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Reviews tagging 'Pandemic/Epidemic'
Happily: A Personal History-With Fairy Tales by Sabrina Orah Mark
1 review
tigger89's review
reflective
medium-paced
3.5
When I picked up this title, I wasn't familiar with Sabrina Orah Mark or her column. I do, however, enjoy reading about fairy tales. I wasn't sure what exactly to expect from this collection of memoir essays, but I was pleasantly surprised.
Every essay had an event or theme from her life being related to one or more lessons from a fairy tale. This might be a general musing on mothers and stepmothers in story and life, a discussion of hair loss being related to Rapunzel, or wicked wonderings about the role of mother-as-fairy as a child begins to lose their baby teeth. A few of them felt like they'd been a bit shoehorned, but most were interesting. I particularly enjoyed that she often cited multiple versions of the same story, noting where they differed and where they agreed in relation to the point she was making. The tales explored stayed largely within what we'd consider to be the western canon, which may be disappointing to some readers who were looking for more diversity. While there are frequently references to Jewish tradition, it's not quite the same thing.
The most distinct thing about the essays is their seamless blend of the real and the fantastical. She might be relating an event that happened to her, then suddenly halfway through the scene it begins to feel implausible, as if we've slipped sideways through the fabric of reality and wound up inside a story. It took me a few chapters to catch on and embrace this method of storytelling. There were a many times when I read along for several sentences, unsure whether I was in reality or fairyland. Ultimately I enjoyed it more than I didn't, but I know this won't be for everybody.
These are incredibly personal essays. She frequently discusses her family — parents, sister, husband, children, and step-children — which is to be expected in memoir. But where it gets a bit uncomfortable is at certain points in the chapters when she mentions her writing alienating those close to her, presumably due to her including them in the works. Obviously there's a conversation to be had around boundaries and oversharing when you're emotionally close to someone who makes their life public, in whole or in part. As the consumer, our assumption is that the creator has done the necessary work to have those conversations, avoid sensitive areas, and secure any necessary consent. But her admission that she'd run into troubles with this before left me uncertain, devoid of context, and feeling almost voyeuristic at times. I certainly hope nobody was harmed by any content included in this volume. But ultimately I'm not sure I trust that was the case, which left me feeling conflicted.
Time for The Question! Does the tarantula die? Some of the essays have to deal with her stepdaughter's pet tarantula.The tarantula survives just fine.
Every essay had an event or theme from her life being related to one or more lessons from a fairy tale. This might be a general musing on mothers and stepmothers in story and life, a discussion of hair loss being related to Rapunzel, or wicked wonderings about the role of mother-as-fairy as a child begins to lose their baby teeth. A few of them felt like they'd been a bit shoehorned, but most were interesting. I particularly enjoyed that she often cited multiple versions of the same story, noting where they differed and where they agreed in relation to the point she was making. The tales explored stayed largely within what we'd consider to be the western canon, which may be disappointing to some readers who were looking for more diversity. While there are frequently references to Jewish tradition, it's not quite the same thing.
The most distinct thing about the essays is their seamless blend of the real and the fantastical. She might be relating an event that happened to her, then suddenly halfway through the scene it begins to feel implausible, as if we've slipped sideways through the fabric of reality and wound up inside a story. It took me a few chapters to catch on and embrace this method of storytelling. There were a many times when I read along for several sentences, unsure whether I was in reality or fairyland. Ultimately I enjoyed it more than I didn't, but I know this won't be for everybody.
These are incredibly personal essays. She frequently discusses her family — parents, sister, husband, children, and step-children — which is to be expected in memoir. But where it gets a bit uncomfortable is at certain points in the chapters when she mentions her writing alienating those close to her, presumably due to her including them in the works. Obviously there's a conversation to be had around boundaries and oversharing when you're emotionally close to someone who makes their life public, in whole or in part. As the consumer, our assumption is that the creator has done the necessary work to have those conversations, avoid sensitive areas, and secure any necessary consent. But her admission that she'd run into troubles with this before left me uncertain, devoid of context, and feeling almost voyeuristic at times. I certainly hope nobody was harmed by any content included in this volume. But ultimately I'm not sure I trust that was the case, which left me feeling conflicted.
Time for The Question! Does the tarantula die? Some of the essays have to deal with her stepdaughter's pet tarantula.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Death, Emotional abuse, Antisemitism, Pandemic/Epidemic, and Cancer
Minor: Pregnancy and Racism
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