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An asthma memoir which was inexplicably the only book I had with me in the doctor's office the other day, after I bought it for a quarter at Out of the Closet thrift shop. (All thrift shops are frequently excellent sources for obscure and very cheap new books, but ones which raise money for gay causes tend to have particularly good selections. The Jewish Women's thrift shop, on the other hand, tends to have the best clothes.)
Memoirs are difficult to review without reviewing the author as well. Like the author, (frequently) like the book; dislike the author, (usually) dislike the book, but feel guilty about saying why. Illness memoirs, like childhood abuse memoirs, are particularly difficult to write honest negative reviews of, because no one wants to write "This memoir about death by leprosy suffers from the author being a whiny, self-involved, pretentious git."
Asthma is a very serious illness. People die from it. It can seriously limit people's lives. I understand this and sympathize with it. So I blame DeSalvo's writing style for making her seem like a whiny, self-involved, pretentious git when she describes how her asthma, which she acquired as an adult, transformed her into a shut-in who can't go to a restaurant because someone might be wearing perfume and the food might contain MSG or preservatives, or drive in a car because the fumes might choke her, or go to a beauty salon because someone might be getting a manicure, or read a newspaper because it might emit toxic ink fumes.
I was struggling not to be judgmental, but then I got to the part where DeSalvo takes several pages to conjugate the sentences "I have asthma," "I am an asthmatic," and so forth. I mean this literally-- she draws diagrams pointing out the subject and the predicate and so forth.
"The angled line that indicates the predicate adjective marks too close a connection between me and asthma. It's like a little slingshot, flinging the word 'asthmatic' back at me."
This, I have no qualms about being judgmental about. I judge it to be incredibly pretentious.
And then there's her conclusion:
"What I believe we need to do to stop the alarming increase in the number of asthma cases:
1. Stop abusing the planet. Clean up the air.
2. Stop abusing our children, stop terrorizing them, stop sexually abusing them.
3. Stop trauma. (This includes stopping war.)"
Behold the power of writing: In four sentences, DeSalvo makes three of my most passionately held beliefs about what's wrong with the world and what we should do to fix it look really, really stupid.
Note: Beliefs I hold in general, I mean. I don't think the second two have all that much to do with asthma.
Note: Is it just me, or is my "Ed among the ignorant" icon all-to-frequently appropriate of late?
Memoirs are difficult to review without reviewing the author as well. Like the author, (frequently) like the book; dislike the author, (usually) dislike the book, but feel guilty about saying why. Illness memoirs, like childhood abuse memoirs, are particularly difficult to write honest negative reviews of, because no one wants to write "This memoir about death by leprosy suffers from the author being a whiny, self-involved, pretentious git."
Asthma is a very serious illness. People die from it. It can seriously limit people's lives. I understand this and sympathize with it. So I blame DeSalvo's writing style for making her seem like a whiny, self-involved, pretentious git when she describes how her asthma, which she acquired as an adult, transformed her into a shut-in who can't go to a restaurant because someone might be wearing perfume and the food might contain MSG or preservatives, or drive in a car because the fumes might choke her, or go to a beauty salon because someone might be getting a manicure, or read a newspaper because it might emit toxic ink fumes.
I was struggling not to be judgmental, but then I got to the part where DeSalvo takes several pages to conjugate the sentences "I have asthma," "I am an asthmatic," and so forth. I mean this literally-- she draws diagrams pointing out the subject and the predicate and so forth.
"The angled line that indicates the predicate adjective marks too close a connection between me and asthma. It's like a little slingshot, flinging the word 'asthmatic' back at me."
This, I have no qualms about being judgmental about. I judge it to be incredibly pretentious.
And then there's her conclusion:
"What I believe we need to do to stop the alarming increase in the number of asthma cases:
1. Stop abusing the planet. Clean up the air.
2. Stop abusing our children, stop terrorizing them, stop sexually abusing them.
3. Stop trauma. (This includes stopping war.)"
Behold the power of writing: In four sentences, DeSalvo makes three of my most passionately held beliefs about what's wrong with the world and what we should do to fix it look really, really stupid.
Note: Beliefs I hold in general, I mean. I don't think the second two have all that much to do with asthma.
Note: Is it just me, or is my "Ed among the ignorant" icon all-to-frequently appropriate of late?
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I mean, the other reasons for stopping war, pollution, and child abuse were not enough, but if it causes asthma, that's different.
Do you know Steven Brust's "War Is Bad"? It's such a fun song.
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But anyway, the gist of the song is that, wow, he just had this amazing revelation: "Last night as I lay in a doze on my bed
A remarkable notion came into my head
The most shocking thought that I've ever had:
The realization that war is bad.
[chorus] War is bad, peace is good
Never use plastic if you can use wood
Be kind to strangers, give good jobs to vets
Recycle glass bottles, spay/neuter your pets."
It goes on from there about why on earth did no one ever think of this brilliant idea before.
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Everyone deals with chronic illness in different ways. But when you choose to write a memoir, you kind of open yourself up to this sort of analysis--and the same sort of understandable whininess that might earn deserved sympathy from your friends doesn't necessarily work for strangers.
Besides, there are real metaphoric possibilities--both funny and serious--in the whole business of needing to find one's breath, and a better memoir would have known this, and used it, instead of doing that stupid conjugation trick.
(The whole business of how we all cope with chronic health issues is fascinating. I think it's something I'm still trying to understand.)
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Well, given the title, maybe she did some of that.
Was trying to say she had a subject that actually had real memoir possibilities, and it sounds like she very much failed to use them.
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...and yes, the world has been full of flaming stupid lately. Gyah.
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http://sinfest.net/d/20050528.html
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Although I do have sympathy for asthmatic people, she really comes across whinny. Probably the type of person who drives all her friends and family insane.
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You can never have too much Ed.