Molly Jong-Fast

I'm currently in therapy dealing with my own issues developed from a lifetime of coping with a narcissistic, mentally unfit, neglectful, locally "famous" widely-beloved mother who is now declining into dementia. Aside from the plethora of world-travelling famous family, friends, and acquaintances, this is my life. The buildup is slow and gradual, and on occasion I found myself laughing aloud at a snippet of (unintentional?) humor but also gasping at the bold, brutal things that adult show more children of narcissists so often think in our hearts but hardly ever say aloud, because who would believe us? There are repetitive ruminations, rehashing of a topic again and again, because this is the reality. We second-guess everything, we play and replay scenarios in our heads trying to figure things out. Guilt, shame, anger, uncertainty, reassurance, futile arguments and attempts to be understood, seen, listened to. And to lose it all, again, to dementia, to know you'll never get that resolution. It's awful, and no one will understand but another who has lived this kind of life. I'm recommending this one for my therapist to read. Thank you, Molly Jong-Fast, for baring your soul and I wish you peace. show less

The guiltiest of guilty pleasures.

When I was 12, I found a copy of Erica Jong's [b:Fear of Flying|9654|Fear of Flying|Erica Jong|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388190180l/9654._SY75_.jpg|2164933] in my mother's dresser drawer. My very prudish, disapproving mother, I should add. I was fascinated, horrified and yes titillated by Jong's thinly veiled autobiographical novel, in which a young married woman goes looking for a "zipless fuck." That term would show more barely raise an eyebrow these days, but in 1973 it was scandalous to think that nice upper class white women wanted raunchy, purely physical sex. Flying was a blockbuster bestseller, and Jong appeared on TV and magazine covers as the spokesperson for "modern feminism," whatever that meant at the time. Jong's subsequent novels, all heavily autobiographical, failed to reach similar heights, although she continued publishing into the 21st century (including 2015's [b:Fear of Dying|23848189|Fear of Dying|Erica Jong|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1422904826l/23848189._SX50_.jpg|45955129], lol).

All of this is prologue to the fact that Jong's only child, Molly Jong-Fast, has written a juicy nepo-baby memoir (insert Jon-Stewart-eating-popcorn meme here). The book focuses primarily on one excruciating year in which Molly's mother was diagnosed with dementia, her stepfather died of Parkinson's disease, and her husband was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Interspersed among Jong-Fast's details of her annus horribilis are memories of growing up with a narcissistic, alcoholic mother. Erica Jong's fictional stand-in loved to emphasize the beautiful bond with her daughter "Megan," while the real Erica left Molly with nannies so she could chase after the next man who was going to save her. There were isolated moments of closeness - Erica taking Molly on extravagant shopping trips or staying up late watching TV and eating ice cream, but those just made it more confusing for the daughter.

Jong-Fast briefly describes her own history of addiction, which climaxed in her insisting that she needed to go to rehab and Erica accusing her of being "overly dramatic." But the book's focus is on the grief, anger, and schadenfreude of seeing her fame-hungry mother reduced to a shadow of her former self: unbathed, incontinent, and only occasionally able to recognize her own kid. Jong-Fast is not a particularly skilled writer, but the events she recalls are so striking that the unembellished language does just fine. As the daughter of a (once) famous author and the granddaughter of another (Howard Fast, well-known author of primarily historical novels) there are plenty of opportunities for literary name dropping, and Molly doesn't disappoint (Joan Didion! [a:Taffy Brodesser-Akner|7235807|Taffy Brodesser-Akner|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1712266073p2/7235807.jpg]! [a:Ken Follett|3447|Ken Follett|https://images.gr-assets.com/authors/1604049089p2/3447.jpg]!)

As of the book's publication date, Erica Jong is still alive. This is real life, so there is no closure , no moment when Erica understands and apologizes for her failures as a mother. There is some belated acceptance that Erica did the best she could with the tools she had (alcoholism ran in her family, including her mother).

What did I get out of the book? A glimpse into the life of the rich, white, and privileged, and a shameful amount of glee at seeing a supreme narcissist suffering the worst possible fate - being ignored and forgotten. My mother was also a narcissist (although not a drinker), so it's possible that I have some Issues with that specific personality disorder. YMMV if you use "mid-century modern" to refer to anything built in 1973.

N.B. Manny Rayner's killer Goodreads parody/review of Fear of Flying made my day. show less

This memoir is an incredibly sad account of Molly Jong-Fast's dysfunctional relationship with her mother, Erica Jong, whose novel, "Fear of Flying," made her a household name. Molly is an only child who desperately craved her mother's love and attention. Unfortunately, Erica married multiple times, had affairs, and was an alcoholic who made inappropriate comments in in public. Molly drank and did drugs as a teenager, but she voluntary entered rehab and became sober at nineteen. She still show more attends AA meetings and has sought therapeutic help in an attempt to achieve some peace of mind. She is grateful to have a devoted husband and three children who mean the world to her.

In "How to Lose Your Mother," Jong-Fast discusses Erica Jong's self-absorption and out-of-control behavior. Jong, whose success opened many door for her, traveled frequently and left Molly with a nanny for extended periods. Years later, it is heartbreaking when Molly realizes that her aging mother and stepfather can no longer care for themselves. She must decide whether it is feasible for them to remain in their own home.

One wonders if Ms. Jong-Fast wrote this book as a catharsis to exorcise her inner demons. Reading about her angst—Molly had the additional challenges of being born with dyslexia and coping with an eating disorder—is wrenching. Observing her abject misery, bitterness, and longing for what might have been leaves us dismayed. "How to Lose Your Mother" demonstrates what most of us already know—that certain individuals are not equipped to be parents. They do their offspring no favors when they fail to give them the encouragement, support, and affection they need in order to become happy and confident adults. show less

I like Molly's political commentary a lot, but I've always thought there was something a little bit "0ff" about her. This memoir about her relationship with her mother, the once very famous writer Erica Jong, goes quite a ways towards explaining Molly. I am old enough to remember Erica Jong in her heyday, the 1970's - '80s. Since she seemed "important" at the time, I read one of her books. It was terrible. Just as if it had been written by a self-absorbed, (and I guess alcoholic) narcissist show more who considers it essential to her identity to be sexually desireable at all times. Not much room there to provide a safe and loving environment for a child. Molly was raised by her nanny. Molly yearned for attention from her glamourous mom, but got essentially none. Her dad (long divorced from Erica) told Molly that when she was little, they tried to get her mom to spend just one hour a day with her but Erica could not do it. The most she could manage was 30 minutes. And she was drunk all the time. Years on it becomes undeniable that Erica has dementia, and it falls to Molly to become the parent and care for her mom. The story of the terrible year in which Molly must place her mom and stepdad into assisted living and also cope with her husband's diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, was for me impossible not to sympathize with. It was, as they say, a lot. show less