With your inner monologue-such perception! (I was 15 and being dragged to church to pray when we had never really prayed before and what the hell would God do now?) Maddy in ‘The Isabel Fish’ -oh, Maddy, you might just be my favorite. Ella in ‘Pilgrims’- silent yet always seeing, always aware even when her parents are grabbing onto whatever fad might help them. Mira, the strong artist with the supermodel cousin in ‘When She is Old and I am Famous’ who doubts her talents yet still doesn’t pretend to be someone other than who she is. Helena in ‘What We Save’ who watches her mom shrink away and assumes the role of caregiver. The girls in these stories are who I wish I had been. I was 14 and wretching as I cleaned her hair out of the drain. I was 13 and staying over at a friend’s house, pretending that I was a normal girl with a normal life. I was 12 and hiding outside until after dark so I wouldn’t have to deal with the sighs of pain or the blank look in her face. I was forced to babysit and cook dinner and clean up. I was angry that her illness took over my life. I fought with her, I didn’t listen to her medical updates, I turned up my radio when she was crying in the next room.
Some are just young girls thrown into situations that shape them.
Not all are part of the above classification. She captures the little girl who is strong when she has every reason not to be. Now I can add Julie Orringer to the list. Motherless-child-of-cancer-who-has-many-regrets (read: Catholic Guilt)-and-is-stunted-therefore-never-learning-how-to-be-a-real-grownup! Lorrie Moore, Susan Minot, Sonya Sones …they nail it. I seem to be drawn to a certain classification. One that writers can hone in on and know that I am where the $$$ is at. They are noxious memories that cannot be candy coated. Those events and my actions are a part of me. These stories pull at my gut and bring me back to times where ‘shoulda’ and ‘maybe if’ exist even though I know I can never go back and undo what has happened. Why? Because these characters are better than me and I live in retrospect. It’s been 3 days since I finished it and I find myself going back and rereading lines and calling up scenes. I was thinking I might just skip the review thingy and just leave it as ‘holy shit’ and be done with it. I can’t really express how much this book affected me.
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