Play the Man: Post 19

Chapter Twelve: Anti-climax

Last post, and last chapter, we left Nick and Jenna staring at the ceiling, pondering what they’d just done, when suddenly they hear the front door open and know that it’s Ryan. So naturally we start chapter 12 with Ryan drinking beer.

I imagine you’re confused. I know I was. The entire rest of the book up until this point (77 pages in out of 165) has been completely linear. Perspectives have jumped awkwardly, but other than the occasional flashback (in chapter 1), scenes have always followed chronologically. However, this time the narrative takes us back to when Nick and Jenna have just left for the Art Institute and Ryan has gone out drinking and eating with Alex.

As per usual, they’re complaining about Jenna. Ryan points out that Jenna is still angry at him because of Alex’s calling her “Gollum.” Alex argues that that’s insane since Jenna should be mad at him for the comment, not Ryan. Both of them completely miss the point.

But it does mean that Ryan has started actually contemplating the situation, since Jenna has barely spoken to him in the four days since the “Gollum Incident” and he wants the relationship to be the way it used to be (77). Sure, who doesn’t want a relationship where the other partner takes care of you, never insists on anything, and everything is comfortable? At any rate, Ryan declares that this distance between them makes him want to fix whatever the problem is. However, he’s still a jerk.

He was willing to overlook how he felt Jenna needed to apologize for trying to guilt him into appeasing her… (77).

Gee. How magnanimous. It takes him a few more pages to decide that he needs to head back home and figure out what’s actually wrong and make it right. I’d tell you more about those pages but they’re repetitious. And besides, we all want to see what happens when Ryan gets home and discovers his fiancé with his teammate, right?

When they hear Ryan, Jenna and Nick burst into action, with Nick running to the guest room and Jenna putting on a robe. That’s the most amount of action we’ll see, however, since then Jenna spends many paragraphs contemplating how she could have made such a choice as to sleep with Nick, how Nick makes her feel wanted and connected, how much she hates herself for cheating on Ryan, and how weak she must be.

So, Ryan doesn’t catch them in the act. However, apparently he can smell sex in the air. Jenna assumes, at first, that he knows she’s slept with Nick, but it turns out that Ryan just assumes that Jenna pleasured herself. This leads to a rather convoluted twist of logic for him.

But she was obviously feeling lonely and horny, and she took matters into her own hands, literally, and got herself off instead of caving and giving into [sic] him. Instead of letting their fight slide, she tried to pretend that she didn’t need Ryan and keep up the appearance that she was okay without him. But she wasn’t; she had needs that she needed him to fulfill. That meant that Jenna’s anger was wavering and faltering, and this frustrating battle of wills was going to end (80).

Ryan has quite a few mistakes here, in my opinion. First, even if he’s right that Jenna is just horny, why would she “need” him to satisfy her? He’s assuming that she masturbated—intercourse and masturbation aren’t the same thing, of course, but Ryan’s the one who assumes she’s taken care of matters, which indicates she doesn’t, in fact, need him. From this assumption that Jenna needs sex, specifically from him, he jumps to concluding that she needs sex (from him) so badly that she’ll forgive him now. But this doesn’t really follow.

Jenna wavers back and forth about whether to confess to him once she realizes that he doesn’t know what happened.

She was afraid of what he was going to do, to her or to Nick (80).

This sounds violent. Does Jenna think that Ryan will hurt her or Nick if he finds out what happened? Sure, he’d have every right to be incredibly angry, but in my opinion, if you fear for your safety from your partner, even under unusual circumstances, there’s something wrong.

Nick’s reasoning isn’t much better than that of the unhappy couple. First, he worries that Jenna might think he’d taken advantage of her. Then, a page later, he compares Jenna to a drug addict, because she “repeatedly hurt herself by making the wrong choices” and knowing that she’d be better off without Ryan. In fact, he declares that having sex with her “was Nick’s intervention,” that he was showing her an alternative (81).

Oh Nick, you disappoint me. Really? REALLY? Intervention? Do you even like Jenna?

Nick finally decides that he needs to tell Ryan what happened and face him “like a man”, in order to prove that he’s the man Jenna deserves, no matter what reaction (81).

With one deep breath he grabbed the doorknob and opened the portal into his unknown and uncertain future (82).

Apparently Nick has been visiting the Department of Redundancy Department. Unknown AND uncertain?

He runs into Jenna who convinces him not to tell Ryan, at least for now. Then the point of view changes again and Ryan returns and gives Jenna his guest list. Because apparently that’s what he’s taken to be the big problem. Methinks Ryan is missing the forest for the trees and also, what have I said multiple times? Oh right, too little, too late. And for once, Jenna seems to agree. She doesn’t fall into his arms gratefully. Instead, the chapter ends with her still confused as to whether she wants to tell him the truth, whether she wants to marry him, and what the guilt of her actions might mean. (Which means 90 more pages of wibbling before she and Nick get together, I assume.)

