PORTFOLIO - Donigan Cumming
February 15, 1972
Dr. Fleury was not very encouraging nor does he inspire much confidence. My "Oedema gravis" is over but my right side of the face is in trouble - I felt a small lump in the jaw. Hot again! I cannot sleep.
Laura does not know how I much I miss her.
February 17. 1972
Laura and I have "differences." Too many. If two people agree that a certain course of action is beneficiary but one opposes it by action, then something is not right. Suppose further, that the "opposing" number persists in his sabotage and continues to acknowledge the necessity for proper action, then his or her behaviour is ambivalent and leads the partner to question himself: is she doing it to antagonize me or is she doing it because of her incapability to act otherwise?
February 21, 1972
This is the end. Last Friday Laura arrived from Toronto and told me that she favours a "Temporary Separation." I'm mortified. There is something in me which destroys whatever I have including myself. I have mistreated her with verbal abuse for quite a time. My jealously caused much of it. What can I do to regain her? She has lost her patience. It's a disaster. I do not like it at all - my God it's terrible. She ended me and all there is between us. The alienation is complete. True, one can always start again - to end up in the same fashion. I'm tired of it.
Tired to death.
02:00
February 22. 1972
She's gone again. I do not know, it seems to me that she hesitates, but she is getting an apartment downtown on Monday. Is the end postponed? She stalls for time perhaps. What am I to do in the meantime? Wait till June I suppose. We wait and wait and again wait. She has been pushed too far, too far. too far. I happened to find an old note from her, announcing that she would be away for a few days, "till we calm down and see where do we go from here". Who knows when was it written. How many times has she warned me?
March 1, 1972
I tried desperately to salvage the situation. Nothing doing. Yesterday a lease was signed for 3 months. Dreary place. I prefer walking out. Here. I am incapable of action. There...
It's the end I think, A very bitter end; a bad taste in my mouth.
March 2. 1972
It's done. I'm transferred. New place alone. Terrible. She wants me to celebrate her birthday tomorrow. It's weird. I begin to think she is sincere in her belief that a reconciliation is possible. Anyhow there is nothing else to do but wait.
I'm lonely and bedazzled.
03:36
March 3. 1972
Laura wanted to celebrate her birthday with me; it was a fiasco; She was tired. I very depressed. I still am.
March 4. 1972
The readjustment to solitary life is painful. I cannot sleep. It's past midnight. I went out 3 times - the feeling of being alone is overwhelming.
This morning I called Annette. She was extremely sympa-
thetic.
March 7, 1972
This charade must stop. I have to start my work very seriously.
March 8, 1972
I have fears of dying. I am mostly afraid of protracted disease in hospital where the smells presage stench - putrefaction.
Cancer - the ultimate of growth.
04:45
March 9 and 10. 1972
I cannot sleep. It's terrible - a frustrating day like many others. Laura is in Ouebec (is she?). I went to Grosvenor; could not stand it: it felt like some stranger's place. Met some fellow derelicts, one sane. We exchanged some ideas on death. Death indeed comes slowly. Every day a little bit.
March 16. 1972
The exams are scheduled for the 2nd of May - the dental operation for the 27th of April.
Second male voice - I have three pieces of dental work from Harry's mouth: two gold crowns and a porcelain tooth on a post. They're very heavy: pieces of cement and what appear to be bits of tooth enamel still cling to them. Were they actually Harry's? When I began tak- ing care of his apartment they were on a glass shelf in the bathroom cabinet. They remained right there even after the place had been cleared and the cabinet emptied of everything else. So I took them, I keep them and I'm looking at them now.
Yesterday. Laura met me at the Bistro where I introduced her to the biggest fucker in town. She behaved miserably, not paying the slightest attention to me. We dragged on till 4 in the morning. The last blow was of course her refusal to let me sleep at Grosvenor. Really disgusting.
March 18. 1972
Yesterday I called. We decided to go out. She promised to do so. We met at the Bistro, she changed her mind, wanted me to leave. I refused, she left: stupid, and very mean. I detect a line of action there.
