The 52 micro-memoirs in the genre-defying Heating & Cooling offer bright glimpses into a richly lived life. They build on one another to arrive at a portrait of Beth Ann Fennelly as a wife, mother, writer, and deeply original observer of life’s challenges and joys. Some pieces are wistful, some poignant, and many of them reveal the humor buried below the surface of everyday interactions. Heating & Cooling shapes a life from unexpectedly illuminating moments, and awakens us to these moments as they appear in the margins of our lives.
A delicious collection of teensy memories, all self-contained, cozy, and succinct. I was hoping some succinct would rub off on me, but it's not meant to be. Sigh. (See? Even the sigh is extra.)
This went way too fast. Seriously, the first time I looked down at my progress on my Kindle, I was at 58%. Slow down! The tidbits were like sugar. Once I started gulping them down, I didn't want to stop. I sort of couldn't stop; they were addicting. After I was done, I went back to find a few samples and damn if I didn't end up rereading half the book.
The author's strength lies in her ability to use few words to pack a punch. Her memoirs—sometimes poignant, sometimes funny--are at most a few pages long. There are a bunch of one-liners, too. Her recollections are poignant or funny or sad or wise or just plain interesting—they grab you. I was lukewarm about a few of them, but most I liked a lot. Most are just old memories that are off-the-beaten path. I would think, what an interesting and unusual thing to remember. And they would spark memories of things that I had hidden deep on my hard drive, hard to pull out. But with a little coaxing, I was able to dredge them up.
She talks about her mother, her marriage, her kids, her friends, her adventures when she was young. Funny interactions with strangers and a repairman. Throw in a few little memories from her Catholic days, too. I'm positive Catholics will relate (I know this because I sent one of her teensy memories to an ex-Catholic friend and she instantly wanted to know the name of the book.) One of my favorite stories involves a $50 bill, a lewd picture, and a couple of books.
Warning: Penis talk ahead! Skip the next three paragraphs if you want. It’s low on the raunch factor, so don’t worry.
For a brief second, I must talk about a penis. I must tell you this because it bothered me. Probably my only complaint about the book. I just question Fennelly’s point in including this memory. Actually, it's not really a memory, but a fact. One I didn't need to know. Of the very few things she said about her children, she mentioned that her youngest son has a big penis. I did not want to hear this! This was TMI in a weird way, TMI once removed. Inappropriate. How does she know this? It might have been added for shock value, but this memoir doesn’t seem to go in for shock.
I immediately wondered what her son would think when reading mom’s book. And then I think I may have figured it out. I imagine Fennelly asking her son, “What do you want me to say about you in my book?” And maybe he said, “Say I have a big penis.” And they joked about it and maybe he even dared her to include it, and they will be forever laughing. I don't know, I would feel funny saying that my kid had a big penis. This would be especially weird since I only have two daughters.
After I finished the book, I went back and read the Acknowledgments. I couldn't believe this--Fennelly said that her mother told her there were a lot of penises in the book. Totally cracked me up, especially since I will never forget her comment about her kid's penis. Seriously though, I don't remember a slew of penises--I can only remember five, including her kid's. (Which may sound like a lot, come to think of it.) And since she's succinct, she didn't go on and on about them. At all!
Enough about penises. I see I mentioned the word 9 times! This is too many times! I worry I've given the wrong impression. This is not a raunchy book, really it isn't. I just wish I didn’t remember that one little sentence about her son!
Sometimes funny, sometimes serious, but always interesting, this collection of micro-memoirs made me alternately smile, laugh, commiserate, and think. A perfect read for our growing ADD population. Check it out—you won’t be sorry.
The subtitle of this slim book is '52 micro-memoirs' and they are indeed micro. They are all less than one page and some are simply one line.
In this essay collection and musings of one woman's life, some were amusing but others ventured into TMI territory and should have been left out. It was a pleasant way to spend an hour or so for a chuckle or a nod in recognition, but now, two months after I read it, I find it unmemorable.
Scott was making dinner, so I curled up on the sofa with the old cat. I read the first micro-memoir in HEATING AND COOLING by Beth Ann Fennelly, read it again, and then I had to ruin the cat’s life by getting up and going to the kitchen to read it aloud to Scott. This happened four more times, at which point my 20 year old son---who ONLY reads non-fiction or novels with space or dragons in them---took HEATING AND COOLING out of my hands. He devoured it cover to cover, in one sitting. In other words...pre-order. These pieces are joyful, biting, lovely, deceptively simple, emotionally cumulative and sharply observed. I keep coming back to read pieces again.
E-galley provided by W.W. Norton & Company, Edelweiss and Author, Beth Ann Fennelly for my honest review. Heads up also to GR friend and member Katie for recommending this title.
You may be tempted to breeze through this short book of vignettes. Savor the wisdom, savor the humor, savor the read and when you're finished go back and read it again. You might be surprised at what you missed on the first go round.
This is an amusing collection of personal stories. The pieces are so short the subtitle calls them micro-memoirs, but whatever you call them they are humorous observations about one woman’s life.
