Posts tagged as memoir

"Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking"

May 08, 2012 by PatLeach
I took a break from my Notable Books reading for "Quiet: the Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" by Susan Cain. I'd heard some interviews with her earlier this year, and found her comments intriguing.

And then I had to wait awhile because there were (and are!) quite a few holds on it.

Cain's title tells it all--she supports and values the combination of traits that characterize introversion--needing solitude for recharge, preferring one-on-one conversations over cocktail parties, focusing on one topic at a time, and a tendency for active environments to be overstimulating.

She includes research, cultural aspects, advice for romantic pairs and advice for parents.  Cain herself isn't a researcher, but has interviewed many who are, and she has done plenty of homework in seeking out a variety of opinions.

An introvert myself, I connected with many of her observations. In particular, I saw myself in her description of the need to gear up for certain kinds of social events, almost as if going into battle. On the other hand, I haven't sensed the scorn or disapproval of the extroverts in my life as much as she seems to have, and sometimes I felt like she "protested too much." A personal note--I do clearly recall my college boyfriend kindly pointing out that my quietness at parties could be interpreted as my being stuck-up. And he did say so kindly. And I still remember that--it stuck with me. I would guess that quite a few introverts have received similar observations.

I'll recommend this book to people who are interested in the many ways in which personality can be profiled, so that we understand ourselves better, and get along with others better. I'm finding myself having extended animated conversations with others who've read this--and so far, her audience seems mostly--introverts.


Tagged in: Good Reads, nonfiction, memoir, Lit,
Comments: 0

A Notable Memoir, "The Memory Palace"

April 23, 2012 by PatLeach
"The Memory Palace: A Memoir" by Mira Bartok falls into the category of "memoirs by women with mentally ill mothers." Others in this category include "Liars' Club" by Mary Karr and "The Glass Castle" by Jeannette Walls. I picked it up because it's on this year's Notable Books List from the American Library Association. And--I'm a sucker for a memoir.

Here are the basics--Mira Bartok and her sister ended up changing their names and moving to cities away from Cleveland to separate themselves from their mother, who was seriously mentally ill. Bartok became an artist and writer. After a serious car accident and traumatic brain injury as an adult, she decided to take a few steps toward reconnection with her mother who by then was homeless as well.

This book stands out from the others because Bartok includes excerpts from letters that her mother wrote, and she includes pictures of her own art. These deepen her story. Her telling isn't chronological, but it does make sense somehow, as she describes the reconciliation, and then backs up to tell what came before.

Bartok employs the image of the memory palace partly because she had to reconstruct her own ability to remember. She suffered a traumatic brain injury in 1999 at age 40, and lost much of her short term memory. She describes the memory palace as a way of remembering by creating an imaginary space where each item within the space represents something one wishes to remember, an apt description of her writing here.

As I look back on the reading and reflect on what images I will keep of this book, I will recall Bartok's description of when she first saw her mother behaving oddly in a way that was seriously wrong, and her immediate understanding that it was something to hide. The saddest to me was that Bartok seemed to show great talent at the piano; her mother had been a prodigy. But the disorganization of the entire household kept Bartok from continuing with lessons just as she was progressing to serious music.

Bartok struggles with guilt and shame. Yet there is also a sense in which she and her sister keep their eye on the light at the end of a tunnel, knowing that their only hope is that light. Nothing here is easy, but much of it is richly focused on life and hope.

I confess that as I read this, I often silently thanked my parents for being so by-the-book in getting me to bed on time, feeding me three square meals each and every day, and insisting on a sense of order. I chafed at that, but "The Memory Palace" reminded me that there's nothing lovely about the kind of mental chaos that puts children in true danger. I'll recommend this to readers who love memoirs, who seek stories of resilient children, and who want to know more about families without bedtimes.


Tagged in: Notables, Good Reads, memoir,
Comments: 0

"Townie" by Andrew Dubus III

January 12, 2012 by PatLeach
I came across this title on a "best of the year" list recently. I loved "House of Sand and Fog" written by Dubus years ago, and I'm always on the lookout for a memoir. "Townie" sounded interesting because of the relationship that Dubus III had with his father, Andre Dubus, the late short story writer.

Dubus III, his two brothers and sisters grew up primarily with their mother, living in blue collar neighborhoods in worn out Massachusetts cities of the 70s and 80s. Early on,  he sensed that he was basically a chicken who allowed others to push him (and his family) around. He hated that about himself. Their neighborhoods saw plenty of violence and crime. His mother worked hard and was away from the house a lot. He and his dad, by then a faculty member at a small college nearby, saw each other on weekends, and sometimes for dinners together during the week.

Eventually, Dubus III became someone who threw punches at others. Much of this book chronicles the various fights in which he engaged. Because of the extensive focus on fighting, I found this to be a book about another world. I've never thrown a punch, and never been punched. I've never been friends with people who did so. The fighting began to seem tiresome. I kept waiting for him to find another way to live. Eventually, he did.

At a certain point, things stabilize. Dubus III decides to be an educated person. He gets to know his father, spends time with him. His mother and her long-term boyfriend remain in his life. Dubus III has an epiphany, an experience where he writes, and it is rewarding in ways he hadn't predicted.