March 19. 1972
The whole thing is really fucked up. She wants her total freedom: freedom to come and go as she pleases. Fine? Why am I reluctant to accept reality? What am I fighting for? For a lasting friendship? But is there any friendship left? What goes in her mind?
07:15
March 22, 1972
My tooth was operated. Annette called about 5pm; "my wife" has not yet. Hate that place - the Bistro - and its cronies. Yesterday I could not stand it. I went there and spent 2-3 empty hours. Laura, this woman, must have tasted the delights of love with some stud; she has grown steadily colder during the week. I'm convinced of her intentions - she wants to get rid of me. I will not call her on the phone. I will stick to my PROPOSITION.
07:55
March 23, 1972
I met Julie - a wonderful woman - will she call me? And if so what? A. called while I was out. She said: "Life is complicated." She must be loving me. Do I? Oh my! At 39. behaving like a schoolboy again!
Monday, March 27. 1972
There is incontrovertible evidence that my beloved Laura has slept with somebody - it must be McKenzie - a good man but somehow a clod.
Wednesday. March 29. 1972
Laura just called - I congratulated her on making the grade. She was very upset, not that I may be upset, but because her reputation is being damaged. She is also con- cerned that Suzanne Mckenzie's friend might discover what I know. "Criminals" are always careless. I was trembling before I saw her.
09:04
April 7, 1972
Last Sunday in despair I called her at the Americana Hotel where she has been for a week. At six o'clock in the morn- ing she cried and said the word - SEPARATION for a year! Baloney, it's the end.
How do I feel? How does she? Who knows "I cannot live with you anymore."
Nothing with Annette. I'm confused. I do not enjoy sex with her but I like her quite a bit. She is too slim for me. I'm afraid.
09:42
May 7. 1972
Percy has been hit by a car! So she says. Poor friend I am going to pieces - my little fellow, the little companion - the dear Percy. I have not expressed my grief. The idea of the poor beast suffering. I hope. I do hope he gets by. My little dear friend, oh that's a real blow to me. poor lit- tle Percy. I trembled over him. I do love that animal. The very thought is awful. I found some dried blood in the dining room. I could not believe that! but it must be his.
10:36
May 8. 1972
This morning I called the doctor and got the story. Percy is being operated - his femur has been fractured. Annette took me to the hospital; she was good with me. Percy is in another section.
September 19, 1972
Dear Laura.
Yesterday we met on Sherbrooke St. Symbolically, you were on one side of Mountain St. I on the other. The street light seemed longer and thoughts crossed my mind...it's significant that you forgot the cigarettes; it's unimpor- tant but characteristic, it's significant that I lost my temper yesternight: Laura whether you realize it or not the separation has hurt me: not that much the separation but the idea of having spent 9 years of my life trying to do the impossible: live in the atmosphere of serenity and sincerity; you were the supposed partner.
Of course I D0 NOT want your financial help for an apart- ment. I'm used to displacements: that's what I've been doing for the last 25 years.
Of course you do not ever want to know about me: it was important for me to be visited in Egypt, in "my" place just to see how I was. But you have and had other preoccupations. That's all Right.
Everything is, if it is.
Harry Strong
P.S. This is my last note of the kind.
P.S. 2 This station will not transmit any longer.
12:54
February 11. 1977
13:00
I remember because I grew up remembering. My grandfather used to say I remember when you were little and your hair was all curly - like Shirley Temple. And my mother said remember to clean your dish and my father said remember to finish your homework before you play with Emile, Linette and Collette. I remember that Linette and Collette were killed in the San Vittore prison in October 1943. I do remember but not too much. And. God knows. I do not live in the past, as many of my North American friends say. I live tn the present, but not here and now.
