Savvy Women

A few days ago I was in the “Biography and Autobiography” section of one of my favorite used bookstores, a place called The Book Spot. My eyes began reading the titles on the spines of all the volumes for sale. As I did so, my head would move, from left to right, as I scanned everything on each shelf. I suddenly came across a title—Autobiography of a Face—that grabbed me and held on. The author’s name was Lucy Grealy. I reached up, pulled the book from its place among the others, and looked at its cover. Right below the title and author’s name was a black-and-white photo of a young girl holding what looks to be a semi-transparent sheet of paper over her face so that everything but her forehead and hair are hidden. I opened it, read the first paragraph, and then went up and paid the price shown on the back cover.

I finished the book last night. For a few days now, I’ve known that I would blog the book, the author, the video—a Charlie Rose interview that Grealy did back in 1994, the year the book was published and made its splash—and a few thoughts that came to mind as I was reading the memoir.

OK, so now you know the basics of the author’s story: That she had an obscure form of cancer which left her face disfigured and that she struggled (literally for decades) to come to terms with her appearance. What you don’t know, if you haven’t read the book, is that Grealy is a talented writer who has written a powerful and moving story. So, if you like memoirs or books about characters who overcome challenges, I would highly recommend that you pick up a copy.

(I just learned, literally minutes ago while doing additional research, that Grealy died in December of 2002, of what her Wikipedia page describes as “an accidental drug overdose” but elsewhere is referred to as “suicide.” Of course, this new revelation raises questions about my “characters who overcome challenges” phrase in the previous paragraph.)

A lot of things came to mind while I was reading Grealy. For one, I was reminded of my own adolescence, a period when I thought I was the ugliest thing on two legs, mostly because I was short, somewhat frail, and had terrible acne for a time. (Most people have had periods of self-loathing like this, I’m quite certain.) But Grealy’s case was really extreme, and I can only imagine what her life must have been like as she endured the teasing and taunting, coming mostly from her schoolmates, that she so vividly describes in her book.

What does it say about human nature that we put so much stock into how our faces and bodies look that simply not being considered appealing to the eyes is enough to undermine self-esteem and inevitably destroy lives? If we put half as much energy into being concerned about what we look like on the inside, this world would undoubtedly be a kinder and gentler place.

Two or three weeks ago I was in need of something to read. The university library was not immediately accessible to me, so I walked to the nearest bookstore and began to browse the shelves.

That’s one I’ll be sure to get my hands on.

I knew the moment I watched this CNN video that I’d have to blog it. It’s a story that resonates with me on many different levels.

First of all, Sibahle Tshibika, the video’s protagonist, has a very strong presence in the film despite being so soft-spoken. When I look at her, I see a deep-seated sadness (or world weariness) in her eyes, but, while watching her dance, I can’t help but feel that she’s learned to use her emotionality as a kind of fuel, one that will take her far in life (it has already carried her across a vast ocean) even if she doesn’t end up being a professional performer. Rosemary Ringer, the viewer who felt compelled to contact Atlanta Ballet after watching the HBO documentary, mentions, when discussing Tshibika’s early life, that our dancer grew up in impoverished surroundings. After taking a look at this very interesting site about the township where our aspirant was born and had her formative experiences, it’s easy to see that Ringer was perhaps being a bit generous in her assessment of the place.

As a student of the arts, I have often been fascinated by creative endeavors done by “outsiders,” meaning people who are not part of the cultural elite. These artists are often called “self-taught” and the work that they do is sometimes referred to as “naïve.” I would say that Sibahle falls into this category. I would also say that it would be a misnomer to call her (or her dancing) naïve, at least in the more pejorative sense of what that word can mean. (An aside: one of my favorite women “outsider” writers is Tillie Olsen, profiled here.)

Now, getting back to the CNN video. I found the message to be a powerful one: When one door closes, another one always opens. I have discovered this to be true in my own life. I can’t think of many times when I didn’t get a second chance at something after the first one came and went.

To use another metaphor, there really is truth to the old saying that every cloud has a silver lining.