Super Sad True Love Story: A Novel

by Gary Shteyngart

  So Howard Shu (he says “hi” by the way) has been doing a lot of research and I think he’s hit upon something. We need to get your parents better credentialed, so they’re not just your average American immigrants with bad Credit. It’s hard to get Norwegian papers, but there’s a Chinese “Lao Wai” foreigner passport that gives you a lot of the same privileges, and you can even leave New York for six out of twelve months a year. He’s trying to qualify your father as essential personnel, because the podiatrist quota in NYC hasn’t been completely filled yet. The new IMF plan is very methodical about occupations. The problem is that in order to qualify your dad’s going to have to get a New York address, either in Manhattan or Brownstone Brooklyn, and the cheapest non-Triplex stuff in Carroll Gardens is going to go for about 750,000 yuan. So what I’m proposing is that I buy a place for your family, and if your dad ever makes enough money he can pay me back. We can get a student visa for Sally, and I can grandfather you in. So to speak. Ha ha. Anyway, it’s a good investment and I don’t mind doing it, because I love you. I know you hate it when Lenny reads to you, and I hate reading too, but there’s a great line by an old poet Walt Whitman: “Are you the New person drawn toward Me?” I used to think that all the time when I walked the streets of Manhattan, but I don’t think that anymore, because now I have you.

  I wanted to bring something up and I feel like it’s not really any of my beeswax. I know you want your family safe, but in some ways, does it make sense to have your father here, so close to you and your sister? Maybe I’m old-school, but when you talk about him walking into the shower when Sally is around, or how you watched him drag your mother out of bed by her hair, well, I think some people would call that physical and psychological abuse. I know there are cultural factors involved, I just want you and your sister protected from a man who obviously can’t control his behavior, and should be under supervision and taking medication. The lack of boundaries is one thing, but the violence sounds like it contravenes even Chinese basic law, forget about whatever hippie-dippy Scandinavian shit the Norwegians have. I hope you’ll move into my place soon (or we can get a bigger place if you feel claustrophobic), and then I’ll make sure no one ever touches or hurts you again.

  Okay, my little empress penguin, looks like I’ll be working through the weekend, more Staatling internal stuff, but every seventh minute I look up at the ceiling or down at the floor and picture your open, honest face and feel completely serene and completely in love.

  EUNI-TARD TO EUNI-TARD:

  I’m writing this for me. One day I want to look back at this day and make peace with what I’m about to do.

  All my life has been about doubts. But there’s no room for them now. I know I’m too young to have to make this kind of decision, but this is how things are.

  I miss Italy sometimes. I miss being a complete foreigner and having no ties to anyone. America might be gone completely soon, but I was never really an American. It was all pretending. I was always a Korean girl from a Korean family with a Korean way of doing things, and I’m proud of what that means. It means that, unlike so many people around me, I know who I am.

  Prof Margaux in Assertiveness Class said, “You are allowed to be happy, Eunice.” What a stupid American idea. Every time I thought of killing myself in my dorm room I thought of what Prof Margaux said and just started howling with laughter. You’re ALLOWED to be happy. Ha! Lenny always quotes this guy Froid who was a psychiatrist who said that the best we can do is turn all our crazy misery, all our parents bullshit, into common unhappiness. Sign me up.

  I wake up next to Joshie feeling that way. But also with a little thrill. We were doing brushstrokes with M. Cohen and I couldn’t believe the concentration on Joshie’s face. The way his lower lip was just hanging there like a little boy’s and he was breathing really carefully, like there was nothing more important in the world than brushstrokes. There’s something powerful in being able to let go and focus on something that’s completely outside yourself. I guess Joshie has had a lot of privilege in his life and he knows what to do with it.

