The Guardians: An Elegy by Sarah Manguso

The Guardians: An Elegy by Sarah Manguso
 
Release Date: February 28th 2012
Pages: 128
Format: Hardcover
Source: Publisher
Publisher:  Farrar, Straus and Giroux
Also by this Author: The Two Kinds of Decay
Buy It: Book Depository

The Guardians is an elegy for Manguso’s friend Harris, two years after he escaped from a psychiatric hospital and jumped under that train. The narrative contemplates with unrelenting clarity their crowded postcollege apartment, Manguso’s fellowship year in Rome, Harris’s death and the year that followed—the year of mourning and the year of Manguso’s marriage.

So the first thing I want to talk about is what I was afraid of when I first picked up The Guardians; and that was that it might get bogged down in science instead of lifted up by poetry, something Manguso's first memoir The Two Kinds of Decay suffered from a bit too much. And unfortunately it does, sometimes veering into too much fact, like describing side effects of certain anti-psychotics, going into a detailed history of akathisia, even quoting two paragraphs directly from a Czech doctor, Ladislav Haskovec. At the end of the description she links it back to her friend Harris, as the common outcome includes suicide, specifically by jumping, but by that point I was wondering why I was reading all of this info dump of facts.

The other major time info-dump happened was much later in the book, where there are several pages quoting three published cases on the same side effect. The Guardians is so short, barely past 100 pages, so that in a way I felt cheated having to read three full pages that weren't Manguso's; more science, more quotes. She even quotes herself at one point, a page from a novel she didn't finish.

But– the reason I felt the need to detail the fault of this memoir so precisely is that the rest of The Guardians, the part in Manguso's own words, it's absolutely breath-taking and original. There are countless times when I had to pause reading to write down a quote, something beautiful and heart-breaking that twisted inside me. At one point, Manguso writes:

"Then, when he dies, you’ll wonder how his death could have burned you entirely away– yet there you are, walking out of the fire in a form you no longer recognize."

Her powerful description of grief reminded me sometimes of The Long Goodbye by Meghan O'Rourke, another memoir and one I absolutely adored. Both O'Rourke and Manguso have this powerful, sharp and broken way of describing grief, of reminding the reader of the pain. The other author that comes to mind, because of the topic but also the fragmented way of writing, different memories combining into one tragic story– is Joan Didion, who dealt with grief in two memoirs, The Year of Magical Thinking and Blue Nights. It especially reminds me of Blue Nights because it is both the story of the person who died, in this case her friend Harris, and a story of a personal journey– as Manguso marries her husband.

Ultimately, Manguso's poetic prose is what make The Guardians such a wonderful yet heart-breaking book– she has a genuine and beautiful way of capturing moments and feelings, which is why I am disappointed every time she veers off into the scientific instead.

Every You, Every Me by David Levithan

Every You, Every Me by David Levithan

Release Date: September 13th 2011
Pages: 245
Format: Hardcover
Source: Publisher
Publisher: Random House Canada
Buy It: Book Depository

Evan starts to discover a series of unnerving photographs—some of which feature him. Worse, ever since his best friend Ariel has been gone, he's been unable to sleep, spending night after night torturing himself for his role in her absence. And as crazy as it sounds, Evan's starting to believe it's Ariel that's behind all of this, punishing him. But the more Evan starts to unravel the mystery, the more his paranoia and insomnia amplify, and the more he starts to unravel himself.

I absolutely adored the last two books I read by David Levithan (The Lover's Dictionary and Will Grayson, Will Grayson), so I was pretty excited to pick up his latest– a novel inspired by a set of haunting photographs taken my Jonathan Farmer and e-mailed to him one at a time as he wrote the book. The premise was also intriguing, but although I didn't dislike Every You, Every Me, I was disappointed I couldn't fall in love with it either.

The use of strike out when writing is sometimes effective, I appreciated it in Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson for example, but I found it mostly distracting here. The writing is sparse but has an impact, and the book is a lot darker than anything I've read by Levithan before (for example, Boy Meets Boy) but feels genuine. Every You, Every Me takes on some important issues, though I won't be more specific to avoid spoiling it, and it does so with eloquence and authenticity. The novel itself is just as eerie as the cover would indicate.

Every You, Every Me is filled with the kind of angst and emotional struggle I probably would have had more appreciation for if I'd been reading the book as a teen, instead of in my early twenties. I felt very disconnected from all the characters in this book, and therefore wasn't invested in what happened to them, or had happened to them. YA is usually a genre that I love, even if I'm not in the intended age bracket, but maybe teens would better relate to Every You, Every Me than I did. Of course, I'm certainly not giving up on Levithan– I just won't be rereading this specific book of his.

