A Review of

Mary Karr's Lit: A Memoir

by Joe Quinton

   A book that ends on a different note. Those who have read her previous, best selling memoirs, The Liars’ Club: A Memoir and Cherry will find many of the same characters. Mother, sister, echos of her dead father all are there. But this chapter of her life takes us beyond the Texas town where she was brought up into a completely different world. College in the Midwest, Cambridge, Syracuse, marriage and divorce, birth of a child, and adult life with little money. Around the telling of all this are the trials of addiction and mental disturbance. The story is told with the verve of an accomplished storyteller and the vocabulary of a poet.

   One element present in the book is the extraordinary talent Karr has for making friends. No matter where she is or on what jackpot she is in, there is someone who tries to help her. This is particularly evident in the chapters that tell the story of her finally stopping her destructive drinking. People do their utmost to assist her despite the standoffishness she displays. But is not only in emergencies that her friendliness pays off. An anonymous friend enters her name in a poetry prize contest. She wins the honor and a much needed check.

   Of particular interest to the reader would be the account of her alcoholism. Many in our society are familiar with this disease but have never had it presented as honestly as it is in Karr’s account. It is said alcoholism is a family disease; both from the fact that many alcoholics have parents or other relatives with the same problem and that it had disastrous effects on one’s immediate family. In her previous memoirs Karr has portrayed a family who were spectacular drinkers. This is not a guarantee of alcoholism; Karr’s sister was spared.

   Her account of her drinking history should dispel the notion that the alcoholic drinks to have fun or that alcoholics, by asserting “will power,” can stop their self destruction. It took the assistance of many who became her friends to take her off the path of destruction. Her description of the people who help her is a testimony to the goodness of human beings. And she portrays a wide of individuals: the Harvard professor who is available daily; the newly minted M.D. who ten years before was on the streets; the down and outers who watch her son while she is at meetings.

   The final life-changing tool that she shows is prayer. She gradually, with much resistance, begins to use prayer not only for her own recovery but also to be a help to others. It gradually becomes a constant in life. She learns one particular prayer, “the St. Francis,” and teaches it to her son as a going to bed prayer.

   Her prayer or spiritual life begins slowly. She resists the suggestions from those healing her to recover from alcoholism that prayer will relieve some of the miseries that still plague her. Slowly under their urging she tries it, one prayer at a time. We see her praying in secret when she is outside her home and finally kneeling to pray in her home. She seeks, is pushed, to look inside herself, to list the faults she finds and then share them with an elderly monk. The sharing, like so much else on this path, brings her relief. Her descriptions of the happiness that she had begun to find are some of the most joyous passages in the book. The climax comes when at the breakfast table her son announces that he wants to go to church. When Karr idly asks why, he answers, “to see if God is there.” This begins a spiritual path that will perplex some people, make others shake their heads and leave many with questions.

   One thread that has run through the book is Karr’s devotion to her son, “Dev.” So when she gets this response she immediately goes in a search for a church that has God. The chapter telling of the search is human and humorous. She rejects one church that she likes because it is cold. They have no heat. Finally after a series of tries she follows the suggestion of a friend and goes to a Catholic church. In her previous questings she had always brought a book in case of tedium. Leaving this service she discovers she hadn’t touched it, in fact left it behind. This becomes the church of choice, of God, not because of the beauty of the service but because the people have surrendered. This is the turning point. As she gets to know the parishioners and the priest, she is drawn further and further into the church. “God’s after you,” says the priest, and that is more than the truth.

   Her faith is visible in her book of poems Viper Rum. In the poem “Chosen Blindness” she contrasts her suicide attempt with standing next to her son with both singing from the same hymnal. The poem “The Grand Miracle” mentions some of her doubts but shows “how the prospect/ of love cheers me up, as gospel.”

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Biographical Note: Joe Quinton is a recent resident of Chester County, Pennsylvania after lives spent in Providence, Boston, West Palm Beach and Kingsville, Texas. He came to poetry after retiring and seeking some form of expression. He finds it serves as a journal of life today and a memento of what was once. Both themes appear and reappear in his poetry. Joe is a regular contributor to Creek Road Gang, his poetry most recently appearing in last month's issue. See also the Author Index for Poetry to find more of his work.