Pat Conroy (1945–2016)

Conroy's memoir of the time he spent teaching on "Yamacraw Island," his fictional name for Daufuskie Island, off the coast of South Carolina in ~1969. His portraits of the people there and of teaching the African American children there is fascinating. Some other aspects of the book dragged a bit for me (his descriptions of getting to and from the island, his fights with the school board) were less interesting, almost entirely because I've heard such things before, and these descriptions show more were no different than those. That is not a criticism of the book; Conroy writing in 1972 can't be held accountable for the fact that a reader fifty years later has heard the very stories he helped make known. I do wish he had spent a little more time providing context--the history of the island and so on. But on the whole, definitely worth reading, especially as Conroy's account of this year rarely, if ever, descends into white savior nonsense: he is fully aware of his racism and his limitations and ends the book remarking that he doesn't think he changed the lives of his students one bit. It's kind of the opposite of the "inspirational teacher" trope, as far as I could see. There's nothing particularly "feel good" about this narrative, and that was somewhat refreshing in a way. Heads up for language, especially racist terms we would be shocked to find used matter-of-factly in a such a book if it were written today. show less

Lt Col Bull Meecham is a Marine fighter pilot – No – he is the GREATEST Marine Fighter Pilot. Just ask his family or any of the men serving under him. This novel gives us a glimpse of one Marine’s family. Lillian is the gentle, Southern-born wife who tempers her husband’s erratic drive with a cool, steady demeanor. She is the buffer between Bull and their children. But as their first-born, Ben, moves toward high school graduation, he is increasingly at odds with his father. No matter show more how he excels – at sports or academics – it is never good enough to please the Colonel.

I really disliked Bull and yet I really liked the novel. Conroy completely drew me into this dysfunctional family and their complicated relationships. I loved the way he gave us insight into his characters by showing us examples of their strengths and weaknesses: Ben one-on-one against his father shooting baskets in the driveway; Mary Anne masking her pain with a smart retort; Bull coming to Ben’s defense against the town bullies; Lillian pleading with Ben to bring his father home.

As much as I disliked Bull, I grew to love Ben. He is a sensitive boy, growing to manhood, and he is able to glean the good lessons from his father – loyalty to your family and friends, championing the weak, hard work and never giving up – and recognize the poor example as well, vowing to never be like his father in those ways.

The person I was most infuriated with was Lillian. Her blind devotion to the man she married – or the man she hoped he was – drove me crazy. Even when confronted with specific evidence she refused to see how harmful Bull’s behavior was to her and her children.

I have had Pat Conroy on my reading radar for a long time, but never read any of his novels before this. I’m certain this won’t be my last Conroy work. show less

Pat Conroy's voice is unlike any other. His personality shines through the most well-thought-out, gorgeous prose I know of. He is fathoms deep and yet has a sense of humor that leaps off the pages. I take this book with me when I travel on airplanes and have read it repeatedly. Conroy is top of my list of favorite writers, and that he wrote and assembled essays on the books that influenced his craft and life is a gift to all readers. As for writers, what Pat Conroy did in writing this book show more is basically hand all writers the keys to the kingdom! show less

Writers who learn their craft from a devoted and rigorous reading life are the best. Not the ones who read for assignments in an MFA program, or the ones who read from lists in “how-to write your first novel” manuals, or the ones who read to keep up with their market. But the ones who are compelled to pick up a pen and paper in response to the siren call emanating from their favorites books and authors. The ones who learn accidentally, consuming page after page until they’ve been show more infused with the creative marrow. The autodidact Jack London immediately comes to mind, a young man who devoured everything he could put his hand on in his quest.

Until Pat Conroy’s [My Reading Life], I wouldn’t have known he had a similar path to the writing life. Cursed with a cold, abusive father, his young life was redeemed by a curious and introspective mother. Together they on a personal education through literature. Of it, he says,”

“From the beginning, I’ve searched out those writers unafraid to stir up the emotions, who entrust me with their darkest passions, their most indestructible yearnings, and their most soul-killing doubts. I trust the great novelists to teach me how to live, how to feel, how to love and hate. I trust them to show me the dangers I will encounter on the road as I stagger on my own troubled passage through a complicated life of books that try to teach me how to die.”

From Margaret Mitchell to Dickens to Thomas Wolfe to James Dickey, Conroy describes his love of reading and how it informed his own writing career. It was a pleasure to see authors who have fallen out of favor, or onto reader’s far backlists, in today’s point and click world. Wolfe, for example, with his overflowing prose, doesn’t get much more than a sour look anymore. But Conroy loved him for his willingness to wear the creative spirit on his sleeve. And Conroy’s exegesis of Mitchell’s [Gone with the Wind] will make you forget about Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh.

Interestingly, something about the way he developed his writing sensibilities also gave him a suspicious eye toward other writers. Maybe this was a function of coming to the craft from a sincere love of words and stories – a calling rather than a profession:

“The world of writers was a snake hole, a circle of hell – a rat’s nest and a whirlpool and a dilemma – not just a world. … I’ve spent most of my life avoiding the companionship of writers. The tribe is contentious, the breed dangerous.”

His own college mentor, Dickey, he described as vindictive and combative. But his best example was Alice Walker, whom he met at his first writer’s conference. He handed over his copy of her book to sign, telling her how much he had enjoyed it. She signed it and walked away from him, refusing to utter a word. Later, a friend told him that she had “a thing about Southern white men.”

[My Reading Life] can be a guidepost for the readers among us, a sort of book club on paper, chaired by the most passionate of readers. But it’s also invaluable as a writing companion. Conroy graciously endeavors to define what it means to write, to answer the call. More than one time, he suggests that his stories are his way of making sense of his life.

“I am always trying to interpret the relationship between writing and life, between experience and art. Once I thought writing was a simple act, a matter of cataloging the most sacred items of God, the naming of things of darkness. But that definition was never good enough. It is not enough to name and catalog. … The writer must reach back deeply into memory, into those frightening unmarked streets, must walk until exhausted, eyes open, bearing gifts, mind blazing with the dignity of language, blood burning, images beginning to form like jade in the bloodstream. Until he turns that corner, reaches that street, arrives at that moment of pure divine inspiration, of ineffable chance, when there is an explosion – and he see the burning man – then he can begin to write. The burning man is always alive.”

Perhaps Conroy saw his calling as a flaming imperative because his education, his reading, did more than help him explain his life – it saved his soul. Show me a writer like that because reading his work is more than a pastime, it’s a soul-filling need.

Bottom Line: A beautiful guidebook for readers and writers. Conroy is not just someone you want to read – he’s someone you want to know.

5 bones!!!!!
An all-time favorite. show less