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Briefly Noted

 One extraordinary triumph for Roz Chast was the National Book Critics Award; she won for a book of cartoons. (I think this almost never happens.)


The book was "Can't We Talk About Something More Pleasant?" Its subject: the old age and death of one's parents.

Around twenty years ago, Chast, feeling deeply ambivalent about both her mother and father, decided she had to have a "real conversation." Instead of addressing the topic of the Grim Reaper, she said, "So.....do you guys ever think about PLANS? Do you ever make PLANS....in anticipation of....impending THINGS?" Chast's parents said, "We're all set. We're fine. We're perfectly fine." And Chast congratulated herself on her bravery.

Chast loathed her Brooklyn neighborhood, in her childhood--and her candor is refreshing. She imagines the storefronts on her ancestral avenue: "METHADONE CLINIC," "GRIM Socks and Panties," "Sick and Battered Fruits...." Walking down Newkirk Avenue, she thinks, "Everyone seems sad to be here. Or maybe I'm PROJECTING?"

Chast bluntly describes the overwhelming anxiety that maimed her parents' lives. "I had a few rules to remember in childhood. Ace all tests, avoid contact with other children, do not die." Chast's father would sprinkle small amounts of money over the palms of various banks, in exchange for prizes. "FREE TOASTER. BONUS IN-OFFICE 'PUTTING GREEN.'" Then Chast, Sr., would lose his own receipts--persuade himself that a theft had occurred--and renounce sleep for several days.

All of this is fairly ordinary, I think, but we humans tend not to talk about the ugly stuff. Chast does talk about terror, resentment, and sadness--and she has this strange, mesmerizing voice that mixes honesty with compassion. I think she is like a heroic cartoonist-warrior.

So very grateful to have this book.










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