We always got Alice for two weeks in August
#97: The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty:My parents' Ford wagon hit a concrete divider on U.S. 95 outside Biddeford, Maine, in August 1990. They'd driven that stretch of highway for maybe thirty years, on the way to Long Lake. Some guy who used to play baseball with Pop had these cabins by the lake and had named them for his children. Jenny. Al. Tyler. Craig. Bugs. Alice and Sam. We always got Alice for two weeks in August, because it had the best waterfront, with a shallow, sandy beach, and Mom and Pop could watch us while they sat in the green Adirondack chairs.
Synopsis: Dude's parents die, dude's sister dies, dude gets on bike, bikes across country assailed by dead things.
Oh, Smithy. Good try on that whole "having a life" thing.
Smithy Ide is in his late forties, drunk, overweight and living with his parents and the ghost of his mad sister Bethany, whose struggle with mental illness defined the family's existence for as long as anyone can remember. Then Smithy's parents are killed in a car accident and Smithy finds himself on a bike, sobering up and losing weight as he bikes across the country to claim his sister's body, which has turned up in a morgue in Los Angeles. Along the way he is run down, shot, hit on, develops a relationship with the girl next door and grapples with Bethany's ghost. (Did I cover everything? There was a lot going on in this book.)
So, basically, I liked two-thirds of this book and then flipped out and hated the last third. Hands up if you can figure out where shit went wrong?
That's right, Wiggy.
Now, in case you're just tuning in, I have an animal harm squick. A big one. Especially with dogs. So the instructions that came with this book were to skip the chapter with the wedding shower, which I did. I also skipped an earlier bit with a family dog just to be on the safe side. However
(HI THERE. I AM NOW GOING TO TALK ABOUT HARM COMING TO A DOG. PLEASE AVERT YOUR EYES IF YOU NEED TO.)
(THERE WILL BE ANOTHER BORDER LIKE THIS IF YOU'D LIKE TO SKIP AHEAD TO SAFETY.)
not a couple chapters after the wedding shower bit, Smithy finds Wiggy's dead little body in the freezer. Then he tries to call Bethany's psychiatrist and tell her he thinks Bethany stuffed Wiggy in the freezer at the wedding shower. Then he takes a whole long chapter to retrieve Wiggy from the freezer and dig him a little grave, reminiscing about how much his uncle loved little Wiggy. Then a little bit later on, he turns to one of his traveling companions and tells him, "You know, I think my sister Bethany killed that sweet little dog. I think she stuffed him in the freezer."
Okay, in case there's some confusion on the subject, those bits up there? They are triggering. By the time I got to the burial scene I was so freaked out I was just fanning the fucking pages, willing the book to just go ahead and end already. I no longer gave a shit about the story in any way shape or form because I was so angry about Wiggy.
Fucking seriously?
(OKAY, WE ARE DONE NOW WITH THAT. NO MORE ANIMAL HARM TALK.)
The thing is, I really enjoyed the first two-thirds of the book. McLarty's writing style is smooth and lyrical, and while Smithy is in no way an appealing or compelling protagonist, but his adventures are. He's sort of the eye of the storm; a big open space in the middle of this swirl of chaos that's been brought about by his sister's illness and his parents' death and the continuing theme of death that accompanies his travel.
And to be fair, the characters who aren't Smithy are intriguing. I adored Bethany, and I agree with little_tristan that it was easy to care about her because you already know right up front that she's dead when the book starts. I really liked how no one believed Smithy about "the voice", and that he was the only person close enough to Bethany to see through her rehabilitations and really see her--and that was wonderfully illustrated by the fact that Smithy does literally continue to see her, or her ghost at least, striking her "poses" as he continues to be in motion across the country.
A lot of the story is told in flashback, and was remniscent of John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany, which takes place in small-town America during the 1960s. There's a very particular way of capturing the feel of that era that's sentimental but not Norman Rockwell-sweet, and McLarty does a great job of weaving his flashbacks into the narrative.
Now, Norma, the next door neighbor, was an odd duck (although the whole book is filled with strange and broken people). She's been in love with Smithy since she was nine, and she's been in a wheelchair since about then, and she's turned into a recluse who's very defensive about her disability. So, are we supposed to take away from this that love disables you? Or that disability = emotional reduction? (little_tristan did a fabulous job looking at ableism in this book over here). Norma was a very confusing character and, while memorable, not actually very likeable.
Overall, though, I found the women in the book to be well-written; with the exception of Norma, who I'm becoming convinced was supposed to be some kind of Symbol or Metaphor. They exist for their own purposes and do things, and are complex and sentimental and foolish and selfish and broken and brave.
I suspect the book might have passed the Bechdel test during the wedding shower chapter, because I think there was the mother and the aunt all talking to Bethany about her wedding, which would qualify condition #3, but I was cheerfully tearing past. My bad. Also, it might've happened during that last third of the book, but again, I was at mach-3 there and not really paying attention.
I do remember Smithy's bike being stolen, which I just thought was a terrible insult and not at all the metaphor McLarty wanted it to come across as, but I know I'm biased on the topics of bikes and bike thefts. I also found it just fatuous that Norma appeared out of thin air right at the end. Yes yes, I know she must have got on a plane, but gah. It was very much like being hit on the head with all the symbols of personal growth all at once.
The book was all about death and dying and handled those well, and honestly, I could have felt cheerful had it been left at that, without the Hollywood romance ending. "Pair off, mofos! Het companionship's the only path to salvation!"
