Growing up in the fifties and sixties, I can only remember knowing one child, ever, whose parents got a divorce, and hardly any whose mother 'worked' at anything besides raising her children.
From Joyce Maynard
The big dramas that fascinate me are the quiet ones that happen behind closed doors in so-called ordinary families.
Although Salinger had long since cut me out of his life completely and made it plain that he had nothing but contempt for me, the thought of becoming the object of his wrath was more than I felt ready to take on.
I believed my story would be helpful to young women my daughter's age, who are still in the process of forming themselves as women, and in need of encouragement to remain true to themselves.
I wonder what it is that the people who criticize me for telling this story truly object to: is it that I have dared to tell the story? Or that the story turns out not to be the one they wanted to hear?
Long after Salinger sent me away, I continued to believe his standards and expectations were the best ones.
Many women my age have known the experience of giving up crucial parts of themselves to please the man they love.
The silence was part of the story I wanted to tell.
Those who rhapsodize about the ease and joy of childhood have perhaps forgotten what it's like to be 12 years old.
There is a theme that runs through my work, and that is: the toxic property of keeping secrets.
3 perspectives
2 perspectives
1 perspectives