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A review by gaudaddy
The Chronology of Water: A Memoir by Lidia Yuknavitch
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
2.75
This book shines in its excellent writing, sentences flowing in and out of one another elegantly and with great intent. What this book lacks is a sense of self awareness. This book is unapologetically and incessantly white, horny, edgy, and narcissistic. I understand that the memoir genre, almost by definition has to be self-centred but there's a fine line between that and whatever narcissistic tirade this is.
There are sections of this book which I loved, but then there are inexcusable sections like her drunk driving into a pregnant woman and almost killing her and being so utterly unapologetic about it. There is a active attempt at something akin to manipulation where Lidia tries to make us believe that somehow in that scenario, she - a self-obsessed white woman, is the primary victim and that we must somehow sympathise with her. I fail to understand how someone with such an edge to her expression can be so utterly devoid of any self-awareness.
There is a good book in there somewhere - one where she has reflected on the very active harm that she has caused to a lot of people in this memoir. Maybe she will write that book someday and I will read it and I will like it, but till then, this is just a collection of plain immature ramblings, albeit beautifully written, by a writer who seems to be too scared of her own life.
There are sections of this book which I loved, but then there are inexcusable sections like her drunk driving into a pregnant woman and almost killing her and being so utterly unapologetic about it. There is a active attempt at something akin to manipulation where Lidia tries to make us believe that somehow in that scenario, she - a self-obsessed white woman, is the primary victim and that we must somehow sympathise with her. I fail to understand how someone with such an edge to her expression can be so utterly devoid of any self-awareness.
There is a good book in there somewhere - one where she has reflected on the very active harm that she has caused to a lot of people in this memoir. Maybe she will write that book someday and I will read it and I will like it, but till then, this is just a collection of plain immature ramblings, albeit beautifully written, by a writer who seems to be too scared of her own life.