I don't feel I can rate the book, starwise, despite l_t's nifty instructions, due to the aforementioned skimming that occurred, but overall I'd have to say it was an above-average telling of American dysfunction, loss and redemption.
Synopsis: Dude's parents die, dude's sister dies, dude gets on bike, bikes across country assailed by dead things.
Oh, Smithy. Good try on that whole "having a life" thing.
Smithy Ide is in his late forties, drunk, overweight and living with his parents and the ghost of his mad sister Bethany, whose struggle with mental illness defined the family's existence for as long as anyone can remember. Then Smithy's parents are killed in a car accident and Smithy finds himself on a bike, sobering up and losing weight as he bikes across the country to claim his sister's body, which has turned up in a morgue in Los Angeles. Along the way he is run down, shot, hit on, develops a relationship with the girl next door and grapples with Bethany's ghost. (Did I cover everything? There was a lot going on in this book.)
So, basically, I liked two-thirds of this book and then flipped out and hated the last third. Hands up if you can figure out where shit went wrong?
That's right, Wiggy.
Now, in case you're just tuning in, I have an animal harm squick. A big one. Especially with dogs. So the instructions that came with this book were to skip the chapter with the wedding shower, which I did. I also skipped an earlier bit with a family dog just to be on the safe side. However
(HI THERE. I AM NOW GOING TO TALK ABOUT HARM COMING TO A DOG. PLEASE AVERT YOUR EYES IF YOU NEED TO.)
(THERE WILL BE ANOTHER BORDER LIKE THIS IF YOU'D LIKE TO SKIP AHEAD TO SAFETY.)
not a couple chapters after the wedding shower bit, Smithy finds Wiggy's dead little body in the freezer. Then he tries to call Bethany's psychiatrist and tell her he thinks Bethany stuffed Wiggy in the freezer at the wedding shower. Then he takes a whole long chapter to retrieve Wiggy from the freezer and dig him a little grave, reminiscing about how much his uncle loved little Wiggy. Then a little bit later on, he turns to one of his traveling companions and tells him, "You know, I think my sister Bethany killed that sweet little dog. I think she stuffed him in the freezer."
Okay, in case there's some confusion on the subject, those bits up there? They are triggering. By the time I got to the burial scene I was so freaked out I was just fanning the fucking pages, willing the book to just go ahead and end already. I no longer gave a shit about the story in any way shape or form because I was so angry about Wiggy.
Fucking seriously?
(OKAY, WE ARE DONE NOW WITH THAT. NO MORE ANIMAL HARM TALK.)
The thing is, I really enjoyed the first two-thirds of the book. McLarty's writing style is smooth and lyrical, and while Smithy is in no way an appealing or compelling protagonist, but his adventures are. He's sort of the eye of the storm; a big open space in the middle of this swirl of chaos that's been brought about by his sister's illness and his parents' death and the continuing theme of death that accompanies his travel.
And to be fair, the characters who aren't Smithy are intriguing. I adored Bethany, and I agree with little_tristan that it was easy to care about her because you already know right up front that she's dead when the book starts. I really liked how no one believed Smithy about "the voice", and that he was the only person close enough to Bethany to see through her rehabilitations and really see her--and that was wonderfully illustrated by the fact that Smithy does literally continue to see her, or her ghost at least, striking her "poses" as he continues to be in motion across the country.
A lot of the story is told in flashback, and was remniscent of John Irving's A Prayer for Owen Meany, which takes place in small-town America during the 1960s. There's a very particular way of capturing the feel of that era that's sentimental but not Norman Rockwell-sweet, and McLarty does a great job of weaving his flashbacks into the narrative.
Now, Norma, the next door neighbor, was an odd duck (although the whole book is filled with strange and broken people). She's been in love with Smithy since she was nine, and she's been in a wheelchair since about then, and she's turned into a recluse who's very defensive about her disability. So, are we supposed to take away from this that love disables you? Or that disability = emotional reduction? (little_tristan did a fabulous job looking at ableism in this book over here). Norma was a very confusing character and, while memorable, not actually very likeable.
Overall, though, I found the women in the book to be well-written; with the exception of Norma, who I'm becoming convinced was supposed to be some kind of Symbol or Metaphor. They exist for their own purposes and do things, and are complex and sentimental and foolish and selfish and broken and brave.
I suspect the book might have passed the Bechdel test during the wedding shower chapter, because I think there was the mother and the aunt all talking to Bethany about her wedding, which would qualify condition #3, but I was cheerfully tearing past. My bad. Also, it might've happened during that last third of the book, but again, I was at mach-3 there and not really paying attention.
I do remember Smithy's bike being stolen, which I just thought was a terrible insult and not at all the metaphor McLarty wanted it to come across as, but I know I'm biased on the topics of bikes and bike thefts. I also found it just fatuous that Norma appeared out of thin air right at the end. Yes yes, I know she must have got on a plane, but gah. It was very much like being hit on the head with all the symbols of personal growth all at once.
The book was all about death and dying and handled those well, and honestly, I could have felt cheerful had it been left at that, without the Hollywood romance ending. "Pair off, mofos! Het companionship's the only path to salvation!"
I don't feel I can rate the book, starwise, despite l_t's nifty instructions, due to the aforementioned skimming that occurred, but overall I'd have to say it was an above-average telling of American dysfunction, loss and redemption.