Cheever's choice to tell the story of Joan Harris from the unreliable perspective of Jack is brilliant. Without Jack, Joan Harris's story is mundane. She moves to New York, finds a career, dates broken men and stays up late. Through Jack's eyes, Joan is a symbol of innocence, an ominous mystery, and finally, the angel of death. Jack doesn't understand Joan. Jack doesn't want to understand Joan. The longer Jack knows her, the more her optimism and resilience disturbs him. Even when a soon-to-be-evicted Joan asks Jack to help her find a new apartment, he's disappointed at her lack of indignation or bitterness.
The first sentence sets the tone for Jack's dread. He calls her the Widow. She wears black. Her messy apartment possesses a curious disorder as if the undertakers just left. What kind of woman doesn't clean her apartment? Jack doesn't want to say a serial killer, but what else could explain the disorder?
Jack gradually comes to fear Joan. At first, she's from the same town in Ohio. They are the same age. They both arrive in New York in the 1930s. They can drink martinis, eat dinner and play checkers. Jack starts living with a woman and loses touch. βAll of this β the shared apartment in the Village, the illicit relationship, the Friday night train to the country house β was what he imagined life in New York to be, and was intensely happy.β
The next time he sees Joan she's trying to rouse a passed out date in an empty restaurant. Jack wants to help, but he's moving with the crowd. The next time Jack sees Joan, she's with someone even worse. Jack would love to mourn her as a fallen woman, but Joan has no self-pity. Joan remains happy. She gives up modeling, has an abortion, finds a job in corporate. She dates heroin addicts, eurotrash snobs, abusers and con men. One boyfriend swindles her out of jewelry. Another one hits her and then commits suicide. Years later, she is still enjoying her life, staying up late and hosting parties. Repeatedly, she thwarts Jack's pity and schadenfreude. Joan is not a fallen woman. She's not a tragedy. Jack cannot understand how Joan could survive. He certainly can't accept that she's still happy and full of life.
Meanwhile, Jack's life is falling apart. He spirals into alcoholism and failure. He gets married. He gets divorced. His wife takes the kid. The idyllic Manhattan gives way to slums and dark streets. He's drafted. He fights in WWII. He get married. He gets divorced. Owing alimony, he finds a better job. And loses it. Jack can't even compare his miserable life to Joan's, because Joan isn't falling apart. Nothing seems to affect her. Frustrated at her refusal to conform to his narrative, he chooses fear.
The story ends with Jack on his death bed, screaming at Joan because he literally believes that she's the angel of death. Joan dismisses his concerns. She was worried about her oldest friend. After all, they've known each other for 30 years so why wouldn't she visit him when he's sick?
The 30 years line is strange. Cheever published βTorch Songβ in 1947. The story begins the 1930s. Unless Joan is exaggerating, the story ends in the 1960s. Only a few paragraphs separate the end of the war with the end of Jack. In one throwaway line, Cheever tells us that Jack has spent over 20 years staying in cheap hotels and losing his savings. No wonder Jack's last minute attempt to empty the ash tray and throw away the whiskey fails. Jack has been on this course for decades. Even in the last moments, he prefers to blame a woman, probably the one woman that still cares about him.
John Cheever is not a feminist writer, but this story is a feminist one. Cheever depicts a woman who lives her life without rules or shame. She doesn't rush to get married and have children. She has a career with a secretary. She ignores gender expectation. She remains alive, happy and successful. Jack comes to fear her because Jack can only see women as wives or victims. Joan doesn't reject his bias. She ignores it entirely. As far as Jack is concerned, Joan's rejection of patriarchal values is sinister. Jack dies angry, certain that Joan's confidence is witchcraft. He's not the first or the last man to assume witchcraft.
For more stories about sad men who canβt deal with women, check out This Other Eden by Michael Hemmingson
Iβm a freelance writer who took a major hit last year because many of my clients decided to use plagiarism software instead of paying me. I anticipate βfix this AI garbageβ writing jobs in the future but in the meantime, please consider donating to my Gofundme - my landlord will definitely appreciate it.
For more on John Cheever, check out this article