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Feverish
Swaziland is where you think, for the first time, maybe if I got brain fever I would be able to stop worrying. I’d lose control and, maybe then, I’d understand my friend’s mind. In an attempt to break free from rationality and make her life a work of art, Gigi Fenster decides to induce a fever in herself. Fever, she surmises, is a ‘particularly writerly thing’. What follows is a captivating memoir of that attempt.
Feverish ranges over Fenster’s childhood in South Africa, her relationship with her psychiatrist father, her troubled friend Simon, and her mother and four siblings, through to New Zealand and her relationships with her two teenage daughters. As she traverses her life, Fenster asks questions about bravery, transgression, vulnerability, and the value we place on art. This memoir is a witty, intelligent, original examination of what it means to be a compassionate human being. “Without empathy,” she writes, “one cannot tell the full story. There can be no proper care.”
Feverish ranges over Fenster’s childhood in South Africa, her relationship with her psychiatrist father, her troubled friend Simon, and her mother and four siblings, through to New Zealand and her relationships with her two teenage daughters. As she traverses her life, Fenster asks questions about bravery, transgression, vulnerability, and the value we place on art. This memoir is a witty, intelligent, original examination of what it means to be a compassionate human being. “Without empathy,” she writes, “one cannot tell the full story. There can be no proper care.”
272 pages, Paperback
Published October 1, 2018
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
September 12, 2020
The sister (who is an author) of a very good friend of mine (who is also an author), wrote this memoir.
Feverish, by Gigi Fenster.
So it's familiar on so many levels. What a rare opportunity to read about the life and history of a family you know and love.
Since I mostly read fiction, the closest I usually get to a book is maybe knowing the author, or living in the city the book is set in. But this is reading closely at a whole different level.
So I read it while I was supposed to be working, and I read it standing up, waiting for the kettle to boil, I read it inside, and I read it outside. I read the hell out of this book.
Gigi is a really talented writer, she does this beautiful thing with repetition. She does this beautiful thing with repetition that I don't know if anyone else could pull off. See, right there, that was me not pulling it off.
She also does this remarkable thing where she talks about this sister, and that daughter, and the other husband, and so there's no name and shaming, but if you know the family, you can spend a wonderfully long time pondering and speculating over who's who.
The premise of the memoir, is that in the midst of an already hectic family life, with two smart teenage daughters (who I fell completely in love with), she decides to induce a fever to access different levels of creativity and imagination.
And so she sets out researching fevers, through history and judaism and psychiatry and the history of psychiatry (her father and grandfather were both in the industry) and medicine and art, and through writing and literature (Wuthering Heights plays a big role, so if you're a fan, you'll love that deep dive), and through childhood illness and her own childhood and family and relationships, and so much more. This book is just about so much more. (There, see, I failed at it again. Mad skills, this author!)
Feverish, by Gigi Fenster.
So it's familiar on so many levels. What a rare opportunity to read about the life and history of a family you know and love.
Since I mostly read fiction, the closest I usually get to a book is maybe knowing the author, or living in the city the book is set in. But this is reading closely at a whole different level.
So I read it while I was supposed to be working, and I read it standing up, waiting for the kettle to boil, I read it inside, and I read it outside. I read the hell out of this book.
Gigi is a really talented writer, she does this beautiful thing with repetition. She does this beautiful thing with repetition that I don't know if anyone else could pull off. See, right there, that was me not pulling it off.
She also does this remarkable thing where she talks about this sister, and that daughter, and the other husband, and so there's no name and shaming, but if you know the family, you can spend a wonderfully long time pondering and speculating over who's who.
The premise of the memoir, is that in the midst of an already hectic family life, with two smart teenage daughters (who I fell completely in love with), she decides to induce a fever to access different levels of creativity and imagination.
And so she sets out researching fevers, through history and judaism and psychiatry and the history of psychiatry (her father and grandfather were both in the industry) and medicine and art, and through writing and literature (Wuthering Heights plays a big role, so if you're a fan, you'll love that deep dive), and through childhood illness and her own childhood and family and relationships, and so much more. This book is just about so much more. (There, see, I failed at it again. Mad skills, this author!)
