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The hot seat

November 30, 2011

This week at work we have reviews, which means longer days at work to convince my boss I’m indispensable, and shorter blog posts.

Also, our toilet is filling up with BOILING HOT WATER. I didn’t even realize that was a plumbing problem you could have.

Well it is. And, it’s weird.

The one thing that is spicing up my otherwise limited work-day dance of subway, office, hot toilet seat, and subway is Mary Karr’s third memoir, Lit.

I read her first memoir, The Liars’ Club, a few years ago. I wasn’t sure if I loved it or not, but I did know I couldn’t put it down.

When I re-read it a few months ago, and found myself staying awake despite knowing the endings, I knew I had to give in. Mary Karr writes with an honesty that I envy. Her voice is clear, authentic, and pickled in absentminded charm.

BUT. If I thought I liked her first memoir, Lit is a whole different ball game. Lit picks up the story where most memoirs canvassing crazy, careless childhoods leave off, with the repercussions. Where The Liars’ Club tells the story of her parents’ aimless and often violent missteps from Karr’s hyperaware childhood eyes, Lit tells the extra personal story of her own devolvement into alcoholism. Just when you think she’s about to take a nice soak in self-pity, she calls herself out, which makes the whole thing surprisingly delightful to read, and incredibly interesting. It’s basically a hard-core Eat, Pray, Love with an asylum substituting for Italy and with divorce as the lesser of several evils.

Overall, it’s a picker upper.

But really, her voice is strong, humble, and impossible to ignore. Which is why I’m going to go read it now.

+ wine

goodnight!

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