Lore Segal’s “The Arbus Factor”

From The New Yorker's archive: a short story about two elderly friends who meet at a restaurant on the Upper West Side to celebrate the beginning of the New Year.  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌   View in browser | Update your preferences     Fiction "The Arbus Factor" "On one of the first days of the New Year, Jack called Hope. 'Let's have lunch,' he said. 'I've got an agenda.' " By Lore Segal The author Lore Segal offers penetrating perspectives on social mores and the disquietude of mortality. Since 1961, she has contributed more than two dozen pieces to The New Yorker, primarily short fiction. She is also the author of eight children's books and five novels, including "Other People's Houses" and "Shakespeare's Kitchen," the latter a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. In 2007, Segal published "The Arbus Factor," a short story about two elderly friends who meet at a French restaurant on the Upper West Side to celebrate the beginning of the New Year. The pair discuss their resolutions and then reminisce about the times they spent together abroad. "Jack asked Hope," Segal writes, "if she would like to go back." "Something I've been meaning to ask you," Hope said. "Were you and I ever together in an old, old garden? Did we walk under century-old trees? Did we lie down in the grass and look into tree crowns in France, or was that in England? Was it an old English garden or is this a garden in a book?"    "What's to keep us?" Jack said.    There were a lot of reasons, of course, to keep them from going back. Segal's story is a study in the intimacy of what is expressed—and what is often not expressed—in friendships. Her protagonists know the dishes they will order, they intuitively sense the direction in which the conversation will move, and yet there are thoughts and feelings left unspoken. The tale also offers a crystalline window into the complexities of old age. While Segal's tone is light, there's something cryptic lurking just beneath the surface. It's a brief composition, nimble and full of poignancy, reminding us of the bustle of cafés, the camaraderie of companions reconnecting, the evocative impressions of the past.    We've missed much over these two pandemic years. Here's hoping that we're able to reclaim a bit of our former selves in 2022—like two old friends greeting each other once again, reawakening memories obscured but cherished still.   —Erin Overbey, archive editor More from the Archive     Fiction "Ladies' Lunch" From 2017: "The five women have grown old coming together, every other month or so for the last thirty or more years, around one another's table." By Lore Segal     Fiction "Dandelion" From 2019: "You know you have reached the top of the mountain when you are looking at a new world, the existence of which, a moment ago, you could not have suspected." By Lore Segal You're receiving this e-mail because you signed up for the New Yorker Classics newsletter. Was this e-mail forwarded to you? Sign up.   Unsubscribe | Manage your e-mail preferences | Send newsletter feedback | View our privacy policy    The New Yorker may earn a portion of sales from products and services that are purchased through links in our newsletters as part of our affiliate partnerships with retailers.    Copyright © Condé Nast 2022. One World Trade Center, New York, NY 10007. All rights reserved.