The pieces reminded me of journal entries - a writer dashing off clever notes about her day, and I enjoyed the collection. The stories are so brief they disappear quickly from memory, but I liked them in the moment.
I’m a big memoir fan and I loved this unique take on the genre. Fennelly presents snippets of her life that give you almost enough. I appreciate the missing pieces. The style works. These thoughtfully-written essays range from a couple sentences to a few short pages. I want more!
I COME FROM A LONG LINE OF MODEST ACHIEVERS I'm fond of recalling how my mother is fond of recalling how my great-grandfather was the very first person to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge on the second day.
Numa semana em que aqueço mais do que arrefeço, esta capa chamou por mim como nenhuma outra, e o título também ajuda, micro-memórias. Aí está uma saída airosa para quem acha que a sua vida daria um livro mas, vai-se a ver, e uma dúzia de histórias divertidas e meia-dúzia de acontecimentos traumáticos não o justificam. Nestas 52 vinhetas sobre a sua infância, juventude, casamento, filhos e trabalho, a poetisa Ann Beth Fennelly parece ter escolhido a dedo os momentos altos e baixos da sua vida, passando com habilidade de um episódio inesperadamente escabroso para outro profundamente triste.
MARRIED LOVE In every book my husband's written, a character named Colin suffers a horrible death. That is because my boyfriend before I met my husband was named Colin. In addition to being named Colin, he was Scottish, and an architect. So you understand my husband's feelings of inadequacy. My husband cannot build a tall building of many stories. He can only build a story, and then push Colin out of it.
SWEET NOTHING He was dying, he would soon be dead, my mother had told me so. She had prepared me to expect the urine colored eyes, the distended belly, the dementia and palsy hands. I pulled up a chair to his hospital death bed. I wondered if I should say ‘I love you’, that phrase corresponded to nothing but I didn’t want guilt later, I didn’t want to suffer because the last time I saw my father I didn’t tell him I loved him. I could hear my future voice: “If only I had told him I loved him.” I wanted to spare my future me, whom I did love. So I told him I loved him and I left.
Entre recordações reinterpretadas pela maturidade e momentos hilariantes com os seus amigos, Ann Beth inicia os seus relatos de forma aparentemente inocente para nos puxar o tapete no final, não se coibindo, porém, de ir também directamente ao assunto, como em “What I Think About When Someone Uses Pussy as a Synonym for Weak”, em que trata de explicar a todos os que usam o termo “coninhas” como ofensa a forma como empurrou um bebé para fora dita sem sequer usar as mãos. Palmas!
I cannot begin to explain the genius of this tiny 107 page book! It contains 52 “micro-memoirs”; tiny snippets of life events that had me wanting more! Some are a simple sentence or two, possibly a paragraph, none more than 3 pages. All carry delicious succinct descriptions of rich observations, poignant memories, or humorous thoughts. Beth Ann Fennelly is an incredibly talented storyteller, taking the everyday often cast off and making it memorable and often humorous.
A small but potent book with essays that touch on love, marriage, parenting, and writing. A good fistful of these pages just skewered my heart real nice.
What a strange little collection of micro-memories from Beth Ann’s life. Childhood to Adult leaves no small, inconsequential memory discussed even for a paragraph. I listened on audio as the inflections were the attention grabber that made you laugh, cry or say wtf! You’ve just read of a woman remembering an orange thrown through a window, without knowing why she remembers this. You will either remember reading this and know why you remember reading this, or you will remember reading this and not know why you remember reading this, or you will not remember reading this, possibly forever. 4+⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
3.5 stars I picked this one up on a whim while sorting at work since the idea of a micro-memoir was deeply intriguing as someone who is nowhere near interesting enough for a memoir (or, God forbid, an autobiography) but has a handful of anecdotes and observations and just general musings. As you could probably expect of an essay collection, this was a mixed bag: while I enjoyed some of them, I found others boring or just plain overwritten with the sort of not quite purple but still tryhard prose that tends to pop up in some short fiction, seemingly for the sake of fitting in a memorable line. I was pleasantly surprised by the mention of my home town, even if it was in the sad context of being where the body of a young man who died in Lake Monona, and then unpleasantly greeted with a poem involving the preservation of a dead cat's body via a freezer, which I had to do last month and am still struggling to work through (not my cat, for anyone wondering)
I had high expectations, but I am sad to say I was a bit let down by this book. I love poetry and I love short stories / memoirs, but I think the combination is not for me. The book is written by Beth Anne Fenneley. It beinf a collection and every poem/story being so short makes it hard to empathize. Furthermore, some poems were really farfetched, for example 'Mommy wants a glass of Chardonnay'*. But in some way it was also nice that there was variation between sad, funny, and weird stories. The poems I liked most were "Orange-Shaped Hole", "Disharmony", "Married love III", "Two Phone Conversations, and "Another Missing Chapter in the Parenting Handbook".
* 'Mommy wants a glass of Chardonnay' If you collected all the drops of days I've spent singing "Row, row, row your boat" to children fighting sleep, you'd have an ocean deep enough to drown them many times over.
