Becoming

I have spent today, as I do every day - with my son. I watch each day as he changes, wakes up with a magical ability to do new things, make new sounds and generally be a different child than he was when he went to sleep the previous evening. It is beautiful, and bittersweet - emphasis on the sweet. I cherish his babyhood and the gift of this time with him. I am excited, though, to meet the child he is becoming, to greet the new Gus that wakes every day to smile up at me as though I, too, am new, and beautiful, and precious to him.

The Silence of American Immigrants

I just finished reviewing Luis Rodriguez's "Always Running: La Vida Loca, Gang Days in L.A." It got me thinking about the fact that so many of the stories I am reading have the thread of immigrant parents who do not communicate well with their American born children. This is always commented upon and seems more prevalent among the fathers than mothers. The fathers are referred to as "a man of few words," and "stoic," and almost universally do not offer much in the way of advice or even bother to speak much to their children. There is the obvious language barrier in some cases, as with Ben Fong-Torres' Chinese parents and the Spanish speaking parents of both Luis and Richard Rodriguez. However, even in the households of immigrants for whom English is not a problem, communication with children still seems to be lacking. This bears more investigation.

Life is what happens when you are making other plans...

I am thinking of the saying, "Life is what happens when you are making other plans." How true that is. OK, that's quite an obvious statement, but it really is so true. I just watched Marley and Me, which is about a man and his dog, and it inspired me to wonder aloud why men (at least all the men I've known) have such a hard time accepting and being happy with life when it deters from the plan they made for themselves. So many men I have spoken to have a vision for what they want their life to be - and, of course, reality rarely matches that dream. I never understood why young men seemed so reluctant to be "sidetracked" from their goals - as if life was a sidetrack and would prevent them from accomplishing something else. JJ suggested that it is because men are taught that they must have a plan from a very young age, so it is difficult to let go of that when life happens. This makes great sense to me. Of course, the same can be true for women, but not to the extent that these sorts of expectations are placed on men in our patriarchal culture. Men are taught they must achieve, be something...which really means they must achieve monetary or professional "success." Women, on the other hand, are freer to let life happen - now that we have won our freedom after centuries of being the second sex. So, yes, we still fight for full equality, but on the other hand we are not pressured to achieve the way men are. I guess what I'm saying is that boys are pressured too much while girls have very little expectations placed on them - both situations can be equally harmful. I hope to raise my son (and if I were to have a girl the same would be true) with the notion that he can and probably will "be" several different people throughout his lifetime. That a career does not define him. That money is only a necessity in our culture, not something to be coveted or bragged about. That he is free to love whom he chooses when he chooses - regardless of whether the timing or the person is "right." That his father and I will be his biggest supporters whatever he does. That happiness is possible, and he deserves it. That the world is hard, but life does not have to be. That love is more important than anything else in the universe, and the more you put out there, the more you get back.

Memoir as a New Form

One of the secondary sources I am consulting, Memoir and Memoirist, posits that memoir, as it exists now, is a relatively new form of autobiography. He explains that only since the 1980's has it become common to focus on one particular part of one's life, or one experience, and write a whole book on it. Prior to that time, autobiographies were primarily a life story, beginning to end (time written). Other than that, there were autobiographical essays, which were close to memoirs. Another common book form was the confessional or religious autobiography, which was a life story that focused on the internal rather than the external. This is another key that distinguishes memoir from traditional autobiography - the focus on the internal. The who and why and how, versus the what and when. Thus, when I look at the seeming increase in memoirs or "internal stories" written by men in the late twentieth century - it could be more of a general shift in the literary form, rather than a shift in the way men write in general. Or, it could be, and likely is, a combination of both. With the societal shifts that took place after the 60s - the civil rights movement, second wave feminism, and Vietnam - men became more introspective. They began to wonder whether, like women, they too should look at their lives and ask whether they were happy, whether they had other options - or were they simply doing what they thought they should? The result was that a great many men, those that determined the dominant ideology, were able to reject many forms of masculinity that required them to privilege the outer over the inner self.

Famous Builder

So, I am now in the midst of Famous Builder, a memoir by Paul Lisicky. In many ways it is similar to The Bill From My Father, so it came as no surprise that Lisicky is friends with Bernard Cooper (that book's author). It looks, from the acknowledgements and author notes, that they both taught at Antioch in LA. I will have to do more research on each of them if I include their books in my final paper. I am sure to include at least Cooper's. While similar, I find Lisicky's narrative interesting for the way it depicts not only his own relationship with his father, but his father's relationship with his older brother, who "raised" him after their father died. As with many of the memoirs I have read, the issue of first-generation American children dealing with immigrant parents is prevalent and a significant factor in shaping Paul's father and his life choices. In Famous Builder, the elder Lisicky is the first generation American, and deals with the pressure of separating (psychologically) from his family and their working-class, immigrant ways as he makes his way through college, earns two graduate degrees, and becomes a middle-class, suburban professional. In the book, a neighborhood of row houses Philadelphia represents the working-class, immigrant existence -a development in New Jersey called Cherry Hill represents the middle class life Paul's father achieved. Even though he gained the "American Dream" through hard work and know-how, traits normally held in high esteem in the US, the Lisickys, especially the older brother who took on the father role at a young age, are resentful of Paul's father. At least, that is how Paul perceives it. Of course, it is impossible to know how the family really thought or felt - we can only know what the author tells us (this is the tricky part of analyzing memoir). This part of the story is more of a class issue than one of cultural inheritance. It is not uncommon for families to resent the child who "makes good," even if that was their goal all along.

The Bill From My Father

So, I have not actually posted on here yet, since the first day, because I have not had time. I am currently working on a paper and occupied with various activities associated with being a mom and a student. It just occurred to me, though, while I was doing some business in the bathroom, that I could use this blog as a way to explore some of my thoughts on the paper I am writing...sort of a public rough draft - in pieces. This will hopefully inspire me to 1) write on my blog, and 2) actually get some good work done on my paper (I am a master procrastinator). I can find a million things to do in order to avoid writing a paper, even though I love the process...there's just something about the pressure of a deadline that gets my juices going, and since this paper is technically not due until May, I am inclined to put it off. The reason I cannot afford to do that this time is because I will shortly be starting school again and will have another research paper along with a TA position in which I will have to grade assignments and prepare a lecture at the end of the semester. So, I really need to get this paper done! Gus, the baby boy living in my house, takes up enough time that I only have short spurts in which to write, so it's imperative that I get crackin! That said, here I go....I am re-reading The Bill From My Father, by Bernard Cooper, which I read last summer, but on which I took no notes at the time. This time, I am reading it for inclusion in my paper on memoirs written by American men at the turn of the 21st century (approx 1988-present). Preliminarily, I find Cooper's style to be self-effacing, almost apologetic. He is clearly wary of his father - even scared of him at times. His father is a demanding, eccentric, hard-headed ex-lawyer. Cooper is supposed to be writing a book about his father's life, but he winds up writing about his relationship with his father - which is good for me as that is the topic I am addressing in my paper - men's relationships with their fathers as told in their memoirs. Cooper is sort of in awe of his father, and longs for his father's approval, which is more of a common theme than anything else in the stories I am reading. However, he doesn't really like his dad that much, His dad is not really a good guy. He's selfish,philandering, conniving, and narcissistic. The guy has some major personality issues. Cooper wants badly to understand his father, but he doesn't get very far. His dad withholds the deepest, most real parts of himself from his son. It is not clear to me why this is so, but it is also one of the most common elements of these memoirs. I will keep exploring. Gus is calling, so ttfn!