May 6, 2020
I wasn't completely convinced by the 'fever' device as the organising principle of this quirky memoir, but at the end it didn't matter; I still really enjoyed reading this book. I loved the freshness and continuous surprise of its structure: I never knew where the next chapter, and even page, will go and I loved this not-knowing. I also love the writer's voice very much - her self-deprecating humour and how well, and subtly, she characterised the people in her life.
October 19, 2018
Very pleasantly odd, clever, witty, eccentric and empathetic.
November 17, 2018
“I like living in suburbia with my husband and my two children. I like being middle-aged and I like being middle class. But still, subversion felt like a box worth ticking. If only as a nod to some earlier or imagined version of myself. If only for a short while.”
So reflects our author as she considers inducing a fever in order to unleash the creative beast within. What a strange and delightful little creature this book is. I had never heard of this book or the author before and stumbled upon this by sheer chance. In a way this is a book about absolutely nothing, and yet that doesn’t stop it from being a real pleasure to read. I could see why it could annoy some people, but I really warmed to the author and her quirky style of writing.
When an encouraging friend asks her how her memoir is coming along, she replies, “Well, you know. It’s boring. Nothing’s really happened in my life. Nothing that would warrant a book.” Yet this is one of those books that prove to be bigger than the sum of its parts. I have to say there were some really funny moments throughout this memoir, there is one apparently true story she relates in here about her time taking a holiday back in South Africa involving baboons and her car and it is one of the funniest stories I have read in a long time.
With her dad being a psychiatrist she uses this device often as a jumping off point into some really interesting territory. At one point she goes back into the roots of the modern psychiatry movement with some really engrossing results. We see how due to urbanisation mentally ill people were no longer hidden away out in little villages, and how this made the issues a lot more visible, and so doctors practising in the 19th and early 20th century would have seen a sharp rise in mental illness. Neurosyphilis or as it was then known as GPI (General Paresis of the Insane) was becoming an increasing problem. “In 1900 it was estimated that 5-20% of Europe and the United States had, or would have, syphilis. By 1914 there were more than 100’000 new cases and three million cases of syphilis in Great Britain alone.”
Elsewhere we learn about the controversial Austrian physician, Julius Wagner-Jauregg’s clinic and the use of the terrifying Faradisation which “Causing them such excruciating pain that many died during treatment, but most of them escaped the torture by taking flight from the hospital.” He would also deliberately infect patients who were suffering from GPI with malaria to try and cure them.
With Fenster being from South Africa, we get introduced to some wonderful new words like, Malpitte (an hallucinogenic drug from the nightshade family), skyfing (smoking weed) and Shuganamakoo (a blend of Yiddish, Afrikaans and Sotho meaning mad). So overall this was a really enjoyable read that was like a lovely mix of Lorrie Moore, Ali Smith, with a tinge of “Running With Scissors” and listening to your eccentric auntie telling some of her bizarrely dark and funny stories.
So reflects our author as she considers inducing a fever in order to unleash the creative beast within. What a strange and delightful little creature this book is. I had never heard of this book or the author before and stumbled upon this by sheer chance. In a way this is a book about absolutely nothing, and yet that doesn’t stop it from being a real pleasure to read. I could see why it could annoy some people, but I really warmed to the author and her quirky style of writing.
When an encouraging friend asks her how her memoir is coming along, she replies, “Well, you know. It’s boring. Nothing’s really happened in my life. Nothing that would warrant a book.” Yet this is one of those books that prove to be bigger than the sum of its parts. I have to say there were some really funny moments throughout this memoir, there is one apparently true story she relates in here about her time taking a holiday back in South Africa involving baboons and her car and it is one of the funniest stories I have read in a long time.
With her dad being a psychiatrist she uses this device often as a jumping off point into some really interesting territory. At one point she goes back into the roots of the modern psychiatry movement with some really engrossing results. We see how due to urbanisation mentally ill people were no longer hidden away out in little villages, and how this made the issues a lot more visible, and so doctors practising in the 19th and early 20th century would have seen a sharp rise in mental illness. Neurosyphilis or as it was then known as GPI (General Paresis of the Insane) was becoming an increasing problem. “In 1900 it was estimated that 5-20% of Europe and the United States had, or would have, syphilis. By 1914 there were more than 100’000 new cases and three million cases of syphilis in Great Britain alone.”
