
Title | : | Laughing at the Dark: a memoir |
Author | : | |
Rating | : | |
ISBN | : | - |
Language | : | English |
Format Type | : | Kindle Edition |
Number of Pages | : | 460 |
Publication | : | Published April 4, 2023 |
By the time she was in her forties, Barbara was married to a globally recognised academic physician and had two beautiful teenage daughters. As her writing career developed, her husband became angry at the prospect of her being anything but a housewife. In a moment of madness — or realisation — she packed her car and took off to live with the man who would become her second husband.
With her trademark wit and humour, Barbara poignantly describes her transformation from a shy but stubborn child into a fulfilled and successful adult.
‘I laughed and laughed, and I cried and cried. It’s got everything in it except a murder.’ — Lesley Graham, soprano (and totally unbiased sister)
Laughing at the Dark: a memoir Reviews
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! omg
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There is much to love here. Else always delivers elegant prose and - even apart from its admirable subject matter - this memoir offers fabulous movement through time and space. It has all the intensity and immediacy afforded by first-person, present-tense. It's clearly written by a master story-teller.
The book has parts instead of chapters, with irresistible lower-case titles like "husbandry," "husbandry too," and my all-time favorite "shark goggles."
The first two parts take us from early childhood to marriage with children and a stint in San Diego. Part three opens with a great leap in time: "A week before starting chemotherapy I think, If I'm going to keep on with this memoir . . . I have to read the letters I wrote . . . while Jim and I were in California." For a few paragraphs I watch, breathless, as Else pages through the letters her mother has saved. Then - Just as I'm relishing an intimate look at the writer in action - boom, I'm in a plane that's "dropping lower over the suburbs." Now there's some narrative magic.
Somewhere in the middle, despite the interesting time leaps, I start losing interest. Chemotherapy has limited fascination, besides I know she survived to write the book. (Isn't that all that matters?) She and Jim manage a civilized divorce around the time their children are launched and Barbara moves in with her lover, fellow writer Chris Else. Life begins anew. Her writing flourishes. She travels. Moves from house to house. Makes interesting literary friends. Serves on committees. Encounters rude people. It's a familiar story: success achieved through talent, networking, and hard work.
At the end, the story loops back to linger on a cherished moment; a pandemic-era gathering of literary friends. This move (also found in poet laureate Tracy Smith's memoir, Ordinary Light) is a lovely way to close the narrative. It leaves the reader with a delicious sense of life's promise and fragility. -
I loved this trip through recent New Zealand history and Barbara Else's dawning realization of the impact of patriarchy in her life and her first marriage.