Marito in Citta by John Cheever Like all the stories of John Cheever- exceptional

 Marito in Citta by John Cheever

Like all the stories of John Cheever- exceptional

The subject of this short story, visible from the title, made me think of a comedy I have seen years ago-

-          The Seven Years Itch, with Marylin Monroe in top form

The husband is left alone in the city, while his family is off, for the summer vacation, which for some reason he cannot have.

                “La moglie ce ne va, marito poverino, solo in cittadina,”

The name of the story comes from a song, about the poor husband that the hero of the tale remembers from Europe.

Mr. Estabrook sings the lines on the way to the railway station as he is enthused with the perspective of doing so much…alone.

He will sing at the piano, read and so much more.

But to begin with he has problems feeding himself, for he cannot eat the omelet that he has prepared.

The food in a local restaurant appears to be even worse, although out of politeness he makes no reproach to the waiter.

Scamper, the mixed breed that the family owns adds to the trouble by siting all  muddy, first on the couch and then on a chair.

Mr. Estabrook is off to a movie, and the author writes a wonderful three lines description of many, if not most movies:

“His moral indignation at this confluence of hunger, boredom, and loneliness was violent, and he thought sadly of the men who had been obliged to write the movie, and of the hard-working actors who were paid to repeat these crude lines. He could see them at the end of the day, getting out of their convertibles in Beverly Hills, utterly discouraged. Fifteen minutes was all he could stand, and he went home.”

The Husband in the City thinks about his marriage and the days before his wife left on holiday, when he had tried to have sex with her and she came up with a few tricks, including a flooding of the basement –

It had never crossed his mind before that the passion to be elusive was as strong in her sex as the passion to pursue was in his. This glimpse of things moved him; contented him, in a way; but was, as it so happened, the only contentment he had that night.

This may explain why, when he meets a woman that works on clothes doing alterations, Mr. Estabrook has an affair.

-          I wish I were in his place…

-          Not because of the affair he has, but for the reason he had needed alterations- he lost so much weight that he could no longer use his pants.

Mrs. Zagreb is the woman who does the modifications and she is pleasant and gay…the latter in the sense used some years ago- merry, happy.

She is puzzled at the weight that the client has lost and asks if he is on a diet, or perhaps sick, only to conclude

-          Oh, poor boy…do you know your measurements?

And since Mr. Estabrook does not know them, she has to measure him and this is when he embraces the woman, who says- not now.

As a religious man, the lonely husband is haunted by remorse and thoughts of mortal sin and refusing the communion, when it is due.

But, in the morning, after a shower with visions of the woman’s bosom, he looks her number up, calls and after a drink and embarrassed approaches, the author gives us the eternal, universal dialogue:

“We say across the pillow, in any language, “Hullo, hullo, hullo, hullo, hullo,” as if we were involved in some interminable and tender transoceanic telephone conversation, and the adulteress, taking the adulterer into her arms, will cry, “Oh, my love, why are you so bitter?”

And the humor continues-

                “So they kept saying “Hullo, hullo, hullo, hullo” until three, when she made him leave.”

I love the stories of John Cheever and this is no exception