Post #43 – Women’s Memoirs, Book Raves – Matilda Butler and Kendra Bonnett
I’m not menopausal. And save for a few hot flashes, I never was menopausal. For Amy Ferris, “Midlife Crisis” is code for menopause…replete with mood swings, gut-wrenching, soggy-eyed emotions…heat, hunger, and insomnia…and humor. But for Ferris, it’s time well spent. Hey, she got a book out of all her early-morning-hour musings.
While I can’t identify with the dramatic change that caused her thoughts and memories to mingle and merge, it really doesn’t matter. She is a child of the Fifties. We have the Baby Boomer connection. We connect on a universal plane of time, place and context. Yes, I enjoyed Marrying George Clooney: Confessions from a Midlife Crisis. It’s a fast read that balances humor and poignancy, with just a twinge of anger and plenty of honesty.
But with 59 chapters, plus an explanation of Midlife, an Introduction, and an Epilogue, I knew I was in for a different sort of memoir. I didn’t know how different. Before I describe Ferris’ style, let me share a point of discussion Matilda and I have had with any number of our students: Should my memoir unfold chapter by chapter? Or should it be a collection of vignettes? Maybe I could use diary entries as a device for organizing my memories. Matilda and I usually discourage aspiring authors from organizing their first memoir as a collection of disparate vignettes because taking this approach usually means they have yet to find their theme and message. We encourage each author to dig deeper into herself and find that all-important reason, that necessity for writing her memoir. When she finds it and can articulate it, her book’s organization usually becomes clearer.
I still stand by this advice. Even after reading Marrying George Clooney: Confessions from a Midlife Crisis
First, I believe that Ferris did her heavy lifting. She identified her theme and message. This is a mother-daughter story. It’s actually a bittersweet mother-daughter story. Ferris was the daughter of a beautiful but self-obsessed, egotistical, selfish woman who didn’t want children. And while she didn’t have a lot of time for her two children when they were growing up, she did–in her own way–love them. Of this Ferris is sure.
Her message–which appears tentatively at first–is that an underlying flicker of love can get you through. Along the way, a child can feel overlooked, abandoned and even momentarily suicidal; she can still grow up and build a successful life for herself. But sooner or later she must come to grips with her childhood. What better time than at 3 AM, wide awake and coping with her own official transition into midlife…and during her visits with her 88-year-old mother who is rapidly losing her own race against dementia. The convergence of these two events provides Ferris a rare opportunity to see inside not only herself but her mother. She takes full advantage of the moment.
I suspect that the randomness of the early-morning musings, which become more attenuated as the memoir develops, is Ferris’ way of capturing her mood during the travails of menopause. It’s effective although it took me about 30 pages to get used to her wild thoughts, one-word sentences and mixing of fonts. Once I settled down, released control and let the author take me on her journey, I enjoyed her insight and humor. This is an interesting memoir.
Where does George Clooney fit into this? I’ll let you read the book and find out for yourself. I’ll only say that George sums up the difference between mother and daughter.
memoir book review
memoir writing
memoir writing with vignettes
