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Entre eux (OLIV. LIT.ET)
traduit de l'anglais (États-Unis) par Josée Kamoun.
En deux textes qui se répondent, Richard Ford retrace la vie de ses parents : celle de son père, représentant de commerce sur les routes une bonne partie du temps jusqu'à sa mort prématurée ; et celle de sa mère, qui, après une enfance sans histoires en Arkansas, son mariage et la naissance de son enfant, souffre des années de solitude, puis d'un cancer.
L'auteur, qui se trouve " entre eux " décrit ces deux existences dans ce qu'elles ont de plus quotidien et de moins extraordinaire, et pose la question : que reste-t-il d'une vie vécue ?
En marge de ses grands romans, ce livre sensible est l'hommage bouleversant d'un grand écrivain à ses parents, mais aussi une clé pour la compréhension de son œuvre.
122 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 2, 2017
270 people are currently reading
3235 people want to read
About the author
Richard Ford
240 books1,656 followersRichard Ford, born February 16, 1944 in Jackson, Mississippi, is an American novelist and short story writer. His best-known works are the novel The Sportswriter and its sequels, Independence Day, The Lay of the Land and Let Me Be Frank With You, and the short story collection Rock Springs, which contains several widely anthologized stories. Comparisons have been drawn between Ford's work and the writings of John Updike, William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway and Walker Percy.
His novel Independence Day won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1996, also winning the PEN/Faulkner Award in the same year.
His novel Independence Day won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1996, also winning the PEN/Faulkner Award in the same year.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 424 reviews
April 9, 2018
Most of us will be forgotten in three generations. All our stories and what made us who we are, in most cases even our very names, won't be on anyone's lips or minds.
Ford's memoir of his parents serves as an example of what we should all try to leave behind for future generations.
Published decades after both Ford's parents died, and now in his 70s, it focuses on memories of his parents. His father, a traveling salesman, he lost a few days after his 16th birthday in 1960. He got two decades more with his mother who died in 1981.
This is a wonderfully written memoir. It was a pleasure to read and I can't recommend it highly enough.
I've recommended specifically to my mom that she read this memoir because of the parallels in her own life. My mom lost her father as a teenager too in 1961, while her mother lived to be almost 100. Her childhood, as was Ford's, was shadowed by World War II. But like Ford, neither of their fathers served. My grandfather was too young for World War I and too old for World War II. Both went by the name Carroll.
Like Ford's parents, my grandparents waited at least a decade before having a child. There was this whole other life before Ford and my mother's sister came into the world. It's normal for people to wait and have their first child into their thirties today, but it wasn't the norm back then. Both my grandparents and Ford's parents were dynamic duos that were fine and having fun without children.
Ford, as my mother, felt the loss of never having had a conversation as an adult with their fathers.
As Ford, both my mother's parents suffered the loss of a parent at a young age. My Norwegian grandfather lost his father in a coal-mining accident when he was around 19 years old. My Irish-Scottish grandmother lost her mother from an appendicitis when she was three. Both of my grandparents were the youngest. My grandmother had two older sisters and my grandfather was lucky 13 in a brood of mostly sisters.
What I share here aren't much more than stats. What Ford does is to share as best he can who his parents were even though he knows it's hard being that even the people that are still here are hard to pen down. What he does is share his memories and family stories as well as trying to fill in some holes. He also makes some guesses while admitting that he'll never really know for sure.
Ford reminds us that it's valuable to think about the people that came before us. It's even more valuable to put memories to paper.
My niece is twelve and while she isn't much interested in her family's history now, she will be someday. I'm going to make sure she has the story of her father's side of the family. I'm hoping her mother will leave behind her side too.
If I don't write it down for her, so many gems will be lost. We stand on the shoulders of those that came before - to not know who they were is a travesty.
My niece's middle names are her two maternal great grandmothers. One of which I took care of her last year. I interviewed my grandmother that last year. While her short memory was a bit lax, her memories from decades before were in tact.
I know a lot of the family stories, but most of them aren't written down. I'm making sure to start now. My family is a rich source of writing material - I've always known that. But I've always thought of it as a treasure trove for fiction, which it is, but to leave an honest account for someone a hundred years from now in the family to read seems important too. To look at a family tree of names and years and places is one thing, but to have direct quotes and specific story's is quite another.
My mom is the keeper of all the family stories from her side. I need to get them all down from her before it's too late.
You probably need to do the same.
Ford's memoir of his parents serves as an example of what we should all try to leave behind for future generations.
Published decades after both Ford's parents died, and now in his 70s, it focuses on memories of his parents. His father, a traveling salesman, he lost a few days after his 16th birthday in 1960. He got two decades more with his mother who died in 1981.
This is a wonderfully written memoir. It was a pleasure to read and I can't recommend it highly enough.
I've recommended specifically to my mom that she read this memoir because of the parallels in her own life. My mom lost her father as a teenager too in 1961, while her mother lived to be almost 100. Her childhood, as was Ford's, was shadowed by World War II. But like Ford, neither of their fathers served. My grandfather was too young for World War I and too old for World War II. Both went by the name Carroll.
Like Ford's parents, my grandparents waited at least a decade before having a child. There was this whole other life before Ford and my mother's sister came into the world. It's normal for people to wait and have their first child into their thirties today, but it wasn't the norm back then. Both my grandparents and Ford's parents were dynamic duos that were fine and having fun without children.
Ford, as my mother, felt the loss of never having had a conversation as an adult with their fathers.
As Ford, both my mother's parents suffered the loss of a parent at a young age. My Norwegian grandfather lost his father in a coal-mining accident when he was around 19 years old. My Irish-Scottish grandmother lost her mother from an appendicitis when she was three. Both of my grandparents were the youngest. My grandmother had two older sisters and my grandfather was lucky 13 in a brood of mostly sisters.
What I share here aren't much more than stats. What Ford does is to share as best he can who his parents were even though he knows it's hard being that even the people that are still here are hard to pen down. What he does is share his memories and family stories as well as trying to fill in some holes. He also makes some guesses while admitting that he'll never really know for sure.
Ford reminds us that it's valuable to think about the people that came before us. It's even more valuable to put memories to paper.
My niece is twelve and while she isn't much interested in her family's history now, she will be someday. I'm going to make sure she has the story of her father's side of the family. I'm hoping her mother will leave behind her side too.
If I don't write it down for her, so many gems will be lost. We stand on the shoulders of those that came before - to not know who they were is a travesty.
My niece's middle names are her two maternal great grandmothers. One of which I took care of her last year. I interviewed my grandmother that last year. While her short memory was a bit lax, her memories from decades before were in tact.
I know a lot of the family stories, but most of them aren't written down. I'm making sure to start now. My family is a rich source of writing material - I've always known that. But I've always thought of it as a treasure trove for fiction, which it is, but to leave an honest account for someone a hundred years from now in the family to read seems important too. To look at a family tree of names and years and places is one thing, but to have direct quotes and specific story's is quite another.
My mom is the keeper of all the family stories from her side. I need to get them all down from her before it's too late.
You probably need to do the same.
May 17, 2022
"La scrittura è un mezzo singolarmente buono per evocare i morti" ( E. Trevi)
Un libro ben scritto e di gradevole lettura.
Il celebre autore americano Richard Ford ci offre qui una breve opera di taglio biografico/autobiografico sul rapporto coi propri genitori. Quasi un paradigma di famiglia americana del 'profondo Sud' , mentre sullo sfondo scorre la Storia del '900 .
Un testo letterario, però, con uno stile fluente e agevolmente fruibile, ma senza farci cogliere quegli spiragli di profondità che si avertono in opere similari poniamo di M. Yourcenar o di Lalla Romano. Tuttavia non si tratta di un libro superficiale né verboso.
