My first novel, The Island, was inspired by a chance visit to a tiny island leper colony off the coast of Greece on our summer holiday. It was a...
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Maybe it seems counter-intuitive to write a solo biography of Anne Sullivan Macy -- who would have heard of her if not for Helen Keller, right? Even for someone who's as nutzoid for Annie as I am, it's odd at first to read a biography in which Helen Keller gets so obviously sidelined. However, much as I value Joseph Lash's dual biography, Helen and Teacher, and as much as the two women's lives were intertwined, reading Nielsen's solo examination of Annie reveals just how much of a distraction keeping up with Helen Keller creates for those of us interested the intricacies of Annie Sullivan.
Without the focus constantly swinging toward the details of Helen's existence, vital elements like Annie's disabilities and mercurial personality virtually become characters in their own right. In fact, Nielsen shows that Annie's wavering eyesight, chronic pain, recurring illnesses, and lifelong bouts of melancholy were more debilitating than Helen's blindness and deafness -- though no one who spent 40-odd years standing next to a deaf-blind icon would dare draw attention to that fact. Not even saucy Annie Sullivan.
While many biographers tend to frame the hardships in Annie's early life as a rags-to-riches buildup to her successes as Helen Keller's famous teacher, Nielsen details the lingering effects of Annie's childhood traumas on her adult relationships and behavior. The truth of the matter is that Annie Sullivan was damaged goods, and even the salve of Helen's decades-long friendship never fully closed those wounds. No matter how much Helen loved and venerated her, Anne Sullivan Macy was not an easy woman to live with. Fortunately for the rest of us, all the extremes that made her such a trial and a delight make for a fascinating read under Nielsen's steady gaze.
***************
Addendum:
I am vicariously incensed with Publisher's Weekly for referring to this book as "lightly fictionalized autobiography." In fact, NONE of Nielsen's writing in this biography can be characterized in any way as fictionalized. On the contrary, Nielsen uses Anne Sullivan Macy's own lightly fictionalized autobiographical writings as a source for her work, but clearly indicates between documented facts and the autobiographical stories of 'Johannah [Annie] and Jimmie Dunnivan' culled from Macy's unpublished memoirs. *humpf*
Blind Rage is my new favorite Helen Keller book. No contest. I haven't been this wowed by a book in a long time. The author has such an amazing handle on Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan, I sat there grinning at the words as I read them. Over and over again I thought to myself, "Yes, that's just what she would have done/said/felt!" Which is a little presumptuous, I suppose, but it's really something when a complete stranger's interpretation of a person meshes so precisely with your own.
Kleege originally wrote these letters to deal with her long-standing personal resentment toward Helen Keller. If you're a blind kid, Helen Keller is understandably the ultimate (and ultimately irritating) example of what you "should" be. But apparently, once she got writing and doing some research on grown-up Helen, she saw that a lot of what people believe about her is essentially a myth. Helen wasn't just a perfect and placid blind lady. It's pretty much a comparison between the public face Helen displayed her entire life and the feelings she must have really had underneath that mask -- crazy and unreasonable feelings like frustration (*gasp*) and anger (eek!).
What really knocks me out is how Georgina Kleege interweaves fiction and non-fiction. This whole book is essentially an imagining of how Helen Keller, and sometimes Annie Sullivan, really felt at certain crucial junctures in her life. Considering how uptight I am about historical fiction, it's interesting how much I enjoyed this format. But this book really defies standard genre definitions anyway. The blurb on the back cover calls it "creative non-fiction" and that's an apt description. Kleege begins with the accepted, standard version of an event or relationship in Helen's life, breaks it apart into a set of potential what-ifs, then fills in the emotional gaps with possible scenarios that are written like snippets of a novel. Granted, I'm not as well-versed in Helen's later life as I am in her childhood, but the portrayals of Helen and Annie's characters were so consistent with the way I feel about them, I was constantly unsure of where the line between Kleege's imagination and the real history lay. She interweaves bits and pieces of actual incidents conversations that I sometimes recognized into these scenarios, but much of the time, I couldn't tell if the remainder of the scenes are drawn from sources I haven't seen, of if they were just made up. The overall effect is seamless and arresting.
Honestly, I'm a little jealous -- mostly in a good way. This book is so much more complex and deep than mine (Miss Spitfire). But it's written for adults, and deals with Helen's grown-up life, so it has more freedom to dig deeper into sensitive issues. This kind of jealousy is actually a special form of admiration.
