Memoirs

In the last few weeks I’ve been a terrible blogger but a fairly decent reader. When there’s so little time to do anything, books come before writing. That’s not to say that I’m up to speed in that department either. I’ve actually been feeling disconnected from my regular literary life. It’s been weeks since a novel has been in my hands, and while reading for work is necessary, it’s not what I’d normally choose per se. I’m also farther away from the actual volumes at the library as well, even if I’ve never spent more time there. Sometimes I feel one step removed, but most directors could probably claim the same. I’ve taken a couple of days off to catch up, and the R & R should do some good. Just give me some books.

In a past post, I had said that I’m not too big on memoir and biography. Of course my reading habits of late would indicate the exact opposite. These books just land on my lap, I swear it. A couple of them have been really good, although a current one (My Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion) has been an absolute struggle. Normally it would have been tossed at the 50-page mark, but it has been dubbed the best non-fiction book of last year, so it must be endured (more on this in the next post, if I get through it by then).

Last night I finished up a terrific debut memoir [in audio format] by J.R. Moehringer entitled The Tender Bar. It’s about the author’s search for his father, but also male role models generally. He essentially grew up in a Long Island bar, where he learned about masculinity, friendship, loyalty, betting, drinking, and most importantly, storytelling. The narration by Adam Grupper exactly matches the character. I enjoyed this one immensely and shall certainly pass it along.

Another recently finished memoir that I liked was Diana Abu-Jaber’s The Language of Baklava, a story about an American girl who moves to Jordan with her family, then back to the United States, then once again to her ancestral homeland as a grad student. She struggles with her two seemingly irreconcilable identities but remains loyal to her family and to her memories, especially of food. If you like Ruth Reichl’s memoirs, you’ll appreciate this one as well.