Figlio di genitori tardivi, il narratore sente di essere "cresciuto pensando che dovevo essere più vecchio, e che 'ero' più vecchio. C'era stata così tanta vita importante 'prima' di me" .
Un 'prima' costituito dal ventennio di vita coniugale spensierato. La nascita del figlio cambiò tutto; egli divenne il perno di una quotidianità familiare più completa. Un periodo felice, almeno nel suo vissuto.
La morte prematura del padre muta ancora le cose, ma la vita deve continuare. "Potevamo voltarci indietro, e ci sarebbe parso di essere ancora abbastanza vivi, nonostante tutto" .
"Come madre e figlio non eravamo fatalisti. Facevamo buon viso e sapevamo che andava bene così" : "quasi tutto se ne va, tranne l'amore" .
Un libro ben scritto e di gradevole lettura.
Il celebre autore americano Richard Ford ci offre qui una breve opera di taglio biografico/autobiografico sul rapporto coi propri genitori. Quasi un paradigma di famiglia americana del 'profondo Sud' , mentre sullo sfondo scorre la Storia del '900 .
Un testo letterario, però, con uno stile fluente e agevolmente fruibile, ma senza farci cogliere quegli spiragli di profondità che si avertono in opere similari poniamo di M. Yourcenar o di Lalla Romano. Tuttavia non si tratta di un libro superficiale né verboso.
Figlio di genitori tardivi, il narratore sente di essere "cresciuto pensando che dovevo essere più vecchio, e che 'ero' più vecchio. C'era stata così tanta vita importante 'prima' di me" .
Un 'prima' costituito dal ventennio di vita coniugale spensierato. La nascita del figlio cambiò tutto; egli divenne il perno di una quotidianità familiare più completa. Un periodo felice, almeno nel suo vissuto.
La morte prematura del padre muta ancora le cose, ma la vita deve continuare. "Potevamo voltarci indietro, e ci sarebbe parso di essere ancora abbastanza vivi, nonostante tutto" .
"Come madre e figlio non eravamo fatalisti. Facevamo buon viso e sapevamo che andava bene così" : "quasi tutto se ne va, tranne l'amore" .
January 17, 2018
Il sentimentalista riluttante
Ho fatto fatica a trovare motivi di interesse in questo libro di autore pluripremiato. Richard Ford parla di se, e (soprattutto) dei suo genitori con tutto l’affetto e profondità possibile, con garbo e bella scrittura, descrive l’evolversi dell’America dalla grande depressione alla classe media dagli anni ’50, il mutare lento delle cose e dei sentimenti…tutti temi che potrebbero toccare, interessare, persino commuovere …invece… mi sono risultati distanti, noiosi a tratti persino fastidiosi. Non si tratta di un problema con il minimalismo della scrittura, che in genere mi è graditissimo, ma di una sorta di consapevolezza, che si è avvicinata spesso all’irritazione, che lui stava celebrando la sua famiglia, omaggiando i suoi imperfetti e amati genitori, cui ha dedicato le due parti del libro redatte in tempi diversi, come se scrivesse per se stesso e non per il lettore, in una sorta di seduta psicanalitica pubblica, del tutto priva di un vero tentativo di coinvolgimento verso l’esterno. Insomma ci si trova “tra loro”, madre padre assieme al figlio, ma da ospite non gradito.
E poi fatemi fare un’inutile invettiva sulle nuove tendenze della narrativa: perché si pubblicano così tanti romanzi autobiografici, un genere che personalmente non amo granché? Da Gramellini a Mari, da Simona Vinci a Falco e Rollo passando tangenzialmente per Elena Ferrante e tanti altri, solo per restare in Italia.
Se penso alla cinquina dello Strega mi accorgo che sono autobiografici 3 dei 5 libri finalisti (Ciabatti, Cognetti, Rollo), compreso il vincitore. Che ci sia un effetto reality in letteratura?
Ho fatto fatica a trovare motivi di interesse in questo libro di autore pluripremiato. Richard Ford parla di se, e (soprattutto) dei suo genitori con tutto l’affetto e profondità possibile, con garbo e bella scrittura, descrive l’evolversi dell’America dalla grande depressione alla classe media dagli anni ’50, il mutare lento delle cose e dei sentimenti…tutti temi che potrebbero toccare, interessare, persino commuovere …invece… mi sono risultati distanti, noiosi a tratti persino fastidiosi. Non si tratta di un problema con il minimalismo della scrittura, che in genere mi è graditissimo, ma di una sorta di consapevolezza, che si è avvicinata spesso all’irritazione, che lui stava celebrando la sua famiglia, omaggiando i suoi imperfetti e amati genitori, cui ha dedicato le due parti del libro redatte in tempi diversi, come se scrivesse per se stesso e non per il lettore, in una sorta di seduta psicanalitica pubblica, del tutto priva di un vero tentativo di coinvolgimento verso l’esterno. Insomma ci si trova “tra loro”, madre padre assieme al figlio, ma da ospite non gradito.
E poi fatemi fare un’inutile invettiva sulle nuove tendenze della narrativa: perché si pubblicano così tanti romanzi autobiografici, un genere che personalmente non amo granché? Da Gramellini a Mari, da Simona Vinci a Falco e Rollo passando tangenzialmente per Elena Ferrante e tanti altri, solo per restare in Italia.
Se penso alla cinquina dello Strega mi accorgo che sono autobiografici 3 dei 5 libri finalisti (Ciabatti, Cognetti, Rollo), compreso il vincitore. Che ci sia un effetto reality in letteratura?
March 1, 2017
(2.5) This short family memoir reminds me most of Elsewhere, Richard Russo’s memoir of his mother. Richard was the only child born to Parker and Edna Ford, 15 years after their wedding and once they were both well into their thirties – no common occurrence in the 1940s. He grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, but his father’s work as a traveling salesman took him all over the South and kept him on the road Monday through Friday. That pattern of weekday absenteeism, plus the fact that Parker died of a heart attack when Ford was 16, accounts for him being like a shadow here; his mother’s was the true and enduring presence in his life. His memories of his father are thus understandably sketchy, yet I’m not sure I agree with this self-exoneration, citing the difficulty of reconstructing his father’s life:
Even after he went to college in Michigan, married Kristina, and moved around for teaching gigs while writing his novels, Ford remained reasonably close with Edna, particularly when she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1973. He wrote Part 2 of the book shortly after her death in 1981; Part 1, about his father, was written 30 years later. This means that some details of the book – how his parents first met, their early marriage and parenthood – are repetitive. However, the tone is cohesive; if it weren’t for the Author’s Note, you wouldn’t suspect that this was written across such a span of time.
Although I admire Ford’s intention to bring his personal pair of ‘Greatest Generations’ characters back to life, I didn’t feel this book gave me any particular insight into the time period or the background of a writer whose fiction (Canada) I’ve enjoyed. I’d say this is for diehard Ford fans, or those of his generation who might recognize their own parents in his. My favorite anecdote was about his mother pointing out Eudora Welty to him in the grocery store. Out May 2nd.
And it was all much more than I’m saying. You can be sure. What I don’t know can’t rightly be called a feature of who he was. My father. Incomplete understanding of our parents’ lives is not a condition of their lives. Only ours. If anything, to realize you know less than all is respectful, since children narrow the frame of everything they’re a part of. Whereas being ignorant or only able to speculate about another’s life frees that life to be more what it truly was.
Even after he went to college in Michigan, married Kristina, and moved around for teaching gigs while writing his novels, Ford remained reasonably close with Edna, particularly when she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1973. He wrote Part 2 of the book shortly after her death in 1981; Part 1, about his father, was written 30 years later. This means that some details of the book – how his parents first met, their early marriage and parenthood – are repetitive. However, the tone is cohesive; if it weren’t for the Author’s Note, you wouldn’t suspect that this was written across such a span of time.
