Modern American memoirs

the long version

The best writers tell true stories that fascinate not because they are true but because they are good stories. The people in them spring to life: James McConkey's stump-armed landlord in Court of Memory, Maxine Hong Kingston's hilarious aunt in The Woman Warrior, Geoffrey Wolff's scoundrel father in The Duke of Deception. Their events are vivid: Harry Crews, playing as a boy, falls into a vat of boiling water with a dead hog. Ralph Ellison visits a tenement to circulate a petition and finds four coal-shovelers discussing grand opera. Chris Offutt joins a circus as a walrus and watches a tattooed woman swallow a fluorescent light. Zora Neale Hurston, doing anthropological fieldwork, runs afoul of a knife-toting jealous woman in a Florida juke joint. Their worlds differ: Maureen Howard practices elocution; Frank Conroy practices yo-yo tricks. A young Navajo herder meets a woman on an Arizona hilltop; young Cynthia Ozick stockpiles issues of The Writer magazine in her closet in the Bronx. Sixteen-year-old Don Asher plays the piano for strippers called the Glamazons; statesman Henry Adams in his sixties plays with magnets on his desk.