Play the Man: Post 15

Chapter Ten: I Never Expected to Use the Academia Tag So Often

To Ryan’s credit, he doesn’t shirk his duty or complain when it’s his turn to awaken Nick. The patient, however, at first thinks it’s Jenna who’s come to wake him and invites the intruder into his bed. Sorry slash-fans, his response when he realizes it’s Ryan is “Ew, you’re fucking gross, Biggie. What the hell are you doing here?” because he’s forgotten again that he’s not in his own apartment (64).

Ryan suggests they play cards but changes his tune when Nick says he’d been playing strip poker with Jenna. Instead, they go and play Call of Duty on the Xbox. No, no, no, no, no. That’s a TERRIBLE idea for someone with a concussion. Dammit, that would be the last thing any decent doctor would allow. Gah.

Before, however, they can adjourn to the living room and the tv, Ryan insists that Nick put on pants because there’s no way he’ll allow nearly-naked Nick to sit on his couch. Weird.

This is more or less a throwaway scene that lets Ryan know that Nick has a lady friend of some sort (he assumes this when Nick is mostly out of it and suggesting that someone (Jenna) get in bed.)

The next morning, Jenna gets up as usual and does all her morning chores, including making breakfast, but “[t]oday, she had two growing boys to feed” (65). Could that be any more disgustingly motherly? The mothering imagery continues in the narratives description of what Jenna will be doing that day, instead of her usual Thursday activities.

She was supposed to keep an eye on [Nick]; it was going to be perfect practice for when there were kids roaming underfoot (65).

Which would be fine if Nick weren’t being set up to be her romantic partner. I’m all for being motherly if that’s what floats your boat, but to mother your fiancé is kinda gross, particularly since she’s expected to cook for them.

Ryan takes exception to the fact that Jenna cooked both bacon and sausage, since she doesn’t normally on a weekday and says he’d rather she was cooking it for him instead of Nick. Good grief, dude. She already cooks all your meals, gets your groceries, cleans the house, goes to all of your home games, and works with the Blackhawks charity events. You’re miffed because she cooked a little extra since you have an injured houseguest who is also your teammate? I cannot stand this guy.

And my hatred of Ryan gets stronger when Jenna goes through the mail and finds a notice about the Art Institute featuring a borrowed Caravaggio painting. (I’ll have more to say about that in a moment). Jenna asks Ryan to take her to see it, suggesting that they make an evening of it since they spend so little time together. His response?

He groaned. “You know I don’t like art, babe.” … “It’s art. You know I don’t get it” (66 emphasis original).

She’s not even suggesting that they roam the halls of the museum together—she wants to see one single painting and have dinner out. When she points out that she’s supportive of him and that she’s “not asking [him] to… even pretend to care” (66 emphasis original), he accuses her of guilting him into going.

I don’t condone violence in real life. In fiction, however, I hope someone slams Ryan’s head into the ice next game.

Ryan won’t talk about art, but for a moment I will. Well, sort of. First, I think it’s very odd that Jenna finds out about this exhibition of the Caravaggio through the mail since it’s occurring at the very place she goes to graduate school. I’d be shocked if one of her professors didn’t mention it in the classroom or she didn’t hear it from a classmate. And if she didn’t, I’d be triply shocked that she didn’t get an email about the exhibit, something mass-mailed to all the students. Getting the notice in the mail is a convenient way to shoehorn the information into the story at the right time for Jenna to bring it up with Ryan, but it was hardly necessary and not very likely.

Second, upon getting the notice, the narrative explores Jenna’s reaction.

Although she was focusing her studies on more modern art, she loved the Baroque period as well. This was a great opportunity, and she had to go (66 emphasis original).

My last art history class was more than a decade ago, I must admit. But I’m dreadfully confused by the above. The Baroque period started around 1600 in Italy, which I’d say is still broadly considered the Renaissance, or just after. (The Renaissance, of course, didn’t start one day and all of Europe flowered.) Jenna’s comment that she’s focusing on more modern art doesn’t necessarily mean modern art, just something more modern than Baroque, which, fair enough. But 40 pages earlier, as she had lunch with Ryan before he went off to play the Oilers, and he barely listened to her, she said the following.

“…I’m so excited for this semester’s class. Surrealism is so much fun. I mean, it’s not my favorite art movement, I appreciate the realism of Renaissance so much more, but still, I can’t wait. Picasso! Miro! Chagall! Oh, you know how much I love Chagall” (24).

