Jeanette Winterson - Boating for Beginners

Copyright 1985 by Jeanette Winterson

For Philippa Brewster and Ezra the WhiteRabbit

Bags of rocks and chunks of Ararat, Turkey,

that Biblical archaeologists believe

are relics of Noah's Ark have been taken

to the US for laboratory analysis.

The Guardian :28.8.84

At eighteen she realised that she would neverhave the bone structure to be decadent...

Years of grimacing in the mirror and coveringher face in a solution of bone meal had all been wasted. Her nose was snub, herjaw undistinguished, and she was short.

'It's your own fault, Gloria,' scolded hermother. 'You wouldn't take milk as a child.'

She had dreamed of martyrdom, her elegantprofile jutting through the flames; she had dreamed of stardom, eager thousandstrying to make their cheekbones just like hers. At the very least she mighthave been a recluse, casting aquiline shadows across her unswept floor. Now,all these things were closed to her, and what was left? She was moderatelyintelligent, but not very, she had a way with animals, and she wanted to fallin love. She sat down and accepted her fate. Either she could be a secretary orshe could be a prostitute. If she chose the latter there would be the problemof what to wear for work and how to arrange her hair (her recent experimentswith ash-blond tint had left her threadbare she should probably have mixedthe powder with water instead of bleach).

'I can wear a headscarf if I'm a secretary,' shetold herself. Then, a little sadly, 'There's no such thing as a baldprostitute.'

She knew she would have to settle for lessmoney, but she solaced that blow with thoughts of luncheon vouchers and regularhours. One of her mother's magazines was lying on the floor, and although sheknew it would end in tears, Gloria picked it up and turned the pages. It wasfull of people whose jaws could have been used as scythes. They led richfulfilling lives doing nothing at all and earning vast sums of money. Theyoffered her their beauty tips, cut-price bath oil, and exclusive revealinginterviews about their glittering lives. Quickly, Gloria turned to the problempage: acne, period pains, unwanted body hair, fat husbands, ugly wives. Shefelt a wave of relief. At least some people were still vile, obscure andblotchy. Not for them glamorous bed-hopping and expensive narcotics. Her mothercalled it sordid, but she still bought the magazines.

'For the recipes,' she said, whenever she caughtGloria's reproachful eye. Certainly the recipes were magnificent: sorbetssmothered in cream, passion fruit dripping with Kirsch, breasts of melon spreadwith honey. Gloria dreamed the tastes while Mrs Munde carried on steaming fish.Her mother was nothing if not regular.

'Brain food,' she declared, and at other times:'Fish, the Lord's first born.'

Mother and daughter laboured under a highlycomplex and entirely different understanding of the nature of theirrelationship. Often, Gloria would look at her mother and wonder who she was.She had been known to pass her in the street and not recognise her. Mrs Munde,on the other hand, fondly believed they shared a common ground other than theone they were sitting on. That night, as dusk fell, and her mother served upthe fish, Gloria felt emotional enough to attempt a conversation. Usually shelet her mother talk.

'Mother, have you ever been in love?'

'Of course I have: I was in love with yourfather. He had legs so fine it was a sin to walk on them. The first time I sawhim I was lying face-down in the soil crying my eyes out because I'd lost mygrass snake. I looked up and there were his legs going up like columns, and oh,at the very top, his head. I thought I was seeing a vision. He spent all daywith me trying to find that snake, and at about half past three, I knew I hadfallen in love.'

'Did he love you too?'

'No, I don't think he loved me until I made himmy chocolate mousse.'

Gloria nodded slowly, stirring the fish pan witha bit of twig. If it could happen to her mother, surely it could happen to her?Perhaps she would marry her boss? Perhaps he would come in one day, and whiskthe scarf from her head (her hair was bound to grow again), then murmursomething about her being irresistible. She'd let him take her, right there, infront of the water dispenser and afterwards it would be a large house, babies,and endless barbecues on the lawn.

'Mother, I want to be a secretary,' sheannounced, suddenly and firmly. Her mother sat up from where she had beendrawing dust pictures of her first husband (one of the reasons she enjoyedeating outside was the freedom it gave her to do other things).

'You can't be, it's dangerous, I won't let you,you don't know any shorthand, you'll have to drink instant coffee.'

'No I won't,' said Gloria as reasonably as sheknew how. 'I'll take the grinder, and I can learn shorthand at school. I wantto live in the city and meet interesting men.'

'Whore!' screamed her mother. 'Why don't youjust become a prostitute?'

Gloria didn't want to go through all that again,so she just said, 'I'll come home and visit you, I promise.'

Mrs Munde was beside herself. 'I'm not lettingyou go and live in the city. It's full of gaming clubs and unmentionablepractices; you'll get a disease.'

'I'll be careful. I'll share a flat with anothergirl.'

The mother burst into floods of tears andstarted to bang her head against the fish kettle. 'If only your father wasalive,' she moaned. 'That I should be left to see my only daughter come tothis.'

At that moment a low bellow upstaged themother's din. Gloria got up.

'I've got to go and give Trebor his supper. It'snot fair to keep him waiting.' She hurried over to the outhouse where herelephant was gently swinging his trunk. While she got his food ready Gloriatalked over her plans, reassuring Trebor: 'Don't worry, I'll take you with mewhen I go. We'll find a landlady who doesn't mind pets.' The elephant gruntedand together they sank into a daydream of what life would be like in the city...

All this was happening a long time ago,before the flood. The Big Flood starring God and Noah and a cast of thousandswho never survived to collect their royalty cheques. Of course you know thestory because you've read it in the Bible and other popular textbooks, butthere's so much more between the lines. It's a blockbuster full of infamy,perfidy and frozen food and in just a few hours when you've read this book yourlife will seem rich and full

Noah was an ordinary man, bored and fat, runninga thriving little pleasure boat company called Boating for Beginners. Gaudilypainted cabin cruisers took droves of babbling tourists up and down the Tigrisand Euphrates, sightseeing. It was a modest but sound operation. Noah workedhard and was not pleased to see the fruits of his labour slipping away intodubious community projects. That was the trouble with Nineveh: it had become aSocialist state full of immigrants, steel bands and Black Forest Gteau. Hedidn't mind a piece of cake himself but a woman's place was in the kitchen. Hebelieved that refrigerators had started the long slide into decadence. Work,good labour-intensive work, was what kept a society together; and now with allthese convenience foods and ready-mixed cocktails there was too much time foragitation and revolution.

Today had been especially depressing. He hadopened his morning paper to find that the corrupt Nineveh council had approvedyet more taxpayers' money to be spent on providing roller skates for outlyingvillages without proper public transport. He reached for his heart pills; itwas really getting a bit much. Suddenly a huge hand poked out of the sky,holding a leaflet. Trembling, Noah took it. It was yellow with black lettersand it said, 'I AM THAT I AM, YAHWEH THE UNPRONOUNCEABLE.'