[ [ [ Plaintext[ PLAINTEXT ] By Mairs, Nancy ( Author )Aug-01-1992 Paperback

by Nancy Mairs

Five essays in Mairs's collection have been previously published in magazines. The other seven are originals that will speak clearly to the hearts of women in ambiguous positions as society dictates changes in traditional roles. A wife and the mother of two grown children, the author reveals intimate information about her life, personal and professional. Although she is afflicted by multiple sclerosis, Mairs, who lives in Arizona, copes with her job as a teacher and writer, in ways she describes in ``On Being a Cripple.'' Sparing herself little, she reveals crises that drove her to attempt suicide, the battles against the clinical depression that hospitalized her, and other periods of serious danger. It's clear that work and a keen wit are Mairs's strongest allies. She can laugh at her own fumbling methods of surviving. The author's convictions are stated in ``A Letter to Matthew,'' her son. She counsels him to reject the values that determine the attitude of elderly men toward women. Matthew, she writes, is young enough to change. - Publishers Weekly

Genres: Essays, Memoir, Nonfiction, Disability, Feminism, Health

Paperback

First published March 1, 1986

About the author

Nancy Mairs was an author who wrote about diverse topics, including spirituality, women's issues and her experiences living with multiple sclerosis. She received an AB from Wheaton College, and an MFA in writing and a Ph.D. from the University of Arizona.

She was diagnosed with MS when she was 28, and wrote several essays on her experiences as a self-described "cripple", including "On Being a Cripple," "Sex and the Gimpy Girl," and the memoir Waist High in the World.

Reviews

[Meen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Holy crap, I had to give this one 5 stars when I was only two essays in! These essays were at once laugh-out-loud (usually caustically) witty, grudgingly inspirational, pointedly feminist, and brutally honest. And ALL Nancy... Other than my own journals (and occasional brooding emails I write to others), I've never read something in which the author was so PRESENT for the reader. Maybe I felt that so strongly in her work because I identified with so much of her personal story and her sentiments about it. Chronic depression (though I never made any conscious attempts at suicide), abandoned-by-daddy little girl ambivalence about men and sex, social anxiety (for her it manifests as "agoraphobia"), seeing the patriarchal basis of all our life experiences once feminism opens your mind/awareness, that brutal honesty which most folks just can't handle, the compulsion to write (tempered, even stifled, by the fear of writing)... But that identification wasn't all uplifting for me. She quotes from her own diaries from when she was in high school and early in college, and OH MY GAWD my current journal is filled with the same immature angst and flowery rhetoric that her TEENAGE one is! How embarrassing! And how humbling, because she even says herself, when observing the "now-ness" of her old journals, "Jesus, haven't I made any progress at all?" I KNOW that I have written that exact same sentence in my journal probably hundreds of times by now--at least every time I end and begin (and re-end and re-begin, etc...) my apparently inevitably doomed relationships with men... :) Yet, all of this doubt ends in affirmation (though thankfully not mawkishness, of which Nancy seems to be incapable anyway)--determinedly accepting oneself "as is," wherever one happens to be in her journey: "This is all the grown up I get to be... No hope of a cure, ever, for being me." Life--as Nancy observes about writing--cannot NOT be lived for fear of failing at it (once you've decided you're not gonna try to end it yourself, that is). "It can never be right...; it can only be done."

AND, as if all of that weren't enough, the version of the book I have has a painting by Fernand Léger on the cover, so I have been introduced to wonderful artist I never knew about! BLISS!

[Lisa Vegan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Beautifully written autobiographical essays by Nancy Mairs, who writes about her experience with multiple sclerosis, her family, and other aspects of her life. It's a shame she's not more well known as she's an exceptionally fine writer, and this is my favorite of her books.

I have the 1987 paperback edition; The original hardback edition was first published in 1986.

[Sophfronia Scott · Rating 3 out of 5]

This collection of essays is well written and exhaustingly honest. Nancy Mairs is fearless in discussing her frustrations with her body "crippled" with multiple sclerosis, the foster son she was anxious to get out of the house when he turned 18, and the tangled intertwining of her mental health with her relationships with men. I admired all this as I began the book, but by the end I found it tiring as Mairs turns over the details of her memory in a repetitive, interior way that loses connection with the reader. I grew impatient with the text and was eager to finish the book and be done with it. The last sentences are: "This place is real. I can live here. Come by, and I'll make you a cup of almond tea." By this time Mairs has said more than once how much she dislikes being around people. It's weird to read her invitation when the sentiment is just not genuine.

[Siel Ju · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Being a writer made me strange. Or I was strange because I was a writer. Since I don’t remember either not being a writer or not being strange, I can’t tell you which of these statements is true.”
*
Nancy Mairs writes about her attempted suicide, depression, and disability due to MS with insight, levity, and great humor. I didn’t love all the essays, but many had real moments of poignancy. Also, did anyone else read this book and become really curious about the seemingly open marriage she has with her husband that she has with her husband?

[Laurel Perez · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5-5 stars only because it kind of felt like these very well written essays might never end. Let me explain myself: Mairs is a personal essay master, one who never backs down and never skips a beat. Mairs makes you question her sincerity, because she is so honest, it feels less human, when in fact she might be more human than the rest of us.

[Kathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bought the book because of the essay "On Being a Cripple," which I love, love, love for the way it thoughtfully explores long-term, chronic illness.

[Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book, and it contains the classic essay, "On Being a Cripple." She's hard hitting, smart, and such a wonderful writer. Her work on feminism, Catholicism, and MS is wonderful.

[Linda DeYounge · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very deep memoir about disability, being a woman, and the act of writing. Definitely lofty and a good challenge to access her level of intelligence.

[Joe · Rating 4 out of 5]

These essays really feel like they were composed in a different time. They are forthright and personal, but (thankfully) lack the edginess and can-you-top-this quality of many recent memoirs. Perhaps her best known piece, "On Being a Cripple", is striking in its rejection of the kind of fastidiousness about language that characterizes much of our current discourse about difference and disability.

Having said all that, I'd add that the essays tend to go on longer than they need to, and grow a bit repetitive in theme and perspective. Still, on the whole, the pieces hold up pretty well.

I picked up this book from one of those Little Free Librariees. Now I'll need to return to another one!

[Sara · Rating 3 out of 5]

I would have given it 4 stars if not for the last long chapter that contained so many repetitve events and topics. I enjoyed the rest though, felt like a one-to-one talk, and I highly valued the bold transparency. At times, her sense of humor reminded me of Fran Lebowitz.

[Matthew · Rating 2 out of 5]

I'm glad others can connect with this book so deeply. I personally had a hard time connecting to it; the author talks about disliking people/parenthood/marriage/sex at points in the book. There weren't any exciting events or concepts I resonated with. So 2/5, I thought it was okay.

[Eden · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nancy Mair’s autobiographical essays make her seem like a truly horrible person but she’s honestly so real and such a good writer. Honestly like can she shut up though. Highly reminiscent of Sylvia Plath. Somebody free her husband cause damn George deserved better what the actual frick

[Judy]

Learned about this book from the NYT: Nancy Mairs, Who Wrote About Her Mental Illness and Multiple Sclerosis, Dies at 73 http://nyti.ms/2hlneOd

[Carol · Rating 4 out of 5]

Episodes and essays from her life, a great intro to her longer memoir. Part of my plan to read some books I have been carrying around with me over the years. Glad I saved them both.

[Vanessa Singh · Rating 5 out of 5]

A beautiful collection of essays. Nancy is unapologetically honest. I find myself thinking about her all the time.