Miss Lonely Hearts

One of my favorite movies of all time is Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window. For those of you who haven’t seen it, Jimmy Stewart plays photographer L.B. Jeffries, who takes up voyeurism when a broken leg confines him to a wheelchair in his New York City apartment. He passes the time gazing out the window onto the courtyard of his apartment complex–and into the windows of his various neighbors on the other side of the courtyard, including a man he suspects of murdering his wife. But of all the lives he peers into, perhaps the most heart-wrenching plight of all is that of a woman Jeffries dubs "Miss Lonely Hearts," a "spinster" who appears to be well into her 30s (you’re usually watching her from a distance along with Jeffries). MLH doesn’t appear to be a bad-looking woman but certainly a sharp contrast to her neighbor a floor above–a young blonde, scantily-clad dancer who has men gawking at her and literally banging down her door.

One night, Jeffries spies MLH preparing for what appears to be a romantic dinner for two. She is all dressed up, preparing a lavish meal with the dining room table elegantly set for two. She even pours wine for herself and her "companion." As we wait to lay eyes on the man that will appear at MLH’s door to join her for this perfectly orchestrated evening, she sits down and proceeds to eat and sip her wine and bat her eyelashes at the empty chair across from her–until she finally breaks down into sobs at the table.

Later on in the movie, we see MLH preparing for yet another date, although this time she heads out to a restaurant across the street. Assuming she is once again dining with her imaginary companion, we’re surprised when an honest-to-goodness flesh-and-bones man joins her at the table. After dinner, a seemingly euphoric MLH brings her new beau back to her apartment for a nightcap, but the date quickly takes a dark turn when the man begins to force himself on her. She throws him out of the apartment and once again is reduced to sobs. The burden of her loneliness finally too much to bear, MLH attempts suicide by swallowing a handful of pills--only to be stopped when she hears through the window the strains of a beautiful song being played by her composer neighbor.

Admittedly, I care way too much what people think of me. Of course, being a single woman is much more common and acceptable than it was when Rear Window came out in the 1950s, but I do still wonder if people view "older" single women as tragic figures, as lonely and depressed and pathetic as Miss Lonely Hearts (please, I barely have enough energy to make dinner for myself, let alone an imaginary date :) People want so much to appear "normal," and when you’re single in a sea of married couples, you’ve instantly got a handicap in that race to be normal. I feel that way about myself, but do others feel that way about me? I’m sure some don’t .... and some most certainly do.

I should mention that Miss Lonely Hearts appears to get a happy ending. When we last see her, she is in the apartment of the composer of the enchanting music that saved her from her ultimate despair.

Cameron