My Thoughts on Memoir After Reading "Spare"

This isn't exactly a book review - though I wrote one on Goodreads which I include below.

I have a lot of thoughts here - in fact I feel compelled to blog about it shortly, but I'll say this:
Everyone has the right to share their own story

Everyone has the right to decide that their living situation is not healthy for them or their family and then make a change

Families are complex and difficult sometimes, no matter who you are.

I imagine there's more regret in playing an uncomfortable part that's written for you than finding your path without a map even if people shout that you are going the wrong way.

I'm not a fan of tabloid "news" on either side of the pond, but I'll admit to loving The Crown on Netflix and a few documentaries here and there. It's not an obsession, more a curiosity (my obsession would be Jane Austen and all things Agatha Christie) so Harry's perspective first as a young boy and later as a young(ish) man to events both familiar and unfamiliar to the general public interested me.

Keep an open mind and give it a try. Perhaps we could all judge just a little bit less.


Obviously, I have some feelings here, but if I had to sum it up into one thought it would be this:

Writing memoir is hard. I've only done snippets here and there (I don't think "Beedancing" is even still up on the Gimmick Press site) though I suppose most of my blog here is memoir-lite. I have the luxury of talking or not talking about my experiences because they are not public. I didn't grow up as the subject of worldwide fascination and incessant media attention. I have no idea how I would handle that.

I have seen others in my life stay in unhealthy relationships because breaking away "wasn't done" or would embarrass others or was too frightening than the familiar unhappiness they knew. I've seen others in my life stay in jobs for years that drained their joy because looking for something else - risking something else - was unthinkable. I've seen friends marry early because it was "the next step" or because they wanted to break free of their homes and later find that they've traded one confining situation for another. The bottom line here is that is frightening common to look around with some despair or regret or fear or whatever emotion fits and wonder whether anything can be done.


“Don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it.”
― Aubrey de Grey

My parents divorced when I was young - before kindergarten - and I remember the drive back across the country with my mom and my uncle and my little sister in a crappy car that overheated a lot. My sister and I played with a metal tin of bandaids that we stuck all over ourselves and each other in the back seat, the one thing we knew always made us feel better.

Complication 1. My mom apparently eloped with my dad while they were both in college and my mother still lived at home with my grandparents. Like, she literally climbed out the window. I'm sure it was dramatic and exciting and maybe even romantic in the moment but it caused a rift. I'm told that her pregnancy with me (first grandchild) eased the way back a bit with the parentals. I can also imagine that this new married life would have been a shock and a steep learning curve as my mother had not been raised as many women of the time were with extensive homemaking skills. I imagine that stepping into a role with such pre-defined expectations without the script would lead to all sorts of issues that two young people would struggle to overcome. I don't imagine my dad was much better prepared to be a husband or father.

Complication 2. After my mother's foray into the marital state, her next younger brother (she is the only daughter of five, with one older and three younger brothers) met and married my father's sister, my Aunt Gail. (two siblings married two other siblings - I feel like I should make a chart here) She already had children by previous relationships with one close to my age - instant cousin! My aunt and uncle soon had a son together, who was now my cousin on both sides of my family. Seriously, a chart would help, right? And then they, too, got divorced.

Complication 3. Everybody remarried, some more than once.
So, there is a divide, both geographically and emotionally, between my parents' families. It's not the Montagues and the Capulets - it's just distance, awkwardness, and choices made to focus on that which is nearby. I don't harbor anger or anything like that, I just moved on. My mother had married again, (wowsa, another book in of itself) was widowed, raised us mostly alone, and then married again once my sister and I were grown. She has since been widowed again and has really blossomed in her new independence. For the first time in her life, she is not sharing her space with her parents or a spouse or a dependent child - she is free to make decisions, mistakes, friends, and all of the other messy and wonderful parts of a life. And she is happy.

I never married and I never had children. I saw no need for the former and had no desire for the latter. Was this in defiance of my past? Who knows? My sister has three lovely girls and many grandchildren. It seems a happy chaos.

I haven't seen my father in many years, in fact, since my cousin's wedding. (my cousin on both sides) After arriving at the church in Baltimore with my mother who was in town helping me move into a new house, I slid into a pew on the groom's side. The man sitting directly in front of me turned around and there he was. I was shocked and unprepared as I'd never dreamed he would travel across country for this wedding. But here he was. He said something like You look beautiful, and I mumbled my thanks, face aflame, acutely aware of my mother's cool composure at my side. He did not approach me at the reception.

My father has two sons by his third(?) wife who was very kind to me during an ill-conceived semester I spent in Arizona when I was about 21. It was a terrible idea that did not end well, partly because I was wading into deep waters I did not understand, partly because I was 21 with all the self-absorption, insecurity, and naivete of that age, and partly because we were all strangers to each other, all carrying assumptions we were not comfortable talking about. When I last saw my half-brothers, they were five and three.

So, back to Spare.

It's not perfect, but I don't think it's trying to be. Harry (feels weird calling him "Harry" as if we know each other) is not perfect - at all. But he seems to be doing the best he can. He seems to be a good person who cares deeply for his family, even those who are not as nice or warm as they could be. He has recognized the trap of the "role" and has stepped back when it was clearly not healthy for him or his family.

Don't hate on him for telling his story. It's his to share. Don't hate on him for promoting his book, even though much of his trauma comes from interactions with the media. It's part of the process of releasing a book, and in this case, of making his own way, making his own money, and steering his own life, just as we are all free to do. You don't have to be friends, but you also don't have to be an asshole.

I have a bracelet inscribed with this quote to remind me to bravely choose my own way:

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you've imagined.”
― Henry David Thoreau


Harry, if you're reading this (still feels weird), maybe slow down with the drinking and substances a bit, keep it up with the therapist (no shame!), take care of that beautiful family, and live the life you are now free to imagine.

Side note: For those of you interested in memoir and family stories, check out my friend Vicki's project Secret Boxes here. It's really cool.