The Moth - The Grinch Rides Again: Mary Gaitskill

Episode Date: December 17, 2021

This week, a story for everyone who might feel just a little grinchy around the holidays. This episode is hosted by Moth Producer Michelle Jalowski. Hosted by: Michelle Jalowski Storyteller: Mary Gaitskill

Attention Houston! You have listened to our podcast and our radio hour, but did you know the Moth has live storytelling events at Wearhouse Live? The Moth has opened Mike's storytelling competitions called Story Slams that are open to anyone with a five-minute story to share on the night's theme. Upcoming themes include love hurts, stakes, clean, and pride. GoodLamoth.org forward slash Houston to experience a live show near you. That's the moth.org forward slash Houston. Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm Michelle Jalasky, your host for this week. The holidays can be tough. Constit reminders that you're supposed to spend quality time with loved

ones to find joy and togetherness to just be happy. But what if that's not that you're supposed to spend quality time with loved ones to find joy and togetherness to just be happy. But what if that's not where you're at? What if holiday movies and Mariah Carey songs don't perfectly describe you this festive season? The Grinch gets a bad rap, but can we really blame him? The holidays can be overwhelming, and sometimes as we make our way through this chaotic world, we can all feel a little grinchy. Our story this week is from Mary Gatesco. Mary told this on a cold night just a few weeks from the holidays at a moth main stage in New York City where the theme of the night was leap of faith. Here's Mary live at

the moth. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I was separated from my husband, and I was in humongous debt, like 66K of it. I just taken a job teaching at a college in Geneva, New York, way up state. It was a temporary job that came with the furnished house.

And so I decided to give up the rental home, I shared with my husband, put all my stuff in a storage locker and save some money. with my husband, put all my stuff in a storage locker and saves the money. My last night in my hometown was spent at a motel with a boyfriend of three months, and we broke up that night when I literally ran out of the motel, fled to another motel, drove up to the bucolic college town the next day where I arrived in a pretty bad mode. My first social experience was a cocktail party held to welcome me at which I was so testy and weird that I alienated I'd say three people including

the head of the department who would engage me in a conversation about Madame Bovary, which she seemed to think was a book about a very bad mother. Excuse me? They didn't have birth control then. She didn't want the kid. Look, she didn't beat her, she didn't starve her, she didn't strangle her, she didn't beat her, she didn't starve her, she didn't strangle her, she didn't leave her in a ditch or drop her down a well or drown her in a toilet or at which point the head

of the department is looking at me like, this is the person we brought here to guide our young impressionable students. Can we send her back? But I actually like the students, they were nice. I like some of the faculty. I was friendly with the people across the street in the science department. They had these two cute kids, Laurel, Eight, and Rose Six. But it was kind of hard to connect with such a close knit community, which was so much about families. It didn't help that I was in a state of grief about my marriage still, or that my sister

was going through a truly horrible divorce at the same time. It also didn't help that my husband was about to publish a book, a memoir, about our marriage, which he said that no one would know was about our marriage. Because he had not named me by my name, but instead was referring to me as F. A pseudonym behind which I would be so hidden. Plus, I was working on a novel, which is a sort of cocooning experience that doesn't exactly foster community bonding. As part of writing on this novel, I had to do research on writing and handling horses,

which sounds like fun, except the horse that I was learning with up there was a very crabby animal named Buzz who would stamp menacingly when I groomed him, stamp when I put the saddle on him, fight the bit, shove me when I tightened his girth. The trainer was like, you're being too nice. His owners are real bitch. He's used to a heavy hand. Okay. So it was Teach, Write, Jim, Write, Angry Horse.

Teach, Write, Jim, Angry Horse. For fun. I drank and watched TV. Because I didn't have cable, I went for CNN, mostly depressing or just irritating news stories endlessly recycled, which I intercut with a show called Criminal Minds, which was about horrible crimes solved by the FBI heroes who did incredibly complex psychological profiling, which led to them always closing in on the killer at the end of the show as he hovered over his cringing victim shouting, drop the gun.

