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- BOOKS, Page 89Unloved Ones
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- A DANGEROUS WOMAN
- by Mary McGarry Morris
- Viking; 358 pages; $19.95
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- Martha Horgan is at once the most irritating and engaging
- character to inhabit a novel in a long time. Born without the
- protective scrim that allows the rest of us passage through the
- world, she is so excited by an invitation to a PlastiqueWare
- party that she burns a hole in her scalp with a curling iron,
- overdresses in a turquoise dress with red pinwheels and laughs
- a beat late and a beat too long at all the jokes. She hopes
- that if she buys the most expensive item, she will finally win
- the affection of Birdy, the only person in town who will put
- up with her. Instead, when the deluxe set of freezer containers
- is bought by another guest, Martha tears her check into
- confetti and flees to the bathroom.
-
- Life is a party to which the thirty something Martha has not
- been invited. Raised by her father on the estate where he
- worked as a handyman, subject to such unspeakable torment in
- high school that she dropped out, Martha works at the local dry
- cleaner's. The routine gives temporary order to the chaos that
- is her life. So comforting is the hiss of the steam machine
- pressing a shirt collar and the swish of clear plastic bags
- hanging in sequence, she often shows up on her day off.
-
- Morris performs one of the most difficult writing tasks,
- creating a character crazy enough to be interesting but sane
- enough to describe her own dilemma. Like a child narrator,
- Martha looks wide-eyed and unblinking at the world around her
- and sees too much: every blade of grass as it springs back
- after a footstep; the 248 steps from her driveway to the bus;
- that bad people lie routinely and get away with it. But unlike
- a child, she has full-bodied yearnings for friends and lovers,
- which she knows will never be satisfied. One summer evening she
- looks across the park at couples on blankets listening to a band
- concert. "How did they get there, she wondered, the old
- yearning like a beak at her ribs. How did they manage to know
- what clothes to wear, what conversations to have? What
- invisible rudders steered them through waters as unnavigable
- for her by daylight as by night?"
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- Whenever she is struck by the realization that she will
- never belong, which is often, she loses her breath and thumps
- her chest for air. Often, complete strangers come up and pummel
- her back, asking if she is all right. "All right?" Martha asks
- herself. "How could anyone be all right whose existence was
- fueled by this terrible, self-consuming energy, this frenzy of
- fear and anger, a crippling power, driving her?"
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- Rescue looks intermittently possible by her Aunt Frances,
- who has all the coping mechanisms Martha lacks, and by Wesley
- Mount, the town mortician, another outsider. While he always
- knows the right thing to say in death, he hovers too closely
- and whispers too intensely for the living. He has scared off
- other women with too many flowers and Hallmark cards, and so
- he proceeds cautiously with Martha, making small talk when he
- drops off his laundry. When she remembers that he takes his
- shirts with heavy starch and folded, he is filled with hope.
-
- Martha loses her job and her connection to her co-worker
- Birdy when she runs after a customer to tell him that the
- manager has not cleaned his suit, only prespotted it, and
- accuses Birdy's boyfriend of taking $20 out of the cash
- register. She phones Birdy incessantly to win her back but only
- succeeds in driving her friend farther away.
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- Like Martha, Wesley seems doomed to the kind of lovelessness
- he sees in the faces of those he buries: "There was a tearless
- distance to the eyes, and at the mouth an unripe tautness, the
- flesh so toneless its touch repelled him. It was, if such a
- thing were possible, a deathless death." With language simple
- and vivid, and detail so telling we can hear Wesley folding his
- grocery bags into tiny squares and stuffing them into his
- pockets, Morris has shown us that those who live outside the
- magic circle of friendship and family have a rich inner life
- like the rest of us, only much sadder and unforgettable.
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- By Margaret Carlson.
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