The Suicide Index

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Wickersham, Joan/ Wickersham, Joan 저자(글)

Mariner Books · 2009년 06월 23일

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Joan Wickersham is the author of the novel The Paper Anniversary. Her work has appeared in The Best American Short Stories. An excerpt from The Suicide Index earned her Ploughshares's Cohen Award for Best Short Story of 2007. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
"Wickersham [has a] gift for making her memories sing as though they were our own." -- Elle One winter morning in 1991, Joan Wickersham's father shot himself in the head.The father she loved would never have killed himself. His death made a mystery of his entire life. Who was he? Why did he do it? And what was the impact of his death on the people who loved him? Using an index--that most formal and orderly of structures--Wickersham explores this chaotic and incomprehensible reality. Every bit of family history, every encounter with friends, doctors, and other survivors, exposes another facet of elusive truth. Dark, funny, sad, and gripping, at once a philosophical and a deeply personal exploration, The Suicide Indexis, finally, a daughter's anguished, loving elegy to her father. "[A]n extraordinary, magical mystery tour of a book." -- Los Angeles Times "Honest, brave, incredibly moving, and completely unflinching in its honesty. It's one of those rare books that will haunt you for a long time after you finish it." --Nancy Pearl, Morning Edition,National Public Radio JOAN WICKERSHAM is the author of the novel The Paper Anniversary.Her work has appeared in The Best American Short Stories.An excerpt from The Suicide Indexearned her the 2007 PloughsharesCohen Award for Best Short Story. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
JOAN WICKERSHAM is the author of the novel The Paper Anniversary. Her work has appeared in the Best American Short Stories series. An excerpt from The Suicide Index earned her the 2007 Ploughshares Cohen Award for Best Short Story. She lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Suicide:act ofattempt to imaginein the airport, coming home from vacation, he stops at a kiosk and buys grapefruits, which he arranges to have sent to his daughters. They will stumble over the crates waiting on their porches, when they get home from his funeral.It's the last week of his life. Does he know that? At some point, yes. At the moment when his index finger closes on the trigger of the gun, he knows it with certainty. But before that? Even a moment before, when he sat down in the chair holding the gunwas he sure? Perhaps he's done this much before, once or many times: held the gun, loaded the gun. But then stopped himself: no. When does he know that this time he will not stop?What about the gun?Has it been an itch, a temptation, the hidden chocolates in the bureau drawer? Did he think about it daily, did it draw him, did he have to resist it?Perhaps the thought of it has been comforting: Well, remember, I can always dothat.Or maybe he didn't think about the gun and how it might be used. There was just that long deep misery. An occasional flicker (I want to stop everything), always instantly snuffed out (Too difficult, how would I do it, even the question exhausts me). And then one day the flicker caught fire, burned brightly for a moment, just long enough to see by (Oh, yes, the gun. The old gun on the closet shelf with the sweaters). He didn't do it that day. He put away the thought. He didn't even take the gun down, look at it, hold it in his hands. That would imply he was thinking of actually doing it, and he would never actually do such a thing.Some days the gun sings to him. Other days, more often, he doesn't hear it. Maybe, on those stronger days, he has considered getting rid of it. Take it to a gun shop, turn it in to the police. But then someone else would know he has a gun, and it's no one else's business. He hasn't wanted to deal with their questions: Where did you get it? How long have you had it? Besides, how longhashe had it? Twenty years? Twenty-five? And never fired it in all that time? So where's the danger? What's the harm in keeping it around, letting it sleep there among the sweaters? He doesn't even know where the bullets are, for God's sake. (But immediately, involuntarily, he does know: he knows exactly which corner of which drawer.)We have to watch him from the outside. He leaves no clues, his whole life is a clue. What is he thinking when he gets up that last morning, showers, and dresses for work? He puts on a blue-and-white striped cotton shirt, a pair of brown corduroys, heavy brown shoes. A tan cashmere sweater. He has joked to his older daughter that all the clothes he buys these days are the color of sawdust. Might as well be, he said, they end up covered in the stuff anyhow, in the machinery business. So he has shaved, patted on aftershave, and climbed into his dun-colored clothes. He's gone to his dresser and loaded his pockets: change, wallet, keys, handkerchief. Maybe he thinks he's going to work. Or maybe he knows, hopes, that in forty-five minutes he'll be dead. It's Friday morning. He's just doing what he does every morning, getting ready.He may be thinking about it on the walk down the long driveway to get the newspaper. The cold dry air gripping the sides of his head, the ice cracking under his feet as he tramps along this driveway he can no longer quite afford. It is a dirt road, unpaved; in this town, as his wife is always pointing out, dirt roads have more cachet than fancy landscaped driveways. A dirt road means you are private and acting to protect your privacy. Your house cannot be seen from the road. Your real friends, that delightful, sparkling, select bu
One winter morning in 1991, Joan Wickersham's father shot himself in the head.The father she loved would never have killed himself, and yet he had.His death made a mystery of his entire life. Who was he? Why did he do it? And what was the impact of his death on the people who loved him? Using an indexthat most formal and orderly of structuresWickersham explores this chaotic and incomprehensible reality. Every bit of family history, every encounter with friends, doctors, and other survivors, exposes another facet of elusive truth. Dark, funny, sad, and gripping, at once a philosophical and a deeply personal exploration,The Suicide Indexis, finally, a daughter's anguished, loving elegy to her father.