What I'd really like to know is how the general reading population will feel about Blind Rage. (Since I'm such a Helen Keller junkie, I'm sort of doomed to love it, and perhaps not an entirely fair judge.) I bet it's going to be controversial to some extent, particularly the section on Helen's sexuality. It so blatantly challenges the Helen Keller myth of relentless cheerfulness and compliance. Which is precisely why I ate it right up!
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(1 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)
Ashley Bryan nailed it:
"The Underneath reads like a ballad sung."
Does it ever. You don't often find a novel with rhythm and cadence like this. Matter of fact, I'd go even further than Mr. Bryan -- I'd tell you that The Underneath reads like a round. A handful of characters and stories all sharing the same melody weave in and around each other until they end together in the final note. There's a fair amount of repetition in here that might make some readers itchy, but think of it this way: when you sing a song, you have to repeat the chorus every now and then. Just let the tune carry you, and have a good soak in the ideas and images floating by.
Now, I've been known to secretly roll my eyes when someone claims a book 'begs to be read aloud,' but darn it, Kathi Appelt's convinced me. She must have positively wallowed in the oral tradition before she wrote this baby. The narrative voce is just the right combination of wise and folksy, and you never escape the feeling that someone's telling you a story. Done right, The Underneath will make for one knockout audiobook.
This is a rich, rich story, which doesn't flinch from tenderness nor darkness, but neither is it lurid or sappy. It has heart, plain and simple. If you harbor affection for critters, folklore, Native American legends, the bayous of Texas and Louisiana, or just darn good writing, then wow -- treat yourself. I'm pretty much agog, and if you ask me, I'l tell you I think it's a Contender.
I should probably say something about the art, but any time I think of David Small I invariably drift off into a daydream wherein I'm a cat living under his porch, with his wife Sarah Stewart feeding me bowls of cream...
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(3 of 4 readers found this comment helpful)
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Sarah Miller has commented on (6) products.
Beyond the Miracle Worker: The Remarkable Life of Anne Sullivan Macy and Her Extraordinary Friendship with Helen Keller by Kim E Nielsen
Sarah Miller, May 20, 2009
Maybe it seems counter-intuitive to write a solo biography of Anne Sullivan Macy -- who would have heard of her if not for Helen Keller, right? Even for someone who's as nutzoid for Annie as I am, it's odd at first to read a biography in which Helen Keller gets so obviously sidelined. However, much as I value Joseph Lash's dual biography, Helen and Teacher, and as much as the two women's lives were intertwined, reading Nielsen's solo examination of Annie reveals just how much of a distraction keeping up with Helen Keller creates for those of us interested the intricacies of Annie Sullivan.Without the focus constantly swinging toward the details of Helen's existence, vital elements like Annie's disabilities and mercurial personality virtually become characters in their own right. In fact, Nielsen shows that Annie's wavering eyesight, chronic pain, recurring illnesses, and lifelong bouts of melancholy were more debilitating than Helen's blindness and deafness -- though no one who spent 40-odd years standing next to a deaf-blind icon would dare draw attention to that fact. Not even saucy Annie Sullivan.
While many biographers tend to frame the hardships in Annie's early life as a rags-to-riches buildup to her successes as Helen Keller's famous teacher, Nielsen details the lingering effects of Annie's childhood traumas on her adult relationships and behavior. The truth of the matter is that Annie Sullivan was damaged goods, and even the salve of Helen's decades-long friendship never fully closed those wounds. No matter how much Helen loved and venerated her, Anne Sullivan Macy was not an easy woman to live with. Fortunately for the rest of us, all the extremes that made her such a trial and a delight make for a fascinating read under Nielsen's steady gaze.
***************
Addendum:
I am vicariously incensed with Publisher's Weekly for referring to this book as "lightly fictionalized autobiography." In fact, NONE of Nielsen's writing in this biography can be characterized in any way as fictionalized. On the contrary, Nielsen uses Anne Sullivan Macy's own lightly fictionalized autobiographical writings as a source for her work, but clearly indicates between documented facts and the autobiographical stories of 'Johannah [Annie] and Jimmie Dunnivan' culled from Macy's unpublished memoirs. *humpf*
Peeled by Joan Bauer
Sarah Miller, November 3, 2008
In the grand tradition of Joan Bauer books, Peeled is:Fun
(but not frivolous)
Wholesome
(but not sappy)
Thoughtful
(but not taxing)
Realistic
(but not gritty)
Folksy
(but not twangy)
Seriously, what else do you need to know?
(3 of 3 readers found this comment helpful)
Hate That Cat by Sharon Creech
Sarah Miller, November 3, 2008
I love that booklike my grandpa loves pie
I said I love that book
like my grandpa loves pie
Love to eat it in one sitting
Love to eat it
lean back, sigh.
