Early in Brooke Champagne’s childhood, her Ecuadorian grandmother Lala (half bruja, half santa) strictly circumscribed the girl’s present and become beautiful but know precisely when to use it; rationalize in English but love in God’s first language, the superior Spanish; and if you must write, Dios help you, at least make a subject of me. Champagne’s betrayal of these confounding dictates began before they were even spoken, and she soon started both writing and hiding the truth about whom she was becoming.
The hilarious, heartbreaking essays in this collection trace the evolutions of this girlhood of competing languages, ethnicities, aesthetics, politics, and class constraints against the backdrop of a boozy New Orleans upbringing. In these essays, Champagne and members of her family love poorly and hate well, whip and get whipped, pray and curse in two languages, steal from The Man and give to themselves, kiss where it hurts, poke where it hurts worse, and keep and spill each other’s secrets—first face-to-face, then on the page. They believe and doubt and reckon with the stories they tell about themselves and where they come from, finally becoming most human, most alive, in their connections to one another.
Brooke Champagne did a reading at the public library where I work about a year ago, and I enjoyed it so much I bought a copy the next day. (Not that I was able to say this at the time, since I was on the clock, but her descriptions of getting drunk with her dad in his messy house while he tells dumb stories about his youth…how many times have I been there? Jeez!) My library is on a shoestring budget and we couldn’t buy a copy of Nola Face when it came out, but I’m donating mine to the collection now that I’m done because I hope other people will give it a read.
Of course my TBR pile is mountainous so I just got around to reading. I’m stoked that I finally did, because it was excellent. I enjoy the author’s fast flowing style, mostly written in long sentences that feel like something unraveling, punctuated by short terse lines that bring it back to earth. It was fascinating to see a writing style more commonly seen in fiction, applied to the memoir form.
Cielito Lindo, Push and An Essay Entitled Mrs. were my favorites.
New Orleans is so vividly described that it feels like its own character rather than just a physical place.
My personal ethnic identity is not complicated at all, so I always appreciate learning about lives like the author's, lived at the border of different communities and ways of being.
There are many scenes here that will stick with me. A group of teenage boys slicing open and mimicking the rape of a stuffed animal from the narrator’s childhood. Her grandmother Lala taking her at four years old to get beignets in the middle of the night. A story about the night she and her husband were carjacked that’s gradually deconstructed to show the various ways one story will be told, depending on who’s listening.
That last story was fascinating, because several years ago when I was struggling with addiction, I found myself ruminating on the strange dynamic that often unfolds during drug deals. (It doesn’t appear the author would characterize herself as a person with addiction, but the same idea applies) I don't think I've ever seen this dynamic described before in writing, and it was a great opportunity for the author to explore the idea of what a “story” even is. In my case, I was a privileged, educated white woman who was out of my depth, but I was addicted to the product being sold and I was willing to take risks for it. And the person I was buying from was usually a black man whose life was a lot shittier and more impoverished than mine. But sometimes, that person was willing to rip me off financially or coerce me sexually, and i can't convince myself that those things become okay because of the circumstances. Typically in an interaction between us two people, I’d be socially advantaged thanks to my demographics, but now I’m the vulnerable and uneducated person- being involved in drugs creates weird subversions of power. It's as if drug buying interactions erase all the “shoulds” and “won'ts”...that young man isn't going to sexually coerce you, don't buy into the stereotypes- means nothing when you're behind closed doors with someone who knows you're afraid of what he could do. That well read lady with her noble liberal beliefs would never participate in a racist system where whites are less punished for the same drug crimes as people of color- until addiction is in the mix, and now you see what really matters to her. All our scripts for middle class life become worthless. It also forces you to really consider the unfairness and stupidity of life in many senses. How unfair that now I’m clean and thriving while odds are, not a single one of the men selling me those drugs is ever going to escape poverty and the effects of crime. And what a waste, that the world of deprivation these men grew up in instilled in them a fatalism so reckless that they're willing to rob the author at gunpoint and threaten her life.
I am glad I came across this book and I look forward to reading what Brooke Champagne creates in the future!
Such a powerful collection of essays! I really admire the shifts in tone she pulls off, from really poignant reflections about her grandmother, Lala, to tougher sections about her Dad or sister, all of it shot through with dry humor, none of it sentimental.
Some passages:
I was a terrible teacher. Rather than seeing the potential in their work, how an essay or story might take shape, I mostly reminded students how their writing missed the mark. Besides, I was beginning to wonder, who were we kidding, could writing even be taught. Especially when I myself was still, you know, not great at it. Any loathing of their work was just thinly veiled self-loathing of mine
on her Lala (grandma)
In that same phone conversation, she said something I'd never heard before: "You're so eloquent in Spanish. I can't imagine how beautifully you're able to express yourself in English." I think I responded with the same self-deprecation I always do, like my eloquence in any language was news to me. But it later struck me that this was her first recognition that there are two Brookes, one for each language, one she had no easy access to, and she loved them both. I may not be her cielito anymore, but I'm her escritora. She'd given me a laurel I'd earned instead of just a pet name, a cariño meant for anybody. It was a hard-won gift, one she didn't have to steal, one I didn't have to lie for-this gift was the opposite because it required the truth. It was the best gift she'd ever given me.
This is a book of memoir essays written by a New Orleanian of Ecuadorian heritage. She writes about her family, who are all fairly colorful, surprising characters. There is a lot of trauma that is presented in an unexpected and unsettling manner. The essays feel very writing workshop, as in the author is clearly a writing teacher who writes academically rather than prosy. I found it all very difficult to engage with.
This collection of essays is GUTTING and hilarious. As a New Orleanian, I recognized our unique city but learned so much from Champagne's perspective. Every essay is well wrought, intelligent, and HIGH stakes. Long awaited, the book was finely tuned by the author -- not something I see often.
I got lost in this world, which I've only seen as a visitor before. I love our narrator, who is sharp, irreverent, wise, and perfectly human. As she ruminates and reflects, I feel guided, entertained, and at the heart of her action, but never told what to think. Loved this read!
Not my normal choice of book but I picked it to support a local Northport gal. I really enjoyed her voice in these stories and even if I didn’t quite get all of what she was saying, it was an entertaining and quick read! Really more of a 3.5!
I forgot to rate this book, I read it for a class and really enjoyed it! This is a collection of essays, and the way Brooke mixed comedy with serious is so well done here. I also got to meet Brooke and she signed my book, so thank you again! Can’t wait for your next book!
I admire the humor, cultural critique, and voice in this fearless debut essay collection. Lala is a character I’ll never forget. I love that Brooke rips apart rules for academics and writers and creates her own.
Dr. Champagne perfectly captures the complexity of relationships in “Nola Face.” She deftly (and with no small amount of humor) lets the morally ambiguous stay that way, managing to connect dots without drawing lines as she guides us through her home city, her family, and her innermost self.
What a hilarious and heartbreaking memoir in essays collection exploring the search for identity growing up in New Orleans among a truly unforgettable cast of characters.
Look, the cliché of anything New Orleans-related is comparing something to food, and yet they keep coming with this brilliant debut essay collection. It’s a daiquiri; you’re reveling in the deliciousness of the words when you sudden find yourself reeling from their punch. It’s a beignet; the essays rich and sweet and a total fucking mess in the best possible way. It’s the sausage sandwich the Court of Two Sisters serves from their walk-up on Bourbon Street; an absolute lifesaver when you need it most.
Look, just go read the book before I keep engaging in these terrible metaphors.