| October 9, 1998
Girl,
Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen (1993). This is one of
my favorite books. It's Susanna Kaysen's memoir of her experiences with depression and
mental health treatment in the late 1960s. Her thoughts on what it means to be sane
(and what it means to be insane) are what draw me back to the book again and
again, and when I re-read it this time I was struck by her wonderful, wise voice.
Mostly it's an account of the two years she spent in McLean
Hospital in Belmont, MA. It's not the happiest of topics, but Kaysen writes about
her experiences so lucidly and gracefully that I appreciate every word. I love the
way she questions herself, her story, her own memories as well as the documents that
refute them, and balances precisely between all of these points. The book is a
beautiful, poetic exploration of the ways we are defined by the world, and the ways we
come to define ourselves.
The Last Time I Wore a Dress by Daphne Scholinski with Jane Meredith Adams (1997).
Another memoir of "madness." I
enjoyed this book so much, mostly because of the strength of the writer's voice -- Daphne
Scholinski just sounds like a woman I'd like to know. I love the way she
tells her story, the way that she dispells her demons by expressing them, and in the
process scares off some of the reader's demons, too.
In subject matter this book is very similar to
Susanna Kaysen's. Scholinski tells the story of the four years she spent in mental
institutions as a teenager, with the strength -- and humor -- of a self-aware woman.
Like Kaysen, Scholinski has passed through a difficult childhood and has emerged on
the other side with a story to tell that is both compelling and familiar. Yet the
book is unique and bright -- where Kaysen is poetic, Scholinski uses realism and a more
journalistic style. Each of these women is turning a light on herself, on her past,
in her own way. In the process, each of them turns a light on our culture. I
find their stories fascinating and necessary.
The God of Small
Things by Arundhati Roy (1997). This is one of
those books that opened my eyes, my ears, and my mind. Arundhati Roy's use of language and
detail astonishes me at every turn, and makes me more aware of the world around me. In
this novel she captures the joy, the confusion, and the sorrow of childhood as few writers
do, in a story that is both magical and tragic.
The novel revolves around a pair of fraternal twins, Rahel and
Estha, and what they learn in one short summer. It's a story of how one hot night
can affect entire lives. The language is rich and evocative, and it melts on the
tongue like dark, bitter chocolate. In fact, the world of the novel is so complete
that it was almost a surprise to put the book down and see the cool New England autumn
around me once again. It's hard for me to describe what's so amazing about this book --
but there's a reason it won the Booker Prize. |
