responded Julie. “I only turned twenty-one three months ago.”
“ You barely look eighteen.”
“ I know. I still wear my own clothes sometimes, and nobody ever checks my ID. I realise I'm taking a risk, but I hate skirts.”
“Me too. But you should be careful. I was caned for going out in jeans.”
“I have a cousin who escaped from Israel, and she told me that after the ultra-Orthodox took over, women weren't even allowed to wear trousers in their own homes. The religious police could enter any time to make sure they were properly dressed. Women are banned from reading novels and singing in public there as well. I love reading and I'm a singer, so on the whole I'd rather live here, despite the Hunt.”
“ I'd never have guessed you were a singer.”
“ I become a different person onstage. My boyfriend has a band called Get to Know Your Rabbit. I sing with them, and wrote one of their songs. We don't have a recording deal yet, but we're getting a lot of club bookings.”
“ Do you live in London?”
“ Yeah. I live with my parents in Ealing, but I'm hoping to move in with my boyfriend later this year. Where do you live?”
“ Caledonian Road. It's near St. Pancras.”
“ St. Pancras is great. We performed in a club there once.”
“ How about singing your song for me?”
“ You need to hear it with the music.”
Mara made a comical pleading face and said, “Oh pleeease!”
Julie couldn't help laughing. “Okay, but it really won't be the same.” She leaned back, closed her eyes, and began humming. Then one of the most exquisite voices Mara had ever heard filled the dark apartment.
“There is a house on the edge of town.
It's been there forever, so they say.
I've never once been inside it,
Though I pass it every single day.
My friends all believe it's haunted
By ghosts and spirits of the past.
But the only ghosts I'm afraid of
Are those of a life that will not last.
I know some day I must enter this house,
And leave behind everything that's me.
But until then I think I'll keep passing by,
Trying to pretend that I am free. ”
Mara was moved to tears. “That's beautiful. But it's so sad.”
“ Yet I'm not a sad person,” said Julie, more to herself than to Mara. She shook her head, as if suddenly remembering where she was. “Well, I am at the moment, but not normally.”
“ What does the house represent? Death?”
“ It could be. But it's more than that. Loss of identity, loss of individuality. Death is the ultimate loss of individuality.”
“ You say that one day you must enter the house. Does that mean you see loss of individuality as inevitable, even before death?”
“ I guess so. It's hard for me to explain. I'm much better at expressing these things in lyrics and poems.”
Mara hesitated a moment before asking, “Are we in the house now?”
“ No...not yet...I don't know. Let's talk about something else. What do you do?”
“ I write too, actually. I'm a novelist.”
Julie was excited by this. “Should I have heard of you?”
“ Of course you should,” said Mara with a grin. “But you won't have done. All my books are banned by the British censor.”
“ Why?”
“ They're about a female private detective named Melissa Valance. The powers that be don't like books which show women acting independently. I suppose they think it might give people the wrong idea about our place in society.”
“ I don't understand why men hate women so much in this country. I'm sure it's not like that everywhere. It didn't even used to be like that here.”
“ I think it was always like this, here and most other places. It's all on the surface now. But if you study history, you'll find misogyny existed in some form at all periods. I have a friend who's a film critic. She once showed me Ingmar Bergman's The Serpent's Egg . It's set in Germany during the nineteen-twenties, and there's a scene in which a character claims that anyone willing to make the
“ You barely look eighteen.”
“ I know. I still wear my own clothes sometimes, and nobody ever checks my ID. I realise I'm taking a risk, but I hate skirts.”
“Me too. But you should be careful. I was caned for going out in jeans.”
“I have a cousin who escaped from Israel, and she told me that after the ultra-Orthodox took over, women weren't even allowed to wear trousers in their own homes. The religious police could enter any time to make sure they were properly dressed. Women are banned from reading novels and singing in public there as well. I love reading and I'm a singer, so on the whole I'd rather live here, despite the Hunt.”
“ I'd never have guessed you were a singer.”
“ I become a different person onstage. My boyfriend has a band called Get to Know Your Rabbit. I sing with them, and wrote one of their songs. We don't have a recording deal yet, but we're getting a lot of club bookings.”
“ Do you live in London?”
“ Yeah. I live with my parents in Ealing, but I'm hoping to move in with my boyfriend later this year. Where do you live?”
“ Caledonian Road. It's near St. Pancras.”
“ St. Pancras is great. We performed in a club there once.”
“ How about singing your song for me?”
“ You need to hear it with the music.”
Mara made a comical pleading face and said, “Oh pleeease!”
Julie couldn't help laughing. “Okay, but it really won't be the same.” She leaned back, closed her eyes, and began humming. Then one of the most exquisite voices Mara had ever heard filled the dark apartment.
“There is a house on the edge of town.
It's been there forever, so they say.
I've never once been inside it,
Though I pass it every single day.
My friends all believe it's haunted
By ghosts and spirits of the past.
But the only ghosts I'm afraid of
Are those of a life that will not last.
I know some day I must enter this house,
And leave behind everything that's me.
But until then I think I'll keep passing by,
Trying to pretend that I am free. ”
Mara was moved to tears. “That's beautiful. But it's so sad.”
“ Yet I'm not a sad person,” said Julie, more to herself than to Mara. She shook her head, as if suddenly remembering where she was. “Well, I am at the moment, but not normally.”
“ What does the house represent? Death?”
“ It could be. But it's more than that. Loss of identity, loss of individuality. Death is the ultimate loss of individuality.”
“ You say that one day you must enter the house. Does that mean you see loss of individuality as inevitable, even before death?”
“ I guess so. It's hard for me to explain. I'm much better at expressing these things in lyrics and poems.”
Mara hesitated a moment before asking, “Are we in the house now?”
“ No...not yet...I don't know. Let's talk about something else. What do you do?”
“ I write too, actually. I'm a novelist.”
Julie was excited by this. “Should I have heard of you?”
“ Of course you should,” said Mara with a grin. “But you won't have done. All my books are banned by the British censor.”
“ Why?”
“ They're about a female private detective named Melissa Valance. The powers that be don't like books which show women acting independently. I suppose they think it might give people the wrong idea about our place in society.”
“ I don't understand why men hate women so much in this country. I'm sure it's not like that everywhere. It didn't even used to be like that here.”
“ I think it was always like this, here and most other places. It's all on the surface now. But if you study history, you'll find misogyny existed in some form at all periods. I have a friend who's a film critic. She once showed me Ingmar Bergman's The Serpent's Egg . It's set in Germany during the nineteen-twenties, and there's a scene in which a character claims that anyone willing to make the
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