Skip to main content

Go to Sleep (I Miss You)

One book that excites me right now is "Go To Sleep (I Miss You)" -- a graphic memoir about parenthood.

If you're writing about your own life, you have to make yourself a weird, dynamic character; you have to recognize at least some of the absurdity in your own behavior.

Lucy Knisley knows this, and she does the work very well. She recalls worrying--while pregnant--that having a kid would derail her important comic-book art. (We see an image of this art, a lady farting, in an upper corner.)

Knisley mocks her own self-importance: "Charles Dickens said each baby born is better than the last. But....seriously, though....Mine is the best...."

Knisley finds a vein called parental ambivalence/lunacy: how a new parent will urge, and urge, and urge the stormy baby to go to sleep....THANK GOD!!! .....and then, within moments, discover that she misses that stormy baby....How new parents--after they put the kid to sleep--will spend several minutes looking at photos of that same kid in bed....

And Knisley has a delightful scene--at 3 AM--when the baby becomes upset at having rolled onto his stomach. Trapped, the baby gets louder and louder. The tired mother silently thinks....Yes! 3 AM is a *fine* time to practice this skill!

Good art can be therapeutic--and this title seems to fit the bill. You can find the info here:

https://www.amazon.com/Go-Sleep-Miss-You-Parenthood/dp/1250211492#reader_B083RS9QKM
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...
Post a Comment
Read more