by Lucy IrvineSo goodreads friend karen just posted a beautiful review of A Visit from the Goon Squad, where she riffs on the power of nostalgia, lost youth, the seeming indestructibility of our youthful bodies and worldviews, how every bad thing is the worst possible bad thing, and every good thing the most powerful good. Goon Squad most probably does all these things, and so does this memoir, at least for me. Published in 1987 and now out of print, Irvine recounts her growing up in early '70's UK and her globetrotting ramblings all over the place, searching for...you know, a vessel for all that youthful, pregnant yearning I was just going on about. If you are a female and ever felt confused with what to do with your intelligent brain, passionate heart and attractive face in a world that provides limited roles for the uses of these attributes, this could be your story. If the structures of school or 9-to-5 are too stifling, but the structure of a psych ward seem almost a relief, and you can acknowledge both the difference and the similarities of those environs, this could also be your story.
But what makes this most definitely Irvine's story is her painfully honest willful inhabitance of her own body. When she stares into the sky through the branches of the Scottish highlands, she is so fully there, in that place and no other, perceiving through every sense her body owns. As she tramps alone through Western Europe, the reader momentarily forgetting she is yet only 15 years old, she is suddenly and viciously raped. Irvine recounts the scene in detail, every moment scraped deeply in her memory, and though the act is repellent, her telling of it is not, as she retains a dignity, a thoughtfulness, a respect for her body that she never retreats from, though she carries the horrid memory like an albatross. She may fade in and out of lucid thought at some points in her life, carried away by "love", fear, misplaced loyalty and assorted overheating passions, she never relinquishes ownership of her body.
And any woman this aware of her own body, who uses it however is necessary to achieve her ends (and I don't mean for intercourse — that's so banal), well, it's sexy. Lucy Irvine is so damn sexy. Obviously plenty of men in her life felt the same way, too, but she almost never seemed to notice.This is the woman who spent a year of her life on a deserted island with a complete stranger she married to conform to an antiquated cohabitation law. Running around an island in her tanned, wind-swept birthday suit, spearing fish and climbing palms, while you're off having your fantasy, she's observing the tide, praying to the sunset, feeling the sun kiss her skin.
These days I understand she's living in a mudhut somewhere in the Balkans. Well, that's according to her website. You can pay her to edit your manuscript. Email only, no mailing address. I'm waiting for the next memoir — what to do with all that unconventional, youthful passion when the body isn't quite the masterpiece it once was; when the naked native starts to show its years in the sun; when you're no longer that mysteriously beautiful, sexycrazy nymph, but an older,faded, tired woman looking for a sturdy mattress and a hot cuppa. Lucy, what came next?
|eBook format||Hardcover, (torrent)|
|File size||4.2 Mb|
|Book rating||4.38 (63 votes)