Luke Holland on Abigail Thomas's Safekeeping

             Abigail Thomas’s book, Safekeeping, follows the life of the author as she struggles to support her family and find love.  Thomas uses a form of “flash non-fiction” in which she writes short chapters about specific instances from her life.  The order of these snippets of her life at times seem random but also flows like a novel.  I found Thomas’s book to be a very interesting read due to the unique style that she implements and the way it flows from chapter to chapter.

            Thomas begins the book by describing her life before meeting one of her husbands.  She uses short, descriptive sentences to convey the feelings that she is remembering.  She changes her point of view from first to third person and at times even uses second person.  Since this is a work of non-fiction, the change in point of view may allow her to be truthful without revealing too much about her personal life, while also keeping the reader interested.  Thomas’s use of description and simile really jumped out to me when she describes a memory she had of her second husband, “A deity at breakfast, talking with his mouth full, and the crumbs shooting forth became the stars and galaxies.”  By describing her second husband’s mannerisms in such a way, the creative side of Thomas’s memories becomes apparent.  The fact that she associated something as complex as stars and the galaxies with such a mundane act like chewing with your mouth open portrays the authors deeper insight into her experiences.  Thomas’s descriptive writing continues as she begins to tell the story of her life.   

            As the book continues, the story reads more like a novel as the author begins to describe her various marriages and how her life unfolds.  She gives in depth description into the culture of the mid to late twentieth century and further portrays her change from a naïve girl to an “experienced” adult.  Her story unfolds slowly through her emotional depictions of numerous events in her life.  In my opinion, the epitome of her emotions occurs after her father’s death when she receives his stone collection, “She couldn’t open them.  She wanted the moment to be right; she didn’t want to do this just any-time; she was waiting to feel in the exact center of something.”  By expressing her emotions through this one experience in her past, the author effectively appeals to her audience.  The idea of sentimental value gives Thomas a sense of meaning and leads to self-reflection.  However, she unceremoniously opens the stones in the next paragraph, which shows her humanity. 

            I thoroughly enjoyed Safekeeping because the author adequately appealed to my emotions through her memoirs.  The purpose of non-fiction is to give something to your audience and Thomas does so through her use of honesty and self-expression.  She utilized a unique style, which was hard to follow at times but ultimately leads to a thoughtful and enjoyable story.          

Justin Richards on Levy's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking"

Life’s a Recipe

By Justin Richards

            E.J Levy’s "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" is something that took me off guard at first, believing it to be a story about maybe his journey in French cooking. Yet it has nothing to do with him and French cooking at all, it is more of him recalling his mother cooking eloquent meals from her copy Julia Child’s cookbook Art of Mastering French Cooking as a boy. Interpreting it even further, it seems as though it he is describing his life, relationships, and even family as a recipe.

            He first starts to talk about how he would remember on the nights that his dad was home his mom would make these delicious French cuisines, such as Boeuf bourguignon, Bouillabaisse and Mousseline au chocolat. He says that this was one of his mother’s favorite things to do, to be able to cook these recipes from her copy of Julia Child’s cookbook. Later on he soon found out that his mother almost found a companionship with her cookbook, “Julia Child was the only reliable companion my mother had in those years, other than the woman who came once a week to clean the house”. This was because his father was rarely ever home and he himself stated he was not suitable for the part.

            Later in the story he makes a reference to how his parents’ marriage was something of a mixed marriage, recalling that it sounded like “mixed greens, mixed vegetables, “mix carefully two cups sifted flour with . . . .” As if marriage were a form of sentimental cookery”.  This mix of a man and a woman would eventually come together and make something more delectable as a whole. Taking this into account we can see that a relationship such as a man and a woman have to mix together nicely, their personalities, their likes, their dislikes, fears and a numerous of other things need to be taken into careful account when deciding to mix. If not taken carefully we can up with something that is bitter or distasteful or in the matter of marriage a divorce. Throughout his life he seems to relate things with food such as, the way feels toward a woman, his parent’s relationship, and just life in general. Yet he seems that instead of his parent’s mixing together they were more melted together as such with a melting pot, “the melting pot is supposed to inspire amity not love”. Although they were not completely happy they stayed together because his mother liked his father and that was enough to keep them together.