Although I admire Ford’s intention to bring his personal pair of ‘Greatest Generations’ characters back to life, I didn’t feel this book gave me any particular insight into the time period or the background of a writer whose fiction (Canada) I’ve enjoyed. I’d say this is for diehard Ford fans, or those of his generation who might recognize their own parents in his. My favorite anecdote was about his mother pointing out Eudora Welty to him in the grocery store. Out May 2nd.
May 26, 2017
One of my self-imposed chores is the family's ironing, done about once a week while standing at the ironing board in the laundry room. Too lazy to bring the board and iron out to the living room so I can watch tv, instead I have a radio tuned to Rhode Island's NPR station. It was then that I heard Terry Gross interview Richard Ford regarding this memoir of his parents, and I knew immediately that it was a book I'd be interested in.
This memoir is more of a musing on the relationship of Ford's parents with each other than it is a true retelling of their lives. There isn't a whole lot of information to go on; neither his mother nor his father seemed to be forthcoming with events of their childhood or their young adulthood. Frequently Ford admits he knows little of their lives, or what year an event took place, but the emotional impact of that event is clear. His mother Edna, born to a 14 year old girl herself, was eventually packed off to a Catholic school when her mother wanted to marry a new, younger man. But only two years later, she was taken out of school and put to work, and it was around then that she met her future husband Parker.
It's somewhat amazing that Edna and Parker found one another. They weren't from the same town, which is unusual in the early 1900s when people didn't move around nearly as much, and their lives weren't terribly similar. But they shared a love that seemed almost transcendent, leaping off the page and becoming its own character in Ford's memoir. Edna was the only woman for Parker, and Parker the only man for Edna. And once Parker died of a heart attack at the age of 55, a piece of Edna died too. She never really lived life fully after that; she was just existing. The love of her life was gone, far too early.
I really enjoyed this book, even though I haven't read anything else by Ford (although it's been made quite clear that I should). I think this is an important book for my generation and for those to come, to show that life doesn't have to be amazing and fantastic, that the extraordinary can be found in the most ordinary of lives, that a life fully lived doesn't have to look like the glitz and glimmer of the fake reality of social media. One can find a soul mate and do nothing more than love that person fully for one's entire life, and that's extraordinary enough.
Ford's parents had one of those rare foundations built truly on a love and respect for another (though they did fight, and not well, according to Ford). Their love had nothing to do with him, so had Parker survived into the empty nest years, Edna and he would have had a lovely life, not one wishing for the distractions of kids and their schedules to bridge the gap between the two. Ford himself almost seems like a bit of an afterthought between Parker and Edna, not that Ford sees this as a slight of himself or of his parents.
Read this to enjoy a depiction of an ordinary life well lived, of not being disappointed in your lot because you didn't expect the moon. I look forward to reading Ford's novels and comparing them to this.
This memoir is more of a musing on the relationship of Ford's parents with each other than it is a true retelling of their lives. There isn't a whole lot of information to go on; neither his mother nor his father seemed to be forthcoming with events of their childhood or their young adulthood. Frequently Ford admits he knows little of their lives, or what year an event took place, but the emotional impact of that event is clear. His mother Edna, born to a 14 year old girl herself, was eventually packed off to a Catholic school when her mother wanted to marry a new, younger man. But only two years later, she was taken out of school and put to work, and it was around then that she met her future husband Parker.
It's somewhat amazing that Edna and Parker found one another. They weren't from the same town, which is unusual in the early 1900s when people didn't move around nearly as much, and their lives weren't terribly similar. But they shared a love that seemed almost transcendent, leaping off the page and becoming its own character in Ford's memoir. Edna was the only woman for Parker, and Parker the only man for Edna. And once Parker died of a heart attack at the age of 55, a piece of Edna died too. She never really lived life fully after that; she was just existing. The love of her life was gone, far too early.
I really enjoyed this book, even though I haven't read anything else by Ford (although it's been made quite clear that I should). I think this is an important book for my generation and for those to come, to show that life doesn't have to be amazing and fantastic, that the extraordinary can be found in the most ordinary of lives, that a life fully lived doesn't have to look like the glitz and glimmer of the fake reality of social media. One can find a soul mate and do nothing more than love that person fully for one's entire life, and that's extraordinary enough.
Ford's parents had one of those rare foundations built truly on a love and respect for another (though they did fight, and not well, according to Ford). Their love had nothing to do with him, so had Parker survived into the empty nest years, Edna and he would have had a lovely life, not one wishing for the distractions of kids and their schedules to bridge the gap between the two. Ford himself almost seems like a bit of an afterthought between Parker and Edna, not that Ford sees this as a slight of himself or of his parents.
Read this to enjoy a depiction of an ordinary life well lived, of not being disappointed in your lot because you didn't expect the moon. I look forward to reading Ford's novels and comparing them to this.
February 18, 2018
Perché amo le autobiografie o i memoir? La risposta la trovo in questo libretto di Ford: i momenti più importanti della vita non vengono quasi notati dagli altri, eppure quando la letteratura o la poesia li traducono in parole assumono aspetti particolari e profondi. E' così che nasce questo ritratto delicato, sfumato, di una coppia di americani qualunque, con una vita normale, forse triste e banale a guardarla da fuori, ma che diventa preziosa testimonianza se sono i propri genitori. Qualcuno potrebbe obiettare che di biografie della propria famiglia e infanzia è piena la letteratura, eppure ogni riflessione in questo piccolo libro diventa la propria, e il modo di ricordare, o meglio, di non ricordare fa emergere il ritratto di persone diverse di quelle che si sono conosciute. In tutto questo l'autore se ne sta in disparte, come in rari casi avviene.
September 2, 2021
خیلی کتاب عجیبی بود. روی من خیلی تاثیر گذاشت. زندگینامه پدر و مادر نویسنده در دو فصل. دیدگاه نویسنده خیلی جالب و برام تحسین بر انگیز بود. شاید دوباره خوندمش . حداقل میشه گاهی کتاب رو دست گرفت و یک صفحه یا پاراگراف رو دوباره خوند.
December 15, 2017
Entrare nel passato è un'operazione incerta, dal momento che il passato cerca sempre, riuscendovi però solo a metà, di fare di noi quello che siamo .
Il fatto che vite e morti passino spesso inosservate ha ispirato specificamente questo piccolo libro sui miei genitori e definito il suo compito.
Le vite dei nostri genitori ,anche quelle avvolte dall'oscurità, sono per noi la prima , forte assicurazione che gli eventi umani contano.
Noi siamo qui , dopo tutto.
Il futuro è imprevedibile e pericoloso, ma le vite dei nostri genitori ci confermano e ci aiutano a distinguerci. La mia convinzione nell'irrevocabile mancanza di trascendenza della vita vissuta mi spinge sempre a pensare ai miei genitori.
Nei momenti difficili, molto tempo dopo la loro morte, ho sentito spesso il più sincero e ardente desiderio di averli con me: il desiderio della loro attualità. Così, scrivere di loro, non voltare le spalle , non è solo un mezzo per esaudire il mio desiderio immaginandoli vicini, ma è anche puntare verso quell'attualità che - ancora una volta- è il punto dove inizia la mia comprensione dell'importanza .
Richard Ford
**** 4 stelle per questo piccolo libro .
Intimo e sincero.
Il fatto che vite e morti passino spesso inosservate ha ispirato specificamente questo piccolo libro sui miei genitori e definito il suo compito.
Le vite dei nostri genitori ,anche quelle avvolte dall'oscurità, sono per noi la prima , forte assicurazione che gli eventi umani contano.
Noi siamo qui , dopo tutto.