But a certain anger remains about how alone and afraid he was as a child, and how much he missed. A couple of images that I'll keep from this book include one where Dubus III, maybe 12 or so, plays catch with his dad, and his dad is baffled that he doesn't know how to throw a baseball. He never taught his son, and apparently it hadn't occurred to him that he might not know how. Nor did he recognize that his son lived in a place where children weren't engaged in sports. Similarly, when the elder Dubus referred to the Red Sox, his son honestly didn't know what he was talking about.

As an adult, once he established a strong bond with his father, Dubus III tries to find a time and a way to tell his father how awful it was for him, his brothers and sister. A couple of opportunities slip through his fingers, and maybe it isn't as critical as he thought.

What stays is that sense of loss and fear, expressed most often as explosive physical anger.

Dubus III writes well--he conveys what was bad about his upbringing, but he's also a fine observer of the time and place where he grew up. There was room for fun, room for friendship. That he was such a sensitive observer probably explains both the fighting and his talent for writing.

Many readers of literary fiction enjoy the story behind the stories of their favorite authors, and certainly I'll recommend this to people who loved "House of Sand and Fog." I'm having a hard time putting my finger on the other audiences for this book and its themes of anger, transformation, physical violence, courage, and art--somehow that list reminds me of Hemingway. There is a whole sense of adventure here underpinned by intelligence--and that suggests that a wide audience indeed.


Tagged in: Good Reads, memoir,
Comments: 0

Mary Karr's "Lit"

November 20, 2011 by PatLeach
I finished "Lit" by Mary Karr just over a week ago. I'm nervous when writing about a book more than a few days after finishing it. I'm the kind of reader who tends to forget whole portions of even the books that I enjoy the most. In my defense, I do retain strong mental files of particularly riveting scenes.

This is the third of Mary Karr's memoirs. I was introduced to (and loved) her "The Liar's Club" when it made the ALA Notable Books list in the mid 1990's. I confess that I didn't finish the second, "Cherry."

Karr is a well-regarded poet and professor. But it didn't come easy. "The Liar's Club" tells about her crazy childhood in Texas, with a mother suffering from mental illness and an alcoholic father. But one-sentence summary doesn't begin to convey the richness of language, story and affection that her parents provided. Her storytelling seems always to reflect that intense Southern background, well-chosen words rollicking with energy.

In "Lit" she turns to her own demons of alcoholism and depression. Karr married a fellow writer, the son of a wealthy East Coast family, and when they had a son together, things seemed destined for happiness. Karr finds herself drinking steadily as she cares for her colicky baby, and eventually she sees that she can't just give that up. Quite a bit of the book happens amid the tension of her knowledge of her problem and her unwillingness to give up extreme self-medication. When she does give in, she bolsters her resolve with a turn to religion, to Roman Catholicism.

The scene I'll remember from "Lit" is Karr up in the middle of the night carrying her crying baby, her unfinished drink from earlier in the evening pulling her into the kitchen, where she craves what she'll feel when she swallows what remains. That's not the "madonna and child" that we expect.

Karr addresses the skepticism that she expects many of her writing friends will heap on the 12-step process, and on religion. Early on, she seems almost apologetic that she's finding the language of recovery helpful, even effective. As she continues, she conveys greater comfort there.

I'll certainly recommend this to friends who enjoy memoirs--and Karr continues to be one of the best memoirists around. I'll be interested to hear what friends who've struggled themselves with addiction and mental illness will say about "Lit." But I don't want to convey that this is limited just to narrow segments of readers. Karr excels in memoir. She crafts her story in such a way that it is much more than just her own.


Tagged in: Good Reads, nonfiction, memoir, Lit,
Comments: 1

"Little Heathens" by Mildred Armstrong Kalish

October 21, 2011 by PatLeach
I can't remember who first recommended "Little Heathens" by Mildred Armstrong Kalish to me. But to that mystery person--thanks!

Right up my alley--a memoir, in this case about growing up in Iowa during the Great Depression.

Kalish begins by recording the big mystery of her childhood--her father was banished from the family when she was five. She never hears from him again. She never learns why he went away.

Yet what I recall of her story isn't a sense of sadness, or of dismay at the conspicuousness of having a divorce in the family. What I recall is that despite their lack of money and the absence of a father, Mildred considered her childhood to be full of interest and energy.

She details food, animals, school, swear words, bathroom behavior, and other aspects of life that were most interesting to children. She conveys the sense that I hear in my own parents' recollections of that time, a sense of one's own efforts being important to the family's economy, and further, a sense that there was no shame in being poor at a time when just about everyone was poor.

I wouldn't say that Kalish romanticizes that time, but she conveys how much she values that she grew up on a farm where day after day something interesting happened and where she learned to work hard. That background served her well when she set out on her own.

Kalish notes that it could be hard to be a child in a home such as her grandparents', where fun took a far back seat to work. She doesn't often seem to feel sorry for herself, but I was deeply struck by this passage that concludes the chapter on town school, "At home I couldn't do anything right; at school I seemed to do everything right. So, school is where I wanted to be."

I've recommended this book to many friends as a quick read that connected with me because Kalish's young life in Iowa was so similar to that of my parents' childhood in Nebraska. I think it would make for a good book group selection because plenty of serious themes arise even in stories of a happy childhood--fairness, whether we are loved, and how we find our place in the world.


Tagged in: "Little Heathens", Mildred Armstrong Kalish, Good Reads, memoir,
Comments: 1


Previous Entries