There is a moment in the opening of the second half, where I am suddenly aware of the fact taht Karr is telling me a story. So often I forgot that during the first half, mostly because I didn’t find anything she said that unrealisitic.
They’ve just moved to Colorado and the family awakens to a bear rummaging through the trash. Her father “barks” at the bear trying to scare it off and in doing so only agitates it. I had this image of the father and the bear facing off in the yard and it seemed as far fetched as the story of her father and uncle cutting the house in half. It interests me where she juxtaposes her own story telling with her father’s.
Later she even says “I think Daddy would be proud of my telling” commenting on her own story telling ability.
And then within the last few pages:”Few born liars ever intentionally embark in truths direction, even those who believe that sucha a journey might axiomatically set them free,” which is exactly what I think she does. Anyone who writes knows how sometimes the story writes itself. Little details that aren’t folded into your memory somehow end up on the page. Sometimes stories come out in a way that fixes the problem in your head, even though you arent entirely devoted to the “truth.” I think Karr does a fantastic job of acknowledging that all of these things are her truth. This version of her history is the best way she knew how to convey her story and the best way to execute her own catharsis. I love how she ends the book with reflections on her own story telling.
Karr is bright, honest and refreshing to read. My pleasure.