            It seems as though life and relationships are a giant cookbook or recipe, each needing its own ingredients and whether they mix or melt together depends on the relationship. Mixing of two people seems the better than having to melt with one, while mixing you can take each quality of the person and create something more amazing. Melting together with someone can still create something amazing, but whether or not in the end the two decide melting was a right choice is something for that couple to figure out. Life is a giant recipe that with the right ingredients can turn out to be something amazing. Even though every now and then we might make something bitter with a choice we make, we always have the chance to whip up something new.

Dominique Delgado on Jo Ann Beard's "The Fourth State of Matter"

As I started reading this essay I had no idea where it was headed. I was under the impression that this writer was writing about her dull, somewhat lonely and sad life. The first thing I noticed was the ways she described certain things, almost in a poetic way. This happens immediately in the second line, “…as I row my boat through a dim, complicated dream”. I think it is lines like this that makes this piece creative non-fiction, opposed to non-fiction. The way the writer draws the reader in by descriptive and stimulating words. She begins her story talking about her helpless, dying dog. There is a part in the second paragraph where she is standing outside in the middle of the night waiting for her dog to pee, and she is describing the night sky in a way only somebody familiar with astronomy could describe it. Looking back, she is foreshadowing a major part of the story.

            Jo Ann Beard has followed the “street-car” rule in a way, when it comes to this non-fiction piece. The essay is very well organized. It starts with the dying dog, the stars, and the night sky. It continues with other main points along the way, but ends with the dying dog, stars and the night sky. It does a perfect loop, yet by the end there is a totally different meaning and feeling.

            As the story progressed, I started to feel bored. She talked about the squirrels in the spare bedroom, her “missing husband” who constantly and pathetically called her, her dull job that she really had no passion for, and then her co-workers. The squirrels and missing husband did have a bit of an interesting storyline, added a bit of kookiness to her otherwise boring life. I liked how she described bits and pieces of those stories because they had interconnectedness. The squirrels were loud and noisy, uninvited, living in the spare bedroom where all of her husband’s belongings were quietly out of the way. Little did I know in the beginning that these miniscule parts of the story would end up having a mighty emotional role in the end of the piece.

            When Beard speaks of her work, she speaks as if she didn’t belong. She was just there because it was a job, but she didn’t have the passion that the others had for physics. She just knew how to put together a journal. She speaks of her co-workers; Some she doesn’t have a close relationship with, but works side by side with them everyday, but seems to know them on a personal level none the less. She has a passionately awful relationship with one person in particular, Bob. They constantly butt-heads, argue, and slam doors. Bob is best friends with the person Beard is closest with, “I spend more time with Chris than I ever did with my husband”. She talks with Chris about everything, her dying dog, her missing husband; and he shares his life with her, his depressed mother, his crazy dog.

            The way Beard eventually explains her co-workers came as a bit of a surprise to me, but was intriguing. She explained each of their personalities in a negative way, through the eyes of a student that worked with them, Gang Lu. The first time reading this piece, I found the way Beard explains Gang Lu’s emotions a bit odd. How did she know what he was thinking? How did she know that “he’s sick of physics and sick of the buffoons who practice it”? Then she starts describing her co-workers through Gang Lu’s eyes, all in a negative connotation. (Little did I know that there were letters that Gang Lu had written, letters I am assuming Beard got the inspiration or information to make these assumptions of Lu’s emotions towards his life and his co-workers).

            Then the turn of events happens. Beard says, “It’s November 1, 1991, the last day of the first part of my life”. As I’m reading I try to figure out what the big event is that is going to change this woman’s life so drastically. Then, she starts to write of the shooting. It kind of comes out of nowhere, but if I would have been paying attention to all the foreshadowing in the previous pages, I probably could have caught on quicker. She explains it in timeline form, describing where each person is sitting when they get shot, where they get shot, the smoke that comes from the gun, the actions of the surrounding people, the next steps Gang Lu, the shooter, takes. The description is fast, like the gunshots. It took twelve minutes to shoot everyone on his list. That is a short amount of time in real life, and only takes about a page in the book to describe the incidents.

