Girl's Guide
The
author brings many pieces of her life to this book, you get a strong sense of
who she is and the different influences on her, as well as a look into her
medical struggles. For such a short
book, the reader gets a lot of information.
Looking back on the experience of reading I can’t believe the book is so
short, I felt like I spent more time with the author than just 30 something
pages. Without forcing anything, the
author tells you so much about her. Each
scene and conversation brings in a lot of new thoughts and experiences without
seeming irrelevant or stand-alone. I
liked the snap-shot feel of this book, and the fast pace it went. I wanted to know more, but even without an
answer to all my questions, the book ended at a natural place, I didn’t feel
that it ended abruptly.
The
author’s humor is what really made me connect to her. Being able to infuse humor in what are
sometimes painful memories is difficult to do, even when looking back at a past
experience. This may be effecting her
life still, so a lot of these issues may not just be in the past. How the author punctuated scenes with humor,
and sometimes other peoples humor, not just her own, was something she did with
good timing. This was used for a last
say on a subject, or to bring a scene to a close. It went beyond giving the reader a laugh, but
also gave the piece structure, the humor was a force within the book that
helped create the book, just as much as the tumors or her family history. Even when the situation seems dire, how the
author sees the world cannot be separated from humor. When in extreme pain or dealing with impolite
doctors, humor is the only way through the situation.
The
author gives you snapshots of her family.
Her mother, who is rebellious and strong willed. Her father, who welcomes her to her Nigerian
family with a wholesome, and matter of fact type of love. It’s interesting that this is something that
she comes back to over and over, that she can keep investigating over the
course of her book and life. She is
someone who defies easy categorization, and does not align herself fully with
one of her two parental origins. Her
therapist describes her as being next to herself, not quite centered, maybe not
at peace with herself in some respects.
She references Ala, a Goddess of Africa, just as often as she references
Loki, a Norse God. She feels that she
may be receiving divine punishment, “But according to Igbo tradition, illness
is the result of offenses committed against
Ala, the land, or against one’s own spirit-double, or against one’s
ancestors.” (Adiele, location 272). Even
her Nordic side seems displeased with her, “All that Loki has left me is a crop
of trickster tumors in my womb.” (Adiele location 371). Not being fully from one origin has left her
with double the amount of angry Gods.
She has twice the opportunity to blame and punish herself. She may not feel that either side has fully
claimed her, but she has been influenced by each of her traditions. Each tradition interweaves with the other,
creating a unique lens with which to navigate the United States. Her personal story and beliefs are a
beautiful mixture with respect for both.
I
found the author’s interaction with her doctors a bit scary. Having a painful medical condition is
terrifying enough without medical professionals who are not always giving you
all the information or letting you know about all the options available to you. Her journey through different hospitals and
doctors was not a comforting one. When
one doctor suggested she get a hysterectomy I was chilled by the doctor’s casual
talk about the procedure, one that cannot be undone and can create huge changes
in the body. The author has friends and
community who help her through this confusing time. With her friend, whose father is a doctor,
and her medical school roommates, she is able to navigate through all the
half-baked information she’s given and find a medical plan that works for
her. The holistic medicine she explores
sounded interesting, I wonder if she kept it up over time and how she feels
about it now.
The author repeats
many times that one of the tumors is the size of a grapefruit, the size of a
fetus. Grappling with something living
inside you that isn’t a child does not sound comfortable. In fact, she often pretends that the tumors
are children, to give her pain a reason.
I can’t imagine what that must feel like, not just the pain, but every
moment you have alone with your body is spent with the knowledge that there are
large tumors growing within you. It must
be hard to concentrate, to not spend a lot of time imagining what they look
like and how they might be growing, how even at that moment, your body is
delivering blood to them. Thankfully,
the tumors are benign, her life is not in danger, but the journey of dealing
with this medical condition has only just begun.
-Iris Keenan
I really like your point that the humor in the memoir helped create the memoir just as much as the tumors and her family history did. I remember there being one scene in the memoir where Adiele discussed her troubling hysterectomy conversation with some other black friends, who joked that the doctor suggesting that Adiele get a hysterectomy probably assumed that because she was black, she had already had babies. Adiele describes the laughter with her friends as "tinged slightly with hysteria," which I think really highlights the fact that humor is sometimes necessary for dealing with pain--not just physical pain, but emotional and mental and societal pain--and that it is indeed an integral part of the memoir.
ReplyDeleteI like your attention to the tumor being represented as a baby in the main characters stomach. I also found that to be an interesting way to think about them inside of her. I believe there is description where it seems like she was nursing them too. Great way to incite emotion towards the plot line.
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