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A review by jessdekkerreads
Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? by Jeanette Winterson
5.0
๐๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ด ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ด๐ค๐ถ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฎ๐ฆ. ๐๐ง ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ต๐ณ๐บ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ข ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ฆ, ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ด๐ฆ๐ญ๐ท๐ฆ๐ด ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ต๐ด. ๐๐ต ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ด๐ต ๐ฑ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ช๐ฐ๐ถ๐ด ๐ ๐ฃ๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ด ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ช๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ง๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ข๐ต๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. ๐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ญ.
In this memoir Winterson reflects on her youth, growing up in a Pentecostal household with adoptive parents, how their treatment shaped who she was, who she became, how she came to be a writer, and how books freed her. Her early years spent with an adoptive mother, (whom she refers to as Mrs. Winterson), who would often remind her that โ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ถ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ ๐ค๐ณ๐ช๐ฃโ, a woman who would lock her out of the house in the cold, a woman who was unaccepting of her daughterโs love and desire for women. โ And when you hit that page, when you learn why the memoir is titled Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? โ itโll have you holding the book close to your heart. โ Jeanette recounts her pursuit for the truth, of who she was, who she came from, and why she was given up.
I stumbled on this memoir blindly, feeling lost when I finished one book, and found myself back in my hometown, without a book in hand, immediately browsing, searching Libby for an ebook to keep me company through the rest of my stay, exploring all the queer author recommendations, and suddenly, Winterson appeared.
Staying with my mother-in-law at the time I started this book was pure kismet. This is a woman whom I previously helped search extensively for any clues we could find into her own past, translating German documents, scouring online archives, to find any information we could about her biological parents, which ultimately led to her finding and meeting her biological father. As I read passages from Wintersonโs memoir, I began highlighting, stopping, and relaying pieces of the text to my mother-in-law, who felt such a connection to Wintersonโs words: โ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ด ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐บ ๐ข๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ช๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ณ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ตโ๐ด ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ธ ๐ฑ๐ข๐จ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.โ
This memoir has quickly become a favorite memoir of all time for me, one I wonโt soon forget. And now Iโm on a journey to read anything and everything Winterson has ever written, starting first with Written on the Body.
In this memoir Winterson reflects on her youth, growing up in a Pentecostal household with adoptive parents, how their treatment shaped who she was, who she became, how she came to be a writer, and how books freed her. Her early years spent with an adoptive mother, (whom she refers to as Mrs. Winterson), who would often remind her that โ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ๐ท๐ช๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ถ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ ๐ค๐ณ๐ช๐ฃโ, a woman who would lock her out of the house in the cold, a woman who was unaccepting of her daughterโs love and desire for women. โ And when you hit that page, when you learn why the memoir is titled Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? โ itโll have you holding the book close to your heart. โ Jeanette recounts her pursuit for the truth, of who she was, who she came from, and why she was given up.
I stumbled on this memoir blindly, feeling lost when I finished one book, and found myself back in my hometown, without a book in hand, immediately browsing, searching Libby for an ebook to keep me company through the rest of my stay, exploring all the queer author recommendations, and suddenly, Winterson appeared.
Staying with my mother-in-law at the time I started this book was pure kismet. This is a woman whom I previously helped search extensively for any clues we could find into her own past, translating German documents, scouring online archives, to find any information we could about her biological parents, which ultimately led to her finding and meeting her biological father. As I read passages from Wintersonโs memoir, I began highlighting, stopping, and relaying pieces of the text to my mother-in-law, who felt such a connection to Wintersonโs words: โ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ ๐ฅ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ด ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ต๐ฐ๐ณ๐บ ๐ข๐ง๐ต๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ช๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ณ๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ. ๐๐ตโ๐ด ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต ๐ง๐ฆ๐ธ ๐ฑ๐ข๐จ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ฎ๐ช๐ด๐ด๐ช๐ฏ๐จ.โ
This memoir has quickly become a favorite memoir of all time for me, one I wonโt soon forget. And now Iโm on a journey to read anything and everything Winterson has ever written, starting first with Written on the Body.