Blow + Jeremiah
For weeks, I have been dealing with an internal battle. My responsibility to this blog and its loyal followers, and my desire to remain true to myself have been waging war in my head and heart! I can't eat. I can't sleep. I try to silence the endless screams for control, but they never seem to cease...
Conscience: "Pfft...hyperbole much?!"
Me: "Well, I have to make it interesting."
Conscience: "Get your life."
Thanks conscience. But really. Ever since I began reading "Fire Shut Up in My Bones," I've been trying to decide whether or not I should finish it. No disrespect to Charles Blow, but he didn't hold my attention. It wasn't the length (c'mon, I've been reading books twice its size for a solid 15 years now), or the content, it was just...blah. I was halfway through the book, and I felt like I was still waiting for something, anything to happen. Don't get me wrong, plenty (there goes that exaggeration again), of things happened, but Blow didn't allow himself the opportunity to fully explore the important themes. Tragedies were explained in 1-2 pages (if that), and were treated as afterthoughts going forward. For someone who felt his tragedies shaped him, he didn't really give them their due. Memoirs are supposed to be vulnerable, and it didn't feel like he was really ready to release. I'm completely here for his next book when/if he does release. You know the feeling of something being rushed, yet at the same time trudging along? That's what I felt while reading "Fire Shut Up in My Bones." I had a similar experience with Chimimanda Ngozi Adichie's "Americanah," which, by the way, I purchased in 2013 and still haven't finished.
I really need to stop falling for the hype.
What I did notice in "Bones" (of course I shortened the title, I'm American), was that my sociological imagination was constantly firing. Perhaps that's why I didn't enjoy the book as much as others--I was analyzing it! As my grad school professor told me (Hey Dr. DeFreece!), I couldn't see the forest for the trees. Geez, $45,000 in loans later, and you would think I would have learned that lesson. Anyway, different things jumped out at me, and I'd like to share them:
(As found in my Notes app)
Pg. 42: (As I'm reading this) I often forget how young Blow is. That is, until he references pop culture that's only a generation removed. I'm imagining him and his family in the 1940's or before--sharecroppers, who live under the rule of Jim Crow. I guess that's what extreme poverty can do. It can keep you in the past. The greatest history lesson ever.
Page 93: He often felt alone, and abandoned. He's the perfect target.
note: when I say, "He's the perfect target." I am in no way excusing what happened to him, or any child who is almost or actually abused. It is a tragedy. The person who commits the act, is just as tragic. I wonder what life experiences they had to bring them to that point...Before I allow myself to climb my soapbox, just know that I do not believe that Blow ever invited any of his abuse. While his introversion and self-seclusion makes him easier to abuse, it is inexcusable.
Carry on.
Page 95: "Loneliness became my truest and dearest friend."
This just breaks my heart, and ties in with the earlier note.
Page 122: ...early sexualization of kids...impoverished kids... Does a link exist here? Note to self: start researching.
Page 129: Daddy issues?
It is fascinating that only women are accused of having "Daddy issues." As if men can't long for the love of an absent or abusive father, and go looking for it in the wrong places. Blow is someone who definitely has "Daddy issues."
That is where I stopped. I couldn't go on. No mas. Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below, that is, you know, if you actually read along with me. :) Brownie points to the person who can explain the title of this post.