"Parisian Lives: Samuel Beckett, Simone de Beauvoir, and Me," by Deirdre Bair

There are so many elements to love about the fascinating book, “Parisian Lives: Samuel Beckett, Simone de Beauvoir, and Me” (Doubleday, 2019), by Deirdre Bair. What a joy to read such a great writer writing about such great subjects – the Irish writer Samuel Beckett and the French feminist icon and writer Simone de Beauvoir. This book is a memoir about writing biographies, and I had trouble resisting all that that involved. Bair tells us how in recent years (she is now in her eighties) she looked back to the process of getting to know each of these famous writers, and from the perspective of many years later, how she sees what an improbable and amazing process it was. She describes how she decided, as a doctoral student in 1971, to write a biography of Beckett. She knew it was perhaps brash to propose herself to him as his biographer, and to secure his cooperation and his time for many interviews; she was young and an unknown and unproven writer. Many in academe and elsewhere thought it presumptuous of her. But, surprisingly, Beckett agreed. Thus Bair started down the long road of doing intensive research in various libraries, and conducting numerous interviews with Beckett as well as with many of his colleagues, friends, and associates. There were many trips to Paris (as well as Dublin and other locales), many times when Beckett was not able to meet with her (and often did not communicate with her about why), and much sometimes snarky cross-talk among Beckett and his associates about who had met with Bair and what they had said. After many delays (including Bair's always needing funding, and always needing to plan her trips around her family life), the biography was published in 1978 to much acclaim. Then, as Bair was casting about for her next project, she stumbled into writing about Simone de Beauvoir, famous both for her feminist writing and for her long relationship with the still-more-famous philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre; these two leading intellectuals/writers' unconventional relationship was a staple of French and international gossip. De Beauvoir also consented to this biography, and was generally cooperative, although – as with Beckett – there were glitches along the way. The de Beauvoir biography was published in 1990. Both of these biographies were well received (including the Beckett biography’s being awarded a National Book Award), although some scholars dismissed Bair’s writing, and/or spread rumors that she must have had a sexual relationship with Beckett in order to secure his cooperation on the biography; sadly, sexism was then (even more than now) rampant in the world of scholarship as elsewhere. One of the reasons “Parisian Lives” is so compelling is the way Bair takes us deeply into the process of research and writing, and shares with us the many unusual situations she encountered, and the many quirks of the two subjects as well as of the people who surrounded them. She has a great eye for the telling detail. And she is a flat-out excellent writer. Another strength of the book is Bair’s willingness to share with readers her initial lack of knowledge about what good biography would entail, as well as her worries and her missteps along the way. But we can also see how very determined she was, how very hard she worked, and how thorough her research was. She grew to be very fond of each writer, and in particular became a confidant of de Beauvoir, but also knew she had to keep a certain distance in order to do her work as a biographer. Bair went on to write biographies of a disparate group of famous people: Jung, Anais Nin, Saul Steinberg, and Al Capone. I highly recommend “Parisian Lives,” which I found completely engrossing throughout, to anyone interested in biography, memoir, literature, feminism, Paris, Beckett, and/or de Beauvoir. It is one of the very best books I have read recently.

"Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations," by Mira Jacob

I have written here about some wonderful “graphic” books (with text plus drawings) – novels, memoirs, and others – in the past few years. I just “read” (but what is the right word for absorbing a book that has both text and drawings/photographs/illustrations?...the word “read” doesn’t seem quite right) “Good Talk: A Memoir in Conversations” (Random House, 2018), by Mira Jacob. The main topic is race and racism. The book is organized around the author’s own experiences, as an Indian American (but one of her topics is trying to decide the correct term for those whose families originally arrive in the United States from India), with race and racism. She starts by quoting some questions her young son asks about himself and their family, including whether he could or should be like Michael Jackson, whom he greatly admires. Jacob’s husband is white and Jewish, so their son is biracial. The son asks, “Was Michael Jackson brown or was he white?” When Jacob replies that he was black but then he turned white, her son asks if she will turn white, and whether his father was always white. As he asks more questions, Jacob is torn about how to answer, how to help her son make sense of race and ethnicity in the U.S. She finds herself talking to him about such concepts as cultural appropriation. In any case, these conversations provide an entry into her memoir about her own experiences, feelings, questions, and resentments. She writes of her parents’ experiences and feelings as well, including regarding their arranged marriage. Bringing in her Indian ethnicity and history also raises questions of religion, especially regarding Muslims and Hindus. Her husband tries to explain the Holocaust to their son. Jacob also discusses gender and sexual identities. She is good at exploring and pointing out bigotry, but also the confusions and questions about race, ethnicity, religion, gender, and sexuality. She is also good at pointing out the small examples of “everyday” racism, including by well-meaning people. She doesn’t use the word “microaggressions,” but those are in fact what she is in some cases describing. Now I have to say that I can’t quite describe the particular mixture in this book of questioning, describing problems, wry commentary, confusion, hurt, and compelling portrayals of daily life in a “mixed” family in the U.S. I will also note that the non-text parts are mostly in grey, with flashes of other colors, and use an intriguing technique of drawings that look like they are modeled on photographs, and that repeat the same drawings of the same faces (at least of the main characters) throughout the book. The idea of “good talk” seems to be that it is important to talk about these issues and experiences, but at the same time the book gently mocks itself as it is clear that there are not always correct or obvious answers to racial questions as they play out in daily life, and talk is not enough.

"In the Dream House: A Memoir," by Carmen Maria Machado

Carmen Maria Machado has, in her book “In the Dream House: A Memoir” (Graywolf, 2019), written the powerful, painfully candid, and brave story of her time with a female lover who was wonderful at first but gradually became possessive, cruel, and even violent toward Machado. The story is gripping, immensely difficult to “witness,” and tremendously well written. Machado has given readers a window into the world of domestic violence in the lesbian community, one seldom written about. The stereotype is that women are not (usually) violent, and lesbians are women who love other women and therefore are peaceful and kind. Of course this stereotype is not logical, but it has been the image that many have of lesbian relationships. Machado clearly hopes that by bringing openness to this topic, she will empower others to speak up and to stand up for themselves and for others in this situation. Her dedication, “If you need this book, it is for you,” perhaps says it all. In the course of telling her story, the author describes her time studying creative writing, teaching, and making her way into the literary world. She also tells readers of her background, and includes allusions to various aspects of both literary and popular culture. One interesting aspect of her story is her insights into the world of creative writing programs in the United States. But the main focus is the intense, obsessive, sometimes happy, but increasingly difficult and destructive relationship between the writer and her lover. Although the subject of abuse is difficult to read about, the writing is gripping.