Against the wishes of her parents (but with their permission), Karen Armstrong entered a convent at 17. Her memoir reveals what being a nun was like in 1960s England--the spiritual, physical and emotional challenges, as well as the joy of feeling called and chosen to strive to be close to God.
Chicana butch Karleen Pendleton Jiménez has known she wanted to have a baby almost as long as she has known she wasn't a girly girl. Having other things going on in her twenties and no chance of getting pregnant accidentally, she doesn't get around to trying to get knocked up until her mid-30s, which is not typically easy for lesbians in the best of times.
I have long enjoyed Julia Alvarez's reality inspired political fiction, I gobble up autobiographies, and because of my spouse's work with two nonprofits there, I have an interest in Haiti, so of course her Haiti memoir was appealing to me. Unfortunately...
"We ride into the downtown area [of Port-au-Prince], full of ambivalence. To watch or not to watch. What is the respectful way to move through these scenes of devastation? We came to see, and according to Junior, Haiti needs to be seen. But something feels unsavory about visiting sites where people have suffered and are still suffering. You tell yourself you are here in solidarity. But at the end of the day, you add it up, and you still feel ashamed--at least I do. You haven't improved a damn thing. Natural disaster tourism--that's what it feels like."
"At first glance you might find the above [diary entry] interesting but that's because it's me, and you obviously find me interesting enough to read this book."
"Another nice thing about the Jews is that their rabbis don't make a habit of sexually violating their youngest and most vulnerable congregants. Of course, there are obvious reasons for this. For one thing, Jewish clergy are allowed to fuck and masturbate and marry. The first two of these activities work amazingly well for relieving sexual tension. … Oh, also, the Jewish clergy are allowed to have vaginas. As a general rule for any large organization, if you're looking to reduce the rape-iness of it, try hiring more women."
"I have comic friends who are gay. Some remain in the closet, and I don't blame them. It's not just out of fear of prejudice--it's fear of the gay community taking ownership of them. Suddenly, they are a gay comic, saddled with responsibility to represent."
"Please make this book be finished. I'll be honest: I kind of blew it off." from the Afterword, by God, quoting Silverman.
Rachel Dratch's compelling memoir is compelling. She tells the story of her fifteen-years-in-the-making overnight success, some failures (that she often managed to turn around on her second try), her friendships, getting knocked up in her mid-forties, and other stuff.
That queer feminist Nicole Georges would call regressive right-wing meanie Dr. Laura Schlessinger for advice about how to navigate a family secret is what makes Nicole and her story so interesting and surprising. Maybe it's just me, but I had the idea that Nicole, a long-time maker of zines and minicomics, was tough and a little scary. (There's a good chance I have her minicomics collaborator Clutch McBastard to blame for that impression.) The Nicole I met in this graphic memoir is not scary; she's scared. Dr. Laura makes her cry, her mom makes her go silent, and she's easily hurt by her girlfriend, Radar.
A middle-class white American who grew up atheist comes out as Muslim. Though she has to convert officially to be square with Egypt, the way Wilson describes her relationship with the religion calls to mind realizing or accepting that you're gay, not becoming so.
Personality, that compromise between one's soul and one's culture.
Amy Webb, a journalist and serious data geek decides she's going to meet her husband through JDate. After a few bad dates she realizes that it's going to take more than posting snippets from her résumé into her profile and responding to invitations from whatever guy seems cool to find her beshert, so she launches an obsessive data gathering operation, which ultimately works.
Cartoonist Ellen Forney is completely forthcoming in her account of how she coped with getting diagnosed with bipolar disorder and accepting that she'd have to be on meds the rest of her life. Aside from her frustrations with her highs and lows and the drugs that often failed to smooth them out, the central thesis of Forney's graphic novel style memoir is her fear that medication will erase her artistic talent and identity.
This is another book I wished I'd enjoyed more, as I did Griest's previous memoir Around the Bloc: My Life in Moscow, Beijing, and Havana. After having explored cultures foreign to her own, Griest decides to spend a year in Mexico, examining the roots of half of her bloodline. The parts where she explores her Mexican and mixed race identities are compelling, but the reportage in most of the book is less so, at least for me.
