Jane. Maggie NelsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
have been juggled about, so
it’s hard now to figure out
who was messy, who was neat
who awkward, who popular.
Barb remembers wearing a patch over her eye
at age five, having braces, and being deeply sick
with rheumatic fever, so of course she thinks
Jane was much cuter, with her freckles
and fresh row of bangs. But their father maintains
Jane was wildly jealous of Barb’s social ease, her lanky body.
Barb remembers trying to steal Jane’s friends, writing her name
on every page of Jane’s journal, and hating her sister so much
she often imagined smothering her to death with a pillow.
(JANUARY 20, 1960)
Right now I hate my sister so.
There is no sense of unison or understanding between us.
I hate her so much.
She is sarcastic, spiteful, snobby, snippy, and her whole attitude
is one of being better than I. I know that she is and perhaps I am
jealous, but I have no companionship with her any longer.
Jealousy is a funny thing. I am jealous of Barb’s fun, dates, looks, assurance, way with parents, clothes, charm, age, etc. Yet it’s something hard to understand. I am not always jealous or always envious but just sometimes I want to have and be like her so badly that I could cry. It’s a shame for she deserves what she possesses and certainly should have it.
If she hates me that’s OK. But I would give my life for her and she doesn’t care whether I live or die.
I wish we could go to Florida. Maybe being together and having fun would help.
SLOGANS
My grandmother’s house was full of slogans—
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