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patnatalie 's review for:

4.0

“But making the ugly hurt part human again is not an exercise for the well-meaning social worker in us.

This is the most dangerous work you can do. It is like bomb disposal but you are the bomb. That's the problem--the awful thing is you.”


I’m not usually one for memoirs, and picking this up I was convinced this was a “fake-memoir”, where the author’s goal is to explore situations, somewhat like On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.

Low and behold I started to understand that this novel is not in any way supposed to explore the effects of fake memories, but actually concerns true events.

“Creativity is on the side of health – it isn’t the thing that drives us mad; it is the capacity in us that tries to save us from madness.

Needless to say, it would’ve been better if this book had been false, not true, had never happened, because it truly is harrowing as to the childhood that it portrays.

Jeanette Winterson was put up for adoption at 6 months old, and taken in by a home ruled by Pentecostal Christians.

The book is mostly a meditation on her adopted mother, Mrs Winterson, who needless to say would be the last candidate for the Mother of the Year award.

"But as I try and understand how life works--and why some people cope better than others with adversity--I come back to something to do with saying yes to life, which is love of life, however inadequate, and love for the self, however found. Not in the me-first way that is the opposite of life and love, but with a salmon-like determination to swim upstream, however choppy upstream is, because this is your stream...”

It’s hard to put this book into words. It’s disjointed, raw, heartfelt, sad and absolutely true. You feel sad for everyone involved, for Jeanette, Mrs. Winterson and the father, who like many fathers takes on the "onlooker stance", also known as "I see it but I won't do anything about it."

This book in many ways is like many adoption stories. The protagonist doesn't know who she is, where she comes from, etc. etc. then sets out on a journey to find out, and realizes that her real mother can still somehow be less of a mother compared to the adopted mother that raised her, no matter how awfully.

"She hated being a nobody and like all children, adopted or not, I have had to live out some of her unlived life. We do that for our parents - we don't really have any choice."

Breaking away from the mold of the common adoption tropes, Jeanette doesn't feel the need to keep in contact with her real mother, or be part of her real family, after her adopted family had already passed.

Finding connection with a real parent decades after the fact rarely ends well, and after the initial amazement of seeing where you're from, the true colors of everyone start to come out. No matter how much of a biological parent someone is, it means little when they weren't there when they were supposed to be.

"We bury things so deep we no longer remember there was anything to bury. Our bodies remember. Our neurotic states remember. But we don't."