Swing Low by Miriam Toews

Swing Low is the story of Miriam Toews' father, a man who suffered his whole life from bipolar disorder, keeping his struggles almost entirely to himself as he went against his psychiatrist's predictions that he wouldn't marry, start a family, or hold down a job. Instead, Mel Toews spent a forty years as a respected teacher, married his lifelong sweetheart, and had two happy and successful daughters. Then, after suffering a heart attack which limited the oxygen to his brain causing permanent damage, Mel was forced to retire from teaching, a job that had been as much an escape as a career. Finally, in 1998, he had himself released from the hospital and jumped in front of an incoming train.

With Swing Low Toews has written the story of the brilliant yet troubled man that her father was, how he would be outgoing and vibrant in the classroom only to remain in complete silence and despair at home. Bipolar disorder meant there were two sides to Mel, the manic and the depressive, and as Toews tries to come to terms with both her father's life and death, she attempts to bridge the gap in between the person her father was, and the person he tried so hard to be.

Like Half-Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls, Swing Low is more of a True Life Novel than a traditional memoir or biography. Written almost entirely in the first person from Mel's perspective- with the exception of a short introduction and epilogue- Toews truly lets the reader in on not only the experiences, but the emotions they provoked. I read this memoir after finishing Toews' latest novel, Irma Voth, and was shocked by the difference between the two. Although both take place in a Mennonite community, Swing Low is far more emotional and evocative, while Irma Voth tells a clearer and more distinct story. At first, and for many pages, I found myself very confused by the scattered narrative of Swing Low, the story begins with Mel in his hospital bed, slightly insane from dementia and trying to figure out what is going on. To do so, he goes back through his life, connecting the events that brought him to that moment together. As could be expected with a crazy narrator, sometimes he is quite difficult to follow and so it took a long time for me to get involved in the story. Even though Toews is taking on the voice of her father, it definitely felt genuine, and it's clear she didn't paint him in an idealistic light but instead Mel remains human and flawed. He was a man that tried very hard, but that didn't mean he was perfect.

Ultimately, I feel conflicted over this book. On one hand, it is a rich and inventive look into the mind of mental illness, especially in when it occurs in a not entirely understanding time or culture, which is both unique and believable. But at the same time, sometimes the book was too believable, in that I really felt like it was written by an insane person which made it difficult and not entirely enjoyable to read. Overall, Swing Low is a unique and insightful look into living with mental illness and although I found it confusing at times, it is a strong testament to Mel Toews and a reminder that no matter who we are, our parents remain a part of us.

Release Date: May 28th 2000
Pages: 240
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This review was a part of TLC Book Tours. Click here to read what other tour hosts thought. For the purpose of this review I was provided with a copy of the book which did not require a positive review. The opinions expressed in this post are completely my own.

The Rules of the Tunnel by Ned Zeman

The Rules of the Tunnel: A Brief Period of Madness is a memoir by Ned Zeman, a journalist for Vanity Fair who profiled various troubled celebrities until one day he became victim of the same madness that had plagued so many of them. Intertwined with biographical insight into the lives of the people Zeman wrote about is his own personal account of his illness and how it impacted his relationships, work and friendships. In the second half the memoir Zeman attempts to reconstruct what happened during the two years of his life he can't remember, two years of memories stolen as a side effect of electroconvulsive therapy, and having made it to the other side of the tunnel he does so with intelligence and a dark sense of humor about his experiences.

I'm pretty much on the fence about The Rules of the Tunnel, in some ways it is unconventional- even considering it's a memoir about mental illness- and yet in other ways I found it slightly infuriating. Zeman even admits that the electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) has left him worse off than he was before and while he is still writing in support of the practice, there still seems to be a good reason that it is only used in extreme cases. In Zeman's case he seemed to search purposefully for a therapist that would give him the answer he wanted, whether that be a cocktail of drugs or an electrical charge to his brain. As a journalist, Zeman is used to investigating, and after reading and writing about so many other people; famous, creative, people; who underwent the treatment it seems like he treated it more as if it were an experiment, or a fun way to spend a Wednesday, than with the seriousness it deserved. He also, as he admits in the book, didn't really take full of advantage of the other options available to those with mental illness, mainly drugs and therapy, and instead seemed interested in a quick fix. I'm not saying he wasn't depressed, he clearly was, but he seemed to take pride in outsmarting his therapists in a way that was pretty disturbing. A positive consequence of his memoir is that I am certain nobody who reads it will take ECT as lightly as he did.