Il futuro è imprevedibile e pericoloso, ma le vite dei nostri genitori ci confermano e ci aiutano a distinguerci. La mia convinzione nell'irrevocabile mancanza di trascendenza della vita vissuta mi spinge sempre a pensare ai miei genitori.
Nei momenti difficili, molto tempo dopo la loro morte, ho sentito spesso il più sincero e ardente desiderio di averli con me: il desiderio della loro attualità. Così, scrivere di loro, non voltare le spalle , non è solo un mezzo per esaudire il mio desiderio immaginandoli vicini, ma è anche puntare verso quell'attualità che - ancora una volta- è il punto dove inizia la mia comprensione dell'importanza .
Richard Ford
**** 4 stelle per questo piccolo libro .
Intimo e sincero.
June 29, 2017
Mr Ford has the rare gift of talking about the most difficult and important things in the most simple way, which hits the nail on the head, every time.
This memoir of his parents is loving and moving, a contemplation on lives lived and loved, on mortality and togetherness. He is clear sighted towards his parents, honouring them in the best way.
The second part about his mother is one of the most tender and heart felt things I have read in a very long time and it really hit home with me. The way he talks about their life after his father's passing and her own life, how she helped shape him into the man he is today, is as clear as any prose you can read.
This memoir of his parents is loving and moving, a contemplation on lives lived and loved, on mortality and togetherness. He is clear sighted towards his parents, honouring them in the best way.
The second part about his mother is one of the most tender and heart felt things I have read in a very long time and it really hit home with me. The way he talks about their life after his father's passing and her own life, how she helped shape him into the man he is today, is as clear as any prose you can read.
September 5, 2017
I really enjoy Richard Ford's writing style in his fiction, and this was carried over into this short memoir of both his parents. I really enjoyed it, but it was an unusual book. The first half is a memoir of his father, who died when Ford was 16, and the second half a memoir of his mother who lived into early old age. They were written 30 years apart. But more interesting than the structure is that really Ford knows very little about his father's life especially, and a lot of his half is questions, or conjecture (clearly labelled as such) about what his father might have been thinking. There is no written record - no diaries or letters - for Ford to draw on, only some photographs. His mother's story was in fact only a little clearer even though he knew her into adulthood. The members of his family led a relatively quiet and ordinary life, and aside from his father's death (obviously an enormous event) very little happened. I thought at first there wouldn't be enough to sustain even a short book, but there was.
April 24, 2017
Richard Ford is one of America's great writers. He has a way of answering the question "what is the meaning of life?" in the most direct way possible--by writing about living. "Between Them" is two separate memoirs, one of his mother and one of his father, written 30 years apart. In the memoirs, Ford describes the seeming unextraordinary lives of his parents, which at first blush seems to be a self indulgent exercise but upon further reflection depicts the fairly extraordinary routine of living.
Both of Ford's parents were born in Arkansas to fairly humble beginnings. His father, Parker Ford, was working in a grocery when he met his soon to be wife, Ford's mother, Edna. In 1938, Parker became a salesman for the Faultless Company out of Kansa City, selling laundry starch. The job kept him on the road during the week and home only on the week-ends. Parker held the job until his death.
Most of Ford's commentary about his father is conjecture and supposition. The memoir was written almost 50 years after Parker's death and it is clear by Ford's descriptions of his father that a great deal of time had gone by and that Parker was not well known to his son. However, that seems to be part of the point. Ford surmises that his relationship with his father was likely different from other children's relationships to their fathers and observes that "I grew up understanding that the view from outside any family, mine included, and the experience of being inside would always be different."
Parker Ford had his first heart attack at the age of 43. He lived 12 more years, dying at the age of 55. "I can recognize now that life is short and has inadequacies, that once again it requires crucial avoidances as well as fillings in to be acceptable. Most everything but love goes away."
Ford’s mother, Edna, was born to a 14 year old who left Edna's father and ultimately married a significantly younger man (who might have been close in age to Edna). Edna's mother sent her to a Caholic boarding school (Edna and her family were not Catholic) out of concern for her being too proximate to the younger husband. For inexplicable reasons, Edna's mother later took her out of school and advised her to tell people they were sisters. Needless to say, Edna did not have the most conventional upbringing and Parker's mother was never exactly accepting of her. Edna ultimely died of cancer while in her 70s.
The best part of the book is the Afterword, where Ford explains his view of life, his parents and why he wrote the memoirs. "I have always admired Auden's poem 'La Musee des Beaux Arts' for its acute wisdom that life's most important moments are often barely noticed by others, if noticed at all...This understanding has been a crucial urge for most of what I've written in fifty years...The fact that lives and deaths go unnoticed has specifically inspired this small book about my parents and set its task. Our parents' lives, even those enfolded in obscurity, offer us our first, strong assurance that human events have consequences."
The book is very short and a quick read, with pictures of his parents and his younger self interspersed throughout. The memoirs are consistent with Ford’s uncanny ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary and expose the richness of everyday life. If you enjoy Richard Ford and are curious about where his amazing perspective originated, you should read this book. Between Them will be released in May of this year. if you like this review, subscribe to www.frombriefstobooks.com for more
Both of Ford's parents were born in Arkansas to fairly humble beginnings. His father, Parker Ford, was working in a grocery when he met his soon to be wife, Ford's mother, Edna. In 1938, Parker became a salesman for the Faultless Company out of Kansa City, selling laundry starch. The job kept him on the road during the week and home only on the week-ends. Parker held the job until his death.
Most of Ford's commentary about his father is conjecture and supposition. The memoir was written almost 50 years after Parker's death and it is clear by Ford's descriptions of his father that a great deal of time had gone by and that Parker was not well known to his son. However, that seems to be part of the point. Ford surmises that his relationship with his father was likely different from other children's relationships to their fathers and observes that "I grew up understanding that the view from outside any family, mine included, and the experience of being inside would always be different."
Parker Ford had his first heart attack at the age of 43. He lived 12 more years, dying at the age of 55. "I can recognize now that life is short and has inadequacies, that once again it requires crucial avoidances as well as fillings in to be acceptable. Most everything but love goes away."
Ford’s mother, Edna, was born to a 14 year old who left Edna's father and ultimately married a significantly younger man (who might have been close in age to Edna). Edna's mother sent her to a Caholic boarding school (Edna and her family were not Catholic) out of concern for her being too proximate to the younger husband. For inexplicable reasons, Edna's mother later took her out of school and advised her to tell people they were sisters. Needless to say, Edna did not have the most conventional upbringing and Parker's mother was never exactly accepting of her. Edna ultimely died of cancer while in her 70s.
The best part of the book is the Afterword, where Ford explains his view of life, his parents and why he wrote the memoirs. "I have always admired Auden's poem 'La Musee des Beaux Arts' for its acute wisdom that life's most important moments are often barely noticed by others, if noticed at all...This understanding has been a crucial urge for most of what I've written in fifty years...The fact that lives and deaths go unnoticed has specifically inspired this small book about my parents and set its task. Our parents' lives, even those enfolded in obscurity, offer us our first, strong assurance that human events have consequences."
The book is very short and a quick read, with pictures of his parents and his younger self interspersed throughout. The memoirs are consistent with Ford’s uncanny ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary and expose the richness of everyday life. If you enjoy Richard Ford and are curious about where his amazing perspective originated, you should read this book. Between Them will be released in May of this year. if you like this review, subscribe to www.frombriefstobooks.com for more
June 14, 2025
I found the format to be awkward and underwhelming. There are two halves to this slim book, one about his father, and one about his mother; the two sections were written 30 years apart.
Naturally, there is much overlap between the two sections, since it is impossible to write about one parent without involving the marriage and the family. The first section, about the father, was written more recently and is somewhat more evolved (while riddled with admissions of "I don't know this, I don't know that"). The second section was more underwhelming, and I felt the two sections could have been better integrated into one sequential narrative.
