The Other Benjamin

I really like this picture of my grandparents that my cousin posted. My grandmother is 84 today but one of the things I love to do when I'm at her house is to look at their photo albums. The whole family wore such great clothes in the years past. My favorites are pictures from the fifties to the seventies because they were such colorful photos. My father and his siblings wore loud prints that clashed, bell-bottoms and those nifty aviator Raybans. It was a happy time. I loved those pictures. 

I never got to meet my grandfather. He died when my dad was in his early twenties. I've heard a lot of great stories about him, people say he's a lot like my dad in that they look alike and they had the same gentle demeanor. I hear my Grandpa was, like my dad, also quite a fan of skincare products and smart dressing. He must have been a remarkable man. I can tell my father loved him dearly with the way he's always telling stories about him or what life was like when his dad was still around. I know he idolized him a lot. Once, on a book run (I used to make my Papa buy books I read for fun on any given weekend), my father was very pleased to find out I had Sinatra songs on my shuffle. He told me these songs were his dad's songs, and then he kept singing along until we got home. That was a very nice moment between Ben, Benjie, and I.  

It will be December in a few hours. I lost my dad on a Thursday in December, two years ago. It was five days before my birthday and our conversations that day were simple but great, from what gift would I like to have (I said a Blackberry, he said, "Okay."), my plans after graduation (I only had a term left, he was so excited because he wanted me to go law school or take master's), and if I'd like to invite family over on my birthday (my uncle told me later on that he was in fact looking for crabs to cook on my birthday, they're my favorite so I know finding mud crabs in December is very hard). I still don't know what went wrong that day but I now know how to turn the switch off when I begin thinking about it. 

You don't really forget the pain, you just learn how to live through it. Later on, I will find out that this valuable lesson is applicable to everything in life. You live through things. Nothing is ever that big of a deal because you can and will carry on. I never really imagined that he would never see me grow older or be the person he always wanted me to be, which is why I like this picture of my Grandpa. 

I'd like to think this is how my Papa would've looked like had he grown older, same bushy eyebrows and that very friendly face. He is, after all, my grandfather's junior. Hello, Benjamins. I hope you're both enjoying heaven. 

The Juice is Worth the Squeeze

“Keep your dreams alive. Understand to achieve anything requires faith and belief in yourself, vision, hard work, determination, and dedication. Remember all things are possible for those who believe.”

The Impostor's Daughter

This is my cousin's book and it's awesome so I thought I could write about it a bit to take my mind off the book I am currently reading (An expat's memoir about France, one that is so honestly written that it's just full of raw beauty. I am filled with so much wanderlust and I am not even halfway through! I guess it also helps that for every French man a heroine meets, I instantly imagine Yoann Gourcuff). 

First, a summary: Laurie Sandell grew up in awe (and sometimes in terror) of her larger-than-life father, who told jaw-dropping tales of a privileged childhood in Buenos Aires, academic triumphs, heroism during Vietnam, friendships with Kissinger and the Pope. As a young woman, Laurie unconsciously mirrors her dad, trying on several outsized personalities (Tokyo stripper, lesbian seductress, Ambien addict). Later, she lucks into the perfect job–interviewing celebrities for a top women’s magazine. Growing up with her extraordinary father has given Laurie a knack for relating to the stars. But while researching an article on her dad’s life, she makes an astonishing discovery: he’s not the man he says he is–not even close. Now, Laurie begins to puzzle together three decades of lies and the splintered person that resulted from them–herself.

This will be short. You see, it's kind of hard to talk about graphic novels at length without getting into the illustration or giving away the story itself. Now that I already gave you the summary, I can also go ahead and say that this gem of a book has wonderful coloring (which is the only thing I could say about the technical aspect of the illustration, as I am not an expert). Truth be told, I've seen better drawings from, say, Craig Thompson, Adrian Tomine or even Lucy Knisley, but this book aces coloring (I realize it's completely wrong to compare illustrators because they differ in technique but I am a Philistine in illustration. I am not useful in articulating drawing differences or peculiarities at length). A story this complicated and somewhat dark can easily be translated into even darker drawings but this book did not. The illustrations remained warm and lively, and I really liked that. It didn't give the story any added weight, and it gave me (as a reader) something nice to look at, no matter how depressing Laurie's story got. There was balance and it was really essential in holding my attention, especially when everything got messy (and just atrocious). It is especially disconcerting for me because like Laurie, I loved my father a lot. It made me realize that even our greatest heroes are people too. And as most people, they are susceptible to shortcomings and human frailty. I admit I have the tendency to put the people I love in pedestals. This book made me realize that it shouldn't be that way all the time and if I insist, I'd have to always look away. I don't want that. In my book, blind deference is almost as ugly as the bitter truth.

In the end, (and I'll try not to spoil you as much as I can) Laurie was able to overcome the truth that she has unraveled by turning the other cheek. Giving people a free pass on their many shortcomings may be unacceptable to some, and I will be the first to admit that I am yet to learn the redeeming value in forgiveness of that kind, but Laurie and her siblings were able to do it. They were able to love their father the same way, even if he wasn't what he said he was. I first thought it was a little bit defeatist, letting things be like that but later on, I realized that forgiveness, in whatever form, is great.

Then, of course, the book has frames of this kind which I found raw but funny. Although I would never advocate what Laurie did, (the whole blame game, I'm lost with a lot of daddy issues thing? Just no) I enjoyed reading about it. Two wrongs don't make a right, kids, but they make for one hell of a story (and a book deal, if you're as lucky):

PS. You can learn more about the book (there are excerpts!) and the author in this interview with Jezebel.