  And then he noticed I was looking at him, and he just smiled like a little kid and pulled his lip in and tried to look his age, which I don’t think he can anymore. And I thought, Okay, I’m going to leave Lenny and I’m going to spend my life waking up next to Joshie, getting older every day, while he gets younger. There’s something right about that. It’s like my punishment. Morning, afternoon, night, sex, dinner, shopping, whatever it is we’re doing, I don’t feel turned off by Joshie and I don’t feel the opposite. I just want to do brushstrokes with him and hear that even, even breathing. He has these old slippers that are perfectly arranged by his bed just so he can slip right into them first thing in the morning, but they’re too big for him. He waddles around like an old man in them. And that’s something I can fix. I can fix him. I’m so glad he can take criticism. First thing I HAVE to do is get him new slippers. I guess I’m like a lucky version of my mother with Joshie. Like Froid said, common unhappiness.

  Lenny. Will he ever forgive me?

  I feel like a recycling bin sometimes, with all these things passing through me from one person to another, love, hate, seduction, attraction, repulsion, all of it. I wish I were stronger and more secure in myself so that I could really spend my life with a guy like Lenny. Because he has a different kind of strength than Joshie. He has the strength of his sweet tuna arms. He has the strength of putting his nose in my hair and calling it home. He has the strength to cry when I go down on him. Who IS Lenny? Who DOES that? Who will ever open up to me like that again? No one. Because it’s too dangerous. Lenny is a dangerous man. Joshie is more powerful, but Lenny is much more dangerous.

  All I wanted to do was have my parents take complete responsibility for how fucked up I am. I wanted them to admit that they did wrong. But that doesn’t matter to me now.

  Common unhappiness, as the doctor said, but also common responsibility.

  I can’t just be an abused little girl anymore. I have to be stronger than my father, stronger than Sally, stronger than Mommy.

  I’m sorry, Lenny.

  I love you.

  EUNI-TARD TO GOLDMANN-FOREVER:

  It sounds like you’re one busy bee, sweetheart. I’m so turned on when you work so hard, Joshie. There’s nothing sexier than a hardworking man, that’s how I was brought up, and that part of my parents I am NOT ashamed of. So many emotions are going through me right now. It’s not just gratitude for what you’ve done for my family, it is a deep, deep love. Am I the New person drawn toward You? Yes, I am, Joshie. I sometimes see men and women who are beautiful on the street, but they’re beautiful in such an obvious Media way. And you’re the real thing. Don’t worry about the sex, darling. I’m not some sex monster. Holding you in my arms, taking a shower with you, scrubbing you HARD with a loofah, picking out stuff to wear, cuddling on the couch, making those fat-free blueberry pancakes, those are the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done with anyone. Just being in the same room with you is arousing. I miss you so much. You do NOT have old man arms. You’re much stronger than Lenny, and you have such soft, gorgeous lips. All I need you to do is keep your neck in good shape, because you are going to be going down there a lot! Hahaha.

  Re: my parents, I sometimes feel like I tell you too much. I know it’s my fault, I feel like I need to blab about them to everyone I love. Unloading about my life is like the only thing that keeps me from spending the day inside the refrigerator and adding to my FAT ass. I just wonder if I’m being fair to them and to you when I bring up what happened to me and Sally and my mom. There were good times too, you know. When I was in Tompkins Park right before the Rupture, my father asked me how I was. I know deep down inside he’s a good person, he’s just had a hard life is all and that makes me sad. Sometimes when I miss you, I feel sad the same way, like my whole life has been rushing toward you and I can’t wait for us to be together.

  Ugh, I was just watching a stream of this Jamaican guy who was be
ing deported from New York and he was crying and his whole family was in tears and he was telling his daughter that he’d be back and that it was best for them to stay in the city and be safe. I thought I was going to break down in tears too. Did I tell you I used to volunteer with trafficked Albanian women in Rome? I wish we didn’t have to deport anyone. And I can’t believe you said they’re going to clear out our co-op buildings. Lenny put so much money into this apartment and he’s got all these books. And what are they going to do with the old people? Where are they going to move them? They’ll die. Is there something you can do, sweetheart? Okay, Lenny’s coming back home right now. I can hear him huffing and puffing. I gotta run. Have a great weekend, Joshie. You’re all I think about, dream about. I trust you and need you so much. No one has ever been so wonderful to me.

