It is a December morning here in Perth. We are preparing for the time when we come together with family to celebrate another year passing. I wake to a welcomed downpour that will keep the garden going. The sun is out now and the morning slipped away with the various domestic things that absorb my time these days.I am thinking about the books I have been reading as I bundle up my most recent to return to the library.
I have just read “A Trick of the Light “ Carolyn Polizzotto Fremantle Arts Press 2001.
The fly reads “Why are so many baby boomers choosing to write memoirs while still in their fifties? I wondered whether there was a paradox- whether they were doing so not because they could remember their childhoods, but because they couldn't.”
Carolyn lives here in Perth and is known to one of my friends who is also an author. My friend however is a historian who delves into a more distant past. Although I have not met Carolyn I would like to thank her for her books. I picked this book up as I had read “Pomegranate Season” which won her the Western Australian Premier’s Award for 1998. That was also a personal book.
I also liked the quote from the book that is on the back cover:
"My memories are at odds with the photo albums. Family snaps generally show smiling faces. The crying child is edited out before the photo is taken, the camera put down, the child comforted. Cleaned up, wiped down: if all else fails, the camera can be put away for another day. Videos are different. The genre of home video seems to admit- indeed to favour-crying children. Toddlers tripping over, dogs grabbing ice creams from wavering hands. It seemed to be allowed in the world of moving film for a child to choose to cry. Not in the world of the family snap, though, and certainly not in the fifties."
The fly reads “Why are so many baby boomers choosing to write memoirs while still in their fifties? I wondered whether there was a paradox- whether they were doing so not because they could remember their childhoods, but because they couldn't.”
Carolyn lives here in Perth and is known to one of my friends who is also an author. My friend however is a historian who delves into a more distant past. Although I have not met Carolyn I would like to thank her for her books. I picked this book up as I had read “Pomegranate Season” which won her the Western Australian Premier’s Award for 1998. That was also a personal book.
I also liked the quote from the book that is on the back cover:
"My memories are at odds with the photo albums. Family snaps generally show smiling faces. The crying child is edited out before the photo is taken, the camera put down, the child comforted. Cleaned up, wiped down: if all else fails, the camera can be put away for another day. Videos are different. The genre of home video seems to admit- indeed to favour-crying children. Toddlers tripping over, dogs grabbing ice creams from wavering hands. It seemed to be allowed in the world of moving film for a child to choose to cry. Not in the world of the family snap, though, and certainly not in the fifties."
The embargo on tears is well remembered as part my early life. I now am much more able to express my emotions freely although it took some practice. For some the expression of emotion seems unsettling. Perhaps they remain so well trained by their childhoods? Tears of course are not only an acknowledgment of sadness they can flow with laughter as well. I have some famous memories for times when I laughed so much.
Carolyn does so much to remind you of things long forgotten, not the least of which was the impact of young men being taken to war. My father of course was one. He has been gone now three and a half years although he has influenced in ways that continue to weave in and out of my every day breathing.
So perhaps the baby boomer in writing about the fifties is not only finding a way to retrieve lost memories but also a way to ensure links to people who helped shape us.
