The In-Betweens

by Davon Loeb

Beginning with the challenges of how his White father and Black mother met, with their desire "to run away and start fresh and new"-resulting in a sometimes "pretend family"-to a near-archetypal description of his grandfather having just cut the grass as the author watches with a swollen lip and a black eye, to incessant moments in which different expressions of masculinity get inculcated, Davon Loeb frequently captures the disturbing poesy of life growing up. With painstaking detail, this work is in the vein of James McBride's 'The Color of Water', Justin Torres's 'We the Animals', and Jamaica Kincaid's 'Annie John', 'The In-Betweens' is a meditation on bruise and healing. Loeb's struggles become snapshots of how transformation occurs even where shards have been piled, where one waits "for something to happen, like flashes of red and blue sirens pulsing." A truly extraordinary new voice! ~ Roy G. Guzmán, author of 'Restored Mural for Orlando'

Genres: Memoir, Nonfiction, Jewish, Biography Memoir, Essays, African American

200 pages, Paperback

First published February 1, 2023

Reviews

[Erika Dreifus]

The opening chapters of this memoir-in-essays by the son of a Black (not-Jewish) mother and a Jewish (not-Black) father immediately pulled me in. Check out a sample line that I selected for a #SundaySentence.

[K.T.]

I loved it! It was hard to put down, and I didn't want it to end. The descriptions are so vivid and real that I felt I was actually there in the scene. I giggled as I saw echoes of my own childhood in the 70s and 80s, and I hurt when I recognized the situations and feelings that we all find ourselves in, in our own ways. I look forward to more from this author. Keep writing!

[Amy Eaton]

Gorgeous writing- lyrical and densely poetic while still being accessible. Loeb explores the spaces in-between race, culture, geography and maturity levels skillfully and with heartbreak and humor. He builds bridges between worlds and gives us a new perspective to think about as we look into them. I loved this book.

[Sonora Taylor]

Essays that are equal parts poetic and touching. A wonderful collection.

[B.]

In The In-Betweens, Davon Loeb lays bare the troubles and triumphs of developing an identity growing up in a blended family. The author organizes separate chapters of essays about his life in roughly chronological order from his biological parents' relationship to his own later careers.

There are sections about the extra layer of complexity that comes with having parents with two different ethnicities and religious backgrounds (one parent is black, one is white, one Jewish, one Protestant) in a society that is constantly socially segregated. Loeb might be considered a kind of third-culture child - one or both of your parents are from a different culture than the one in which you were raised, so you feel like an outsider with a third culture that often pertains exclusively to you and rarely to really anyone else in the family. You end up being an observer. [Lin Manuel Miranda (the son of 1st generation New Yorkers from Puerto Rico) and Trevor Noah (the son of parents from two different backgrounds in South Africa) have each talked about pressing their nose against the glass of their respective societies, wanting to be a part of the other side of glass, and also wanting paternal approval.]

However, what sticks with me most is Loeb's admiration of the men in his family. He speaks of his stepfather in warm terms, calling him "Dad," since this is the person who raised him. However, Loeb feels inadequate around him in many ways. Since this is the first man he has really observed, he associates everything that Dad is -and his other son Troy- with manliness, including the brawny physique and a facility with his hands and mathematics. Loeb constantly refers to himself as "skinny" and that he is more of an artist and creative than someone who is good with rulers.

His biological father, who Loeb refers to as "my father" is the man who inadvertently contributed to the author's thin frame and interest in the arts. It turns out that his dentist father is also a sculptor. Unfortunately, the father is not often in Loeb's life to help cultivate the author's interests. It is the father's other son - Alex- who has a more direct influence. By writing a self-published poetry book and giving it to Loeb, Alex inspires his younger brother to become a writer.

There are moments in the book where the author switches from first or third person perspective (e.g. "I did this" or "We did that.") to second person perspective (e.g." You and Mom were dressed up."). It is a jarring switch. Then you notice the author uses second person in chapters dedicated to his biological father, or to his bio father's other son Alex. It feels as if Loeb is talking directly to the people in his life who have spoken to him the least. It feels as if the reader is intruding on a private conversation. It would be nice to know the motives of this artistic choice.

