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Memoir-y lane
Mar. 28th, 2019 10:56 amRecently finished
Flâneuse: Women Walk the City in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice, and London, by Lauren Elkin, isn’t strictly a memoir, although she frames the book around her memories of living, working, and wandering in all of the cities named in the title. Elkin weaves her own experiences into a broader discussion of architecture, history, and culture. Each chapter profiles a female author, artist, photographer, or filmmaker whose work and lives touch on the idea of women in public spaces: Jean Rhys, George Sand, and Agnes Varda in Paris; Virginia Woolf in London; Sophie Calle in Venice; Joan Didion in New York; and Martha Gellhorn ‘everywhere,’ as a non-exhaustive list.
This is definitely one of my favorite books I’ve read so far this year, because it appeals exactly to my personal brand of nerdy. Like, yes, PLEASE tell me about how this urban planning relates to that political uprising, which intersects with the life of this author, and also how it fits into the broader history of political protests in that country, and, yeah, I’d love to hear your personal anecdotes, too! There was also a chapter on the unwalkability of American suburbs that dovetailed nicely with my Sustainable Cities class.
Currently reading
Heart Berries, by First Nations Canadian author Terese Marie Mailhot, is another book I found on Libby while looking for something else. It’s a short but emotionally heavy read: a collection of essays, many of them written in the form of letters to her (white) husband, through which she processes her struggles with mental illness, racism, poverty, motherhood, and being sexually abused as a child.
I can’t remember the exact quote, but one thing that stuck out to me was how, when Mailhot discussed her father’s abuse and alcoholism, she said she wished she had a different story to tell, because she didn’t want to perpetuate negative stereotypes about First Nations men. It made me think of this interview with Tarell Alvin McCraney, who wrote the film Moonlight:
This idea of “processing grief” is a core of Mailhot’s story, too, both personal and inherited/intergenerational grief/trauma. In her own words: “In white culture, forgiveness is synonymous with letting go. In my culture, I believe we carry pain until we can reconcile with it through ceremony. Pain is not framed like a problem with a solution.”
Next up
I’m finally at the front of the line for Sarah Smarsh’s Heartland: A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country on Earth, which has been on my Libby holds list since *checks* the beginning of February, so hopefully I’ll get it soon!
Flâneuse: Women Walk the City in Paris, New York, Tokyo, Venice, and London, by Lauren Elkin, isn’t strictly a memoir, although she frames the book around her memories of living, working, and wandering in all of the cities named in the title. Elkin weaves her own experiences into a broader discussion of architecture, history, and culture. Each chapter profiles a female author, artist, photographer, or filmmaker whose work and lives touch on the idea of women in public spaces: Jean Rhys, George Sand, and Agnes Varda in Paris; Virginia Woolf in London; Sophie Calle in Venice; Joan Didion in New York; and Martha Gellhorn ‘everywhere,’ as a non-exhaustive list.
This is definitely one of my favorite books I’ve read so far this year, because it appeals exactly to my personal brand of nerdy. Like, yes, PLEASE tell me about how this urban planning relates to that political uprising, which intersects with the life of this author, and also how it fits into the broader history of political protests in that country, and, yeah, I’d love to hear your personal anecdotes, too! There was also a chapter on the unwalkability of American suburbs that dovetailed nicely with my Sustainable Cities class.
Currently reading
Heart Berries, by First Nations Canadian author Terese Marie Mailhot, is another book I found on Libby while looking for something else. It’s a short but emotionally heavy read: a collection of essays, many of them written in the form of letters to her (white) husband, through which she processes her struggles with mental illness, racism, poverty, motherhood, and being sexually abused as a child.
I can’t remember the exact quote, but one thing that stuck out to me was how, when Mailhot discussed her father’s abuse and alcoholism, she said she wished she had a different story to tell, because she didn’t want to perpetuate negative stereotypes about First Nations men. It made me think of this interview with Tarell Alvin McCraney, who wrote the film Moonlight:
I asked [McCraney] about the concern some black artists and storytellers have — that our work may simply boil down to trading in black pain for rent money. “If the question, for you, about peddling black pain is appropriate,” he replied, “you also have to think to yourself, well, why am I in so much pain?” It doesn’t make sense, he suggested, to demand that an artist produce joy when his or her inner life is still processing grief.
This idea of “processing grief” is a core of Mailhot’s story, too, both personal and inherited/intergenerational grief/trauma. In her own words: “In white culture, forgiveness is synonymous with letting go. In my culture, I believe we carry pain until we can reconcile with it through ceremony. Pain is not framed like a problem with a solution.”
Next up
I’m finally at the front of the line for Sarah Smarsh’s Heartland: A Memoir of Working Hard and Being Broke in the Richest Country on Earth, which has been on my Libby holds list since *checks* the beginning of February, so hopefully I’ll get it soon!
