My Present Age by Guy Vanderhaeghe Read Free Book Online Page A

complicator he finds himself a girlfriend.”
    “And this is how you’ve been spending your time, dreaming up crap like this?”
    “Listen to me and you’ll see. It isn’t crap. Think of Benny’s house. Have you ever really looked at it? Magazines everywhere. For chrissakes there’s a
World Almanac
in the bathroom on the toilet tank. He reads the
World Almanac
. Benny believes in being ‘informed.’ He believes that facts are truth. He displays all the characteristic features of the complicator.” I’m on a roll now. “Let me enumerate.” I hold up one hand and begin counting off fingers. “First we have Benny’s fascination with facts, with information. Typical of the legal profession – of which he imagines himself a leading light – a shabby coven of complicators and obfuscators without parallel. Second, unlike the simplifier, Benny places his faith in the flesh. Look at his sexual habits. Women, women, women. Only one of whom, let me remind you, is he married to. The thing is, Benny believes in data and sensation. He believes that his perplexity is a result of not having enough information, and his lust the result of too few women. Hence his belief in one more feature-length article in
Time
or one more bimbo.”
    Victoria is growing angrier. There are ruddy spots of colour onher cheeks and this prompts me to hurry to finish. “Sadler on the other hand, rumour has it, is chaste and ascetic. He has no interest in facts. All he wants is contained in the covers of The Book. The last five hundred years of discoveries in astronomy, biology, physics, chemistry, and psychology weigh less than nothing on his metaphysical scales. I’m trying to achieve such purity of viewpoint myself. Of course, I’m travelling in a slightly different direction, but I can’t deny he’s been an inspiration to me. Mind over matter.”
    “I can imagine the direction you’re travelling,” says Victoria. She seems to be growing more and more agitated. She is glancing nervously at her watch and twisting the expansion bracelet.
    “That’s the wonderful thing about one’s thirties,” I comment. “Almost anything can surface. Old radical friends – and you and I can think of a number – emigrate to the suburbs, build two-car attached garages, take their daughters for lessons in bourgeois dance, and coach competitive sport. On the other hand we find the individual who decides he doesn’t care what Granny or Aunt Edna thinks. He says to himself, ‘There it is. I’m queer, queer as the day is long. I’m going to prance and wear satin pants until I’m eighty. I don’t
care.’
Admirable.”
    “You always put things in the nicest ways, Ed. You’re so understanding of others.”
    “Oh-oh. Here we go with ‘If you show me your sensitivity I’ll show you mine.’ Knock it off, Victoria.”
    “In my experience you have little to show. I wouldn’t hold my breath at the unveiling.”
    “Say what’s on your mind, Victoria.”
    “How can I with you saying what’s on yours?”
    “I suppose your outrage is occasioned by unkind references to your old buddies? Well then, let me say something nice about same. I am pleased by the sudden crop of babies. Of course, as I’ve said before, time is marching on. The spectre of infertility looms. The dirty deed must be quickly done, but I concede that the result, the product, is nice.”
    “Shut up, you boor.” Victoria is furious.
    It is clear we are going to fight, so I decide to get my licks in quickly. This is advisable with Victoria, since in seconds you may be pummelled senseless and incapable of retaliation. A charge of calculated disloyalty is often wounding. “On the other hand, we do see marriages dissolving, don’t we? Quite a substantial number. Perhaps once again a case of biology being a hard taskmaster. It’s a tough decision deciding whether to stick with what you’ve got or look for something better, isn’t it, Victoria? If you want better, dump the spouse now