THE ONE WHO DOES IT AND THE ONE WHO TELLS YOU

Actually, I don't want to know.

I recently read Heartburn by Nora Efron, one of those essential contemporary novels that somehow got away from me until now. If you haven’t read it, it’s great and so late -70s/early-‘80s in the best possible way. (There’s a scene where the protagonist is pregnant and drinking Bellinis, plural, with her friends, and then the doctor calls to tell her she’s having a boy, and they all drink to the baby! Wild!) Anyway, I really enjoyed this book and like probably everyone else who’s read it, I feel like I might actually try making the infamous salad dressing or the Chez Helene bread pudding with “hard sauce” (what is that?) or the giant Swiss potato pancake. But the part of the book that stuck with me, for personal reasons, was this sentence: “I think it takes two people to hurt you. The one who does it and the one who tells you.”

Nora Efron, looking the other way

This is a sentiment expressed by our heroine, Rachel, in a scene where she’s having lunch with her friend Marie, who tells her that she’s seen Mark, Rachel’s husband, canoodling with another woman. Rachel is obviously shook by her husband’s betrayal, but here’s the thing— she’s also annoyed with Marie. Because before Marie chose to share this information, Rachel’s life (or her perception thereof) was fine. “Of course, we could talk for days about why Marie told me,” Rachel narrates to us afterwards. “I’m glad she told me— it saved me from finding out at a later time— but still, you have to wonder.”

You have to wonder. I feel like this sentiment, like the Bellini scene, probably feels outdated to a lot of modern readers. Because today we live in a culture where it’s seen not only as an expectation, but a moral imperative, to let someone know if they’ve got a knife in their back. Women, in particular, are expected to be vigilantes on each other’s behalf. We’ve all seen those viral TikToks where a girl says something like, “Attention ladies! If you are engaged to a man named Tristan who had his bachelor party in Nashville this weekend, you need to know that he was grinding on women at Whisky Row! Let’s make sure this gets back to the bride!” I think the intention behind these videos is generally pure. And like Rachel admits in Heartburn, it’s probably best to know. But in real life, when someone is compelled— nay, eager— to let me know I’ve been a victim of subterfuge, I question their intentions. Just like Rachel with her friend Marie. Is that weird?

Years ago, when I was newly successful as a screenwriter, I reunited with a friend from my hometown. We were catching up on the usual bullshit, and she said (excitedly?) “Brook, you need to know that some people back home are talking shit about you. They’re not happy for your success.” I replied, “Aw, that sucks. Well, I can’t blame them. I’m a champion shit-talker myself.” She seemed disappointed by this, and pressed further. “But these are people you consider friends.” I didn’t take the bait. “Then I must have done something to piss them off. Oh well.” Frustrated, she said, “Don’t you want to know who I’m talking about!? And what they said?” I responded, “There’s no reason for me to know.” Because there wasn’t! Why add more grudges and resentments to the stockpile? I came away from this interaction more annoyed with my friend than I would have been with whatever salty ex-classmate she revealed to be the backstabber. I don’t think she wanted me to know because of concern about me. I suspect she wanted to flash the currency of information or even inflict secondhand injury. (Also, I’m kind of an asshole so I’m sure whatever opinions were being voiced about me were valid. Who am I to obstruct justice?)

Recently though, I knew for a fact that someone was trying to hurt me with “intel.” It was a shit-talking situation again, and the informant’s motive was super transparent. They clearly wanted to me to dislike a person that they disliked, and their way of accomplishing this was to point me to a mean tweet that that person had made about me. I thought this was really immature and I didn’t respond kindly. I straight up said, “You are cruel for showing this to me.” The accused disagreed. “Why are you mad at me for something someone else said? I’m just letting you know that you shouldn’t like or support them!” (BTW, I realize how totally seventh grade this all sounds— welcome to Hollywood.) I stand by my annoyance here. As a brother/sister duo once sang in the best alt-rock single of 1999, don’t steal my sunshine!

I guess one of my toxic traits is that I’m a “shoot the messenger” type in general. I actually felt irritated with my OB/GYN last week when she told me I have high blood pressure. Like, why can’t she just let me have a major cardiac event? I was doing fine, but now I have to lay off the Nachos BellGrande®! Obviously this was totally irrational and I need to be informed about my health. So maybe my desire to avoid knowing when I’ve been dragged or hoodwinked is just a facet of my avoidant personality. I don’t read reviews of my work, I don’t Google my partner’s exes to see what they look like, I tend to dodge any information that could rock my already fragile ego. I just have too much shit to do, Jenny! I’m too busy to stew!

Is anyone else like this, or am I crazy?