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I finished reading this memoir a few weeks ago and have been mulling it over in my mind since then, trying to decide what I want to say about it.
The problem is the one I always have when trying to discuss a book that is all about a real person by themselves. It’s almost impossible, unless you are going to be extraordinarily cautious, to talk about this sort of memoir without seeming to be reviewing the their life rather than how they have written about it.
So this might be a bit disjointed (why change the habit of a lifetime, I hear you ask).
First things first, Candia McWilliam is the author of three (I think) novels and a book of short stories. I have these in my possession and have read them all apart from (I think) the short stories. I really like her work, it’s difficult to describe in terms of style but the best way to put it I suppose is that it isn’t simple; she was often picked on by Private Eye for being pretentious, for example. So its been a real shame that she hasn’t published anything since the 1990s.
But What to Look for in Winter is really about the blindness which she developed from 2006, a condition called blepharospasm where vision isn’t impaired in terms of the eyes themselves, but you cannot open them. It’s about dealing with a condition that prevents her from indulging in the one thing that keeps her going – reading. It’s also about her life, her marriages, her children, her alcoholism, the things that influence her and what she goes through to find a way of seeing again, and the operations that are designed to allow her to open her eyes.
I found it incredibly moving and at times almost impossible to read because of her pain over her failed relationships and how she views herself, but it was also difficult to put down. It’s not what I would call a misery memoir, it’s hard going in places but it is also really worth persevering with, although the thing that stuck with me is how connected she still is with the past. She shares a bond with the fathers of her children which I understand but they are so heavily involved in her daily life, even before her blindness, in a way that I found very strange. I’m not sure I could keep such a close connection with people whom I had hurt or who had hurt me in the ways that she describes. But as I said at the beginning, not for me to judge, though i did get a bit impatient with her occasionally.
So rewarding, but not a light or easy read.
Postscript: an interesting review by Andrew Motion in The Guardian can be found here.
Time once again to mop my fevered brow as work has come to an end for three weeks at least and I am now on holiday. Which explains why it has been so quiet around here recently and as I tried to get myself in a good place with work responsibilities so that I could go off with as clear a conscience as possible.
And three Cosmopolitans in a nice hotel bar with one of my best friends on my last day certainly started me off on the right foot.
So apologies for not visiting blogs, not leaving comments (which I’m usually rubbish at anyway) and not posting recently. Will aim to clear my review backlog before I go, and will be taking my trusty laptop away with me so hope to blog my hols as I did last year.
And of course there is the book bag, which contains (in no particular order):
- Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger
- The Road by Cormac McCarthy (a Silvery Dude recommendation)
- The Behaviour of Moths by Poppy Adams
- The Looking Glass Wars by Frank Beddor
- Bone Song by John Meaney
- Snow White and the Seven Samurai by Tom Holt
- Bury Her Deep by Catriona McPherson
- The Girl who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest by Stieg Larsson
Which, when you add the book I’m currently reading (which is The Fleet Street Murders by Charles Finch) looks like a reasonable haul.
Hit the road tomorrow; Derbyshire here we come!