In the eminence of death, only the truth will do.
I came to this book blind, which is to say that I've never read any of Catherine Cookson's novels and haven't read her first autobiography, which was published when she was 50 years old. That must have seemed like a good time to sum up her life. She was a prolific and popular author and much in demand as a speaker. Given her constant, serious ill health, she must have doubted if she would make old bones and wanted to tell her story while she could.
But in spite of her illnesses, she lived another 36 years. At 86, blind and failing, she wrote this second autobiography. She wanted to tell about her life as a middle-aged and elderly woman. More importantly, she wanted to tell the TRUTH about her early life. When her first autobiography appeared in the 1950's, unpleasant realities of life were kept secret. Alcoholism, especially in women, wasn't acknowledged in society. It was accepted that a man's life could be driven by alcohol addiction, but not a woman. Betty Ford (and others) had not yet broken through the barriers to bring the shameful secret into the light.
Cookson says that her first autobiography ("Our Kate") was marred by her unwillingness to tell the stark truth about her mother. In that book, she wrote about a fantasy mother; the one her mother COULD have been had her life not been controlled by alcohol. It was a typical, sanitized 1950's autobiography. By her 80's, she understood the danger of prettying things up. Evils that are glossed over and denied are unworthy of both the writer and the reader. This time, she was going to tell the truth.
Her life was harsh, by any standards. Born illegitimate at a time when society shunned "bastards", raised in poverty, and bedeviled by one serious illness after another, her very survival seems like a miracle. She survived and (eventually) thrived because of her sharp wits and her capacity for hard work. She was a talented artist and for a time in her teens and early twenties, she was able to make a living doing pen-and-ink drawings. That ended when she was diagnosed with lead poisoning from the ink.
One of the few jobs open to women in the 1920's was that of laundress. She was hired to work in the laundry department at a large workhouse - really an institution for the elderly and disabled. She rose to the position of manager and saved enough money to buy a large house.
Taking in boarders added to her income and allowed her to provide jobs for her mother and her frenemy Annie Smith. One of her boarders was a young school teacher named Tom Cookson. Meeting him changed her life permanently and for the better. They continued to be loving partners until her death at the age of 86. Tom was desolate at the loss of his wife and survived her by only a few weeks.
Although her ill health continued, the support and encouragement of her husband gave her the confidence to write. Her stories about working class people became immensely popular. At the time of her death, she was the best-selling author in England. Her success brought them financial security and even some luxury. It's heartwarming to think that this woman who suffered so much was granted some comfort and success in later life.
For all that, it's a strange story. Her tales of her trouble-making mother, her jealous friends, and the things that she suffered at the hands of doctors, landlords, relatives, and others sounds like a modern "Perils of Pauline." Sometimes it seems as if she attached herself to toxic people so that she could be hurt and complain about it. I don't think that was the case. I think she let people take advantage of her and hurt her because she lacked the confidence to push them away or to stand up to them. Growing up friendless, she craved friendship and popularity. Sometimes she bought friendship at a harsh price.
Her touchiness reminds me of friends who are children of alcoholics. Today, we understand the constant uncertainly and fear that comes from growing up with an alcoholic parent. We acknowledge the lasting emotional scars it leaves. Ms. Cookson lived in an era when no one talked about it. She had to find her way as best she could.
It's a gripping book and an eye-opening one. Cookson is remembered for her novels, but she should also be remembered for her tenacity and grit. I'm glad to have the opportunity to get to know this remarkable woman.