I wish people talked like this a lot more: The Unspeakable

The Unspeakable: and Other Subjects of Discussion, Meghan Daum

Fast Facts

• 10 absorbing essays on a range of subjects
• Brutally and bravely honest, Daum's essays lay bare some of her most personal experiences, and her real reactions to them, in her effort to avoid platitudes and preassigned emotional responses
• Topics include "death, dogs, romance, children, lack of children, Joni Mitchell, and cream-of-mushroom-soup casserole, to name a few"
• Daum also edited a collection of essays by other writers, titled "Shallow, Selfish and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids"
• The author has been called the Joan Didion of her generation - hard to get higher praise than that
• Worth a read, and then a second read (well - maybe not the Joni Mitchell essay, unless you're a fan)
• 256 pages

The Biggest Cry Comes First

The essay in Daum's courageous collection The Unspeakable that affected me the most was the very first one, "Matricide", in which she recounts her mother's death from cancer.  I read and watched Cheryl Strayed's autobiographical book and movie Wild in the past couple months, and this was another book that begins with a young woman experiencing her mother's cancer death.  

While I sob-cried my way through both essays, Daum's was the real sucker punch.  Strayed's mother is portrayed in glowing Laura Dern-perfection, bathed in light, singing songs, whispering to horses, escaping and elevating herself above hardships with a smile.  Meghan Daum's relationship with her mother, and her mother's relationship with Daum's grandmother, and Daum's reaction to her mother's illness and death, certainly did not get the same rose-colored treatment.  

Instead, Daum tells you right away that when her mother slipped from unconsciousness to death, Daum was reading a Vanity Fair article while her brother checked Facebook at their mother's bedside.  And, as her mother lay unconscious for days and weeks in what would be her deathbed, Daum describes unpacking her Manhattan apartment around her, unplugging and bubble-wrapping the lamps, so as to avoid a high and unnecessary month's rent after the end.

It's shocking to read such an account, including an examination of all the things about her mother's pre-illness behavior that drove her crazy, and I give Daum a lot of credit here.  This must be the experience of so many people, both with fraught mother-daughter relationships, and dealing with end-of-life care for loved ones.  It makes it even worse, I'm sure, that the societal expectation is that you'll cry at all the right times, and that you'll talk about death as transcendent and full of meaning.  

Having a different, less palatable experience in the face of that expectation must be very difficult.  It takes real courage to put those feelings on paper, and Daum may be offering more comfort than she knows.

Living a Full Life: Kids or No Kids?

When no one at your book club wants to talk about dying mothers (understandably!), this is the essay that will probably garner the most discussion.  Though for the record, I'll admit to feeling a bit overwhelmed by the topic, given that babies seem to be everywhere, and some people have upcoming birthdays, and there is an inundation of articles on careers and parenthood decisions on Facebook and elsewhere.  (Yes, I know, I'm not helping by telling the algorithm that I'm interested!)

For anyone who is unsure about whether to become a parent, here too Daum provides a real comfort and service.  She met her husband in her mid-thirties, and loves her relationship and her career and her life.  She volunteers with children in the foster care system, for crying out loud (another topic that she writes about in the book, with the same refreshing lack of sugar-coating).  So why does she call her decision, or nature's decision, not to become a parent "The Central Sadness"?

Daum has also edited an essay collection called "Shallow, Selfish and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids", and I may seek it out for some additional perspective.  Though, as a non-parent adult, I've always found some parents' "My Kid Comes Before Anything/Anyone Else" attitude to be pretty selfish, so I feel somewhat prickly that the new collection is titled so defensively.

The Other, Lighter Stuff

I haven't yet given Daum kudos for how funny she is, and how much of this collection - the majority of it, in fact! - is devoted to funny stuff.  Maybe that's because the deeply unfunny stuff (see above) stuck with me more potently - but in any event, this book can be hilarious.

One essay is devoted to how Daum tried to become a lesbian in grad school - she calls herself "Honorary Dyke", and has a hilarious bit about scented candles and wanting to belong to a community that feels more interesting than her own.  Another essay is about not being a foodie, and hating to cook, and only appreciating processed foods in a world that glares at you every time you consume something that hasn't been labeled "organic".  One chapter focuses on her devotion to dogs and the Rainbow Bridge.  One chapter tells the story of her near-death experience shortly after her mother's death, when a completely random, flea-borne illness causes organ failure and puts her in a coma.

And of course, one (obnoxious) chapter is devoted to Daum's status as one of Nora Ephron's chosen proteges (cue deep jealousy here), which involved being invited to Ephron's house for a complicated game of charades with Nicole Kidman, Steve Martin, Meg Ryan, Larry David, and other celebs.

Final Thoughts

The richness of the first essay about her mother, stemming from Daum's raw honesty and fluidity with language, kept me engaged through the remainder of the book, even the chapters that felt less powerful or were more difficult for me to relate to.  Daum's talent, honesty and humor make the whole collection a great read.

Daum writes that anything she will do in the future, other than dying, will be something she does "middle-aged." (Meghan Daum, you are only 15 years older than I am!  Therefore, you are forever young!)  Middle-aged or not, all of the experience she's packed into so few years is incredible, and the ability with which she retells those experiences and really makes you feel them is even more impressive.