We Are Not Ourselves

Can I recommend a book?

You remember books, that antiquated media model that requires dedication in our fast-moving society that is usually populated by quick-read genre trash.

“We Are Not Ourselves” is not that. If it were a TV show, they’d call it a family drama. But that would imply it’s all about the interactions between personalities and that a lot of stuff happened, whereas in “We Are Not Ourselves” the only thing that happens is life, and that’s much more scary and complicated and unpredictable than any TV show.

You see you grow up as a child of immigrants and you have dreams. Well, not everyone, but Eileen does, she wants more. She doesn’t want to write an app and be in the WSJ, she wants her own house, a better life for her children, some comfort. Yes, in a world dominated by high achievers with outsized ambitions few focus on the rest of us, who are just trying to get along as we navigate this twisty turny adventure they call life.

Eileen is born in ’41, the child of Irish immigrants. You may not have parents from another country, but almost all of you are descendants of those who decided to come for a better life, or like Big Mike, who were pushed to, because there was no opportunity left in the homeland.

And despite hauling kegs for Schaefer, a legendary New York brewery, Mike is a big man in the neighborhood. That’s the way it used to be before social media. You hung out. We gravitated to those with charisma, who knew people, who gave advice, who could help out.

But Big Mike does have a drinking problem. And a gambling problem. Because no one’s all good or all bad, we live in light and in shade.

But Eileen’s parents are not the focus of “We Are Not Ourselves,” which is quite lengthy. If you buy the hardcover, don’t plan on traveling with it. No, this is the story of a pre-boomer, and her husband and progeny, of work and friends.

And there’s a big plot twist that is foreshadowed and believable which unfortunately is in every review and I’m not going to mention it here, but all I’ll say is if you believe life is all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows, this is not the book for you. Furthermore, your life must be very disappointing, because it’s all about the little victories, which most others never see, never mind acknowledge.

“The point wasn’t always to do what you want. The point was to do what you did and do it well. She had worked hard for years, and if she had nothing to show for it but her house and her son’s education, there was still the fact of its having happened, which no one could erase from the record of human lives, even if no one was keeping score.”

That’s the truth, no one is keeping score. You have a game in your head, punctuated by milestones, and if you’re lucky the rules don’t change and you win and smile, but no one knows but you.

And there’s a bunch more wisdom in this book, even though it’s not written to dazzle you, not so rewritten and packed with gems that it no longer resembles real life.

“he lacked that tolerance for superficial interaction every successful adulterer wielded.”

EUREKA, THAT’S IT!

Adultery is all about seduction, getting your rocks off, making sure you still have game. It’s got little to do with the other person and all to do with proving you’re a god and can have a marriage and all this too. Because relationships are more than friction, it’s the mind meld that counts.

“It was the kind of thing she imagined people did when they came to a point where the roads to the past and the future were equally muddy – retreat to the high ground of a major project.”

I’ve never seen this articulated ANYWHERE! When confused and not sure where to turn we search for and ultimately dig our teeth into something grand, something so big it can’t be finished in a day, but maybe in years, we do this not only to get ahead, but to get our minds off our pain.

“That was one difference between men and women. Men got along fine without revealing anything.”

This is why I’d much rather hang with women. They talk about their feelings, men talk about the game. Concepts versus facts. Women break up and reveal all to their friends, sift through the details and bond over their humanity. Men crack a beer, slap each other on the back and watch the game, in pain.

I’m not gonna tell you any more, because I don’t want to ruin the experience. This is what the highbrows don’t understand, first and foremost it’s a story, and the fun and the joy is in having it unfold unexpectedly.

And I don’t think most of you will buy this tome, because you don’t have time, life moves too fast and you’ve got to get somewhere. But as first time author Matthew Thomas, who took ten years to write “We Are Not Ourselves” while teaching high school, says in the interview at the end of the digital edition:

“I hope it might make some readers who live lives outside the margins of what the media considers ‘important’ feel recognized and perhaps less alone.”

Yes, you are the star of your own movie. It’s a role you cannot abdicate. And chances are, no one’s watching it other than yourself. And it’s thrilling and frightening and if you’re a woman you share it and if you’re a man you suck up everything but the victories and we all turn to art both to reflect back upon us and explain it to us. We want to identify, we want to feel connected.

And “We Are Not Ourselves” makes us so.

“But who knows? We can control only so much in life.”

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“We Are Not Ourselves”

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