How to End a Story

 I have loved receiving Helen Garner's three volumes of diaries for three successive Christmases (all Covid Christmases, I think!) This final volume covers only four years, but they were intense and painful years as Garner struggles with the end of her marriage to 'V.'

It was interesting to read How to End a Story in conjunction with According to Mark, because they both dealt with issues of the recording of a life, journals, biography, silences and secrets and the reconstruction of the past. 'V' feels revulsion at the idea of Garner's diaries and the possibility that his words and actions might be pored over by future, public readers -- exactly as has ended up happening in reality. And yet Garner cannot stop writing her diary -- it's fundamental to the way she experiences and processes her own life, and it is vital creative work in itself. It's no wonder V is so hostile to the notion of his behaviour being recorded, because he really does act like a total dick at times (though Garner fairly tries to lay the blame for the marriage breakdown on both of them, it seems pretty clear that it was mostly his fault).

Garner's diaries and Lively's novel also share the theme of how to 'manage' male writers. In Garner's case, everything has to be sacrificed to V's novel (which does end up being very successful): 

What his novel cost. No piano. No holidays. No weekends. No outings. We sold my car. No river, no sea, no garden. No dog. No outdoor clothesline. No singing, no dancing, no swimming. No children, no noise, no fresh air. No sunlight, no wide-open windows.

Slowly, agonisingly, Garner extricates herself -- she goes into therapy, she rents herself a studio with a view of the harbour (you can actually check it out on Domain if you're interested!). She keeps pressing V to tell the truth and while he never admits having an affair, he does leave intimate letters lying around where it's easy for Garner to find them, so again, she is forced to do the emotional work of confronting him. This book made me so angry at times that it took my breath away, but it's saved from being purely painful by Garner's ever-luminous, hard, spare, precise writing.

And I was so pleased to hear her on the radio a couple of days ago, saying that she'd read and loved Larissa Behrendt's Afterstory, which she described as having a such a sweetness to it -- totally agree!