We know what your father did to you. We know what you're going through. So, one day in late November, I'm coming home to my house, and I see in the yard of this beautiful spreading branch tree. There's an envelope in it. And I think a message for me, I eagerly reach for the envelope, which is addressed to the Grinch.

On top of everything else, somebody's calling me a Grinch. Why? I open it and read. Dear Grinch, you're probably at the who's right now, having a good time. We're having a good time too, getting ready for Christmas. This year, I would like a beauty bar station, so I hope you can get it for me. Thank you ahead of time, Mary Christmas, Laurel. Okay, the little girl across the street.

I call her mother, Nan, to tell her about the letter. And she explains to me the family Grinchlor. She had read how the Grinch doll Christmas to Laurel when she was three, and the child had fallen in love with the billious protagonist, who returned her love with a pair of sparkly pink slippers, a decadent Christmas present that mama had already said no to. The lore had somehow expanded to involve the Grinch living in an invisible encampment in

my yard across the street, which is probably why Laurel thought he would get the letter left in the tree. Although the Grinch had given Laurel and Rose Christmas presents every year since the reading of the sacred text, Laurel had never before written a letter to him, and Ann wasn't sure why she had this year. I said, is it okay if I write back to Laurel? As the Grinch. Why sure, said, Ann, that sounds like fun.

I'm sure she'll write back to you. So I eagerly tore a page from my notebook and wrote in it. Hey, Laurel, it's a grinch. I'm not at the whos anymore, because we had a fight. And I'm back to hating Christmas. So I'm spending in my dark cave with my winged assistance. But even though I hate Christmas, I still like you, so I'm considering your request.

If you're a friend, a crinch. No. I've put the letter in the tree and eagerly awaited a reply, which did not calm. Nann said she read the letter over Laurel Schulder and that the child seemed quite stony about it. She didn't even want to talk about it. I started to apologize and Nann said, no, no, it's okay. She's at the age where she's realizing that relationships change and sometimes not for the better.

I'm sure she'll write back to you, but she did not. I check the tree every day. I was honestly kind of hurt. But I was also surprised. I thought, come on, little girl, it's a Grinch. You gotta let a Grinch be a Grinch. Still, no letter. I had dinner with the family a couple times. I brought by for Thanksgiving, watch Laurel Danceon, the Nutcracker Ballet, had a good time. But I did notice that the child was looking a little pale and sour and that one night she even snapped at her father

after he'd praised she and rose for something. Dad stopped acting like we're so great. We're not and you know it. Well, Christmas came and went. I spent it in my Chicago with my sister and her kids. Came back, worked up my novel, Road Buzz. roadbuzz was reassured almost every night by the FBI that no matter what we know what you're going through. Eventually I got together with Nan and asked if the Grinch had at least come through with the beauty bar and she said yes he had.

But when they sat down to watch the cartoon, and Rose was rapsodically recapping about how happy and loving the Grinch was, Laurel just sat there looking kind of sick, like she knew the truth. And it was on her to protect her sister's innocence. I expressed surprise that Laurel had taken it quite so hard. And that's when Nan told me that there had been some trouble between her and her husband that year and a lot of tension around the house, which the kids had picked up on. And that had been right around the time when Laurel wrote the letter to the Grinch.

And she thought that's probably why she was so upset that he and the who's had broken up. Nan, being a calm person and an experienced parent, felt pretty sure that this could be taken in stride, but I was not. I thought this is awful. This charade has taken a turn for the worst. I got to write another letter. And I did. This time, not from the Grinch. Dear Laurel, this is the Grinch's winged assistant, 002.