Rounding up to 3 stars on this one.
Naturally, there is much overlap between the two sections, since it is impossible to write about one parent without involving the marriage and the family. The first section, about the father, was written more recently and is somewhat more evolved (while riddled with admissions of "I don't know this, I don't know that"). The second section was more underwhelming, and I felt the two sections could have been better integrated into one sequential narrative.
Rounding up to 3 stars on this one.
November 12, 2018
Φέτος τον Ιανουάριο ήρθα για πρώτη φορά σε επαφή με το έργο του Ρίτσαρντ Φορντ, διαβάζοντας το "Άγρια ζωή", ένα πραγματικό πολύ όμορφο και καλογραμμένο μυθιστόρημα, που παραλίγο να τσιμπήσει πέντε αστεράκια από μένα (σε δεύτερη ανάγνωση μπορεί και να μη διστάσω). Όσον αφορά το "Μεταξύ τους", είναι ένα βιβλίο ιδιαίτερο και ξεχωριστό, μια κατάθεση ψυχής του συγγραφέα για τους γονείς του, ένα ταξίδι πίσω στον χρόνο και τη μνήμη, μια προσπάθεια να θυμηθεί στιγμές, εικόνες και σκέψεις για τους γονείς του και τα παιδικά του χρόνια, μια διήγηση αρκετά συγκινητική και γεμάτη ευγένεια και τρυφερότητα που αναδεικνύει την αγάπη που είχε ο ένας για τον άλλον, αλλά και για τον μοναδικό τους γιο. Παράλληλα, μπορεί να πει κανείς ότι απεικονίζεται εμμέσως πλην σαφώς και η Αμερικάνικη κοινωνία των μέσων του 20ου αιώνα. Πρόκειται για ένα ιδιαίτερα προσωπικό και εξαιρετικά καλογραμμένο βιβλίο, το οποίο με άγγιξε έως ένα βαθμό. Χαίρομαι πολύ που το διάβασα.
July 28, 2019
Își amintește culorile costumelor tatălui, înălțimea, greutatea sau înfățișarea danturii, știe cum suna vocea mamei, dar habar nu are cum arăta cu adevarat viața lor interioară. Asta și pentru că l-au avut la aproape 40 de ani, iar până la vârsta respectivă, reușiseră să-și construiască o viață de sine stătătoare, funcțională și fericită. Așa că, odată ce a apărut în viața lor, copilul a simțit că se află undeva “Între ei”, nașterea lui determinând numeroase schimbări în dinamica cuplului – inclusiv mutarea într-un loc fix. Lui Richard Ford îi este, cumva, teamă c-a intrerupt viața fericită și fără griji a părinților:
“Am crescut simțind că ar trebui să fiu mai mare sau că era mai mare. O parte atât de importantă din viață se petrecuse deja înainte de mine, iar eu nu știam nimic despre ea.”
Părinții lui s-au iubit mult, aveau o relație extrem de puternică, de invidiat pentru oricine ar citi volumul, însă tocmai despărțirea celor doi, o despărțire brutală, îl face pe Richard Ford să realizeze că dispariția – latentă sau bruscă, este singura constantă din viața noastră:
"Pot înțelege acum că viața e scurtă și cu multe imperfecțiuni. Că este nevoie de sustrageri și de completări ca să devină acceptabilă. În afară de iubire, aproape orice altceva dispare."
De asta sau mai ales și de asta, e important să ne bucurăm de ceea ce avem înainte de-a fi transformat în absență. Richard Ford construiește din dispariție un volum de o frumusețe incredibilă – un echilibru al resemnării, durerii, înțelegerii, dorului, iubirii. Un volum ca o viață, un volum care chiar așa se încheie:
“Absențele par să înconjoare totul și să pătrundă peste tot. Și cu toate că înțeleg asta, nu o pot privi ca pe o pierdere sau ca pe un regret, pentru că pur și simplu așa e viața: încă un adevăr imuabil pe care trebuie să-l vedem.”
“Am crescut simțind că ar trebui să fiu mai mare sau că era mai mare. O parte atât de importantă din viață se petrecuse deja înainte de mine, iar eu nu știam nimic despre ea.”
Părinții lui s-au iubit mult, aveau o relație extrem de puternică, de invidiat pentru oricine ar citi volumul, însă tocmai despărțirea celor doi, o despărțire brutală, îl face pe Richard Ford să realizeze că dispariția – latentă sau bruscă, este singura constantă din viața noastră:
"Pot înțelege acum că viața e scurtă și cu multe imperfecțiuni. Că este nevoie de sustrageri și de completări ca să devină acceptabilă. În afară de iubire, aproape orice altceva dispare."
De asta sau mai ales și de asta, e important să ne bucurăm de ceea ce avem înainte de-a fi transformat în absență. Richard Ford construiește din dispariție un volum de o frumusețe incredibilă – un echilibru al resemnării, durerii, înțelegerii, dorului, iubirii. Un volum ca o viață, un volum care chiar așa se încheie:
“Absențele par să înconjoare totul și să pătrundă peste tot. Și cu toate că înțeleg asta, nu o pot privi ca pe o pierdere sau ca pe un regret, pentru că pur și simplu așa e viața: încă un adevăr imuabil pe care trebuie să-l vedem.”
September 9, 2022
Delicato e a tratti commovente memoir sui propri genitori da parte di Richard Ford.
Sarà che sono in quella fase della vita in cui sto prendendo coscienza del fatto che i miei genitori stanno invecchiando e un domani non ci saranno più e sarà che mi ritrovo in certe considerazioni sulla vita con i genitori fatte dall'autore, fatto sta che mi è piaciuto molto e mi ha toccato da vicino.
I nostri genitori ci legano intimamente , chiusi come siamo nelle nostre vite , a una cosa che non siamo , creando una sorta di " separatezza congiunta " e un utile mistero , per cui anche quando ci troviamo insieme a loro siamo soli .
Tra loro , il titolo di questo libro , vuole in parte suggerire che , nascendo , io mi sono letteralmente intromesso tra i miei genitori , occupando un posto virtuale dove sono stato protetto e adorato finché sono vissuti . Ma il titolo vuole anche , in parte , rappresentare la loro inestirpabile singolarità : sia nel matrimonio che nella loro vita di genitori .
L'amore , come sempre , è causa di bellezza .
Sarà che sono in quella fase della vita in cui sto prendendo coscienza del fatto che i miei genitori stanno invecchiando e un domani non ci saranno più e sarà che mi ritrovo in certe considerazioni sulla vita con i genitori fatte dall'autore, fatto sta che mi è piaciuto molto e mi ha toccato da vicino.
I nostri genitori ci legano intimamente , chiusi come siamo nelle nostre vite , a una cosa che non siamo , creando una sorta di " separatezza congiunta " e un utile mistero , per cui anche quando ci troviamo insieme a loro siamo soli .
Tra loro , il titolo di questo libro , vuole in parte suggerire che , nascendo , io mi sono letteralmente intromesso tra i miei genitori , occupando un posto virtuale dove sono stato protetto e adorato finché sono vissuti . Ma il titolo vuole anche , in parte , rappresentare la loro inestirpabile singolarità : sia nel matrimonio che nella loro vita di genitori .
L'amore , come sempre , è causa di bellezza .
December 20, 2017
SOLO PER FORDISTI SPINTI
Ineludibile per comprendere il suo universo poetico.
Composto da due parti, nella prima prevale il ricordo del padre (con tratti più epici, forse perché il ricordo si arresta all'infanzia, causa un attacco cardiaco che se lo è portato via), mentre la seconda è dedicata alla madre (con cui c'è stata una più lunga frequentazione, e quindi l'epica stempera nel quotidiano).