            From then on she describes her denial as she starts to hear the news. Describes her numbness, how her mind goes blank, how she tries to convince herself that none of this has happened. She tells herself that Chris is not amongst the dead. But he is, and she is numb.

            The first thing she finds comfort in is her dying dog. It seemed like the reason she kept him alive all this time was for this moment. She needed him, and he was there for her just like she had been throughout his dying days. Next, her husband, who hasn’t shown his face in who knows how long, shows up at the door. He hugs her and tells her he is there for her. The part I found the most emotional was towards the end when she describes standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting to hear the scurrying of the squirrels that she had kicked out of her house shortly before all this. She was waiting to hear them, and sadly she remembered they were gone. “Silence. No matter how much you miss them. They never come back once they’re gone”.
            The essay ends with her lying at night with her arm on her dying dog, propped up so that she can see the night sky and planets through her window.

            This essay was composed in a perfect circle, or route I should say. It started with the dog in the night and the stars in the sky. Went on to talk about her husband, the squirrels, her work and co-workers. Co-workers went to shooting of the co-workers, then back to the husband, the squirrels, the dying dog, and the night sky.
            If I take anything from this essay, it will be Beards amazing yet sly way of foreshadowing. The second time reading the essay, I caught on to the foreshadowing and how it left a sense of eeriness. I also liked how she described people through others eyes, whether it be through Gang Lu’s, Chris’, or her friend Caroline’s. Out of everything, I like how the story ended up interconnecting and making its way back to where it originally started. She tied this essay back up perfectly, in a way that the reader felt a connection with her because she had walked you through it all before.

Pilar Dougall on Mark Doty's "Return to Sender"

Memory, Betrayal, and Freedom

By Pilar Dougall

I chose this first week of blogging based on the title of this reading, Return to Sender. I knew that I would have a heavier load later in the semester and when I saw the title I thought “piece of cake.” This story must be about “snail” mail, that’s in the past; I like history so this should be a good read. I knew nothing of Mark Doty.

             This piece begins with a tale of a trip to Memphis and then took an unexpected detour. For the first three pages I thought the writer had gotten lost. Doty mentioned memory and feelings, a therapist and lighthouses, his early poetry and circuses. Then, quite suddenly, we are in Memphis and just as quickly, the Memphis story is over.  Yet, Doty is not finished. He brilliantly goes on to explain how he wanted to use memory and not history to tell his story, especially how it relates to his version of the individuals in his memoir; his mother, sister, and most of all his father.

            I was feeling a bit let down as I started this reading, but as I read on I understood that this piece was not about Doty’s personal story about a trip to Memphis as much as it was about the process and potential outcome of developing “characters” in a memoir. He explains that “The lives of other people are unknowable.” The writer of a memoir must be able to give life to those included in his/her personal story, “to make them known.” Yet, in doing so the writer must decide which version of other individuals he/she wants to share; the version known only to the writer or a “historical” version, a less intimate version with a focus on facts supported by research and interviews. Doty describes his struggle with writing his version, from the memories of a young boy, about his own family knowing that his sister and father would eventually read what he had written. In addition to wondering how they would react to spilling out the family history in the written word, he questions himself about his feelings of betraying the “known” version of each person.

            As I read through this piece I began to understand why I have never been able to keep a personal journal. I especially came to this realization when I read his explanation of a “memoirist’s nightmare: that we will lose people in our lives by writing about them.”  I have felt this. Each time I started a journal, I wondered what would happen to it once I was no longer around or incapacitated in some way; who would find it, who would read it, and what will they think? I quickly pulled out the pages, tore them up, and threw them away. Perhaps this is why I lean more on the side of fiction writing.

Yet, on the last page, Doty further explains that freedom can be found in the form of betrayal and the freedom that he experienced in telling his version of the truth. Without this he asks, what else is there? His answer, “The alternative is silence, a frozen politeness, a fake life.” At this, I came to another realization. Everyone has a story to tell and I have my own. I can and I shall write it. Will I care what others think? Maybe, I will. No, I won’t. Yes.