Second in command. The Grinch is wondering if you received the beauty bar and if you liked it. And just between you and me, Laurel, The Grinch is wondering if you received the beauty bar and if you liked it. And just between you and me, Laurel, he thinks you might be angry at him over his quarrel with the hooves. He knows he is in the wrong, but he doesn't know how to apologize. Please send us your prayers and good wishes. I am confident that that would help. Now, because we were well into January, and I didn't want Laurel to think the Grinch had forgotten

or so for so long, I distressed the letter and basically acted like I'd found it in the yard where it probably fell out of the tree. Went over across the street and said, Laurel, I found this letter. It seems to be to you from somebody named a winged assistant. Do you know anything about this? There was a letter in the tree the next day. Well, nobody likes to apologize, but I'm sure if he did, the whos would forgive him right away, they are so nice. To which the winged assistant replied,

well, you see, Laurel, when a person's heart grows as fast and as large as the Grinches did on that Christmas so many years ago, well, it can be quite sensitive and vulnerable and easily hurt, even by well-meaning who's. It might help if you could offer him some encouragement. He cares a lot about what you think. Again, letter of entry the next morning.

I'd like to encourage him, but it might help if I knew what the fight was about. Well, you see, Laurel, the whos were getting ready for Christmas early like they always do, and the Grinch was especially excited about a special present he'd gotten his favorite little huger. He was in the corner wrapping it, and the child came running up and said, is that for me?" And she saw it, and the surprise was ruined. And the grinch was so upset that he startled at the child, and she burst into tears and ran away from him.

The grinch was mortified, and he slunk back to his room where he planned to stay for the rest of the night. But a kindly whomother, who'd seen seen the whole thing knocked on the door and treated him to come out, which he did. And he tried to make it right by smiling at the child, but because he was so embarrassed and felt so bad, the smile came out all wrong, like a horrible lear with teeth and everything. And the kid just burst into tears again. This was too much for the Grinch. He fled back to his room where he summoned his winged assistance and made it escape

out the window back to the cave where he sulked to this day. He is not sure if he can't even smile correctly in a way that people can understand, if he can ever be good again, maybe it was the very large glass of wine I was drinking. Maybe it was the beautiful snowfall that night. But I got strangely emotional writing this letter so much so that I didn't realize until I went out to put the letter in the tree that I couldn't put it in the tree because of the heavy snowfall which would cause footprints to be walking up and back and

give away the whole thing. The dramatic frustration of this was heightened the next day when I saw a loral outside at the foot of the tree examining some animal tracks. It's the winged assistant. She cried to her sister across the street, but it didn't leave anything in the tree. Something must be wrong. Which meant that I spent a good part of that day going from store to store, looking for the longest barbecue tongs I could find. Which meant that after midnight, after the snow plows had banked the snow, I was out there clutching the letter in the tongs. It was a beautiful night, very clear,

starry, with the heavy snow weighing down the branches of all the trees, including my tree, the magic Grinch tree, which as I approached it sweeping up my tracks with a small pine bow. I realized this was important to me. I was still alone in a strange place. I was still in pretty serious debt. And I had no idea where I was going to go after this. But right then, I was really loving being the secret Grinch pen pal with this little girl across the street. really loving being the secret Grinch pen pal of this little girl across the street. I felt real joy in reaching up with the tongs to get the letter in the tree.

And I felt even more joy when I read the letter the next day. I think it was really brave of you to smile when you didn't feel like it. I know because I do it sometimes and it's hard. If you can do that, you can still be good. Love, Laurel. In other words, you may be a big old grinch, and I might be a little eight-year-old girl.

But still, I know what you're going through. Thank you. That was Mary Gateskill. Mary is a novelist, essayist, and short story writer. She published her first book, A Story Collection titled Bad Behavior in 1988. She has since published two more collections of stories and three novels. Her newest work is The Devil's Treasure, a book of stories and dreams, and it's illustrated with art by Mary herself. That's all for this episode, whether you're a holiday Grinch or a holiday lover, whatever you do or don't celebrate, have a story-worthy week and a happy festive season

from all of us at The Moth. Michelle Jolowski is a producer and director at The Moth, where she helps people craft and shape their stories for stages all over the world. This episode of the Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin-Jones, Sarah Jane Johnson, Mark Solinger, and me, Davey Sumner, with assistance from Jason Richards. Mary Gait's skills story was directed by George Dawes Green. The rest of the Moss leadership team includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bulls, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Cluche, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant, Inga Gladowski, and Aldi Kaza.

All Moth stories are true as remembered by Storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story and everything else, visit our website, themoth.org. The Moth podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at PRX.org. you