Another issue I had with the conclusion of the book involved a breakup that happened during Zeman's illness and which he attributed to his madness, before recognizing that the couple were ill-fated either way. Although the reader knows from the beginning that the couple will break up, considering he just spent an entire book talking about how great the woman was, I was left pretty puzzled by his final assessment about their long-term possibility and I feel that if he was going to say that, he should have backed it up at some point in the book.

One of the unique aspects of The Rules of the Tunnel is that Zeman wrote it in second person singular (ie: You wake up in the morning) a style I've rarely seen in literature, although the book that stands out most in my mind is Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney. In this case, the technique seems to be used to truly make the reader feel as if they are experiencing the horror, and yet sometimes unintended benefits, of amnesia. I think it also helps show how mental illness can impact anyone. That said, I didn't particularly enjoy the style.

Although my discussion of the memoir has been fairly critical, I think that helps to show some of the controversial issues the book brings up. However, what left me mostly on the fence about the book is the second half in which Zeman is open, honest, and raw about how these experiences changed him. His loss of memory was unusual, but extremely scary and I certainly recommend the book to anyone interested in knowing more about ECT, especially from the perspective of somebody who has experienced a severe side of it. It is impossible to view what madness is like from the outside, and with  The Rules of the Tunnel Zeman adds to the reader's understanding of how the brain works, and what happens when it doesn't quite function as intended.

Release Date: August 4th, 2011
Pages: 288
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This review was a part of TLC Book Tours. Click here to read what other tour hosts thought. For the purpose of this review I was provided with a copy of the book which did not require a positive review. The opinions expressed in this post are completely my own.

History of a Suicide by Jill Bialosky

"The most mysterious part of grief is that you think you can will it away."

History of a Suicide: My Sister's Unfinished Life is Jill Bialosky's reflection on her sister's life, a girl who killed herself when she was only twenty two and who's family has mourned her for decades. Bialosky tells her own personal story including her struggle with miscarriages and accepting her sister's death, but also delves into the life of her sister, Kim, and what events may have lead up to her suicide. In addition, Bialosky reflects on suicide in general, talking to specialists in the field and referencing writing on the topic.

When I read An Exclusive Love by Johanna Adorjan, I felt the author was too far detached from her grandparents to have the intended impact when discussing their suicide. I was really surprised then, when History of a Suicide did not leave me with the same feeling. I think the difference is that in this book, Bialosky deals not only with the events leading up to her sister's death, but also how it impacted her own life, looking at suicide from a more general context and allowing her to reflect on the impact it has on those it leaves behind, as well as attempting to answer why people choose to commit suicide at all. Bialosky doesn't pretend to have any answers, but what she does offer is a beautifully written testament to the legacy her sister Kim left behind, both the happy and the sad memories.

The most powerful aspect of History of a Suicide is the writing, such crystal clear beauty that I was not surprised when I learned that Bialosky is also a poet. Although I had not heard of her before she does include several relevant poems of hers in the book which share the same stark imagery although tend be more abstract. Many of her phrases weaved their way into my mind, especially when she talked about why she was writing this book at all. The book includes powerful descriptions such as:

"The page has been my container, my ship; my words my compass; my memory my harpoon in my desire to wrest coherence from the unwieldy material of personal truth."

Some of my favourite excerpts come from Bialosky's writing on writing, including:

"Formulating our own words about our lives translates our interior hieroglyphics into the stories we tell ourselves to make events from our pasts more understandable, give them shape and meaning, organize the chaos of the unconscious where we most often dwell."

History of a Suicide is also littered with poems and excerpts from famous works on suicide, Bialosky references everything from Shakespeare to Sylvia Plath to a nature documentary she once watched. In this way, the message that suicide is everywhere, it is a universal pain that cannot be truly understood until it is experience, is re-enforced with startling clarity. By the time Bialosky shares her sister's suicide note the book is almost over. I had been waiting for it, anxiously, perhaps wanting to see if it shared a clue into why she killed herself. When the reader finally reaches it, it is instead absolutely heartbreaking and tragic, simple and short, she sounds so much still like a little girl. A little girl who never had the chance to grow up. 

