The author explores marital discord, and all its entanglements as to what brings a previously happy couple to a state of unrecognizable discontent. The tone of this piece makes it very believable, and raw. In its presentation, it is not amplified or overly dramatic, but rather dry and placid. There is a marriage; it is broken, is how it reads. Written from the disillusioned husband’s perspective, we are made aware of his impending departure from the family. He wallows pensively in his final night at home with his wife Susan and two young sons. The two are very much in their own worlds, with Susan’s being largely defined by the kids, and his more or less marked by a kind of neglectful existence, left to fend for his own emotional stability and sexual needs. The characterization in this piece is what evokes such a strong message of unhappiness, and how binding obligations of home and a desire to hunt for our own personal happiness makes for a revolting life issue.
In his lecture about Lightness, Italo Calvino says, “The best designs are always simple and free of weightiness. Much like writing, certain words evoke a feeling or imagery of weight” (Calvino, 8). Hanif Kureischi accomplishes this with his refined style of writing, painting the protagonist’s impending exit as a quietly somber one. There is no knock-down, drag out fight, no profanities, just the protagonist realizing that he doesn’t fit in the very life in which he has created for himself. But the reader can feel the weight of the protagonist’s dilemma—the pain, the guilt involved (on part of his kids).
The protagonist’s wife, Susan is depicted as somewhat of a neo-feminist, strong willed about her opinions and self-assured, able to maintain composure, while the protagonist assumes a more passive exterior. “When we really talk, it is about them—something they said or did” (Kureishi 362). The scene at the dinner table really speaks volumes to the palpable void within their marriage. Susan flips on the television and he reads the newspaper. When the two attempt to converse, it becomes nothing more than a trivial tit-for-tat where Susan picks at every little thing he does. “Sometimes I go along with what Susan wants, but in an absurd parodic way, hoping she will see how foolish I find her” (Kureishi 365). The author succeeds at illustrating the protagonist’s apathetic stance with regard to Susan’s maladjusted treatment of him. While he doesn’t necessarily play the victim role, we can see that he is indeed disconnected. His actions are somewhat robotic, where he does things, but there lacks feeling behind it. If he feels anything at all, it is for his two sons, of whom he is about to leave. At the closing there is good illustration of the struggle he feels, as he kisses the one good night for the last time in a long while until he will be united with them again, and solemnly walks out the door.