(With thanks to Mr Walter Dean Myers, and Jack.)
(1 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)
Blind Rage: Letters to Helen Keller by Georgina Kleege
Sarah Miller, November 2, 2008
Blind Rage is my new favorite Helen Keller book. No contest. I haven't been this wowed by a book in a long time. The author has such an amazing handle on Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan, I sat there grinning at the words as I read them. Over and over again I thought to myself, "Yes, that's just what she would have done/said/felt!" Which is a little presumptuous, I suppose, but it's really something when a complete stranger's interpretation of a person meshes so precisely with your own.Kleege originally wrote these letters to deal with her long-standing personal resentment toward Helen Keller. If you're a blind kid, Helen Keller is understandably the ultimate (and ultimately irritating) example of what you "should" be. But apparently, once she got writing and doing some research on grown-up Helen, she saw that a lot of what people believe about her is essentially a myth. Helen wasn't just a perfect and placid blind lady. It's pretty much a comparison between the public face Helen displayed her entire life and the feelings she must have really had underneath that mask -- crazy and unreasonable feelings like frustration (*gasp*) and anger (eek!).
What really knocks me out is how Georgina Kleege interweaves fiction and non-fiction. This whole book is essentially an imagining of how Helen Keller, and sometimes Annie Sullivan, really felt at certain crucial junctures in her life. Considering how uptight I am about historical fiction, it's interesting how much I enjoyed this format. But this book really defies standard genre definitions anyway. The blurb on the back cover calls it "creative non-fiction" and that's an apt description. Kleege begins with the accepted, standard version of an event or relationship in Helen's life, breaks it apart into a set of potential what-ifs, then fills in the emotional gaps with possible scenarios that are written like snippets of a novel. Granted, I'm not as well-versed in Helen's later life as I am in her childhood, but the portrayals of Helen and Annie's characters were so consistent with the way I feel about them, I was constantly unsure of where the line between Kleege's imagination and the real history lay. She interweaves bits and pieces of actual incidents conversations that I sometimes recognized into these scenarios, but much of the time, I couldn't tell if the remainder of the scenes are drawn from sources I haven't seen, of if they were just made up. The overall effect is seamless and arresting.
Honestly, I'm a little jealous -- mostly in a good way. This book is so much more complex and deep than mine (Miss Spitfire). But it's written for adults, and deals with Helen's grown-up life, so it has more freedom to dig deeper into sensitive issues. This kind of jealousy is actually a special form of admiration.
What I'd really like to know is how the general reading population will feel about Blind Rage. (Since I'm such a Helen Keller junkie, I'm sort of doomed to love it, and perhaps not an entirely fair judge.) I bet it's going to be controversial to some extent, particularly the section on Helen's sexuality. It so blatantly challenges the Helen Keller myth of relentless cheerfulness and compliance. Which is precisely why I ate it right up!
(1 of 1 readers found this comment helpful)
The Underneath by Kathi Appelt and David Small
Sarah Miller, October 31, 2008
Ashley Bryan nailed it:"The Underneath reads like a ballad sung."
Does it ever. You don't often find a novel with rhythm and cadence like this. Matter of fact, I'd go even further than Mr. Bryan -- I'd tell you that The Underneath reads like a round. A handful of characters and stories all sharing the same melody weave in and around each other until they end together in the final note. There's a fair amount of repetition in here that might make some readers itchy, but think of it this way: when you sing a song, you have to repeat the chorus every now and then. Just let the tune carry you, and have a good soak in the ideas and images floating by.
Now, I've been known to secretly roll my eyes when someone claims a book 'begs to be read aloud,' but darn it, Kathi Appelt's convinced me. She must have positively wallowed in the oral tradition before she wrote this baby. The narrative voce is just the right combination of wise and folksy, and you never escape the feeling that someone's telling you a story. Done right, The Underneath will make for one knockout audiobook.
This is a rich, rich story, which doesn't flinch from tenderness nor darkness, but neither is it lurid or sappy. It has heart, plain and simple. If you harbor affection for critters, folklore, Native American legends, the bayous of Texas and Louisiana, or just darn good writing, then wow -- treat yourself. I'm pretty much agog, and if you ask me, I'l tell you I think it's a Contender.
I should probably say something about the art, but any time I think of David Small I invariably drift off into a daydream wherein I'm a cat living under his porch, with his wife Sarah Stewart feeding me bowls of cream...
(3 of 4 readers found this comment helpful)
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