Conventory _ RACHEL CUSK

Conventory _ RACHEL CUSK

 

작년 겨울에 읽은 책이다. 귀퉁이 접어놓은 곳은 그렇게 많지는 않았는데 접어둔 부분을 다시 펼쳐보며 몇페이지 이어서 읽어보며 당시에도 재미있었던 부분이라 가볍게 한번 더 읽은 느낌이다. 표지만큼 내지의 폰트도 모던했고, 일반적인 폰트보다는 0.5포인트정도 큰 듯하고 가독성도 좋아서, (내용 자체의 가독성도) 즐겁게 읽었던 것 같다. 사진은 11구의 아뜰리에에서 점심시간에 가끔씩 가곤했던 쿠스쿠스가게에서. 

공항검색대의 직원과 관련된 일화가 나오는데 무자비하고 기계적인 이 직원에게 똑같이 차갑게 대하던 승객은 비싼 화장품들이 버려졌고, 반대로 작가와 동행했던 점잖은 친구는 다정함과 공손함으로 무장해 공항직원이 손수 그의 물건을 다른 가방에 옮겨 닮아주는 제스쳐까지 유도하는 장면이 인상깊었다. 나도 가끔 이 스킬을 쓰기도 한다. 무례한 사람에게 놀라울 정도로 미소로 받아치게되면 상대방은 오히려 어떤 공격을 받은 것처럼 태도가 바뀔 때가 있다. 예외적으로 일관되게 무례한 사람도 있지만 그건 그 사람의 인생의 몫이니까. 회사에서도 무슨 요청만 하면 화만 내는 사람이 있는데 여전히 친절하게 대꾸한다면 별 탈은 없다. 그냥 시간만 지나면 모두가 알아주기 때문에. 같이 일하면서 성실하고 좋게 보아본 독일인 디자이너가 있는데 봉제사들도 모두 그를 칭찬했다. 유일하게 봉제사들에게 인사를 건네는 디자이너였다고. 

레이첼이 딸아이와 함께 학교 근처에서 평범하지만 개성있는 그런 카페에서 점심을 먹는 장면이 좋았다. 집에서와는 다른 장소에 놓여진 두사람의 환기와 그 자체로 일상의 행복이라는 햇살이 비추는 장면.           

 

The man is wearing a uniform, though not a very impressive one: a white short-sleeved synthetic shirt, black synthetic trouser, a cheap tie with the airport’s insignia on it. it is no different from the uniform a bus driver might wear, or someone at a car-rental desk, someone who lacks any meaningful authority while also being forced into constant interaction with members of the public, someone for whom the operation of character is both nothing and everything. He is angry. His face is red, and his expression is unpleasant. He looks at me -a woman of forty-eight travelling alone, a woman who doubtless exhibits some signs of the privileged life she has led - with loathing. Apparently it was rude of me to accuse him of rudeness.

The social code remains unwritten, and it has always interested me how many problems this poses in the matter of ascertaining the truth. The truth often appears in the guise of a threat to the social code. It has this in common with rudeness. When people tell the truth, they can experience a feeling of released from pretence that is perhaps similar to the release of rudeness. It might follow that people can mistake truth for rudeness, and rudeness for truth. It may only be b examining the aftermath of each that it becomes possible to prove which was which. p.47

 

Are people rude because they are unhappy? Is rudeness like nakedness, a state deserving the tact and mercy of the clothes? If we are polite to rude people, perhaps we give them back their dignity; yet the obsessiveness of the rude presents certain challenges to the proponents of civilised behaviour. It is an act of disinhibition: like a narcotic, it offers a sensation of glorious release from jailers no one else can see. p.53

 

A feminist man is a bit like a vegetarian: it’s the humanitarian principle he’s defending, I suppose. Sometimes feminism seems to involve so much criticism of female modes of being that you could be forgiven for thinking that a feminist is a woman who hates women, hates them for being such saps. Then again, the feminist is supposed to hate man. p.121

 

I earned the money in our household, did my share of the cooking and cleaning, paid someone to look after the children while i worked, picked them up from school once they were older. And my husband helped. It was his phrase, and still is: he helped me. I was the compartmentalised modern woman, the woman having it all, and he helped me to be it, to have it. But I didn’t want help: I wanted equality. In fact, this idea of help began to annoy me. Why couldn’t we be the same? Why couldn’t he be compartmentalised too? And why, exactly, was it helpful for a man to look after his own children, or cook the food that he himself would eat? Helpful is what a good child is to its mother. A helpful person is someone who perfomes duties outside their own sphere of responsibility, out of the kindness of their heart. Help is dangerous because it exists outside the human economy: the only payment for help is gratitude. And did i not have something of the same gratuitous tone where my wage-earning was concerned? Did i not think there was something awfully helpful about me, a woman, supporting my own family? p.131