Monday, February 22, 2010


The last story in the Lies and Stories collection seems completely autobiographical. It begins with the scar that my mother had on her neck, the one left from where a large birthmark was removed when she was young. And the narrator notes that her thumbs are double jointed, just like my mother's and mine. It looks as if they are popping out of their sockets.

The story is broken into body parts: the throat, the voice, the hair, face and teeth, the hands and wrists, the feet. The story is methodical, calm, and even melancholy. But also strong.

The last line is powerful: "And now I often feel free enough not to smile." I respond, in general , "Yes! That's it!" A piece of wisdom for those who feel the need to please, especially for women. Though this story was written at least 30 years before, I remember my mother saying, just six months before she died, "I am supposed to feel sad right now." She was right. What else could she have felt?

No comments:

Post a Comment