In my short lifespan, I’ve spent time with a variety of interesting literature that gives one much to ponder about. From mystery books, we are prompted to inspect our surroundings more closely. From classic books we’re assigned at school, we must discover why high schoolers 50 years ago read this novel too. Many, when asked, can jump to say they love the whimsy of high-fantasy novels, are intrigued by vibrant historical fiction, or perhaps even the lengthy philosophical type. However, one genre of literature that I seldom get to talk about with friends is memoirs. I’ll admit my first impression of memoirs was a collection of unsolicited advice from renowned individuals. I would later learn that not all of them are told by a Nobel Prize Winner, and instead are told by people whose lives may appear easy on the surface. Through the tribulations of depression, self-discovery, and pursuing their dreams, memoir authors expose what sometimes even their closest allies never knew about them. What I have taken away from reading memoirs is that healing is rarely linear. There are a multitude of ways in which humans process grief, change, and uncertainty, both in positive and negative manners, and to portray both honestly is what a good memoir does.
To be frank, I am often not receptive to unwanted advice. In making decisions solely for my own pursuits, it irks me when people make comments on choices of my own volition. Because of this, self-help books, cherry-picked for high points and superficial lessons, have never stuck with me. They seldom come across as messy and uncertain at times, though that is simply how life often is. Memoirs are thankfully quite the opposite. In her memoir, Crying In H-mart, Michelle Zauner openly admits the multitude of mistakes she’s made in her life. Despite the seemingly easy life she had led, she still experienced complex struggles with depression and letting her mom down. The memoir explores moments preceding and following her mother’s death, in which she reflects on her disconnect from her Korean heritage and their relationship. While the bond Zauner had with her mother could be viewed by some as unconventional, it certainly resonates with those who’ve experienced tough love. Throughout the memoir, Michelle Zauner never makes an explicit remark that suggests the reader take away something from her story. Still, it’s impossible to read through her experiences and not reflect on your own relationships and the ways in which love has shaped us. There isn’t another genre, I believe, that subtly encourages self-reflection quite like a memoir.
A common assumption one might have upon seeing an 8-year-old girl playing in her yard in the afternoon is that she’s taking a break after school let out. However, for Tara Westover, the author of Educated, that would be quite inaccurate. Her father’s fundamentalist Mormon ideology clashed with the public school system, which led her to be able to step foot into a classroom for the first time at the age of 17. Despite this, she not only attended university but also received a PhD in history. Her memoir punctures the bubble that many of us high school students live in – that people our age are all preoccupied with college and jumpstarting adulthood. To us, who constantly push the limits of our knowledge both inside and outside of class, being forbidden from education is far from a reality we can imagine. The story she tells directly invites youth to rethink education: at Andover and elsewhere, we sometimes loathe it and criticize it, yet for Tara, it was costly freedom. Yet, she’s someone who now leads a “normal” life, even if her upbringing wasn’t as such. The openness an author shares with us through their memoirs is one that translates into empathy in ourselves. There is not one way in which to suffer; neither is there a single path to stability, but perhaps we better poise ourselves to change the way in which we view the mundane by absorbing the journeys others have forged.
The voracious reader knows that even as you have your favorite type of book, you eventually need a switch-up. To that, I suggest that reading a memoir can be the most thrilling choice imaginable. Emphasizing with the narrator is simply unavoidable, as you’re frequently reminded that the moments of grief, excitement, and uncertainty actually occurred. Being in the front seat of another person’s life: realizing that “normal” people make mistakes, and have winding paths to healing or success, is the beauty of them. More so than any other genre, you’ll find a way to take away something to implement in your life. Perhaps that is something as small as calling your mother more often, or having more gratitude for the education you’re lucky to receive. Small as they may be, the power of the memoir is in the author’s ability to connect to people very different from themselves. So, will you be willing to take that chance?