I find it very odd that in the above passage she’s contrasting surrealism (not her favorite movement) to the Renaissance; she doesn’t say that *is* her favorite, but it’s suggested. Yet now Jenna is saying she’s actually focusing on more modern art. Perhaps someone with more art history experience than I can chime in about whether I’m right to find this weird. Baroque is certainly distinct from Renaissance (in some ways), but the latter is not more modern. I suppose it’s possible the author meant that Jenna is focusing on more modern art (ie surrealism) *this semester* but that’s not at all how graduate students talk about their work.

Anyway, the “pressure” from his fiancée wanting him to go out with her to see a single painting and then have dinner is too much for Ryan and he storms out of the house to go to practice, leaving Jenna, Nick, and way too much food.

Play the Man: Post 12

Chapter Seven: The Cracks are Beginning to Show

Frankly, the book could have begun with this chapter and we would have gotten everything we needed to know about the dysfunction in this couple. Between their regular stress (NHL season for Ryan and grad school for Jenna) with the addition of wedding planning, the two are fighting all of the time. Immediately after telling people that they’ve set a date, both their mothers begin to pressure Jenna to plan more things. Which, to be fair, there are things that need to be planned in advance, like choosing a location and booking hotel rooms. But since they can’t make those plans until they have a guest list, and Ryan keeps adding to the guest list, those decisions can’t be made.

The two of them are placing entirely different values on the wedding. To Jenna, it’s important because it’s the start of the rest of their lives. To Ryan, she’s confusing the wedding with the important stuff, although he does not clarify what he does consider important. He says it’s just another day and how could it be more important than any other day.

They argue constantly and it usually ends with someone storming out. In Jenna’s case, she meets up with Katie, “her only friend who existed outside of Ryan’s hockey world” (50). I find that troubling, since she ought to have been able to meet people in her classes and through the Art Institute. Far more troubling, however, is that the narrative points out that this “friend” Katie doesn’t know that Ryan is a Blackhawk. That… seems like a major point of information that eventually a friend is going to need to know. I can understand Jenna not telling everyone immediately, but she met Katie in her classes, to which she’s been going for three years. Even if she didn’t meet Katie until the most recent semester, Katie is spending enough time with Jenna that she’s the only one to whom Jenna can go when she’s upset about Ryan’s behavior. And she’s going to be attending the wedding—Jenna even plans to set her up with one of the other players. They’re pretty close, in other words, and by this point I think it’s insulting to Katie that Jenna hasn’t told her what her fiancé does.

Then again, I have no idea what Jenna has told Katie, since the latter is convinced that as a couple the two of them are one in a million, although she’s never met Ryan. Still, as a plot device Katie is useful. The two of them chat long enough for Jenna to try to convince herself that Ryan makes her happy.

“…I don’t want anything that Ryan can’t give me. I want what Ryan gives me to be enough.”

… “If what he gives you isn’t enough, Jenna, then he can’t give to you what you want him to. Maybe it’s a good thing you realized this now before it’s too late” (51).

Yes, yes, yes.  Listen to Katie, Jenna. Listen to the words of wisdom. But before she can, the narration switches to Ryan. Whenever Jenna storms out, Ryan works out.

The extra workouts were helping his game, because Ryan began to lead the team in goal production—he wasn’t just the captain, he had become the best player on the team (52).

I won’t disagree that working out off-ice is helpful for on-ice strength, stamina, and speed. But I can’t see how cycling or weight lifting by itself helps someone to become the top scorer. I mean, it can be related. If you have more stamina, you’ll get more ice time, and if you use the ice time productively, you can get more shots on goal. But there is no way strength training is going to lead directly to more goals.

Along with more workouts, Ryan is also going out with the guys more, and Jenna has begun to start refusing to join him. When asked about Jenna’s continued absence, Nick admits to his teammates that his fiancée may have become sick of him.

“Wait. What?” Nick asked. He was torn between the concern for his teammate and the glimmer of hope that he immediately cursed himself for having (52).

He goes on in this vein for a while—insisting that Ryan and Jenna love each other, even if Nick could love her better. Not to mention, he puts it in terms of hockey, that if Ryan was upset his production would suffer. While he’s probably right, that’s a relatively unfeeling way of looking at this possibility. For all of Nick’s valuation of Jenna as an actual person and not as an accessory, he still values hockey beyond all else.

Ryan isn’t too worried about Jenna leaving him, however. As far as he’s concerned, she’s just turned into a Bridezilla and everything will be fine after the wedding. The thing is, her asking for a little bit of input and decision making about things as basic as the guest list is hardly being a Bridezilla.

I know I’ve said “I hate this couple” any number of times already, but seriously I see no value to this relationship and therefore no tension in Jenna leaving it for Nick. None. Zero.