publication date: 2015
The person who recommended this book to me absolutely loved it. She spoke about the deep connection she felt to the book: as though she was reading her own memoir, as well as the author’s. A House Of My Own did not spark the same joy in me. I thought it was just fine, but not necessarily anything I would recommend to someone else.
A House Of My Own was a collection of essays, written over decades by the author, Sandra Cisneros. Cisneros is a Mexican-American writer, most famous perhaps for her book The House On Mango Street. Much of A House Of My Own revolved around houses: Cisneros’s, her parents’, her friends’, strangers’. Cisneros also spent a lot of time discussing was it’s like to be a daughter, a Mexican-American, and a writer; sometimes she delved into those topics simultaneously.
The essays were presented largely chronologically and the book got better as Cisneros’s writing became more mature. The book became tighter and more consistent. However, I still often found the writing repetitive, uninteresting, or even puzzling. The essays repeated the same themes, anecdotes, and witticisms. Also, I found Cisneros’s myopic view of the world hard to relate to. For example, she accompanied a friend to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting “out of curiosity.” While there, she heard “testimonies of incredible pain, of humiliations that would knock out anyone.” After listening to people pour their heart out as a step in their journey of recovery, what does Cisneros take away from the meeting? That she needs to move, that she needs a new house.
Almost all the stories, even those that were about other things, were about Cisneros. It’s her memoir, after all. I just didn’t find Cisneros, or Cisneros’s ideas, that interesting. I was probably not the target audience: I have no desire to own my own home, I don’t think of writing in grand terms, and I’ve never read any of Cisneros’s other books.
However, there was some absolutely beautiful writing. In a passage about the musician Astor Piazzolla, Cisneros described his music like this:
I think Piazzolla’s music demands you dance alone, preferably under the stars. After I’ve written the there’s no one about to make me feel silly, I like a glass of wine as plush as the menstrual wall, a cigar like the kind my grandfather El Coronel smoked, and Piazzolla.
Her writing was also sprinkled with insights, such as these sentences, about the death of her father:
Whenever anyone discusses death they talk about the inevitable loss, but no one ever mentions the inevitable gain. How when you lose a loved one, you suddenly have a spirit ally, an energy on the other side. . .
Although the book did not impact me in any striking way, it certainly had some rich writing and delightful passages. Also, I know of at least one person who thoroughly loved it. Therefore, I think A House Of My Own was:
4/6: worth reading