Most of us fall into the trap of the “allure of elsewhere.” Wherever we are, there must be someplace better. Speaking for myself, I envision myself in different places when life around me gets stressful, tedious, or just plain not fun. It’s easy to fantasize about going somewhere else where no one knows you and you have no obligations except to explore, connect with yourself, and engage in the present moment.
Karen Babine’s third memoir, The Allure of Elsewhere: A Memoir of Going Solo (Milkweed), involves a road trip in her Scamp to Nova Scotia (“elsewhere”) to discover her roots. This elsewhere certainly has an allure, but it’s not home. Home is the place to where we always return and if we’re lucky, we have loving family and friends waiting for us there.
Karen leaves her parents’ driveway, two grumpy cats in tow, and hits the road. Karen is a seasoned camper, both taking trips with her family when young and also as a solo adult. She relishes her role as an independent single woman, backing the Scamp into campsites like a pro while befuddled campsite managers watch. We need more stories like Karen’s, written from the perspective of women who have eschewed traditional roles, whether that be wife or mother. I have a partner but have spent the last 30+ years answering “no” to the never-ending question, “Do you have kids?”
The main narrative arc is the road trip across the eastern swath of Canada, but interspersed in the timeline are meditations and information about family, history, and genealogy. Some of the ideas I enjoyed engaging with included those about what you hope to find when you search for your ancestors. What drives us to do this? What are we looking for? I read this book when I returned from a trip to Ireland, where I spent a day in my ancestral homeland. I walked the streets of tiny Rosenallis, getting chills whenever I thought of my Fitzpatrick forebears doing the same. It felt important to me to go there, though I cannot quite articulate why.
She mentions throughout the book the responsibility one has when acting as family historian. What are the ethics involved? What happens when you come across stories that were meant to be private? Karen’s own family kept a family secret, but searching through records she can piece the story together. One must weigh the education such information can provide against the wishes of those who stayed quiet. But it’s those secrets that can help us shed light on our own lives and perhaps even help us.
I’ve known Karen for twenty years. We first connected through a fellow taphophile (cemetery lover) so I was pleased to read scenes in this book where Karen visits cemeteries and other memorial sites. There’s something we taphophiles share and it’s gratifying to see those interests filtered through the lens of another.
Overall it’s a book about the place you’re from. I’m reasonably well-traveled but I’ve always lived 30 miles from where I grew up. I’ve been made to feel provincial by others, especially since I work at a university where almost all faculty have lived in multiple other places. So I especially was drawn to something Karen writes in the preface: “It felt so good to read—and be reminded—that I didn’t need to go elsewhere, to more important places, to know something true and real.”