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144 pages, Paperback
First published July 23, 2014
I sometimes feel, as a mother, that there is no creature I better understand than my child. This is probably because she can’t really say anything. I am beginning to worry, as she is just beginning to speak, that we are entering the beginning of misunderstanding. [...] A writer once said to me of his two children, “I found that once they started to speak, my friends lost all interest in them. Before they spoke, it seemed like they might be thinking anything. Then they learned language and it turned out they just had a list of wants and dissatisfactions.”I found this book to be both funny and charming. And insightful. That to. But, I think I'm reading it at just the right point in my life - it mostly contains observations and stories relating to babies and motherhood (all witty and cultured and well observed) - and my children are still young enough that this all feels familiar and well-realized and relevant; yet my kids are also old enough that I can laugh at this stuff and find the humor in it.
The Romantic Comedy
My life with the very young human resembles those romantic comedies in which two people who don't speak the same language still somehow fall in love. Like say, that movie I saw on an airplane with the wide-eyed Brazilian woman and the doofy American man who end up together, despite not being able to communicate via words. Or that series of Louie episodes, where Louie falls in love with the woman who only speaks Hungarian; he even proposes to her. Yes, it was like those comedies, only without the upsetting gender dynamic of the effectively mute female. Though with the same believability. And arguably the dynamic might still be considered upsetting.
(p31)
More FrankensteinI was able to read this in one sitting because it really does read quickly. I did want some more meat to a lot of these observations. Galchen said she was inspired by Sei Shonagan's The Pillow Book which I have not read so cannot make any super smart connections to, but I do hope (because I plan to read it one day) it has a bit more to it than Galchen's slim volume. Again, it's not bad, but because motherhood isn't my gig, I had difficulty sometimes finding a universal connection to her words.
Frankenstein isn't the name of the monster, it is only the name of the creator of the monster, and the monster himself is never given a name, which contributes to the productive confusion that leads most people, even those who know better, to think of and speak of the creature as "Frankenstein."
Dr. Frankenstein, the father (and mother) in a sense, notices the creature, shortly after creation, peering over the edge of a bed, like a toddler in his parents' room. Dr. Frankenstein flees in terror from the sight. The creature is then left on his own. For awhile he hangs out around the house of a family he dreams of belonging to; the head of that family is a blind man; the creature one day gathers the courage to present himself to the kind, blind man; the man listens, sensitively, to the creature's story; then the man's children return, scream in terror, and fight the "monster" off, even as said monster cries and clings to the knees of the blind father, as would a very young child.
After that, the creature becomes angry, and violent - also like a young child.
The creature eats only fruits and berries, and never meat.
Most people report that when seeing babies they have a desire to eat them.
So babies do appear in literature maybe more than we might first notice.
(p39-40)