Alexandra Styron on Her Father

Next up in my reading during recuperation from back surgery was Alexandra Styron's Reading My Father, due out shortly from Scribner. I was lucky enough to score an Advanced Review Copy (ARC) at the Ipswich Book Nook's grand opening. I was even luckier to have time to read it.

I perused an excerpt from this book in the New Yorker a few months ago, and realized then I didn't know much about William Styron, the author's father, or about the author, herself, who has also published the novel All the Finest Girls. Her memoir about his life and her own is a beautiful, bittersweet tale that tells the story of a brilliant and troubled writer and father. His novels included Confessions of Nat Turner and Sofie's Choice, which won him acclaim as well as criticism. His story of going through a serious clinical depression and coming out the other side alive, Darkness Visible, brought him acclaim and appreciation of a different kind.

Alexandra is the youngest child of four, with an eight-year gap between her and her next elder sibling. She was alone with her cantakerous father much of the time she was growing up, and I suffered her wincing at his tirades right along with her, at the same time understanding how she longed for his approval and love.

Many famous personalities - writers, musicians, politicians - were friends of the family. People like Leonard Bernstein, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Mia Farrow, and Bill Clinton were guests at their dinner table. Her mother Rose forged her own life while still staying close to her difficult husband. The author researched her father's unpublished writings and early correspondence at the Duke University Library so she could write honestly about the long stretch of his life before she was born and through her younger childhood.

I found this book painful to read, not in the writing but in the continued theme of a man so obsessed with his own career that everyone around him suffered a great deal for a long time. Alexandra's writing is clear, lyrical, and honest. It moved me through her father's life with ease and tears. I urge you to find it and read it. Me, I'm going to find her novel and then look for his.

My mother's memoir - "Our First Car"

My mother, Marilyn Muller, has participated in a memoir-writing group in her residence. The following is a guest post by her.

Our First Car

Marilyn M. Muller

When I was first married in 1946, we had neither the money nor a pressing need for a car. We rode to work on the Red Cars (Pacific Electric) and could occasionally borrow my in-laws' car for something special (we lived with the in-laws near Pasadena, California, until we found an apartment).

The chance to buy a 1934 Ford Coupe at a price affordable for us arose one day. It was in good running order, and had class and personality -- curb feelers, too. We loved it.

In my mind it was special because I learned to drive in it. It had a manual choke that needed mastering on cold mornings, and a shelf right behind the seat backs. Padded, that was the perfect place for the baby to ride on, after we had one.

One year we took the Ford camping to Lake Tahoe, and it had no problems at all on the mountain roads. Then there was the time we packed it full to move our little family from Pasadena to the Oakland area. My husband preferred to load the car while I transferred things outside. He would ask for a package that was "just the right size." For example, "I need a non-fragile box less than 9 inches square," or "something soft to fit on top in the trunk."

The radiator overheated during the move, luckily near a gas station. The cause was probably the spare tire that was fastened on the front of the car over the air intake because there was no room for it in the trunk. Everything else went well on the road, and nothing was broken when we arrived in Oakland.

Since the veteran's housing we lived in had no garages, we had to park on the street. We looked out our window a lot to verify that our car was still there. Eventually we deemed renting a garage necessary -- not only to foil thieves, but to keep the engine warmer for easier starting on cold mornings.

When we traded up to a newer sedan, traveling was more comfortable. We had a back seat and a car seat for the toddler. But it was seldom more fun than the Ford.