Book Review 2012-002
The Guardians: An Elegy by Sarah Manguso
2012 by FSG, 104 pages
(This book actually publishes in early March--this copy was sent to me as a review copy by FSG).
It's not often I grab something from my TBR pile that has the word memoir on it, and I can't even remember the last time I read an Elegy. However, this book that recently arrived in the mail, it was a) short, and b) written by Sarah Manguso, whose writing I remembered having enjoyed a great deal when reading a poem of hers in Unsaid a couple of years back.
So, I cracked this one open, intending on taking a peek at it. It's truly shorter than the 104 pages as the interior almost reminds me of a Large Print book, and I only note that so the fact that I set the book down less than 45 minutes later doesn't sound like I blew through it not paying attention to Manguso's wonderful writing, not enjoying the way she bounced around from various topics that while not immediatlely seeming cohesive, were very much so (somewhat like the book's cover, which I didn't really pick up on until seeing the book from a distance). That wasn't the case at all. I found myself completely immersed in The Guardians: An Elegy.
The work starts off with a note about a newspaper carrying a story of a man jumping to his death in front of a train. Manguso then writes that were she a journalist, she'd have interviewed everybody she could find that was on that train, that she'd talk to the man's family members and friends. But she's not a journalist, and in fact, she was one of the man's friends. Her friend, Harris, had left a facility that he had committed himself to and then had about ten hours of time to himself, time that remains unexplained, before jumping in front of the train that ended his life. The fact that Manguso is not a journalist makes this book a unique and very worthy read.
As one who has taken anti-psychotic medication for over a decade herself, Manguso is familiar, I'd say much more than the typical person (and seemingly moreso than some in the medical profession through this book), with potential reactions to certain medications. Especially when it comes to Akathisia, which is a difficult reaction to pin down with words, but to try from what I've read here, it makes the individual suffering from it very jumpy, feeling as if they need to crawl out of their own skin as the only way to relieve the pain and feelings they have. Akathisia usually comes as a result of having taken one form of an anti-psychotic or another. There are medicines that can relieve the symptoms if a person realizes what the individual is going through, which doesn't always seem to happen.
Instead of interviewing every person that was on that train, or that knew Harris, Manguso jumps around, first writing of meeting Harris and various stages of their lives as friends, blending in facts about Akathisia, various medications, her own (as well as her family's worries about it) dealing with the feeling of wanting to commit suicide earlier in her life, her beginnings of a marriage and moving from New York to Los Angeles, and more.
Manguso does a fascinating job of blending all of these in short sections that compel the reader to keep moving forward, to keep trying to understand her grief, which seems to be the true meaning behind this book, Manguso understanding her own grief and how it's working. Everybody deals with death of family and friends differently and through the writing of this book, Sarah Manguso seems to be working through her own grief over the death of her friend--the wondering if she'd been around (she had spent a year in Rome on a grant for her writing) would things have been different, was Harris having a reaction that might have been something akin to Akathisia that nobody else understood, why couldn't it have been somebody else?
I also wonder if timing has anything to do with how one will read this book. I picked it up two weeks to the day that my ex-wife passed away in her sleep. Did watching Manguso deal with grief through these pages hit me differently than it would have had I picked it up 13 months ago, shortly after my mother died, or than if I read it four months ago, many months away from the death of somebody close in either direction? I'm not sure. I do believe though that no matter when I picked this book up, I'd have read it straight through because Manguso's writing is that compelling.
4 stars
An excerpt was published yesterday by The Paris Review
Vol 1. Brooklyn posted a vimeo trailer for the book yesterday as well.
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