Sounds Like Titanic, by Jessica Chiccehitto Hindman
Though this memoir seems lighthearted and farcical at first, there's quite a lot to unpack here. Hindman is very funny as she describes this bizarre situation of being a professional musician in the employ of a hugely popular performer she calls only The Composer, whose works are incredibly simplistic ("it sounds just like Titanic!") and whose live performances are never actually live. As hilarious as her writing is, she also reckons with a lot of heavy stuff, including but not limited to: Appalachia, higher education, the wealth gap, the Middle East, eating disorders, drug abuse, poverty, anxiety disorders, and sacrifice. I'm not going to talk about her work on all of these, just the couple I found especially interesting.
When Hindman entered adolescence, something happened to her that happens to so many young women in America. Faced with the ludicrous portrayal of the female body in media and degradation from her male peers, Hindman succumbed to disordered eating, an attempt to control her body in which she felt so uncomfortable. She is part of the first generation of girls who were told by adults that she could become whatever she wanted, but their words were not accompanied by a change in behavior towards women. Behind the violin, her body no longer mattered as an object, providing a temporary relief from the harassment of boys and the inaction of adults. Behind the violin, she wasn't pretty or ugly or fat or skinny, she was just a musician, and the way she describes this ungendering is fascinating.
Something that caught me off guard but I so enjoyed reading about was Hindman's blossoming interest in the Middle East. By virtue of being neither Muslim nor Jewish (nor religious at all) and having learned very little about the region and its history, Hindman was able to bring unbiased observations to the knotty problems that region faces. Academic success in this field turned into a genuine passion, and she was able to study abroad in Egypt, where she was living when the attacks of Sept. 11th occurred. Her perspective is intriguing, and her desire (shared by many of her fellow students) was to inform the American public of the rich history of the region, providing much-needed context for what was surely coming next. To her dismay, it become clear the Americans weren't interested in being informed. They were frightened and angry, and found it much easier to hold the Middle East and its denizens at a distance. This attitude, clearly, has not changed.
You'll notice I haven't spoken about the main topic of the book: Hindman's stint as a fake professional violinist for a fake professional composer. It's better left discovered for yourself, as I can't possibly do it justice. Hindman is a skilled story teller with a unique style and a lot of intelligent, interesting things to say about our America, and I encourage you to pick this book up when it is published in February of next year.
Pre-order it here!
When Hindman entered adolescence, something happened to her that happens to so many young women in America. Faced with the ludicrous portrayal of the female body in media and degradation from her male peers, Hindman succumbed to disordered eating, an attempt to control her body in which she felt so uncomfortable. She is part of the first generation of girls who were told by adults that she could become whatever she wanted, but their words were not accompanied by a change in behavior towards women. Behind the violin, her body no longer mattered as an object, providing a temporary relief from the harassment of boys and the inaction of adults. Behind the violin, she wasn't pretty or ugly or fat or skinny, she was just a musician, and the way she describes this ungendering is fascinating.
Something that caught me off guard but I so enjoyed reading about was Hindman's blossoming interest in the Middle East. By virtue of being neither Muslim nor Jewish (nor religious at all) and having learned very little about the region and its history, Hindman was able to bring unbiased observations to the knotty problems that region faces. Academic success in this field turned into a genuine passion, and she was able to study abroad in Egypt, where she was living when the attacks of Sept. 11th occurred. Her perspective is intriguing, and her desire (shared by many of her fellow students) was to inform the American public of the rich history of the region, providing much-needed context for what was surely coming next. To her dismay, it become clear the Americans weren't interested in being informed. They were frightened and angry, and found it much easier to hold the Middle East and its denizens at a distance. This attitude, clearly, has not changed.
You'll notice I haven't spoken about the main topic of the book: Hindman's stint as a fake professional violinist for a fake professional composer. It's better left discovered for yourself, as I can't possibly do it justice. Hindman is a skilled story teller with a unique style and a lot of intelligent, interesting things to say about our America, and I encourage you to pick this book up when it is published in February of next year.
Pre-order it here!
Comments
Post a Comment