{Review #12} Two (excellent) memoirs that also hit insanely close to home

I am not an avid reader of graphic novels, but when I pick one up, I tend to gravitate towards graphic nonfiction and in particular, memoirs.

Almost four years ago I checked out a contemporary classic of the genre, Alison Bechdel's Fun Home, which would go on to become an award winning musical (and if that isn't wonderfully campy, I don't know what is).

This month, not only did I revisit this gem, but I followed it up with its fascinating sequel Are You My Mother?, and it absolutely gutted me.

Allow me to share that wonderful experience with you. 

Full disclosure, I was unimpressed with Fun Home the first time around. I thought it was clever but lost steam halfway through. Looking back, I think I was both not that interested in memoirs and not in the right mindset for such a quiet story—and yet, the book endured in my memory. Every once in a while it would come to my mind, and I would reflect on how interesting it had actually been. It is no wonder, then, that upon this second reading I found a lot more to love and declared myself a fan. 

Basically, Fun Home is the story of Bechdel's relationship with her dead father, who might or might not have committed suicide. Like Bechdel, her father was same-sex attracted (though whether gay or bi or something else is unclear), but unlike Bechdel, he got married and relegated this aspect of his self to not-so-secret affairs with teenage boys. Though sexuality is a central aspect, it is not the only one: affection and lack thereof, family history, and how for better or worse we get to become the people we are, are also main themes. All is brought together through literary parallels, as both Bechdel's parents were English teachers and avid readers, and the book's exploration is all the more fascinating for it. The style is cartoonish and simple, but effective—my sweet spot with nonfiction graphic novels.

Are You My Mother? is the meta-narrative of Bechdel struggling to write Fun Home, while also trying to come to terms with her complex relationship with her mother through therapy and psychoanalysis. By comparison, it is much slower and not as obviously compelling. And yet, it moved me even more profoundly. This might be partly because of my own convoluted relationship with my mother, but  it's also because I found Bechdel's unapologetically over-analytical approach relatable and interesting. It is rare when such a self-indulgent book is also that well constructed and successful overall. I can understand why it might not appeal to all people the same way (it's a dense cerebral book with not much payoff plot-wise), but for those of us it grabs, it grabs us hard and doesn't let go. It's been almost a week since I finished it and I'm still under its claws... and I fear I won't ever be released. 

I think Bechdel's biggest strength is that her art is the complement of extremely accomplished writing. Her willingness to explore (even exploit) her own complexities, oddities, and shortcomings might be harsh on herself but definitely makes for great narrative. I am certainly looking forward to see what else she releases in the future.

In addition to encouraging you to pick up both of these, I would like this entry to convince you of the power of rereading. Of course, revisiting books is a dangerous game: you might find upon a second read that you despise what you once held dear, or are unimpressed by what once seemed so excited. But such is the providence of art. You might also uncover new layers of meanings, rekindle all loves, fan flames that lay dormant in your heart.

After all, one's experience with a book is so much more than just the reading of it. It's the effects it has on us as readers, our memories of it, how we talk about them with others, how it affects subsequent reads, and, yes, our rereads of it.

So go ahead and read these... over and over again, even. I know I will, at least.

PS. As you may know, I have been trying to reread at least one book every month, which has been a  mostly successful project and you can read about it in my ideal month entries.