Jean Feraca’s road to self-fulfillment has been as quirky and demanding as the characters in her incredible memoir. A veteran of several decades of public radio broadcasting, Feraca is also a writer and a poet. She is a talk show host beloved for her unique mixture of the humanities, poetry, and journalism, and is the creator of the pioneering international cultural affairs radio program Here on Radio without Borders . In this searing memoir, Feraca traces her own emergence. She pulls back the curtain on her private life, revealing unforgettable portraits of the characters in her brawling Italian-American Jenny, the grandmother, the devil woman who threw Casey Stengel down an excavation pit; Dolly, the mother, a cross between Long John Silver and the Wife of Bath, who in battling mental illness becomes the scourge of a Lutheran nursing home; and Stephen, the brilliant but troubled older brother, an anthropologist adopted by a Sioux tribe. In a new chapter that reinforces and ties together the book’s exploration of the multiple forms of love, Jean introduces us to Roger, a Wildman and her husband’s best friend with whom she, too, develops an extraordinary intimacy. A selection of fifteen of Feraca’s poems add counterpoint to her engaging prose.
I love the concept. The book is arranged around a poem, with each line corresponding to a chapter. Each chapter is a self-contained essay. The first, about her brother, is very good. The second, about her mother, is fantastic. If the entire book had been as good as the second chapter, I would have given it five stars. The rest are good, but not great. She has a way with metaphors, but can be somewhat wordy without actually communicating all the important details. It is, however, worth a read just for the second chapter, which is memoir writing at its best.
The author's voice and heart seem to emanate from this book. There is a strong emphasis on the Show, don't tell technique. The beginning was a bit slow for me and then the section about the author's mother hooked me in.
I believe I enjoyed this book because I'm familiar with Jean Feraca's work on Wisconsin Public Radio. And, since reading the book, have found that knowing a thing or two about her life makes her commentary somewhat more interesting. The book was well written, but rather disjointed. I was initially pulled in by the story of her brother, but unfortunately, in my opinion, she didn't develop it nearly enough. She spent quite a bit of time in details related to her new (third) husband. However, I never really received a clear picture of who he was, or just what made their relationship work. And, truthfully he seemed like a nice guy, but not actually all that interesting. Hmmm, maybe I should have given it two stars .....
I'm deeply grateful that every rare once in a while, a small press or a university press bothers to send out into the world a collection of contemplative, ruminative essays. These by Jean Feraca range from complex portraits of her brother and mother to travel memoir to an essay on studying with Donald Hall that's packed with good writing advice--and every page is infused with love.
"Did the poem ring true? Did it have closure? Had it earned the right to make that final statement? It was integrity we were testing, the poet’s as well as the poem’s. Beneath what was written on the page, we were learning to read ourselves, to unearth in the poem’s encryption our own deep-seated dreams and fears." –Jean Faraca, I Hear Voices (Madison, WI: Terrace Books, 2007)
Seven essays by poet and public radio host Feraca. One is about her brother--his life, problems, and his death. Another is about her mother--her life, dementia, and death. Her poet mentor, Donald Hall, is the subject of hone. There are some nice bits of writing, but overall the book feels disjointed, as if some parts are missing.
This is a very moving book about important moments in the author's life. She writes very much like the poet she is. It was a very emotional read, and took some time to get through and digest. But it was worth it.
I loved the first two chapters of this book--the others not so much. The chapter dealing with her mother, "a monster who lived well into her nineties" was very moving. I felt pity for the caregivers at the Oakwood facility who had to deal with both the mother and the daughter.