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Mary is falling in love

January 26, 2010

with a scoundrel. Mary Wollstonecraft, that is. And I am avoiding writing about it. Well, avoiding isn’t quite the right word, as I have actually been teaching, but tomorrow, when I get to write again, I will have to write about the big jilt. Mary W is pregnant, unmarried, and has shacked up with a sexy American and it is 1793 and I keep wanting to tell her to STOP. He is no good. He is going to abandon you and the baby, but she won’t listen. So, all I can do is write my way through it and eat 500 pretzels. I don’t know why the pretzels help — but they do.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. January 27, 2010 7:04 am

    Ah, the pre-Byronic Mr. Imlay! By the way, Imlaystown, New Jersey, is my father’s ancestral home. Don’t you think that’s funny?

  2. Ruth permalink
    January 27, 2010 7:18 am

    pretzels are twisted too

  3. January 27, 2010 9:57 am

    Yes! What is Imlaystown like? Who else would know the identity of the villain? I am so glad you are out there.

  4. January 27, 2010 10:08 am

    These days, Imlaystown is like any other central Jersey town. Read a Richard Ford novel, and you will know all. But in the days before the parkway, it used to be the heart of the Garden State: lush and beautiful, filled with Dutch farmers (and their slaves) and Quaker farmers (and, believe it or not, their slaves). I’m sure Imlay enjoyed himself there, especially without Mary holding him back.

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