Crossroads
- Автор: Франзен Джонатан
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Farrar, Straus and Giroux
- Жанр: Современная русская и зарубежная проза
Электронная книга - «Crossroads». Краткое содержание книги:
Universally recognized as the leading novelist of his generation, Jonathan Franzen is often described as a teller of family stories. Only now, though, in *Crossroads* , has he given us a novel in which a family, in all the intricacy of its...
It’s because of an inheritance I received from Shirley, following her tragic death, that I’m able to consider attending a private college. She herself never attended college, having been a noted actress in her youth and busy with her career, but she loved the higher things in life and knew more about art and theater and music and coteur than many experts anyone I’ve ever known. It was from her that I learned to dream big and really make something of myself. I’m blessed to have an opportunity to educate myself in a way she never could, and learn more about the world. I intend to seize this opportunity fully.
She read what she’d written and wrinkled her nose. There seemed to be no way back to the pure feeling she’d had for Shirley before her mother clouded it with criticisms. Or maybe the morning after being kissed was simply not a good time to experience admiration. Considering her state, she felt good about having written anything at all.
She closed her notebook and went to the kitchen, where Judson was applying colored sugar to a tray of cookies. Through the open basement door came the sound of laundry chores.
“These look great, Jay,” she said.
“I need a better tool. It clumps on the spoon.”
“Which one is your least favorite? I bet I can make it disappear.”
“This one,” he said, pointing.
She ate the cookie and immediately wished she could eat another. “Is there anything special you want for Christmas? Something you haven’t told anyone about?”
“Nobody asks.”
“Perry didn’t ask you?”
Judson hesitated and shook his head.
“I’m asking,” she said.
“Colored pencils,” he said, intent on the cookies. “With interesting colors.”
“Got it. This tape will self-destruct in five seconds.”
“If you or any of your I-enforcers are caught or killed, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your actions.”
“I think it’s ‘I.M. force.’ Impossible Mission.”
“I wondered about that.”
“You’re a good kid,” she said, brimming with goodwill.
“Thank you.”
Her mother was trudging up the basement stairs, so she fled to her room again. Seeing her unmade bed, she was drawn to lie down on it, as a way of falling back into the kiss. The day already seemed to have lasted longer than an entire ordinary day, and it had still barely started.
It was generally assumed, and specifically assumed by her father, in his jealousy, that Rick Ambrose was the reason Crossroads had exploded in popularity. According to Clem, though, there were two reasons, and the other one was Tanner Evans. Tanner’s parents belonged to First Reformed, and he’d come up with Clem through Sunday school and gone with Becky’s father on the first spring work camp in Arizona. Tanner was a nice person, from a nice family, but he was also a gifted musician and the coolest guy at New Prospect Township, one of the first to grow his hair long, a bell-bottomed dreamboat. In Clem’s telling, Crossroads had exploded when Tanner invited his music-playing friends, male and female, white and black, to come to Sunday meetings. Crossroads became as much a musical happening as a religious thing, Tanner’s coolness the counterweight to Ambrose’s intensity.
Tanner had postponed college to develop his skills and write songs. He had a regular Friday-night gig in the back room at the Grove, where liquor was served. He and his girlfriend, Laura Dobrinsky, who’d been his female counterpart in Crossroads, played together in a band called the Bleu Notes. Laura was short and somewhat chunky, but she had an impressive head of wavy hair and a face flattered by pink-tinted wireframes, and her voice, when she sang solo, made walls shake and hearts break. She was one of New Prospect’s original hippies, a walking yes to the question Are You Experienced? It was hard to imagine Tanner with anyone else, and so when Becky went to work at the Grove and started running into him, and he asked her how Clem was doing at college, and sent greetings to her parents, she assumed she was only a little sister to whom, being nice, he was being nice.
The night before she turned eighteen, after her shift ended, she stood in the doorway of the back room and listened to the last song of the Bleu Notes’ first set. Tanner’s voice and mustache resembled James Taylor’s, and he wore a fringed suede jacket. His hands were strong and lanky from playing guitar, his mouth full-lipped and fascinating when he sang. After the song ended and Becky had turned to leave, she heard him call her name. He came weaving through the bar tables and motioned to her to sit down with him. Laura Dobrinsky had disappeared somewhere.
“There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said. “Why aren’t you in Crossroads?”
Becky frowned. “Why would I be?”
“Um, because it’s an incredible experience? Because you’re a member of First Reformed?”
She was not, in fact, a member of the church. She was so obviously not a religious person that her parents hadn’t bothered to pressure her to join.
“Even if I wanted to be in Crossroads, which I don’t,” she said, “I wouldn’t do that to my father.”
“What does your father have to do with it?”
“The group kicked him out?”
Tanner winced. “I know. That scene was messed up. But I’m asking about you, not him. Why don’t you want to be in Crossroads?”
It was true that Clem had joined the youth group, before it was called Crossroads, and that he was even less religious than she was. But Clem enjoyed service to poor people, the Arizona trip especially, and was naturally generous (or willfully perverse) in his choice of companions. Becky was turned off by the Crossroads look, the painter’s pants and flannel shirts, and by the superior air of Crossroads people at their tables in the high-school cafeteria, their ostentatious closeness, their indifference to the hierarchy. Though Clem had dismissed the hierarchy himself, he’d never seemed smug about it. The Crossroads people did.
“I just don’t,” she told Tanner. “It’s not my kind of thing.”
“How do you know it’s not your kind of thing if you haven’t tried it?”
“Why do you care if I try it?”
Tanner shrugged, stirring his suede fringes. “I heard Perry’s been going. I thought, ‘That’s cool, but what about Becky?’ It seemed weird that you weren’t in the group.”
“Perry and I are very different.”
“Right. You’re Becky Hildebrandt. You’re the queen of the soshies. What would all your friends say?”
It was nice that he’d paid enough attention to know her social standing. But she’d always hated being teased. “I’m not going to Crossroads. I don’t have to tell you why.”
“It’s not because you’re afraid of what you might learn about yourself.”
“Nope.”
“Really? It sounds to me like you’re afraid.”
“I am what I am.”
“That’s what God said, too.”
“You believe in God?”
“I think so.” Tanner leaned back in his chair. “I think He’s there in our relationships, if they’re honest. And the first place I ever had honest relationships, and felt close to God, was in Crossroads.”
“Then why did it kick my dad out?”
Tanner seemed genuinely pained. “Your dad is great,” he said. “I love your dad. But people couldn’t relate to him.”
“I can relate to him. So I guess there’s something wrong with me, too.”