2.5 stars
An interesting memoir of two women who found out in their 30s that they were identical twins—separated at birth by their adoption agency and placed with different families, neither of which was told that their new daughter was a twin. The discovery of their connection sent them on a personal journey of connection with one another, as well as seeking information about their birth mother and the reasons the agency chose to separate them. Elyse Schein and Paula Bernstein wrote the memoir together in frequently alternating sections of roughly equal length, each sharing her own feelings and views on events.
It’s a really interesting story, and the authors are good storytellers who kept me wanting to know what happens next. They open up a lot of themselves in this book, including thoughts and feelings that don’t make them look good, as they explore the complications of being twins: Paula in particular has reservations about the whole thing (Elyse was the one doing the searching, Paula the one who was found), but they both struggle with sometimes difficult communication, with figuring out what their expectations should be for each other, with the weirdness of meeting someone else who shares their body. This is exacerbated by the fact that both have body issues and have struggled with eating disorders, but they also find themselves irritated by mundane things (in one scene, both tell each other that the other’s facial gestures seem like an uncomfortably exaggerated version of their own). Despite all that though, they do form a strong bond: they have a lot in common, and they meet each other’s families and become partners in a quest to discover the truth.
The truth, by the way, is only half-discovered by the end. Some sleuthing allows them to uncover the identity of their birth mother, but there are still many unanswered questions about their first months. When the twins were born in 1968, the agency’s consulting psychologist, Dr. Viola Bernard, apparently believed that rearing twins together was a burden on both the twins themselves and on their families, though this was very much a minority position in the psychological establishment at that time. Another researcher, Dr. Peter Neubauer, jumped on the opportunity to study child development in separated twins, without ever telling the families the purpose of the study. The authors eventually interview Neubauer and others, but are unable to get access to most of the information about the study, which is sealed until 2066. Unfortunately, this is far from the only questionable decision made by the agency—in another seemingly unfathomable choice, both babies were kept in foster care for months (in Elyse’s case, nine!) before finally being passed on to their adoptive families.
Unfortunately, while the writing is easy to read and keeps the story moving, I wouldn’t call either of the twins an exceptional writer. They include a lot of dialogue, which keeps things moving but often sounds a bit stilted (there’s no indication they were recording themselves during these events, so I’m guessing they are taking artistic license and just aren’t very good dialogue writers). They also seem to default to a binary way of thinking: though they are clearly far from experts, they write about twin psychology and history, and seem stuck for instance on the idea of a nature vs. nurture dichotomy. Researchers now know this is anything but a simple binary: people influence their environment, while the environment influences gene expression and determines what genes are even relevant. And the thing is, the authors know this. But they keep reverting to simplistic conceptions, full of confirmation bias, for instance, claiming that a particular similarity between them “proves” that this trait is genetic. Hence, a lot of discussion of the similarities between the two of them, and between other pairs of reunited twins, even when those similarities are obviously at least in part cultural (like mannerisms) or pure coincidence (another pair of reunited twins whose older brothers had the same first name).
My favorite bit on this subject was their question, “if we’d been raised by each other’s families, would I be you and you be me?” In other words, are people no more than the sum total of genetics plus environment? Perhaps the book’s most enduring question, and far more interesting than the ones they try simplistically to answer.
Meanwhile, the memoir is written in the present tense, which I always think a poor choice—among other things, it inhibits perspective on past events—but it’s particularly unfortunate here, since these events only took place a couple of years before the book was written. So they relay thoughts and opinions in the present tense, and it’s impossible to tell whether they’re simply writing about how they felt at the time, or whether they still hold that opinion today.
Finally, while I admire the authors for putting themselves out there in ways that aren’t always pretty, they have an unfortunate tendency to come across as smug, occasionally judgmental. Paula seems to view herself as the successful twin because she’s married with a kid while Elyse is single, and occasionally thinks about how she doesn’t need a sister because she has a husband, and how she never asked to be found anyway. All of which comes across especially unfortunate because Elyse seems more emotionally invested in their sisterhood, and is insecure about being single.
Elyse, on the other hand, comes across as equally smug about her bohemian lifestyle (living in a cubby in Paris and couch-surfing when visiting the U.S.), and makes a really weird comment early on about how it was important to her not to be like “the [French] suburbanites who commuted every day in order to pay for a satellite dish and a yearly six-week vacation to the south of France.” Wait, I’m sorry, a six week vacation? Every year? In other words, she’s turning up her nose at something those of us from her home country (which I assume is also the primary market for this book) can dream of only in retirement? There are also what feel like a lot of gratuitous comments complaining about her teenage nephew’s drug habit; this winds up making some sense when he dies of an overdose partway through the story, but since I went in not knowing that, these passages distracted me by violating the privacy a young person who doesn’t even seem to have an active role in her life.
In reality, I suspect a lot of what comes across as self-righteousness is actually the twins’ feeling threatened in their identities and life choices by having discovered their twinship, and feeling that they need to defend themselves against the implied attack of someone else with the same genes having made different choices. But the abovementioned present-tense lack of perspective and tendency toward easy answers means that’s not an analysis they suggest themselves. That said, while their way of being may get under my skin a bit, I do admire their honesty and plenty of readers have been unbothered.
In the end, an interesting memoir if you’re interested in stories of adoption and complicated families, and one you can read quickly. Not one I’m likely to recommend widely, though. A couple of final notes: I would be curious to read an update now (the book was published in 2007; since then, have the twins used genetic testing to find their birth father or his family?), and as always, I appreciate the inclusion of pictures!