L'affannarsi a dichiarare di aver avuto "un'infanzia felicissima" narrando nel contempo un vissuto da "bambino in più" (il titolo, Tra loro, è significativo. Non "con", ma un "tra" a metà fra il divisivo e il collante) fa trasparire che forse così non è stato. Quel respiro sospeso, quel trattenere il fiato e accettare (= narrare) gli accadimenti diventano la cifra stilistica della sua narrazione. Uno sguardo quieto, ricchissimo di dettagli per celare un tumulto di emozioni che non è concesso esprimere altrimenti
Ineludibile per comprendere il suo universo poetico.
Composto da due parti, nella prima prevale il ricordo del padre (con tratti più epici, forse perché il ricordo si arresta all'infanzia, causa un attacco cardiaco che se lo è portato via), mentre la seconda è dedicata alla madre (con cui c'è stata una più lunga frequentazione, e quindi l'epica stempera nel quotidiano).
L'affannarsi a dichiarare di aver avuto "un'infanzia felicissima" narrando nel contempo un vissuto da "bambino in più" (il titolo, Tra loro, è significativo. Non "con", ma un "tra" a metà fra il divisivo e il collante) fa trasparire che forse così non è stato. Quel respiro sospeso, quel trattenere il fiato e accettare (= narrare) gli accadimenti diventano la cifra stilistica della sua narrazione. Uno sguardo quieto, ricchissimo di dettagli per celare un tumulto di emozioni che non è concesso esprimere altrimenti
December 11, 2017
ça mérite même pas deux étoiles , livre plat
May 19, 2017
I don't usually read memoirs. Perhaps I have an unreasoning prejudice against them born of some reading experience in my distant past, but, generally, I just don't enjoy them. But I will always make an exception for Richard Ford.
Ford has written this short (less than 200 pages) memoir of his parents and of his experience growing up with them. It essentially consists of two long essays written some thirty years apart in time.
Both were written after his parents' deaths. The one about his mother was written first, although she was the second one to die. The second one about his father was written many years after his father died in 1960. Ford was only sixteen years old at the time.
In the book itself, the essays appear in the order of the deaths, so the one about the father is first, followed by the one about the mother.
We learn that Richard was an only child and his arrival was a bit of a surprise for his parents. They had been married for fifteen years when he was born. Apparently, those fifteen years had been happy ones that his parents spent mostly on the road. His father was a traveling salesman for the Faultless Starch Company and his mother went with him as he made his rounds to a number of southern states in his territory.
Both his parents were from Arkansas and that remained their home base in their years of travel, but with the expectation of a baby arriving on the scene, they decided to make a move. His father's employer encouraged him to move to a more central location within his territory so that he would be able to spend more time at home. Thus it was that they decided to move to Jackson, Mississippi, a town where they knew virtually no one. It was there that their son was born and where he spent the formative years of his life.
I've always felt a connection with Ford because of where he was born and grew up, for I was growing up in that area during much the same period, the '50s and '60s. Our family situations were quite different. My family were farmers and factory workers. His father was the aforementioned traveling salesman and his mother, after Richard's birth, was a stay-at-home mom. But we were both only children and we both grew up as observers, witnessing first our own families and then the larger society. And we both got out when we could.
This memoir seems to be Ford's attempt to give his witness of the lives of two ordinary, unremarkable people and perhaps to fix in his own mind his memories of them. Maybe it is his acknowledgement, too, that he wouldn't be the man he is, seventy-two years on, had it not been for them and his experiences as their son. Of course, the truth is he wouldn't be, period, had it not been for them.
A child never really experiences what life is like for his/her parents. How indeed can we ever truly understand the inner lives of even the people closest to us? The borders of their minds are closed to us. But Richard Ford, the observer, has put together his memories of actual events with his imagination and supposition of what his parents' lives must have been like, how they responded to events, what they felt. In doing so, he has given us an affectionate, insightful, and altogether tender portrait of two white people born in the South in the early part of the 20th century; two ordinary people who never made headlines or were noticed by the world outside their own circle of friends and family. And yet they managed to produce one extraordinary writer.
Ford has written this short (less than 200 pages) memoir of his parents and of his experience growing up with them. It essentially consists of two long essays written some thirty years apart in time.
Both were written after his parents' deaths. The one about his mother was written first, although she was the second one to die. The second one about his father was written many years after his father died in 1960. Ford was only sixteen years old at the time.
In the book itself, the essays appear in the order of the deaths, so the one about the father is first, followed by the one about the mother.
We learn that Richard was an only child and his arrival was a bit of a surprise for his parents. They had been married for fifteen years when he was born. Apparently, those fifteen years had been happy ones that his parents spent mostly on the road. His father was a traveling salesman for the Faultless Starch Company and his mother went with him as he made his rounds to a number of southern states in his territory.
Both his parents were from Arkansas and that remained their home base in their years of travel, but with the expectation of a baby arriving on the scene, they decided to make a move. His father's employer encouraged him to move to a more central location within his territory so that he would be able to spend more time at home. Thus it was that they decided to move to Jackson, Mississippi, a town where they knew virtually no one. It was there that their son was born and where he spent the formative years of his life.
I've always felt a connection with Ford because of where he was born and grew up, for I was growing up in that area during much the same period, the '50s and '60s. Our family situations were quite different. My family were farmers and factory workers. His father was the aforementioned traveling salesman and his mother, after Richard's birth, was a stay-at-home mom. But we were both only children and we both grew up as observers, witnessing first our own families and then the larger society. And we both got out when we could.
This memoir seems to be Ford's attempt to give his witness of the lives of two ordinary, unremarkable people and perhaps to fix in his own mind his memories of them. Maybe it is his acknowledgement, too, that he wouldn't be the man he is, seventy-two years on, had it not been for them and his experiences as their son. Of course, the truth is he wouldn't be, period, had it not been for them.
A child never really experiences what life is like for his/her parents. How indeed can we ever truly understand the inner lives of even the people closest to us? The borders of their minds are closed to us. But Richard Ford, the observer, has put together his memories of actual events with his imagination and supposition of what his parents' lives must have been like, how they responded to events, what they felt. In doing so, he has given us an affectionate, insightful, and altogether tender portrait of two white people born in the South in the early part of the 20th century; two ordinary people who never made headlines or were noticed by the world outside their own circle of friends and family. And yet they managed to produce one extraordinary writer.
May 18, 2019
Dos vidas
Cuando iba por la mitad del libro pregunté en twitter si era posible escribir algo sobre los padres que no fuese emotivo. Cuando lo terminé, twiteé que había llorado. Es la tercera vez que me pasa. Las dos anteriores habían sido con Carrere.
No soy de subrayar libros, las veces que lo hice cuando volví a leer mis subrayados no entendía bien por qué me había pegado tanto aquella frase. Es fundamental la ola previa que te va llevando a eso, si no son meros aforismos. Bueno, después de mucho tiempo en este libro marqué un par de frases porque sentí que el impulso era irrefrenable.
Este libro chiquito que se lee de un par de sentadas cuenta sencillamente dos vidas sencillas, la de los padres del autor. Padres como cualquiera, como los tuyos y los míos. Esas vidas a las que no les queda otra que la épica de la cotidianeidad. Por momentos es muy conmovedor.
Es lo primero que leo de Richard Ford, me lo habían recomendado muchísimo. Ahora veo por qué. Tengo en casa "Canadá" y voy a ver si consigo "El periodista deportivo".
Cuando iba por la mitad del libro pregunté en twitter si era posible escribir algo sobre los padres que no fuese emotivo. Cuando lo terminé, twiteé que había llorado. Es la tercera vez que me pasa. Las dos anteriores habían sido con Carrere.
