Generic Memoir

"Once upon a time..."

“All things truly wicked start from innocence.” " Ernest Hemingway 

When I was a young boy living in Connecticut, I did not have a very tumultuous or challenging life. Things were handed to me readily as things usually are to children, and very few of my joys were ever truly confiscated. I did not understand the complexities of being and my existence was still graced by that pure-water wellspring in which we begin; rather than the gradual, jerky bucket we know now.

My first honeysuckle brush with maturity came and went in the form of a bunk bed. Its frame was of walnut wood material, and the head- and foot-boards were a fairly cheap wrought iron " it was welcomed into the house with a rich blue sea of American sports and chenille. When first making the transition to our new home, I insisted on the furnishing of my portion of it. I was naïve and lonely - work and disagreement kept my parents both at length and at odds - and wanted a brother. I did not know that my mother was thirty-five, that a disease lowered her chances of conception, nor that any pregnancy she could undergo would be of high-risk.

I had a large appetite for hope. Oftentimes, reality can only aggravate and whet a child’s hunger, and leaves the business of satisfaction to the imagination. Thus, I imagined a brother, and was contented. Every night, I would untidy the dressings of the bottom bunk, and every morning, make them. Throughout the day, I would play, and laugh, and learn, with my “sibling.” He would disappear for family gatherings, and hide away when I was not lonely, and he not needed " this I explained to myself to confirm his authenticity. I knew he was not there but infantile denial kept me happy nonetheless.

The introductory taste of euphoria’s nature swept down my throat early spring of the following year. At that point, my grandparents, who then and now live in Florida, had visited our home every year since I was born. My mother explained to me that this year would be different, however, and the other way around.

“No cause for alarm,” she said, “Just a minor change.”

I did not understand her tears, or the desperate haste with which we left.

My fantasies could only be as large as the trunk of our Subaru, and so my bed and spectral brother were left behind. The 1400 mile drive was an effective disillusionment, and the welcome mat of Hurricane Charlie baptized me into the world. This malheur I do not regret nor would I repeal, however, as it has left me zany, optimistic, and perfectly willing to walk in the rain.

Author's Note

I took some creative license with the truth for dramatic effect, so I suppose the genre would be better titled "Partially Reconstructed Memoir". If you read this, and wish to critique it, please do so; I would be happy for that. Thank you. Word count, 441 sans epigraph.

Reviews

[ANTO]

"my existence was still graced by that pure-water wellspring in which we begin; rather than the gradual, jerky bucket we know now." - micheal I loved this line -
I liked the wry tone of the entire piece too.
I think I would read more about this kid and his life.

[Michael]

Haha, thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[ANTO]

I forgot to mention the title - which I like one minute (thinking - damn clever and sardonic) then hate the next - (thinking how the heck can something as personal as a memoir be generic). But hey at least it gets the reader thinking - and thus remembereing.

[Michael]

The title is more a product of my own laziness than anything else, I'm sorry to say. Because the writing is as personal as it is to me, I couldn't think of a really appropriate title. You give me too much credit, and I thank you (again). hehe

[ANTO]

how about 'I love rotini' ??

[Michael]

Ah. That one came about because I love pasta. Rotini just holds the sauce so much better.

[ANTO]

Ah, a man after my own heart - I hate to see a puddle of sauce left after the pasta has been devoured. I use the tube shapes (rigatoni ??) and I add the pasta to the sauce not the other way round. It makes for a thousand pasta-filled pipes of pure pleasure lol.
not as aesthetically pleasing though :(

[Michael]

That sounds like an ingenious idea. I shall try that next time. Aesthetics are a small price to pay for a mouthful of marinara goodness.

[ANTO]

my sentiments exactly. ;))

[grayscale heart]

Hi, I'm new to this site and reviewing so I'll do my best...but this was too wonderful not to comment on! The voice flowed so well and reminds me a lot of Gilead for some reason. Very wry over beautiful words. I loved this: "Oftentimes, reality can only aggravate and whet a child’s hunger, and leaves the business of satisfaction to the imagination." Great job!

