San Francisco
WomenSan Francisco is the setting for the beginning and brief renewal of Henry Chinaski’s relationship with Liza Weston, whose letters and hospitality offer him an unusually domestic experience. The city’s dance studio, hilltop apartment, meals, and cautious drives become places where intimacy is tested against Chinaski’s restlessness; after several days he leaves, and a later visit to Los Angeles confirms that their connection has lost its earlier excitement.
Liza’s Letters and the Invitation
Chinaski has been corresponding with Liza for several months before she proposes a visit. She is thirty-two, has been married once, and supports herself by giving dance lessons, including ballet, in her own studio. Her long, precisely typed letters are written on pinkish paper. Rather than dwell on literature or abstract questions, she describes ordinary events with insight and humor, qualities that Chinaski says he enjoys. When she announces that she is coming to Los Angeles to buy dancing costumes, he welcomes her and offers his home, while specifying that she will sleep on the couch and he in his bed because of their age difference. Their connection therefore begins not with a shared public scene in San Francisco but with a sustained exchange of letters and an invitation to stay.
Arrival in San Francisco
Chinaski later flies to San Francisco with Liza. Her apartment sits at the top of a steep hill, and its arrangement immediately contrasts with his own rough, solitary routine. She settles him among large pillows, plays Mozart, pours chilled wine, and cooks dinner. The meal is chicken stew with salad and iced tea. Chinaski notes that he prefers visiting women in their homes because there he can always leave, a qualification that shadows the comfort of Liza’s hospitality: he accepts the welcome while holding on to the possibility of departure.
After dinner they drive to Fisherman’s Wharf in Liza’s car. She drives cautiously, stopping at cross streets and checking both directions; even when traffic is absent, she waits. Her care unsettles Chinaski, who describes himself as waiting alongside her. The drive gives their difference a mundane, physical form: Liza proceeds by caution, while he is impatient with pauses and more at ease with disorder than with deliberation.
Apartment, Intimacy, and the Studio
When it grows dark, they return to the apartment. Liza brings out more wine, opens the shutters, and sits with Chinaski among the pillows as they kiss and drink. Their conversation turns to her work schedule, but the visit is not organized around a clear plan for what either of them will do next. Intimacy develops in the open-ended hours of the evening, shaped by the apartment’s quiet domestic setting and Chinaski’s drinking.
The following day Liza takes him to her dance studio. They buy sandwiches across the street and eat them there with drinks. The room is large and spare, with an empty floor, stereo equipment, a few chairs, and ropes strung high across the ceiling. Liza offers to teach him to dance; he declines, saying he is not in the mood. The studio makes her working life visible without drawing Chinaski into it: he visits the place where she teaches but does not take up her invitation to participate.
He stays another three or four days. The days and nights are similar, and he describes the visit as neither bad nor great. He becomes somewhat more accustomed to sleeping on Liza’s waterbed, but continues to prefer a normal bed. These details register accommodation without transformation: he can adjust to aspects of her domestic world, yet he remains a visitor with fixed preferences and a limited appetite for shared routine.
Departure and Return
After the several-day stay, Chinaski flies back to Los Angeles. He and Liza continue exchanging letters, preserving the relationship across the distance between her San Francisco home and his life in Los Angeles. A month later she comes to see him. He finds that she looks different, though he cannot explain why, and does not enjoy simply sitting around with her. Instead, he takes her to the racetrack, the movies, and boxing matches—the activities he says he enjoys doing with women. They still have sex, but it no longer feels as exciting to him; he compares the altered feeling to being married.
When Liza says she has a girlfriend working at the Women’s Lib Building and asks to stay there for a couple of days rather than return to San Francisco in her present state, the arrangement comes to an end. She gathers her belongings, and Chinaski drives her to the Westlake district. The episode gives San Francisco a defined but temporary role in the book: it is the place of Liza’s home, work, and hospitality, and the starting point for a connection that can continue through letters but cannot sustain the same charge when carried back into Chinaski’s routines.