Another creative choice is in rarely naming anyone. Most people are discussed in their relationship to the author, e.g. "my grandmother." Loeb's ancestors and parents feel almost faceless and distant. He names his Aunt Sammy, his brothers. He names his father, but only briefly in a transcript of a phone call when he needed to remind someone of his identity -"Harry's other son," but he doesn't use it generously. The reader is thoroughly in the headspace of a child's perspective - knowing people by their connection to you, not by the names on the birth certificate. Even in the acknowledgements, he does not refer to his mother by name; he does acknowledge his wife by name.

The book ends with Loeb as an adult telling the tale of a coworker who seems to be struggling with dementia and racism and is forced to retire. He does not speak to this person when noticing him later, which feels like an abrupt and cruel way to end the book. There is more to be said in the author's life, so I hope Loeb picks up where he left off some day.


Note: I was given a complimentary book, but the opinion is my own.

[Zibby Owens]

Resounding and frank, this miracle is the story of a biracial man coming of age and trying to understand where he fits in American society. As a biracial, privileged, heterosexual male, the author wanted to embrace all parts of himself by highlighting all of his in-betweenness. As much as it is about race, about being Black and being Jewish, it's also about being a kid and not being a teenager yet, being a teenager and not a man. He tells his story universally so that readers, regardless of prejudice, will see themselves throughout The In-Betweens.

It's so fitting that "lyrical" is part of the title—the writing is utterly captivating. There's a passage early on where the author describes that his mother's car needs repair. He says, "But it ran, like how a smoker with emphysema ran, and you might not have been able to tell who was more broken, the car or her. How her hair had split ends and was wrapped in something faded and frilly, and the frames she usually only wore before bed magnified hot and puffy dark eyes, and she had pulled on whatever sweatpants and sweatshirt she could find in the closet, so her clothes didn't match. Her perfume wasn't sprayed, and she might not have showered at all. And while this does not define a broken woman, this woman was in pieces, like this car, the two-door 1984 Chevette with no frills, no automated windows, no cassette tape player, no leather seats, no air conditioner, just a box on wheels with an engine, and it sputtered, hissed, and wheezed. When she continued forgetting to press the clutch, the gears ground, and we covered our ears." He conveys so much in those couple of paragraphs. I'm happy I got to spend time with this book. It was engaging, candid, and beautifully delivered.

To listen to my interview with the author, go to my podcast at: https://shows.acast.com/moms-dont-hav...

[Tucker]

Really interesting craft choice of leaving each vignette unresolved, and carrying a similar retrospective storytelling voice throughout. All of the stories provoke thought. Some also had especially memorable scenes and lessons, like the O.J. Simpson Wax Museum and the bat guano cleanup. The one about the drunk girl, though, was uncomfortable, since it was unclear to me if she was just regular-drunk of her own accord or if a boy had drugged her; on that one, then, I did want more of an explanation if not necessarily a resolution.

[Matthew]

There is such a careful, crafted touch to this memoir. I admire the way Loeb doesn't tell a full story a lot of the time. We move in and out, through, up, under the history. Aren't we always crafting memories into a mix of who we were, who we are, who we want(ed) to be? We're never complete- why should a memory be?

I do not often find myself attracted to memoirs, but Loeb is too touching and honest to skip out on.

[Sophie Cornwell]

I think this is one of my favorite memoirs I have ever read. It is raw, gritty with a powerful voice throughout, and it is honest. Sometimes it is painfully honest, and there was a portion that for me personally was very difficult to read. But he told the truth about his life and experiences in a way that I think most people are afraid to do.

[Mr. V.]

Just an all around beautiful memoir. Poetic and candid, I didn’t want it to end. There were many moments that had me reflecting on aspects and experiences of my own life too. Each chapter can stand alone as a memorable essay on its own merit, so it’s a good book to take slowly to get you thinking.

[el]

An excellent personal account and social commentary that was all-together to relatable to this reader. Race, class, socioeconomics, gender and sexuality are all thematic underpinnings of this author's coming-of-age experience.

[Curtis]

The book was fine overall. But I didn't like the style used for the memoir. It was a bunch of vignettes that weren't necessarily chronological and the author overused pronouns which made it difficult to figure out who he was talking about.

[Patricia Murphy]

A unique life discussed in a unique form.

[Jaclyn]

Find my review at The Literary Review: https://www.theliteraryreview.org/boo...