Tayari's Blog: What I'm Reading

For those folks not familiar with these titles, Truth and Beauty is Patchett's memoir about her friendship with Grealy and Autobiography of a Face is Grealy's memoir about her struggle with cancer and the resulting disfigurement.

The reason I picked up Truth and Beauty was not that I was particularly interested in stories about friendship. I was on my way to Yaddo, a writers colony mentioned in the book. I thought it would be cool to read Truth and Beauty on the plane. Afterall, I was en route to a very writerly experience and this was a book about writerly experiences, was it not? Besides "everyone" was reading it and I didn't want to be the only one at the cocktail party unable to talk about it.

So, I read it. And I liked it. I was intrigued by Lucy, as the needy, brilliant friend of the benevolent Patchett. I knew before picking up the book that Grealy had died in 2002 of a herion overdose before I read it, but still I bawled like an infant on the plane. It is a good book.

But this summer, I read Grealy's account of her own life and a very different portrait emerged. Of course, a person will portray herself more sympathetically than would someone else. I think sympathetic is the wrong word, actually. Greally envokes your UNDERSTANDING, not sympathy, which is what I got from the Patchett book. And in Grealy's book, Patchett is not mentioned at all.

Then, I was cruising the net and found an article by Lucy Grealy's sister, Suellen Grealy. She wrote in The Guardian about how abused she and her family felt by the publication of Patchett's book. There was quite a debate that followed on various lit blogs on the topic-- who has the right to write what about who and when.

But for me, the hurt in Suellen Grealy's article was undeniable. And it made more wonder if having the RIGHT to hurt someone makes it okay to do so. I mean, I understand that Ann Patchett has every right to write and PUBLISH her memoir about her friendship with Lucy. But after reading the sister's piece, I don't know that it was the right thing to do.

Which then brings us to me. Over the last five months or so, I have been invited to write three or four memoir pieces. One was my article about the Atlanta Child Murders. In this piece I talk quite a bit anout my dad. Was it really okay for me to talk about him? Of course I have the right and desire to tell my own story, but I can't really tell it without him.

The next piece I am writing is about my experiences at Vacation Bible School. My family has a complicated approach to religion. My dad is hard-core black atheist and my mom is pretty much born again. How can I write about myself and religion without exposing them and the tender subject of their beliefs? The third piece is about myself and my choice to be single. How can I even begin to talk about romance without dragging a whole bunch of other people into it?

I don't know. I think I prefer the safe realm of fiction.

And this brings me to the next books on my list:

Thicker Than Water by Kathyryn Harrison. I have actually read this, but I am going to read it again. It's novel about a young girl who has a romantic AFFAIR with her father. (It's a long story.) The other book on the list is The Kiss, by the same author. This one is a memoir about basically the same subject. You can see while I am intrigued.. albeit belatedly. These books have been out for years.

Of course, I'll blog about it when I'm done!