Weddings: A Novel
by
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"Perhaps you can help me? I’ve been in a terribly embarrassing situation, which I believe I’ve resolved, but I am having the devil’s own time putting things properly." "I’ll be happy to try," I said. He reached in the drawer of his desk and handed me two blue books. "I copied those and typed them myself," he said, "-- it took me two hours at least. I never had to learn to type. Mrs. Mabel --" he said. I read the first letter. It was addressed to Miss Victoria Bauer in Anderson, Indiana. My Dear Victoria Bauer: In the early summer of this year Mabel Sheridan Brown, my wife and your classmate passed away, victim of a cruel cancer. After forty years of a joyous and productive life together, I cannot find it in my heart to question God’s will in having taken Mrs. Mabel from me. We were truly blessed in our marriage. I do find, however, that my own life has come to an absolute halt as a result of the tragedy of her death. I am afflicted by a loneliness so acute it oppresses me like a heavy weight on my soul. I continue to perform my daily tasks but find myself incapable of concentration. I am not of a temperament that contents itself to live in the past, and yet I find myself doing so and powerless to prevent it. I have, therefore, resolved to take some decisive steps to rechannel my life to a course more satisfying to myself and become more useful to man and God. To that end I have devised this letter to you. I have recently been to the Denison University Alumni Office, and, in checking their records, I find that you have never married, though remembering your comeliness as a student, I am certain you have remained unattached by your own choice. However, in the event that you have experienced a small portion of the loneliness which I have so recently discovered, I hope you will consider the option of becoming my wife an happier alternative. I hope you do not perceive this proposal as a slight on the memory of my late wife. It is the prompting of that memory which has urged me to this course of action. My own marriage has confirmed my belief that marriage is not only a holy state, it is also a practical one. If you are able to seriously entertain my offer, I suggest that we correspond for a time and so make each other’s better acquaintance. Hoping to hear from you soon, I remain: Yours truly, George Martin Brown I did my best to conceal my amusement and my surprise and picked up the second letter. It was addressed to a Miss Harriet Snow in Burlingame, California. I read through the first several paragraphs before I realized that it was an exact duplication of the first letter. If I’d had trouble containing my laughter after having read the first letter, the second one almost incapacitated me, but I still managed to control myself. Then he handed me two envelopes. "Read these," he said. I glanced at the return addresses. The first was from Burlingame, California; the second from Anderson, Indiana. I opened the first. It read: Dear George Martin Brown: I was so deeply moved by your letter, touched not only by your moving tribute to dear Mabel, but by the description of your own loneliness. I, too, have known that pain. As for your proposal, I find it intriguing though certainly unconventional. Let us, indeed, correspond and so learn to know each other as quickly as possible. Let me begin our correspondence by appending a brief history of my life since last we met in lovely Granville. I returned to my home in Dayton, Ohio, after graduation, but left within the year to serve with the Red Cross during the War. With the conclusion of the war, I remained here in California, and fulfilled the State requirements for teaching credentials in both Secondary and Elementary Education. I taught in California in the Los Angeles area for several years, then upon visiting the San Francisco Bay area fell in love with this part of the state. For the next few years I sought employment in this vicinity and found it here in Burlingame, where I have been teaching for the better part of twenty-five years. The area, though still beautiful, is changing so rapidly that I do not hesitate to predict that it will someday be inundated with migrants and those persons whose greatest aim in life is to supply those migrants with automobiles. One can already see a proliferation of used car lots creeping down the El Camino Real from San Francisco southward. My career has not been without its satisfactions. I have had the pleasure of witnessing one of my past students installed in the Congress of the United States, and many others have achieved success in their own chosen professional pursuits. I am, however, at that point in my life where the prospect you offer has not only the appeal of novelty, but also the attraction of the great human adventure I long since abandoned hope of experiencing, namely marriage. Yours in Admiration, Harriet Snow The second letter was much shorter. I read: Dear George Martin Brown: I accept your proposal and can leave for Granville within four weeks. It will take me most of that period to arrange for the sale of my house. Yours truly, Victoria Bauer
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About the Book
David Marx goes to a lot of weddings. As he tells the story of his life in chapters that stand almost as distinct short stories, he reflects on the changes he has seen in the way men and women fall in love and pledge themselves to one another. Weddings begins in the 1930s and continues until the late 1960s, providing a social history of the United States as a backdrop to David’s experiences. As David chronicles different relationships he has known, he moves from a time when the rules for falling in love seemed stable to a time when they seemed endlessly unpredictable. Although often bewildered, David never settles for condemning modern American society. Even though he is often a traditionalist, he admires the women he meets, women who embrace the emotional and sexual freedoms that open up to them as the 1960s move forward. Portions of the novel appeared in Huckleberry Press. Although Richard Kraus completed Weddings in the early 1980s, this is the first complete edition available to the public.
About the Author
Richard Kraus was professor of English at Denison University in Granville, Ohio from 1966-1991. He is the author of many short stories, and his work has appeared in numerous literary magazines. Like his narrator, David Marx, he grew up in Chicago, studied at the University of Michigan, and relocated to California as a Breadloaf Writing Fellow in the mid-1950s. Also like David, he put much of his energy into improving the work of others. His many students and colleagues recall him as a warm listener, a generous editor, and a perpetual inspiration in their own writing. Just before his death in 1999, he consented to have his unpublished novels printed in this form. He is survived by a loving family.