January 11, 2004
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A Life of Substance
Finished reading the biography of Martha Gellhorn this morning and burst into tears because over the weeks of reading this fairly long account of her life I felt I had come to know this extraordinary woman. She was many things I am not (at least not any more) – feisty, addicted to travel, a smoker and drinker, an accomplished writer, a journalist who reported on wars from the Spanish Civil War all the way up through Vietnam and beyond and risked her life repeatedly. She had many famous friends and lovers. But I could relate to one thread of her life especially – that in spite of her gifts she was never able to sustain a truly fulfilling intimate relationship and never seemed to quite know why. She died in 1998 at the age of 90. These are the last 2 paragraphs of the book:
Then Martha took the pill she had got hold of, “I think it takes some kind of desperate courage to commit suicide, for after all, it is the totally unknown risk,” she had once written to Betsy, “that blank uncertainty, only one’s own wilful belief in nothingness is protection. I think, Betsy, that dying is a very hard business, however achieved.” Was Martha, who had found living so hard, afraid? Were there those last few minutes of “desperate suffocation” before unconsciousness? There was no sign of fear on her face when she was found by Victoria Glendinning on Sunday morning
In her will, Martha had asked that there be a gathering for her friends at which to remember her. It took place at Cadogan Square a week later, and the forty or so people who came laughed and drank, as she had wished, and talked about the many times they had sat in these rooms, laughing and drinking with her. Some were meeting for the first time, Martha’s determination to keep her friends separate having persisted to the end. A few days later, Alfred, Sandy Gellhorn, and Sandy Matthews took a boat down the Thames and threw Martha’s ashes, as she had stipulated, into the fast-flowing water on an outgoing tide for the “last travels.” With them, among the ashes, went some long-stemmed roses.
Deep Thought: If you want to be the popular one at a party, here’s a good thing to do: Go up to some people who are talking and laughing and say, “well, technically that’s illegal.” It might fit in with what somebody just said. And even if it doesn’t, so what, I hate this stupid party.
Today I am grateful for: Never having been married to Ernest Hemingway
Comments (6)
I don’t do parties well, I’m generally waiting for the time to leave. So I try to avoid them.
Sounds like a good book. Is the sun out over there? It is here! I actually got out of the parking lot for the first time since Tuesday! Yeah!
Bunnies are similar to cats – I think – I’ve never had a cat but my mom has them. They are very good natured – although mine has a bit of an attitude and she will growl and box at me if she’s in a ‘mood’. She’s a great pal though!
What pets do you have?
Sounds like a great book & a great lady! Thanks for the review.
Just reading your blog about Martha’s life saddens me. I don’t think that suicide is ever done lightly — even at 90. I think that step is not taken without there first being great pain, and every time I hear of a suicide I grieve a little. We are all connected and when one person suffers — a part of all of us suffers.
Have a good week, Andrea.
Alice
Normally I would hate seeing that someone put the ending of a book in their blog, but in this case, I am glad you did. It was heart wrenchingly beautiful. Infinite Blessings
I personally find the idea of suicide tragic, though I believe in the right to die with dignity which is legal here in my home state in spite of attacks from the US Attorney General. I don’t believe I can judge another’s suffering. In Martha’s case she had watched her own beloved mother die a lingering death and she herself was in very poor health for some time at the end. She was a fascinating human being and hopefully those last 2 paragraphs won’t put anyone off reading the book (Gellhorn: A 20th Century Life – Caroline Moorehead) for its wonderful descriptions of her view of the world over all those years.