  OCTOBER 21

  CHUNG.WON.PARK TO EUNI-TARD:

  Eunhee,

  Today we got application for Lao Wai passport thank to you! Mr. Shu even call us and tell us that it just formal application and we already guarantee to move New York. Daddy and me so proud of you. Smart daughter! We always know. Even in Catholic when you get good grade and then go Elderbird. Remember how art teacher in school praise your spatial skill and we think she say SPECIAL skill and we always wonder what it is? We saw your new friend Joshie Goldman, and he is very handsome for old man much younger look than Roommate Lenny. We are proud also you have such important friend. Lenny he is not able to help you. He is Russian. Maybe he is communist? All Russians in old time were communist before oil. But if you like older man we know in Toronto Mrs. Choi’s son who is 31, tall and very musheesuh and work good job in medical tool industry. Thank you Eunhee for thinking of your family. Please forgive you do not understand my English. God bless you always.

  Love,

  Mommy

  OCTOBER 22

  SALLYSTAR: I got the student visa. I don’t know what to say, Eunice, just that I love you. I know you’ll always have my back, and not just because you’re my older sister. You don’t want to hear this, but I pray for you every day. I pray that you’re happy and at peace with yourself. Remember how happy we were as kids when we’d get H-Mart ddok and mandoo after church? Remember how you’d stuff your face and cry later because you thought you gained weight?

  EUNI-TARD: You don’t have to thank me, Sally. I’m just glad you’re safe. I can’t believe you had to hide in the basement for a whole week. I can’t believe what happened to the Kim’s daughter, what’s her name?

  SALLYSTAR: I don’t think I want to talk about that right now.

  EUNI-TARD: I just feel guilty that I wasn’t there with you.

  SALLYSTAR: It’s the kind of thing that makes you focus. And now I know why I’m alive. For you and for Mommy and for Daddy. I’m going to be quiet, I’m not going to act out Politically, and I’m going to make sure that nothing like what happened to Sarah Kim is going to happen to any of us. You really are a “roll” model for me, Eunice, just like Mommy says.

  EUNI-TARD: Are you going back to Barnard?

  SALLYSTAR: They’re closing Barnard for the year, but that’s fine. I have to take more Mandarin and Norwegian classes all year long anyway.

  EUNI-TARD: You’ll do great, Sally. You can do anything you set your mind to.

  SALLYSTAR: What about you?

  EUNI-TARD: Huh?

  SALLYSTAR: What do you think you want to do next with your life?

  EUNI-TARD: I don’t know. Joshie can get me a great Retail job, but I might do art-finance college in London.

  SALLYSTAR: So things are pretty serious with him? Have you told Lenny yet?

  EUNI-TARD: No.

  SALLYSTAR: You shouldn’t lie to him anymore, Eunice. I never told you this but I think Lenny’s a very nice man, the one time I met him anyway. He really tried with Mom and Dad.

  EUNI-TARD: I know. You don’t have to tell me. But he’s not perfect. He only cares about me when I’m pissed at him. Anyway, I’m sure he’ll find another Korean girl, like the hundred he’s already dated. A real nomo cha-keh girl, not like me. Oh, and I saw some Images of his exes broke-ass faces. Lenny’s one of those white guys who can’t tell a good-looking Asian girl from an ugly one. We all look the same to them.

  SALLYSTAR: It’s none of my business, but I think you should be really kind to Lenny, even if you break up with him. You want to be fair to him.

  EUNI-TARD: I know, Sally. I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I CAN break up with him. I still love him. He’s just so clueless. My poor Leonardo Dabramovinci. He’s sitting next to me now and trimming his toenails, smiling at me for no good reason. I don’t know why, but I think that’s really sad when he smiles like that. And I get kind of angry too, that he can still have that kind of effect on me.

