Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You_.epub - (EPUB全文下载)

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Table of Contents 
Title PageEpigraph1 - Thursday, July 24, 20032 - Friday, July 25, 20033 - April 20034 - Friday, July 25, 20035 - May 20036 - Saturday, July 26, 20037 - May 20038 - June 20039 - April 200310 - June 200311 - Monday, July 28, 200312 - Monday, July 28, 200313 - Tuesday, July 29, 200314 - Tuesday, July 29, 200315 - Tuesday, July 29, 200316 - Wednesday, July 30, 200317 - October 2003ALSO BY PETER CAMERONCopyright Page

For Justin Richardson
and in memory of
Marie Nash Shaw
1900–1993
Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.
—Ovid 
When you long with all your heart for someone to love you, a madness grows there that shakes all sense from the trees and the water and the earth. And nothing lives for you, except the long deep bitter want. And this is what everyone feels from birth to death.
—Denton WelchJournal, 8 May 1944, 11.15 p.m. 
1 
Thursday, July 24, 2003 
THE DAY MY SISTER, GILLIAN, DECIDED TO PRONOUNCE her name with a hard G was, coincidentally, the same day my mother returned, early and alone, from her honeymoon. Neither of these things surprised me. Gillian, who was between her third and fourth years at Barnard, was dating a “language theory” professor named Rainer Maria Schultz and had consequently become a bit of a linguistic zealot, often ranting about something called “pure” language, of which Gillian with a hard G was supposedly an example. My mother, on the other hand, had rather rashly decided to marry an odd man named Barry Rogers. Gillian—Gillian—and I had both suspected that this marriage (my mother’s third) would not last very long, but we assumed it would survive its honeymoon, although when we heard they were planning a honeymoon in Las Vegas our skepticism grew. My mother, who has spent her entire life avoiding places like Las Vegas and merrily disdaining anyone who visited, or even contemplated visiting, such places, had announced, in a disturbing brainwashy way, that a honeymoon in Las Vegas would be “fun” and a nice change from her previous honeymoons (Italy with my father and the Galápagos Islands with her second husband). Whenever my mother said anything was, or would be, “fun” you could take it as a warning that said thing was not nor would be at all fun, and when I reminded my mother of this—I used the example of her telling me that the sailing camp she had forced me to attend the summer I was twelve would be “fun”—she admitted that sailing camp had not been fun for me but that was no reason ............

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