鈥淭he Hero of This Book鈥� by Elizabeth McCracken (Ecco)
Don鈥檛 be fooled by the fact that this slim new volume from Elizabeth McCracken has the words 鈥渁 novel鈥� on the cover. It鈥檚 a memoir. The reason it鈥檚 not referred to as such is clear from the dedication page 鈥� a handwritten note from McCracken to her mom in 1993 promising that she鈥檒l never appear as a character in her work.
Semantics aside, 鈥淭he Hero of This Book鈥� is simple and lovely. McCracken鈥檚 easy prose is a joy to read, right off the bat. Here鈥檚 part of the opening paragraph: 鈥淭his was the summer before the world stopped. We thought it was pretty bad, though in retrospect there was joy to be found鈥� I鈥檇 gone to London, where a heat wave had bent train rails and shut down art exhibitions and turned the English into pink, panting mammals.鈥� The narrator 鈥� she uses the first person and readers can interchange the word narrator and author if they like 鈥� is in London 10 months after her mother鈥檚 death to revisit places they loved together while reflecting on their relationship. 鈥淥nce somebody is dead, the world reveals all the things they might have enjoyed if they weren鈥檛,鈥� writes McCracken.
From August 2019 the narrative jumps around to past moments which reveal the mother鈥檚 values and the bond she shared with her daughter. Cleaning out the kitchen in 2002, as the narrator prepares to introduce her future husband to her parents (鈥淚 was trying to make a house he could visit without being appalled鈥�):
鈥淚 brandished the cheese. 鈥楾hree years out of date!鈥� I said to my mother. 鈥�
鈥橬o,鈥� she explained. 鈥業 just bought that.鈥�
鈥�1999!鈥� I said. 鈥楲ook!鈥�
鈥楶rinter鈥檚 error,鈥� said my mother, who generally used her considerable powers of stubbornness for good.鈥�
Beyond honoring a mother, McCracken does something else remarkable in these 177 pages. She writes about writing. Despite her narrator鈥檚 admonition early on 鈥� 鈥淒on鈥檛 trust a writer who gives out advice. Writers are suckers for pretty turns of phrase with only the ring of truth鈥� 鈥� nuggets of advice pop up throughout like bubbles: 鈥淚 don鈥檛 think writing is that hard, as long as you鈥檙e comfortable with failure on every single level.鈥� Or: 鈥淲hy do I write? To try to get human beings on a page without the use of vivisection or preservatives or a spiritualist鈥檚 props, to make them seem lively still.鈥�
McCracken does that with this book, processing her own grief and honoring her mother鈥檚 life, even if the subject 鈥� her hero 鈥� would assuredly have scoffed at the idea.
Rob Merrill, The Associated Press
