Pictured above: Patti Smith, American singer-songwriter, musician, author, and poet. Photo courtesy of WikiMedia Commons.
By Anastasia Branas ’24
Staff Writer
Memoirs are an easy way to feel seen and understood in literature. They won’t provide the same escapism as a fantasy book, but they will ground you in reality. As the Valentine’s Day section of CVS is on its last legs, try filling the chocolate-and-romance void by reading a memoir with eerily relatable themes of melancholic queer desire.
Starting our recommendations off is Eileen Myles’ famous 1994 work “Chelsea Girls.” This memoir follows Myles as they go from attending a Catholic school in 1960s Massachusetts to being a young lesbian artist in New York City. “Chelsea Girls” is a gender-bent version of the traditionally male trope of “sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.” Pick up this book to live vicariously through somebody else’s questionable choices. If you’re ready to be transported to the world of the starving artist, grab a rolled-up beanie and your Shakespeare and Company tote and head out to grab a copy at your nearest independent bookstore.
If you want to delve further into the depths of moral debauchery that was New York in the 1970s, consider reading Patti Smith’s 1996 book “The Coral Sea.” This memoir of prose poems continues the story of her cult classic novel, “Just Kids,” which depicts Smith’s friendship with Robert Mapplethorpe. Mapplethorpe and Smith were artists living in Chelsea at the same time as Myles, but their stories are very different. Mapplethorpe was a prominent experimental gay photographer who battled AIDS in the late 1980s. Smith is most well known for her punk music, but at the time of “The Coral Sea,” she was focused on writing poetry. Between its content and the breathtaking prose, this book will leave you in tears.
For a more modern selection, try Ocean Vuong’s 2019 debut novel “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” a work of fiction written in the style of a memoir. This book tells the story of discovering one’s identity and family history as an immigrant in the United States in the late 20th century. Vuong writes this epistolary novel from the perspective of a son writing a letter to his Vietnamese immigrant mother, who cannot read in English. The language itself lies at the intersection of poetry and prose, emphasizing the power of lyricism to address the modern concerns of language barriers, sexuality and growing up.
Last but not least in a sea of post-Valentine’s Day angst, Carmen Maria Machado’s “In the Dream House” tackles difficult, emotional themes with wit and spirit. Through a series of vignettes, Machado uses “Dream House” as a metaphor for her abusive ex-girlfriend. She has spoken in many interviews about her intention to shed light on queer domestic violence. Each scene is entirely unique and wraps the reader up in its fantasy and fear simultaneously, with Machado as both character and guide. Each piece can stand on its own but benefits from its shared context.
Go try a queer memoir — these stories can serve as an introduction to a new genre and an array of undervalued writers. Hopefully, these books will brighten up your COVID-19-wintertime — or at least make you feel a little less alone.