This is a heartbreaking moment; one that changes everything. And moments like these are the ones we hope to avoid with our own families.
Whilst out relationships can dwindle in quarantine, our connections with people can also strengthen immensely. At present, it feels as though there is more time available for many people, so perhaps it could be spent rekindling relationships with those you care about.
Lately, one of my sisters and I have spent time cooking together on Facetime, and believe me, this would never have happened without confinement.
What I’m trying to say is: don’t lose sight of those who really matter.
the isolation book club 