Elsewhere we learn about the controversial Austrian physician, Julius Wagner-Jauregg’s clinic and the use of the terrifying Faradisation which “Causing them such excruciating pain that many died during treatment, but most of them escaped the torture by taking flight from the hospital.” He would also deliberately infect patients who were suffering from GPI with malaria to try and cure them.
With Fenster being from South Africa, we get introduced to some wonderful new words like, Malpitte (an hallucinogenic drug from the nightshade family), skyfing (smoking weed) and Shuganamakoo (a blend of Yiddish, Afrikaans and Sotho meaning mad). So overall this was a really enjoyable read that was like a lovely mix of Lorrie Moore, Ali Smith, with a tinge of “Running With Scissors” and listening to your eccentric auntie telling some of her bizarrely dark and funny stories.
September 23, 2018
Overall this didn’t do it for me. I heard Gigi read an extract from the book at a Writers on Mondays session at Te Papa. She read about the difficulty of being an adolescent with a close friend who was developing schizophrenia. This was perceptive, moving, and well-written.
Unfortunately, it was not representative of the rest of the book which seemed to me to be somewhat rambling and a bit pointless.
The exploration of fever was interesting, but as Gigi doesn’t follow up on the project of inducing a fever in herself, there is no real purpose to the exploration (except perhaps to complete her Master’s degree requirements).
In the end, I felt I hadn’t really learned much about Gigi either through her random life snippets and memories or through her research into fever. Her reflections didn’t make me think differently about anything. I did feel a bit sorry for her ‘Velcro friend’ about whose life we learn rather a lot in a way that seems a bit voyeuristic.
Unfortunately, it was not representative of the rest of the book which seemed to me to be somewhat rambling and a bit pointless.
The exploration of fever was interesting, but as Gigi doesn’t follow up on the project of inducing a fever in herself, there is no real purpose to the exploration (except perhaps to complete her Master’s degree requirements).
In the end, I felt I hadn’t really learned much about Gigi either through her random life snippets and memories or through her research into fever. Her reflections didn’t make me think differently about anything. I did feel a bit sorry for her ‘Velcro friend’ about whose life we learn rather a lot in a way that seems a bit voyeuristic.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 16, 2018
Broad, scattered, pointless?
October 20, 2022
I can't stop thinking about this book. Fenster has an enviable ability to weave a compelling narrative in three sentences about friends having coffee. Asking for extra towels at a vacation cabin. Talking to her father about Wuthering Heights. (And by the way, Gigi. If you're reading this, you're right. Not that you need me to tell you that.) There are also so many call-backs and nods that create a familiarity so that rather quickly, you're no longer just the reader.
I also really enjoy the jump in time periods and how it doesn't betray or confuse the chronology of the present-day memoir because it's about mental travel and research and logic and what she's thinking about any given day along the way. That's a difficult thing to do and Fenster nails it.
I bought this book from a "Staff Picks" shelf in Auckland several years ago and am ashamed it took this long to jump in and finish, but maybe part of me wanted to keep it around for when I needed to examine my own creativity and my why. Seems appropriate once you read it.
And this is no spoiler, but what an ending.
Now, off to be a better writer with this as inspiration.
I also really enjoy the jump in time periods and how it doesn't betray or confuse the chronology of the present-day memoir because it's about mental travel and research and logic and what she's thinking about any given day along the way. That's a difficult thing to do and Fenster nails it.
I bought this book from a "Staff Picks" shelf in Auckland several years ago and am ashamed it took this long to jump in and finish, but maybe part of me wanted to keep it around for when I needed to examine my own creativity and my why. Seems appropriate once you read it.
And this is no spoiler, but what an ending.
Now, off to be a better writer with this as inspiration.
January 27, 2019
Funny, wry, intelligent, thoughtful meditation on illness, creativity, psychiatry, family etc. Fenster has a fantastic distinctive voice and deserves a bigger audience.
November 5, 2022
As other reviewers have commented, I also felt that this memoir was pointless and rambling. I did decide to finish reading it because I enjoyed coming across Gigi's storytelling about her family and of topics such as the treatment of syphilis which were fascinating to read.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews