A big thank-you to my book club partner for the gift of this book. This is truly a marvellous memoir, interweaving the poetry, memories, letters, and introspections about writing, family – children, parents, sisters – and suicide. Despite the heavy topics, this was a joy to read.
Miriam Toews, a renowned Canadian author whose novels frequently include autobiographical elements, turns her hand her to a memoir driven by a question from a book festival: “why do I write?” As she attempts to answer the question to the satisfaction of the festival committees (after three submissions, she is ultimately rejected), she confronts the emotional and deeply personal motivations: she is responding to the demand from her sister to correspond and write, and attempting to keep her sister alive through continued correspondence long after her death. The spectre of depression and death loom large in Toews’ life, and through her writing she works to keep the darkness at bay and strives towards understanding and love through all the loss.
I loved the weaving from present to past, the returns to addressing the conference question (and their maddening rejections of her answers), the snatches of poetry, her walks around Winnipeg, and the glimpses of her hectic cozy family life. I can imagine the joyful cacophony that is her home at Christmas, with four generations stomping around and making each other laugh and smile and cry.
I suppose we have those writing festival organizers to thanks for this marvellous book. If they had accepted any of Toews’ submissions, this book might never have happened.
Toews has not been a go-to for me before, but she does remain on the list of want-to-read. I enjoyed Women Talking very much but have not read her auto-fiction novels. Eventually, I will.
Fate: returning to my book club friend, with gratitude.
4 – published 2025
8 – female author
11 – referral/chosen
23 – memoir
27 – gift
33 – Canadian
rclr 
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