Can a memoir be funny? Can it be about a more or less healthy family? Can it work without a traumatic reveal? The answer is an emphatic yes - but these memoirs are pretty rare. One shining example is “Nobody Will Tell You This But Me” by Bess Kalb, a book full of delights and unexpected poignancy.
Bess uses a narrative device and some formal innovations to place her grandmother, Bobby, as the teller of the story. It’s Bobby’s voice we hear, while slyly revealing Bess’s own story along the way, and the story of their relationship, and the story of Bobby’s fraught relationship to Bess’ mother. Bobby is determined, opinionated, wealthy and spendy; she’s a survivor and a bon vivant; she was a terrible mother who became an excellent grandmother.
Bess’ ability to let her grandmother’s darker impulses come through is pretty brilliant; there’s a turn about a third of the way in that is so smart and so skilled and so agile… I bow deeply to it. We get such a deep feel for the character without Bess commenting on her. And there’s a scene in a restaurant where Bobby needles Bess about her weight that I will remember for the rest of my life - it’s harrowing, it’s perfect.
Has Bess been given the proper due for her virtuosic comedic capacity and for the formal inventiveness and ingenuity of this book? I don’t quite think she has. The book came out in March 2020; a lot of the literature that came out in the early pandemic months lost a bulk of their readership to women zoom schooling and wiping down groceries.
Needless to say I highly recommend this book. I laughed out loud, I cried out loud. I thank my sister-in-law, Julie, for passing it along to me. You can find it for sale in my nonprofit bookstore here.
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We spent an afternoon in pure bliss with the disco roller skaters in Central Park who are still going strong, many of them in their 80s. What a beautiful community: It’s extremely intergenerational and multi cultural and economically diverse, the dj was awesome and it’s free. Nothing will make you say I love New York louder than spending some time with these people. My husband referred to it as antidepressants on wheels. My girls brought their roller skates and joined in. One of the happiest family afternoons of my year so far.
Photos by Bob Dea
Thank you for reading and thanks especially to my paying subscribers.
I will leave you with this gem. These three guys, they’re like the main characters of my personality: the shining star, the spacey nerd, the resentful tired person. Stay hydrated.
xo Lizzie
PS - I’ll be leading a dreamy retreat in Sonoma County for writers at all levels working on memoir January 3-8, 2025. Blow off your other responsibilities and obligations with us for five days and nights or reading, writing, walking in nature and receiving deep downloads from the universe. Space is limited. More info here.
My book group read Bess Kalb’s book during lockdown, and it was exactly the balm we needed. I am an eager reader of her Substack, where she writes hilariously about being a mother of young children (often so funny that even as a mother of young adults, I am still interested). She also uses the space to write courageously and wisely (and sometimes with dark humor) about being a liberal Jew dealing with October 7 and the hideous war in Gaza. I am usually grateful that someone expressed my own views with such clarity and humanity. She also wrote a children’s book and posts the occasional funny video. I’m so glad you are giving her a shout out—she really deserves it.
You would love it!