Ultimately, History of a Suicide is completely unique in that it contains memoir of Bialosky's life including the years she spent with her sister, as well hypothesis on the events leading up to Kim's death. Also included are excerpts from Kim's diary and schoolwork, as well as lists of things such as what was in her closet when she died. In addition, Bialosky reflects on suicide in literature as well as including discussion on the science behind suicide and what a person can do when they think somebody is at risk: ask. The end result of History of a Suicide is both incredibly personal and universal, leaving the reader with the powerfully true message, that despite all Bialosky has written, "the dialogue we have with the dead is never ending."

Release Date: February 15th, 2011
Pages: 272
Overall: 4/5
Source: E-galley from publisher
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Half in Love: Surviving the Legacy of Suicide by Linda Gray Sexton

"Depression is a country with no borders."

Linda Gray Sexton grew up with a mother- Pulitzer prize winning poet, Anne Sexton- who repeatedly tried to kill herself, shuffling her two daughters off to various relatives when she hospitalized. Eventually, Anne succeeded, leaving behind a legacy which would severely impact the life of her daughter, a fact discussed in Linda Gray Sexton's second memoir, Half in Love: Surviving the Legacy of Suicide. After experiencing firsthand the agony of loosing a parent to suicide, Sexton vowed never to follow in her mother's footsteps. Yet at forty-five she found herself in a deep depression, attempting to kill herself multiple times despite the fact that she was a daughter, sister, wife, and most significantly, a mother.

Half in Love is a memoir painful in its details of Sexton's struggle to find mental health and create her own legacy. Although it deals lightly with Sexton's earlier years, specifically her relationship with her mother and the impact the suicide had on her, the focus is on the years after her first memoir Searching for Mercy Street: My Journey Back to My Mother, Anne Sexton which was published in 1994. In fact, despite having published four novels in her earlier years, Half in Love is Sexton's first publication since 1994. In the subsequent years she began, somehow subconsciously, to repeat her mother's life. Like the rest of her family, as well as so many others, Sexton saw her mother's suicide as selfish, as an indication that her daughters were not enough, their love was not enough. Writing about her mother's suicide attempts, Sexton says:

"But to us, her suicide attempts seemed just bids for pity and sympathy: it was better to think she was merely being self-indulgent than to understand she wanted to leave us all for good, or that she in excruciating turmoil."

However once she began to deal with depression and bipolar illness herself , Sexton realized that was not the case. Her pain was so great, suicide seemed to be the only option. The only solution was an extremely long and arduous journey including a combination of the right medication and therapy. In Half in Love, Sexton is not shy about sharing the truth of her illness, including the years she was unable to get out of bed so severe was her depression and the pain she caused her sons who continued to fear for her life. The book provides a raw and blistering look into her pain, it is an honest confession which allows readers the opportunity to take a peak into the dark "rabbit hole" which may lead someone to commit suicide. In Half in Love Sexton deals with the idea that even as much as part of her wanted a normal life, she was still partly in love with the glamour of her mother's existence, "half in love" with the dark demons, and the close relationship they had when she was alive left Sexton almost unwillingly stepping into her mother's shoes.

"Unconsciously, my mother had bequeathed to me two entirely unique legacies, and they were inextricably and mysteriously entwined: the compulsion to create with words, as well as the compulsion to stare down into the abyss of suicide. Both compulsions have been with me for as long as I can remember."

The second legacy left to Sexton, her writing, is obvious in Half in Love, as the memoir is beautifully written and descriptive. As a survivor of suicide herself, Sexton is uniquely posed to provide insight into what leads a person to such extreme actions and what can help be done to prevent repeat attempts. In Sexton's case, it was mere chance that saved her life, but it is a lot of help in the form of medication, therapy, and support from family that has prevented her from trying to take it again. Sexton has done an incredible job of delving into her own painful experiences in a way which forces the reader not to dismiss the legacy of suicide as well as better understand what it is like for an individual forced to confront the kind of demons which Sexton has. Half in Love is an intimate and powerful portrayal of the impact suicide can have not only an individual, but also on those they leave behind, and with it Sexton has written an extremely poignant memoir on an incredibly difficult subject.

Note: This book contains some very graphic descriptions of behaviours like cutting which may be triggering for individuals who have suffered recently.

Release Date: January 11th, 2011
Pages: 336
Overall: 4.5/5
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This review was a part of TLC Book Tours. Click here to read what other tour hosts thought. For the purpose of this review I was provided with a copy of the book which did not require a positive review. The opinions expressed in this post are completely my own. 

