Terms of Endearment, a novel by Larry McMurtry (we won’t be discussing the movie) concerns Aurora Greenway, a Houston matron, and her married daughter Emma Horton.
My concern here is with Aurora. Before I begin, I have to tell you, she is a beloved figure in modern American popular literature. Larry McMurtry is often referred to as a man who “gets” women. He writes female characters beautifully. In the book Lonesome Dove, Clara Allen, a rancher, is an example of a great female character. Emma Horton, Aurora’s own daughter, is a wonderful character. So, yes, Larry McMurtry is capable of writing brilliant female characters. At least, as far as I can tell. After all, I’m a man.
I am critical of Aurora Greenway because, frankly, there is something wrong with her. What is it? Various reviewers and readers mention that Aurora is a character they love, but they often find her perplexing or difficult.
Aurora Greenway is deeply flawed, both as a character and a person.
Who is Aurora Greenway? She is described as a 49-year-old woman, widowed for three years. Once or twice she is described as “fat”. She lives in a good neighborhood and seems to be wealthier than she really is. She likes to think that she dresses well, but she seems to favor frilly things and clothes often described as “gowns” and “bathrobes,” both of which are meant to be glamorous.
Much of the book takes place in 1962. Aurora has been widowed for three years. She was married to her husband, Rudyard Greenway, for 24 years, and then he quietly died in a chair. He had been impeccable in several ways.” He was tall, handsome, beautifully mannered” and had a patent on a chemical that was useful to the oil industry. The industry paid him “comfortable sums of money.” In no other way did he appear to be interesting. “A plant could not have been easier to relate to, or less exciting.” Aurora admits to herself that she can barely conjure any useful or vivid memories of him.
It turns out that Emma, her husband Flap, and the promising young novelist Danny Deck “were all one another’s best friends and had been for three years.” Since Emma was 22 in 1962, three years earlier she would have been 19. This leads me to assume that Danny, Flap, and Emma became best friends in university. The men were probably in the third or fourth year since Flap (real name Thomas Horton) got his degree but Emma didn’t. Instead, they got married two years ago.
Emma went to college the year her dad died. There is no mention in this book of her grief at his passing or how his death affected her.
During those three same years Aurora has acquired a small collection of “suitors”, men who moon about her and wish, somewhat desperately, they could sleep with her. Two of those suitors seem to predate her marriage and are actually former lovers.
It is worth noting that she was 22 when she married Rudyard, the same age that Emma is when she gets pregnant. Perhaps this is why Aurora becomes so upset when Emma tells her that she is pregnant. Aurora’s main stated concern about her daughter’s pregnancy is that she (Aurora) will lose her suitors as a result of becoming a grandmother.
Aurora is supposed by all to be charming, but she is, in fact, genuinely intolerable. Almost all of her clever remarks are biting criticisms of everything about the people around her. She attracts men who can’t resist her charms but wither in the face of her constant criticisms, and she is cruel to her daughter. She is frequently fighting to suppress fear or confusion.
Aurora is deeply needy but hyper-critical. She draws people to her and simultaneously drives them away. She dominates her surroundings and selects as companions only those who will submit to her endless criticism and self-involvement. Her suitors must display a strong capacity to serve her whims. She makes demands and switches those demands around halfway through her sentences. When people are dismayed by her inconsistency and crazy demands she has some rather sharp things to say about their own worth and lack of integrity. She seems to feel deeply but is unable to connect those feelings to her outer expression. Her main criticism of all people is “Why aren’t you a better person so that you may serve and please me more effectively?”
Emma, on the other hand, seems to take after her father. She can ignore, much of the time, her mother’s foibles. Emma is actually kind and capable of love. She is not obsessed with her own appearance nor does she make unreasonable demands of those around her. She does take lovers, but only after her husband has lost interest in her and has taken his own lovers. She comes to an end in Terms of Endearment. I think that Emma, rather than her mother, is the reason so many people form an emotional attachment to the novel. This is also true of the enormously popular movie of the same name, which I said we would not discuss. Terms of Endearment is about people who operate in Aurora’s orbit, with her as their sun. As it turns out, though, it is Emma’s book. Everyone who reads the book or sees the movie loves Emma, and her death at the end of the story is what tears people up emotionally. Aurora never changes and remains a mystery to herself and others. We follow Emma to the grave, and we all have a good cry. Aurora could get hit by a bus and I don’t think readers would be as moved.
What has made Aurora Greenway so critical and unkind, and so defensive and self-centered? She must tear others down to maintain her own complacency and self-satisfaction. She requires unquestioning adoration. How did she get this way?
What has made Aurora so desperate, needy, and panicky all the time?
The precipitating event for Aurora in this stage of her life is a trauma that is not properly acknowledged, although it is mentioned several times. The tragedy of her life is the death of her husband, Rudyard. In the book, Rudyard is not given credit for much, except for steadiness. He is boring but he is steady. When Emma tells her mother that she is pregnant, Aurora has an emotional fit. There is screaming, crying, and carrying on. When Emma asks her what is wrong she says “Meee!” Then she says that her life is “unsteady.” Maybe she says “unsettled.” Her husband’s death has left her in a world of uncertainty. Her fears overcome her at unexpected moments. She must constantly rally all of her forces to keep her from active despair. It is a battle fought at every moment. She has not actively grieved her late husband. Aurora Greenway is living in a state of unresolved grief.
The only times Aurora feels calm and in control of her life are when she gets her hapless adoring suitors gathered around her for a dinner party. At such times she is their queen, and their only purpose is to buoy her up as they, and she, bask in her magnificence.
I have read reviews of Terms of Endearment that have referred to it as a comedy. Slapstick comedy. It’s possible I have missed the point of the book altogether. To me, it is the story of a bitter, frightened, and confused woman who is drowning in grief. She lashes out constantly, instinctively. There are hints that she has always been this way to some degree, but the loss of her husband has allowed her demons to bloom. I think, in the end, the death of her daughter brings her back into the world by teaching her about real grief. This is the event that will enable her to go on with her own life, although in a somewhat diminished, less fantastical, state.
When Emma, her daughter on whom she heaped nothing but scorn most of her life, has died, Aurora says, simply, “She was a proper daughter.” She would never have said anything this kind while Emma was alive. She couldn’t. In fact, she frequently told her she was not a proper daughter. This quiet admission is Aurora’s healing moment. We would have to read the sequel to Terms of Endearment, which is The Evening Star, a book that deals with the remainder of Aurora’s life, to see how she turns out in the long run. Frankly, I’m not quite up to it at the moment.
It turns out that Aurora Greenway is a great character, even though there is something wrong with her.