One winter morning in 1991, Joan Wickersham's father shot himself in the head.The father she loved would never have killed himself, and yet he had.His death made a mystery of his entire life. Who was he? Why did he do it? And what was the impact of his death on the people who loved him? Using an index--that most formal and orderly of structures--Wickersham explores this chaotic and incomprehensible reality. Every bit of family history, every encounter with friends, doctors, and other survivors, exposes another facet of elusive truth. Dark, funny, sad, and gripping, at once a philosophical and a deeply personal exploration, The Suicide Indexis, finally, a daughter's anguished, loving elegy to her father.
When you kill yourself, you kill every memory everyone has of you. You're saying "I'm gone and you can't even be sure who it is that's gone, because you never knew me." Sixteen years ago, Joan Wickersham's father shot himself in the head. The father she loved would never have killed himself, and yet he had. His death made a mystery of his entire life. Using an indexthat most formal and orderly of structuresWickersham explores this chaotic and incomprehensible reality. Every bit of family historymarriage, parents, business failuresand every encounter with friends, doctors, and other survivors exposes another facet of elusive truth. Dark, funny, sad, and gripping, at once a philosophical and deeply personal exploration, The Suicide Indexis, finally, a daughter's anguished, loving elegy to her father.
"A love story, a mystery, a quiet tragedy, a dark comedy, and a profoundly absorbing modern family saga. It will stay with me for a very long time."
Praise for THE SUICIDE INDEX "Wickersham meticulously examines her father's suicide from every angle.... But the amazing and beautiful result focuses more on Wickersham's deeply felt love and loyalty toward her father than his violent choice of suicide. [A] brave and honest account ." -- Ladies' Home Journal "[Wickersham] writes beautifully, not least of all in how she poses meaningful questions to which answers never change. [A] very moving memoir." -- Elle"In this harrowing, beautifully written memoir, Joan Wickersham tries to understand the forces that drove her father to take his own life."-- Abigail Thomas, author ofA Three Dog Life
Praise for THE SUICIDE INDEX "Wickersham meticulously examines her father's suicide from every angle.... But the amazing and beautiful result focuses more on Wickersham's deeply felt love and loyalty toward her father than his violent choice of suicide. [A] brave and honest account ." -- Ladies' Home Journal "[Wickersham] writes beautifully, not least of all in how she poses meaningful questions to which answers never change. [A] very moving memoir." -- Elle"In this harrowing, beautifully written memoir, Joan Wickersham tries to understand the forces that drove her father to take his own life."-- Abigail Thomas, author ofA Three Dog Life
PRAISE FORTHE SUICIDE INDEX Written in the form of an index, an acknowledgment of Wickersham's inability to frame her father's act in any conventional linear form, this memoir is written in a cool, economical and ultimately piercing style utterly devoid of easy pathos or cliche. Anyone prone to facile dismissal of the memoir as literary high art should be silenced by the perfection of Wickersham's prose and her ability to hold the facts and her feelings up to the light, turning them again and again to reveal yet another facet of grief, anger, love, pity and guilt.-- Laura Miller,Salon.com[A] remarkable memoir. . . she exposes the whole messy territory of inheritance, of heritage, of what our families leave us, the treacherous trail of genetics and psychology and unhappiness, the legacy of all those generations as they play out in ways that we can see and ways that we will never see across the patterns of our lives. . . true in a way that transcends mere recollection . . . (S)he arrives at an almost perfect balance, producing a survivor's story, a portrait of suicide from the outside, one that finds clarity in its inability to be clarified.-- David Ulin,Los Angeles TimesHonest, brave, incredibly moving, and completely unflinching in its honesty. It's one of those rare books that will haunt you for a long time after you finish it. . . . Wickersham's writing is gorgeous, restrained and lyrical at the same time, and there's not an extraneous word or ounce of fat in the book. In trying to comprehend what happened, Wickersham uses the format of an index, in an attempt to impose an order and shape on what appears to be a chaotic, perhaps random, act of her father's. . . . [An] amazing memoir.-- Nancy Pearl,KUOW / National Public RadioJoan Wickersham's deceptively simple organization of this volume packs a hard jab to the throat, and I found myself alternately holding my breath and looking away from the words on the page in stunned silence, Reading this book is a physical act of beauty, of pain and of frankness. The sections on writing and truth are some of the finest I've seen.- Kelly McMasters,NewsdayJoan Wickersham's deeply moving memoir seeks to comprehend the incomprehensible . . . What propels every intensely crafted page of this book is Wickersham's relentless drive to comprehend her father's suicide . . . Wickersham has journeyed into the dark underworld inside her father and herself, and has emerged with a powerful, gripping story.-- Chuck Leddy,Boston Globe[A] daughter's piercing and profoundly considered response to [her father's] death. She constructs her book like a series of index cards, with chapter headings that mimic those on outlines. It becomes a brilliant choice, allowing Wickersham to flip and sort through 15 years of what William Maxwell observed when he wrote, 'The suicide doesn't go alone, he takes everybody with him.' . . . Against the violent transgression of suicide, Wickersham has crafted a consummately subtle book. . . . In its discipline and art,The Suicide Indexhas the feel of a classic.-- Karen Long,Cleveland Plain DealerI readThe Suicide Indexwith a rapacity bordering on need, with tears in my chest and in my eyes. Occasionally I had to put it down and leave the room. More often, I devoured it. The book is . . . the measured, elegant, gripping work of a professional writer who has set her powers of observation to work on her own family her parents and grandparents, her uncle, her sister, her husband, her son and on herself.-- Laura Collins-Hughes,New York Sun[A]n extraordinary, magical mystery tour of a book.