No soy de subrayar libros, las veces que lo hice cuando volví a leer mis subrayados no entendía bien por qué me había pegado tanto aquella frase. Es fundamental la ola previa que te va llevando a eso, si no son meros aforismos. Bueno, después de mucho tiempo en este libro marqué un par de frases porque sentí que el impulso era irrefrenable.
Este libro chiquito que se lee de un par de sentadas cuenta sencillamente dos vidas sencillas, la de los padres del autor. Padres como cualquiera, como los tuyos y los míos. Esas vidas a las que no les queda otra que la épica de la cotidianeidad. Por momentos es muy conmovedor.
Es lo primero que leo de Richard Ford, me lo habían recomendado muchísimo. Ahora veo por qué. Tengo en casa "Canadá" y voy a ver si consigo "El periodista deportivo".
May 8, 2017
From BBC Radio 4 - Book of the week:
Pulitzer Prize winning author Richard Ford tells us the stories of his parents, taken from a newly published memoir.
After his parents married they took to the road. Father worked at the Faultless Company, which took them to "Arkansas, Louisiana, Alabama, and a small part of Tennessee, a slice of Florida, a corner of Texas, all of Mississippi." On the road they stayed at motels and ate in diners. They had fun. They 'roistered'.
Abridged by Katrin Williams
Producer Duncan Minshull.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08pdxkz
Pulitzer Prize winning author Richard Ford tells us the stories of his parents, taken from a newly published memoir.
After his parents married they took to the road. Father worked at the Faultless Company, which took them to "Arkansas, Louisiana, Alabama, and a small part of Tennessee, a slice of Florida, a corner of Texas, all of Mississippi." On the road they stayed at motels and ate in diners. They had fun. They 'roistered'.
Abridged by Katrin Williams
Producer Duncan Minshull.
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b08pdxkz
April 30, 2017
I simply adore Richard Ford!
There's a reason why he is one of the greatest contemporary American writers. His skills to portray the everyday life is remarkable and there is so much truth in his words.
Now he gives us the story of his parents - separately, together, with him, the child between them - and he writes with such tenderness and sincere reflection.
Imagine him telling you this story face to face, cause that's how it feels.
An excellent and joyful read.
There's a reason why he is one of the greatest contemporary American writers. His skills to portray the everyday life is remarkable and there is so much truth in his words.
Now he gives us the story of his parents - separately, together, with him, the child between them - and he writes with such tenderness and sincere reflection.
Imagine him telling you this story face to face, cause that's how it feels.
An excellent and joyful read.
September 11, 2024
"Nu mi-l amintesc nefericit" (&tatãl lui) - pãi acesta e un privilegiu ṣi e destul pentru a suporta valul de amintiri care vine brusc, neanunțat cãtre fiecare dintre noi.
May 29, 2017
Between Them, this book's title, is meant, in part, to suggest that by being born I literally came between my parents, a virtual place where I was sheltered and adored as long as they were alive. But it is also meant, in part, to portray their ineradicable singleness – both in marriage, and in their lives as my parents.
Between Them is Pulitzer Prize-winning author Richard Ford's biography of his parents, presented in two parts: A section focusing on his mother, written thirty years ago when she passed away; and a second section (which comes first in the book) about his father, written recently. Ford allows that there are likely to be inconsistencies between the two accounts – because the point was to rely solely on memory – and he permits himself to repeat certain events. And always and everywhere he stresses that, as is true for all of us, it is impossible for a child to ever truly know his parents; to know what is in their minds, to understand their relationship, or to see them as outsiders do. Certainly well-written and basically interesting, the fact that Ford knows so few details about his parents' lives, and refuses to speculate or extrapolate to fill them in, actually makes for thin gruel – I liked what is here but don't know that I see the point.
That which was most intimate, most important, most satisfying and necessary to each of my parents transpired almost exclusively between them. This is not an unhappy fact for a son to face. In most ways it's heartening, since knowing that this is so preserves for me a hopeful mystery about life – the mystery which promises that even with careful notice, much happens that we do not understand.
Like I said, the base details are interesting: Parker Ford was born in rural Arkansas; the youngest child and only son of a dour single mother (his father committed suicide), Parker had little education and modest ambition – landing a job as a travelling salesman (selling starch) for the Faultless Company suited him fine. Edna Akin, also from the Arkansas sticks, was only fourteen years younger than her mother and seven years younger than her step-father – and as she got in the way of their fun, Edna was sent away to boarding school, and when she was old enough, brought back home and set to work. Edna met Parker when she was seventeen and he was twenty-four, they soon married, and went on the road together: enjoying hotels and restaurants, and presumably, each other's company for fifteen years. Richard Ford came along relatively late in life for his parents, but if they resented him as a drag on their good times, they never let on: he felt loved and wanted and every move the family made – from apartment to duplex to the suburbs – seemed for his benefit. The need to lay down roots meant that Parker continued his sales route, alone, from Monday to Friday while his family stayed at home, and although that meant that Richard lived an atypical bifurcated life – loose and carefree on weekdays, more quiet and scheduled when his father was home – he regarded this as his normal; didn't think he could have been closer to either of his parents. Parker died suddenly, at home, when Richard was sixteen, and while that was, of course, devastating, Richard was soon gone away to college and family life became something for phone calls and visits. In the second half of the book, Ford describes his mother's eventual death as well.
The more we see our parents fully, after all, see them as the world does, the better our chances to see the world as it is.
I did find this book interesting for two reasons: 1) My mother-in-law, who is just barely older than Richard Ford, had a father who was a travelling salesman; someone who was away from Monday to Friday; a father who died of a heart attack in a hotel room when she was just twenty – I enjoyed imagining that this is what her childhood had been like, too. And 2) I clearly remember trying to psychoanalyse my own parents when I was a kid – my dad was probably ill-tempered because his father had been abusive; my mum was probably an indifferent mother because she had married too young and felt short-changed by life – and it wasn't until I was grown up (and no longer needed to protect myself by making excuses for them) that I realised it wasn't my job to parse motives: all I know for sure is the way that they acted; I have zero information about their interior lives. Because of this, I appreciate that Ford didn't try to invent interior lives for his parents (even if it feels a bit maddening that he wrote a biography of people who had always been reluctant to talk about themselves), but perhaps this book would have felt weightier if he had added more of himself into it. As an only child who has lived to a greater age than either of his parents did, I understand Ford's desire to write this book and preserve what was known of Parker and Edna, I just don't know who the ideal reader would be.
August 6, 2023
If you aren't a fan of the author, this is probably a 3-star read. But if you adore Ford's writing, as I do, it is an easy 5-stars. Outside of essays, this is the first nonfiction he's written, and in reading it you gain insight into the author's background, upbringing, and personality. With many authors, when you read their novels you begin to think you know them, but you can never really be sure how much of their fiction is based on their own outlook and who they are versus it being fiction. Books like this allow you to see the author for who he/she really is. In the process, you also read a lovely memoir of both of his parents.
April 23, 2022
Lindo texto que ahonda en las respectivas biografías de los padres de Ford, y entre ellos descubrir el lugar que ocupara el propio autor en ese vínculo. Ford se remonta a las historias familiares de modo de captar mejor las complejidades de ambas vidas, y lo hace con la sutileza a la que nos tiene acostumbrados en los textos ficcionales.
June 21, 2017
My parents lived at about the same time period as Richard Ford's parents. Like them, they didn't talk about themselves, either. That was the way it was then for people who lived ordinary lives. They loved each other, worked hard, took care of their children, and didn't expect notice, except from each other. So much in this memoir resonates for me.
I am not familiar with Ford's other work. But I have the greatest respect for this one. Such a beautiful restraint in the writing. There are images and incidents remembered, but as he says, for a child, and maybe for most of us throughout life, ordinary days are taken for granted, even though the most meaningful things are constructed within us on the ordinary days. Ford has difficulty articulating what these meanings are, except to say the true thing__that our parents are for us, a comforting presence. They are there deep within, difficult to articulate, like the foundations on which we stand.