Henry's Demons by Patrick Cockburn and Henry Cockburn

"At first I looked at Henry's schizophrenia as a disease which either would or would not to be cured. But everything to do with Henry's illness appears to be more fluid and less predictable to me now than it once did. Today I see it more as a disorder of the mind, which is very difficult to eliminate but can perhaps be confined to a corner of Henry's mind and will no longer be the driving force in his personality and his actions that it once was."

Henry's Demons: Living with Schizophrenia, A Father and Son's Story by Patrick Cockburn and Henry Cockburn is exactly what the byline says, a shared memoir taking place over the last decade as one young man struggled with an incredibly powerful mental illness. Henry's Demons is told in chapters of alternating perspectives, including one shared chapter and one chapter which contains a significant excerpt from the journal of Henry's mother Jan.

It is significant that Patrick's name comes first on the cover, as this is firstly a story told from a father's perspective. Far more of the book is told from Patrick's viewpoint.He is a journalist and the writing is often concise but unemotional. Henry's Demons becomes full of both anecdotes- which are kinda interesting though not directly related to the story- and scientific statistics and quotes, despite the fact that Patrick himself writes that many apparently hard facts about schizophrenia are dubious. As somebody in the scientific field myself I can appreciate the value of "hard" evidence, but when reading a memoir what I am looking for is the emotional and personal experience, not a lot of lists about how many people suffer from schizophrenia and how underfunded and misunderstood the disease is compared to physical ailments.

I appreciated the value of Patrick's chapters mainly because they gave context to what Henry has written. As somebody who is still gravely impacted by his mental illness, Henry is able to give incredible insight into the condition and how the world seems to him- not looking back on and reflecting on its absurdity but often still being unaware of where the real world ends and his schizophrenia begins. Henry's chapters are vivid and slightly painful to read, and throughout the memoir the reader cannot help but wish there was something to do to help him, some easy way to save him. But of course there is not. Ultimately, Henry's Demons, provides a scary and real reminder of the fact that despite how far humans have come, despite how many physical ailments are now preventable and curable, there still remains the genuine mystery of the human mind.

Release Date: February 1, 2011
Pages: 256
Overall: 3/5
Source: E-galley from publisher
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The Memory Palace by Mira Bartok

"Finally, I have built a palace within my palace, made from bits of colored sand. One breath could sweep it all away. It is protected by blue waves and wire, by elephants and incandescent shells, lotus flowers and horses, cryptic words and prayers. But the palace cannot possibly last; it will, like everything else, eventually disappear. It is the essence of memory, ephemeral as sleep, unsettled as the sea."

In The Memory Palace: A Memoir Mira Bartok tells her story of growing up with a schizophrenic mother and absent father, as well as her subsequent estrangement from her mother who she communicated with only through letters, going so far as to move and change her name. Bartok and her sister were forced to do this because otherwise their mother would show up at their place of work, call the police about them incessantly, and otherwise harass them. Bartok finally visits her mother only to learn that she is dying of cancer, as they say goodbye to the woman they could never really know, she and her sister go through their mother's boxes of belongings and incoherent journals. Bartok tries to understand her mother, reflecting on the moments that brought her to where she is today, including her mother, the men in her life, and a serious brain injury.

With so many well done memoirs about mental illness and personal struggles in recent years (A Glass Castle and Madness come to mind) that it becomes painfully obvious when I am indifferent to one. I am not indifferent to the challenges Bartok has face, which are immense and which she has shown great strength in overcoming, but ultimately as a book The Memory Palace failed to engage me. The book included far too many irrelevant details and information about the author's love life which blurred together in my head. In addition to boring and irrelevant anecdotes about the men she once loved, there was also a lot of information about things like the nurse that looked after her grandmother. There were also quite a few instances of rambling on art and other historical facts which while they may have been interesting to Bartok felt like a good editor would have cut them out.

In the end, it seemed as if there wasn't enough material in The Memory Palace with so much of it being irrelevant filler. In The Memory Palace Bartok tried to combine a personal story about dealing with a brain injury along with a separate and distinct story about her mother, and I never found that the two narratives connected. I also never really found myself at all interested in the brain injury portion, as I also feel other authors have dealt with that much better and in this case it only seemed like half an effort. The Memory Palace is not a total failure, as the premise is intriguing, and there are certain moments of beauty and lovely imagery. Bartok is also an artist and the book contains an image of an original and relevant piece of art with each chapter, which are gorgeous. However The Memory Palace is a memoir which is simply too easy to put down, and ultimately a book needs more than a good premise to make it remarkable.  

Release Date: January 11, 2011    
Pages: 336
Overall: 2/5
Source: E-galley from publisher
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