[Michael]

Thanks so much. Your words mean more than... well, words could say. I'm really glad you enjoyed it. I'm fairly new to this website, as well, and not very active - I must apologize for the delay in my replay, as I just went through exam week at my high school. But again... Thank you. :)

[Harley Sapphire]

I loved it from the beginning, you got me hooked with the Hemingway quote then talking about your easy and innocent life. I think that we all have a part or parts in our lives where we gradually leave our innocence behind and get to know the reality of the world and it can suck, but it can also be beautiful. I love your last one, "This Malheur I do not regret nor would I repeal, however, as it has left me zany, optimistic, and perfectly willing to walk in the rain." It is a gorgeous use of not only diction but also symbolism. I don't know if this is on purpose but have you read a Farewell to Arms? I love the fact that you started with a Hemingway quote and ended it with the way Hemingway ended a Farewell to Arms, with the main character walking out of the hospital with his dead wife and child, reality just thrown in his face, out into the rain. Once again, I don't know if that was on purpose, but I really appreciated it. Finally I also have to say I loved the line "the introductory taste of euphoria's nature swept down my throat early spring of the following year." Amazing imagery! Okay I'll stop rambling now :P

[Michael]

Wow, thank you for this gorgeous review! I fell in love with Hemingway's poignant understatement and inspired imagery from the first moment I opened The Sun Also Rises. He was a great writer and is a great influence. Unfortunately, I can't take credit for the allusion that you've described - it would be great if I could, but I've yet to read A Farewell to Arms. (Of him, I've read The Sun Also Rises, The Old Man and the Sea, and Hills Like White Elephants.) Your synopsis though is very intriguing and I think that book has earned a spot on my to-read list. Anyway, my, now I'm rambling, but really, thank you very much. Your kindness and your thoughts mean a lot! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)

[Harley Sapphire]

You're totally welcome, thank you for the great read! I would recommend reading a farewell to arms although it is not Hemingways best work in my opinion. The main character is very flat and unemotional.

[J.A. Marquez]

This is a first for me. A memoir of a perfectly ordinary upbringing is rare for a reason. How do you make something seemingly simple more interesting? Well, I think you have answered that question. The manipulation of words here is very effective. The tone has gravel to it, so that there is an edge on an otherwise well rounded life. At first I did not grasp the final paragraph. It took a few reads for your meaning to be clear. I think maybe it was the sentence structure. When I scrambled the words in my head it made more sense. Thanks for sharing this piece. Great work.

[Michael]

Oh wow, thank you very much. Your comments are kind and insightful to a point that some of the things you mentioned I myself did not notice. I find that, when it comes to keeping things interesting, a quick plot progression is crucial. Not that there is much plot to progress in this piece, anyway, but I find people's attention spans grow shorter with each passing day. That is an extreme generalization, of course, but our world is very fast-paced. Also, you're right about the last paragraph. I don't know what it is, but reading it now, it is a little... "Je ne sais quoi," said the pretentious seventeen year old writer. :p Thank you again. :)

[J.A. Marquez]

You are a funny one. I wouldn't call you pretentious. You seem energetic, driven, a bit wry. All good traits in my book. Actually your comment about a fast paced plot is very true. I am working on a novel on here and it is a day to day kind of story, at least for the first part of the book. I'm losing my own attention! That is the one thing that stumps me. How to make something tedious into something exciting. If you get a chance check it out, maybe that head of yours can come up with some ideas to speed things along.

[Michael]

Well, thank you! I try to keep all my traits in good order. I would be absolutely honored! It's exam season (much akin to turkey season, but alas one cannot gratifyingly eat paper - ahem, no matter how hard I try) so it might take me a little while to get around to it, but I will try. It's very nice of you to extend that offer to me!

[Thesecuts]

You describe this so well.

[Michael]

Thank you very much.

[Thesecuts]

You're welcome :)

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Hi there,

You could develop this into a flash fiction piece very easily. I love the innocence here of youth and your relationship with your bed, and also the "friend" that became a sibling for you. I think all children at some age have these vivid images and pulses to be creative with it. Most people leave this behind as they grow older, but some people always have a little of this in their system. They talk to their inner voice and sometimes even answer--but it is endearing to hear about in your writing. I loved reading this. You have good structure and I think you could really make this strong with some revision. Some flash fiction is just under 1,000 words, and many people are interested in these stories because they can feature them easily for their readers. The readers like them because they can be read fast. In our world, everyone is short on time and patience. Thanks for sharing this moment in your life!

[Michael]

I see people rushing to and fro everywhere for reasons that are not apparent to me. My friend Irene walks extraordinarily quickly, and when I ask her why, she does not have an answer, only that it gets her where she wants to go sooner than later. For some people, I suppose it is just a matter of comfort, but I wonder what would happen if they took a moment to slow down. That is a very interesting suggestion. I'll consider it, and in the meantime, thank you very much for your kind words. :)

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Yes, I do think in those same circles--what is the rush?
You are welcome!
:)

[Marie]

Interesting. Not really a story, but a slice-of-life, and very well written.

[Michael]

Thank you very much. :)