Memoirous

In The History of Great Things Elizabeth Crane has done the miraculous. She has brought her deceased mother back to have a conversation. Together they tell a story. Is it fiction or memoir? Well, they even argue about this. As mothers and daughters often do, they have intersectional “talks” about what may or may not have happened. Things get especially heated when Betsy is planning her wedding to Ben. Mom wants to know why Betsy selects to include some details and leave others out—a question many memoirists struggle with—how do I keep it real without hurting others or bringing up something better left unsaid/unwritten. Not everything is grist for the mill. Where upon the mother reminds her daughter: YOU SAID THIS WASN’T A MEMOIR. It is a kind of memoir. One with all those souls looking over your shoulder, some with their own questions, and their own perspectives on how it all went down. A kind of Spoon River Anthology memoir-ish book. My own contribution to ...

Meta is an odd word; it is all about me. Self-referential. And, we do it in the subtlest of ways. Right when I’m enjoying a work of fiction I get a glimmer, a suggestion, that this book is all about the author. It is likely their story. At this blog I’ve reviewed Aleksandar Hemon’s short stories, Love and Obstacles and Lily Tuck’s Liliane —all supposedly fiction, but both hovering on the edge of autobiography. With Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf and The History of Great Things by Elizabeth (Betsy!) Crane we are easily clued in. The author actually references themselves. In Our Souls at Night the main characters talk over the morning newspaper while at breakfast and mention that that one writer, his latest novel is being made into a play. She’d enjoyed the last production the playhouse did of his work and now it looks like they are launching another. “He could write a book about us. How would you like that?”—she asks. Louis replies to her,   “I don’t ...