  OCTOBER 24

  GOLDMANN-FOREVER TO EUNI-TARD:

  Eunice, we have to talk. I know you love me, but sometimes you really don’t treat me well. One day you tell me I’m “the bestest boyfriend ever” and the next day you’re not sure, you want us to take some time off from each other, you want to relax things a little. And that makes me feel like I’m some kind of needy asshole, pushing you to tell Lenny about us, pushing you to move in with me, pushing you to take this relationship as seriously as I take it. You seem to get me confused with Joshie Goldmann the high-profile guy who’s trying to change the world and whom everyone worships. I’m a different man with you. I’m just a human being who’s in love and nothing more.

  I don’t like it when you make me feel guilty about all the old people who are going to be thrown out of Lenny’s buildings. That’s not my department, Eunice. I can help you with your parents and your sister, but I can’t exactly keep over a hundred unneeded people in New York. The IMF calls the tune now. I think I’ve done about all I can for them over the last months, sending down food and water.

  Look, I know I’m asking you to take enormous steps, and I know Lenny represents a kind of “emotional” safety net, and that’s why you’re sticking up for him. But don’t forget that I’m ultimately the one that can assure your safety. And I know that Lenny pursued you in this ridiculous overbearing way and I don’t want to repeat that mistake. Though I may not act it sometimes, let’s not forget that I’m seventy. And one thing I can tell you from my experience, Eunice, is that you’ll only get one youth. And you better spend it with someone who can maximize it for you, who can make you feel good and cared for and loved and, in the long run, someone who won’t die a long time before you, like Lenny will. (Statistically, given that he’s a Russian male and you’re an Asian female, he’ll be gone about twenty years before you.)

  Am I scared of how fast things are going with us? You better believe it! I look at us in the mirror sometimes and I can’t believe who I am. Every week we come closer together, and then every week you do something to make me feel like I’m not deserving of you. You push me away. Why? Is it just in your nature to be cruel to men? Then maybe you can change that part of your nature before it’s too late.

  I think about you all the time, Eunice. Sometimes you’re the only thing in this world that still makes sense to me. Now YOU have to start thinking of ME. I’m up here on the good old Upper West Side, thumping my chest and making sad ape sounds and dreaming of the day when you will treat me the way I deserve to be treated. We’ve got many years ahead of us, my sweet bumblebee. Let’s not waste a moment of precious time. Sogni d’oro, as you like to say. Golden dreams to you.

  FOREVER YOUNG

  FROM THE DIARIES OF LENNY ABRAMOV

  NOVEMBER 10

  Dear Diary,

  Today I’ve made a major decision: I am going to die.

  Nothing of my personality will remain. The light switch will be turned off. My life, my entirety, will be lost forever. I will be nullified. And what will be left? Floating through the ether, tickling the empty belly of space, alighting over farms outside Cape Town, and crashing into an aurora above Hammerfest, Norway, the northernmost city of this shattered planet—my data, the so
upy base of my existence uptexted to a GlobalTeens account. Words, words, words.

  You, dear diary.

  This will be my last entry.

  A month ago, mid-October, a gust of autumnal wind kicked its way down Grand Street. A co-op woman, old, tired, Jewish, fake drops of jade spread across the little sacks of her bosom, looked up at the pending wind and said one word: “Blustery.” Just one word, a word meaning no more than “a period of time characterized by strong winds,” but it caught me unaware, it reminded me of how language was once used, its precision and simplicity, its capacity for recall. Not cold, not chilly, blustery. A hundred other blustery days appeared before me, my young mother in a faux-fur coat standing before our Chevrolet Malibu Classic, her hands protectively over my ears because my defective ski hat couldn’t be pulled down to cover them, while my father cursed and fumbled with his car keys. The streams of her worried breath against my face, the excitement of feeling both cold and protected, exposed to the elements and loved at the same time.

  “It is blustery, ma’am,” I said to the old co-op woman. “I can feel it in my bones.” And she smiled at me with whatever facial muscles she still had in reserve. We were communicating with words.