One of my Christmas gifts. I love memoirs-in-essays. Fennelly goes for the same minimalist approach as in Abigail Thomas’s Safekeeping. The pieces range from one line to six pages and mostly pull out moments of note from the everyday of marriage, motherhood and house maintenance. I tended to get more out of the ones where she reinhabits earlier life, like “Goner” (growing up in the Catholic church); “Nine Months in Madison” (poetry fellowship in Wisconsin, running around the lake where Otis Redding died in a plane crash); and “Emulsionar,” (age 23 and in Barcelona: sexy encounter, immediately followed by scary scene). Two about grief, anticipatory for her mother (“I’ll be alone, curator of the archives”) and realized for her sister (“She threaded her arms into the sleeves of grief” – you can tell Fennelly started off as a poet), hit me hardest. Sassy and poignant.
I had not heard of Beth Ann Fennelly's Heating and Cooling before, but stumbled across it on my online library catalogue and borrowed it immediately. I love fragmented memoirs, and this is a particularly interesting one. Through each of these 'micro-memoirs', Fennelly reveals herself little by little. The entries are amusing, and sometimes quite touching; Fennelly's approach is fresh and enjoyable. There is such depth and consideration to the writing, and I will definitely be looking out for Fennelly's books in future.
Dang it, I thought I reviewed this already. Flippin hilarious, with actual fire and lust, and soul-chilling gusts of loss and casual cruelty. This book makes me want to abolish the star rating system, because I didn’t love it as much as Portrait of a Lady or Department of Speculation, but it’s mind blowing in its own right. Take a hike, stars and small numbers, and everyone else enjoy this book.
OMG can this woman write!! about everything, marriage, motherhood, secret talents, vince vaughn everything with the keen eye of a poet but the sensibility of an essayist. quick, super quick reading for those times you're like, damn what am I going to read next.
I enjoyed this so much! It was delightful and well written and hard to put down. I accidentally read it in one sitting- I kept telling myself “I’ll get up and do chores after one more story.”
This was a quick read, but not necessarily a light one.
Fennelly's series of micro-memoirs range from funny to heart-breaking, tackling everything from marriage to motherhood to loss, to lessons learned growing up, to her complicated relationship with repairmen, and so much more.
Reading these made me think of how quickly life flies by, especially the older you get. I remember hearing, as a child, my parents comment on how quickly time flies by. I thought they were crazy because to me, at the time, each year felt like a decade. Now, as an adult myself, the years are starting to pass with what feels like an increasing frequency. Things that happened nearly 20 years ago feel like just yesterday, even as I can't remember what I had for dinner last night.
And that, I think , is what Fennelly captures best. The way that, as you get older, all of those experiences begin to blend. Not that you confuse them with one another, but in the sense that as you get older you can look on the experience of your younger self in a new light. They take on a different meaning, at the same time as you struggle to grasp with how long ago they really were. The way something happens as a child and we viewed it one way, and through the eyes of our adult selves, we see the same event take on a completely different meaning.
This is a perfect book to keep in your pocket for those odd moments you'd like to fill with a story or two. It is also an ideal book to use as a model for your own memoir.
Beth Ann Fennelly tells the story of her life in tiny vignettes that are both honest and poignant. None of the micro-memoirs lasts more than a few pages and each one leaves you reeling. I often found myself saying to myself, Now what was that about? and rereading the story from start to finish. A few places made me grimace with the writers-workshop feel of the sentences, but I'd honestly always take that over trite.
I started reading these micro-memoirs yesterday while riding around the city with my husband and kept laughing and giggling I had to start reading them to him. This collection are short sweet hilarious and to the point reflections on different occurrences in the author’s life that really build up and paint a portrait of who she is now.
She’s the friend that if you were on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, you wouldn’t use as one of your life lines. Her husband, every story he writes kills off a character named Colin which also happens to be the authors hot Scottie architect ex-boyfriend’s name. When it comes to motherhood you see how she reacts when her daughter after swimming one day gets a fear of water because she thinks she has some brain eating disease in her head.
All of the usual elements of a memoir are here in Beth Ann Fennelly’s Heating & Cooling: 52 Micro-Memoirs: mothers, fathers, children, births, deaths, failures, friends, romance, and lessons. But Fennelly, one of my favorite writers, delivers them in bursts untethered to one another, much like how memories come to us as we go through our days. Fennelly adds some poetic touches--not flourishes, touches--to most of the pieces, along with clever, flirtatious humor. At just over a hundred pages, Heating & Cooling can easily be read in an afternoon or evening, and I can’t think of a better way to spend an hour or so.
There’s no reason not to read this book. It’s creative, charming, relatable, and easy to read (you can probably finish the whole thing in an hour). The author uses (very) short stories to highlight different memories or lessons from her life. I really loved it!
I'm a sucker for a unique presentation of a memoir. I enjoyed Beth Ann Fennelly's reflections on her life. The pieces she shared were well curated. However, I didn't feel like I got to know her as well as I do when I read other memoirs.