I remember Giuseppe, who sat with me on the school desk and we struggled with our first existence problem in mathematics and he said: Existence! in Poland I spent six months in a furnace - to hide from the SS! Then we went to play ping-pong for 3 hours. Then I understood that if anything "exists" it is life! And I stopped thinking about Freud who interpreted dreams and threw away the Psychology of Success by some Atkinson or other. And I remember. Georges Armir who in 1947 was 26 but had white hair and looked older than that. Anna Maria said do not speak to him about Stalingrad but I did. Did the Red Army torture him? No he said the steppe did: it tortures the Russian too. I did not ask any more because I remembered that terrible Sunday noon in January 1944 when I ran out of my sick bed because the noise was so terrifying and the shrieking of the howitzers so terribly terribly awesome.
Yes! War is terrible! But then again when I screamed and tried to convince the crowd in Rockefeller Plaza that a bombing of Hanoi must be a terrible experience, they took me aside and thought I had a fit of madness.
15:10
May 8. 1977
Another empty weekend - V-Day Europe is approaching. It's Donna's birthday - I do not wish to call her. What for!
The truth is that my state of inertia is caused by a deep feeling of insufficiency. Worse even, at the age of 45, all my expectations have failed.
15:24
Second male voice - He had little more than ten years to go. He died around 4:00 p.m. on October 30. 1987 at the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal, from pancreatic cancer.
Sunday night, March 11, 1979
I just got my letters back from Donna - this should put a true end to our relation - forever and for good - I do not wish to see her anymore I hope to stick to it. She seemed a bit shocked - so was I. My parting words were: ...you offended me too much not by what you did, that much, but by what you said and then I added... do not consider me a friend... It's over.
She said she understands my animosity. She has been very understanding throughout. Indeed. I was alone with her and I am alone without her. No change whatsoever.
I feel empty. A strange feeling of relief - a bit like dying - the same feeling that I had with Ophra in 1953-4 and with Ethel in 1957-8.
Same night, March 11. 1979
Jacques Brel sings a song about soldiers.
The temperature is dropping every minute - I am restless and so should be.
Second male voice - The last time I saw him was on the evening of October 29. He was very close to death and probably didn't know I was there. I tried to speak to him through his coma. I said. "Everything has been taken care of. Harry." After all. he had a will, thanks to me. and soon I would find this diary as Ed and I tore through the belongings in his apartment house locker. I wept in the car.
Monday March 12, 1979
Strange feeling of relief continues, I think of her but at a distance.
When will she disappear from my mind? Today I decided to write an article on Israel. It is high time.
Strange I do not have much to report - it is the quiet after the storm.
March 14. 1979
18:05
Yesterday I met Donna on St. Catherine I had to nod to her - and she did. I feel lonely and repetitious - I wish I were more active. Age I guess creeps in on me; I am quite obsessed with it.
Second mâle voice - When Harry started to die he began to lose the weight he'd picked up and carried on from somewhere in his thirties. It wasn't much - 25 lbs approx... without a functioning pancreas eating becamea problem... the stomach pains such shit you know... goddamit he went into the hospital in May... he was frightened.... the weight was falling off... the doctors started their tests their biopsies... nothing nothing nothing but he felt bad and he was the dear Percy. I have not expressed my grief. The idea of scared... it was coming true... the usual fears... the poor beast suffering. I hope. I do hope he gets by. My cancer VD mental collapse etc. when they went for his gall bladder he panicked in recovery, pulled all the tubes, tried to escape... screamed for his contacts in the military to save him... to be informed of his condition... it was always grey in that room like always... he had visitors... he had me... he certainly had me... I began to do the mail. the money... to check the apartment... he was his difficult self and he was frightened... how did I get as involved?... and he let me... there were others... I didn't like 'em. They were strange broken odd half - people from the cégeps - his colleagues? It made me furious to be around them... especially the women the ones Harry always drew... They all seemed so useless their grief so misplaced almost impractical... it was for them... and Harry seemed to demand that they calm him always... I didn't want to calm him like that... the drug doctor was best at it... a marvel at it... "where is your pain so I can take it away... tell me does it hurt there... we should all take lessons... Harry resisted death in a way I don't understand... it was frightened of course and demanding but sentimental and soft and full of complaint... his women were so drawn and so should I be. to it... they encouraged it... and in the end they really weren't there for the practical things... their lives suddenly intervene d away from the sick-bed...they did a sort of theatre for the hospital... it didn't really seem for Harry at all. Several times I went to his apartment and took photographs... I did take photographs... his shoes, his mattress, his sock and underwear, the picture of his mother and father.. I went through things... I was frightening... Harry felt it... they all felt it... the doctors thought I was some other doctor... I don't understand why I am this way... I wish he had not died... I wish I knew something... I loved the fucker... and I remain so curious.