Like Ford's father, mine too had a heart condition, but continued living his routine until one night he suddenly died at home. Traumatic, as it was for Ford and his mother, and that experience stands out starkly in the psyche ever after.
"Because I was his son, I can recognize now that life is short and has inadequacies. . . Most
everything but love goes away."
His mother lived a full life, but she never recovered fully from the loss of her much loved husband.
Both she and Ford lived their lives knowing that this is just the way that life is: things happen and you say yes to them. Yes, this is what it is.
Lives and deaths often go unnoticed. "Our parents' lives, even those enfolded in obscurity, offer us our first, strong assurance that human events have consequences: here we are after all. "In difficult moments, long after their deaths, I often experience the purest longing for them---for their ACTUALITY. . .the actuality which is where my understanding of importance begins."
He was their son but he also recognizes that what was most intimate, most satisfying, to each of them transpired BETWEEN THEM, which promises that even with careful notice, much happens that we do not understand.
I found Ford's honesty and forthrightness refreshing. He makes nothing up to fill the gaps in his memory, no heroics, no claims of greatness, no embellishments, no lessons, but true recognition. His task as a memoirist was "to compose a shape and an economy that gives faithful, reliable, if sometimes drastic coherence to the many unequal things any life contains." His insistence on SEEING what is actually there reminded me of Hirshfield's conviction about great poetry--to look at all of life, and find our meaning in all of it.
I am not familiar with Ford's other work. But I have the greatest respect for this one. Such a beautiful restraint in the writing. There are images and incidents remembered, but as he says, for a child, and maybe for most of us throughout life, ordinary days are taken for granted, even though the most meaningful things are constructed within us on the ordinary days. Ford has difficulty articulating what these meanings are, except to say the true thing__that our parents are for us, a comforting presence. They are there deep within, difficult to articulate, like the foundations on which we stand.
Like Ford's father, mine too had a heart condition, but continued living his routine until one night he suddenly died at home. Traumatic, as it was for Ford and his mother, and that experience stands out starkly in the psyche ever after.
"Because I was his son, I can recognize now that life is short and has inadequacies. . . Most
everything but love goes away."
His mother lived a full life, but she never recovered fully from the loss of her much loved husband.
Both she and Ford lived their lives knowing that this is just the way that life is: things happen and you say yes to them. Yes, this is what it is.
Lives and deaths often go unnoticed. "Our parents' lives, even those enfolded in obscurity, offer us our first, strong assurance that human events have consequences: here we are after all. "In difficult moments, long after their deaths, I often experience the purest longing for them---for their ACTUALITY. . .the actuality which is where my understanding of importance begins."
He was their son but he also recognizes that what was most intimate, most satisfying, to each of them transpired BETWEEN THEM, which promises that even with careful notice, much happens that we do not understand.
I found Ford's honesty and forthrightness refreshing. He makes nothing up to fill the gaps in his memory, no heroics, no claims of greatness, no embellishments, no lessons, but true recognition. His task as a memoirist was "to compose a shape and an economy that gives faithful, reliable, if sometimes drastic coherence to the many unequal things any life contains." His insistence on SEEING what is actually there reminded me of Hirshfield's conviction about great poetry--to look at all of life, and find our meaning in all of it.
May 23, 2017
It's slight and reads more like two essays than a memoir. That said, it's a compelling read. Ford finds the humanity in both his parents and portrays them with texture and nuance. The tone of slight detachment lends this greater force than a more emotive account would. Another masterful volume from one of the masters of American literature.
November 21, 2019
" ..Și, desigur, și aici e o lecție, una după care am încercat de-a lungul timpului, de obicei fără succes, să mă ghidez: lecția care spune că ce s-a întâmplat e ceea ce contează mai mult decât ce cred alții sau chiar tu însuți despre ce s-a întâmplat, înainte sau după. În mare, contează doar ce facem."
April 27, 2018
Richard Ford's novels are among my favourites, so it was no surprise that the quality of the writing in this memoir of his parents is so high.
The book is split in two - with the first half dealing with Ford's father, the second with his mother.
The stories inevitably overlap, but both set out to illuminate the lives of parents who do not have anything more remarkable about them than most people's father and mother - but then that's the point.
The opening section on Ford's father Parker was written recently, the second about mum Edna, around 30 years ago, five years after her death.
They both though deal with how much we can ever understand our parents. For good or ill, they are likely to be the guiding influence on our lives, but can we ever really know them?
Ford is an only child, so this is entirely his perspective, with no influence from siblings. And of course he is an important character in the narrative.
Parker's death was the potentially more traumatic for Ford. He died when the author was just 16, but then of course the death of the final parent for an only child is also the final loss of that link to the childhood home.
There's no milking of any trauma though. This is a sober, subtle and reflective memoir. There's warmth and love, but also an attempt from an adult perspective to try and understand the relationship of the couple with each other and with the author.
But in the end there are gaps. The parents have gone; there is no chance of asking them to fill in the blanks. And that for most of us is the story of our relationship with our mothers and fathers.
That's what made Between Them so moving and resonant with me, and what left it lingering in my mind long after finishing the final words.
The book is split in two - with the first half dealing with Ford's father, the second with his mother.
The stories inevitably overlap, but both set out to illuminate the lives of parents who do not have anything more remarkable about them than most people's father and mother - but then that's the point.
The opening section on Ford's father Parker was written recently, the second about mum Edna, around 30 years ago, five years after her death.
They both though deal with how much we can ever understand our parents. For good or ill, they are likely to be the guiding influence on our lives, but can we ever really know them?
Ford is an only child, so this is entirely his perspective, with no influence from siblings. And of course he is an important character in the narrative.
Parker's death was the potentially more traumatic for Ford. He died when the author was just 16, but then of course the death of the final parent for an only child is also the final loss of that link to the childhood home.
There's no milking of any trauma though. This is a sober, subtle and reflective memoir. There's warmth and love, but also an attempt from an adult perspective to try and understand the relationship of the couple with each other and with the author.
But in the end there are gaps. The parents have gone; there is no chance of asking them to fill in the blanks. And that for most of us is the story of our relationship with our mothers and fathers.
That's what made Between Them so moving and resonant with me, and what left it lingering in my mind long after finishing the final words.
July 11, 2017
I'm not sure how I found this book. I just know that one day I was looking at books that won Gordon Burns Prize. I discovered it was available through my library's Overdrive site, so I checked it out.
It is actually two memoirs written decades apart. One about the author's father who died when he was a teenager, and the other his mother who died years later. His parents were old school Americans. From a time, when you could manage to survive by your wits.
The author talks about how he knew his parents loved one another. That he knew they were happy together. But it is also a tale of heartbreak. How his mother had to learn how to be a single parent, about his isolation from his father (he was a travelling salesman), and his connection with his mother. His mother also had an extremely strong independent streak.
This is also one of those books that reflects back on the reader. You find yourself thinking about your own mother and father and what would happen if you wrote a memoir. I find myself looking back and thinking about my image of my parents when I was 18 and my image now. Very glad I read this.
It is actually two memoirs written decades apart. One about the author's father who died when he was a teenager, and the other his mother who died years later. His parents were old school Americans. From a time, when you could manage to survive by your wits.
The author talks about how he knew his parents loved one another. That he knew they were happy together. But it is also a tale of heartbreak. How his mother had to learn how to be a single parent, about his isolation from his father (he was a travelling salesman), and his connection with his mother. His mother also had an extremely strong independent streak.
This is also one of those books that reflects back on the reader. You find yourself thinking about your own mother and father and what would happen if you wrote a memoir. I find myself looking back and thinking about my image of my parents when I was 18 and my image now. Very glad I read this.
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