I have to find some way out. We must find a way out. I met tonight the ex: girl friend of Earle Counter: has she aged! She looks so worn out. She is my age, or a year or two older.
Issue orders: operation survival must start.
March 15. 1979
21:56
I hate the woman and would like to hurt her very bad.
March 16. 1979
First attempt to socialize - Tommy took me to the univer- sity club - I met some women. They were kind to me. 1 am a bit out of 1t though. Poor Tommy she is in such poor shape: talks about liberation and about a good fuck with some animal! It 1s really pathetic.
Order of battle:
1st motorized to launch an attack in the sector of Vieux Montreal.
No stopping for casualties.
Saturday. March 17, 1979
I saw Donna getting into her car and a man next to her. It was devastating, especially when I remember that last night at about 1:30 when I came back I saw her lights out.
Second mâle voice - Harry lived in the apartment block called "Shady Nook" on Souvenir Street, across the street from my house and four houses east of Donna's flat. His apartment was on the second floor overlooking the street.
It is so strange how that sight affected me. I am still shaken. The idea that she sleeps with others infuriates me. I have to get over It.
23:19
March 18. 1979
The sight of Donna entering her car and a man sitting next to her drives me to a state of complete obsession. I imagine her making love to the chap. Despite the fact that I rejected her, I am still hurt by the idea. I'm incapable of coherent thought. That image as well as she must be forgotten. Somehow the remembrances persist and irritate me beyond logic and comprehension. I stop thinking for a few seconds and then the images return. That woman, that woman, that damnable whore! I curse her. The whole day has been a continuous restlessness. In and out and in again. Very upset indeed.
24:06
23:00 hrs
She has come back and now the gnawing question is: Is she alone?
Why is my life still dominated by that woman?
24:19
Possible scenarios:
She has spent the weekend with someone. 1 doubt that she has been in her country house - I called twice. She must have gone some distance. The car is very dirty.
Saturday at noon (rather at about 1 pm) she left accompanied by somebody: there were clothes suspended on a hanger - this is not her habit. If she left yesterday and came back today she may have gone with Merrill - to Lachute perhaps? I do not know with whom she left - she did not have a car. She is not calling me and I'm sure she will never call me again.
Sans titres, tous extraits de la série Le Journal de Harry, épreuves argentiques.
© Donigan Cumming
Question: Why am I so obsessed with her?
23:30 hrs: Again very restless - I went out to eat and noticed that she is not at home. Is it possible that she has a lover in Montreal?! Yes it is.
I wonder what kind of a person he is. If he is the same one I saw Saturday - he reminded me of Merrill. Strange I get more and more tense. Good God! Why can I not obliter- ate her from my memory?
September 6. 1981
After many a month of hesitation and debate I got the apartment in August. It is strange but I feel better in these surroundings - despite the fact I sneer at the entrance.
Second male voice - Harry was appalled. So many people lived like pigs. But his own efforts at a Spartan lifestyle sometimes depressed him. He sensed a failure of spirit. For instance, the photographs I took in January '74 in his room on Durocher Street depressed him. Before he saw them he had been gleefully proud of the way he had pared back to the "essentials". He me. I have to get over It. encouraged me to take a few shots to prove his point. Nothing turned out as he had imagined. I could have told him that.
Now Anne has been nearly 3 WEEKS with me - that makes life easier. I must be careful with the girl, most of all I must avoid...
26:43
· CV27 · Wednesday, 01 June 1994 00:00
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