PRAISE FOR THE SUICIDE INDEX Written in the form of an index, an acknowledgment of Wickersham's inability to frame her father's act in any conventional linear form, this memoir is written in a cool, economical and ultimately piercing style utterly devoid of easy pathos or cliche. Anyone prone to facile dismissal of the memoir as literary high art should be silenced by the perfection of Wickersham''s prose and her ability to hold the facts and her feelings up to the light, turning them again and again to reveal yet another facet of grief, anger, love, pity and guilt.-- Laura Miller, Salon.com[A] remarkable memoir. . . she exposes the whole messy territory of inheritance, of heritage, of what our families leave us, the treacherous trail of genetics and psychology and unhappiness, the legacy of all those generations as they play out in ways that we can see and ways that we will never see across the patterns of our lives. . . true in a way that transcends mere recollection . . . (S)he arrives at an almost perfect balance, producing a survivor''s story, a portrait of suicide from the outside, one that finds clarity in its inability to be clarified.-- David Ulin, Los Angeles TimesHonest, brave, incredibly moving, and completely unflinching in its honesty. It's one of those rare books that will haunt you for a long time after you finish it. . . . Wickersham''s writing is gorgeous, restrained and lyrical at the same time, and there''s not an extraneous word or ounce of fat in the book. In trying to comprehend what happened, Wickersham uses the format of an index, in an attempt to impose an order and shape on what appears to be a chaotic, perhaps random, act of her father''s. . . . [An] amazing memoir.-- Nancy Pearl, KUOW / National Public RadioJoan Wickersham's deceptively simple organization of this volume packs a hard jab to the throat, and I found myself alternately holding my breath and looking away from the words on the page in stunned silence, Reading this book is a physical act - of beauty, of pain and of frankness. The sections on writing and truth are some of the finest I've seen.- Kelly McMasters, NewsdayJoan Wickersham''s deeply moving memoir seeks to comprehend the incomprehensible . . . What propels every intensely crafted page of this book is Wickersham''s relentless drive to comprehend her father''s suicide . . . Wickersham has journeyed into the dark underworld inside her father and herself, and has emerged with a powerful, gripping story.-- Chuck Leddy, Boston Globe[A] daughter''s piercing and profoundly considered response to [her father's] death. She constructs her book like a series of index cards, with chapter headings that mimic those on outlines. It becomes a brilliant choice, allowing Wickersham to flip and sort through 15 years of what William Maxwell observed when he wrote, ?he suicide doesn''t go alone, he takes everybody with him.' . . . Against the violent transgression of suicide, Wickersham has crafted a consummately subtle book. . . . In its discipline and art, The Suicide Indexhas the feel of a classic.-- Karen Long, Cleveland Plain DealerI read The Suicide Indexwith a rapacity bordering on need, with tears in my chest and in my eyes. Occasionally I had to put it down and leave the room. More often, I devoured it. The book is . . . the measured, elegant, gripping work of a professional writer who has set her powers of observation to work on her own family -- her parents and grandparents, her uncle, her sister, her husband, her son -- and on herself.-- Laura Collins-Hughes, New York Sun[A]n extraordinary, magical mystery tour of a book.-- Heller McAlpin, Los Angeles TimesWhat makes the narrative so compelling is not only Wickersham's gift for making her memories sing as though they were our own, but also how she presents herself as a willful seeker, open to any and all incarnations of truth, able to admit how much she doesn't know and never did. . . . in this very moving memoir, Wickersham comes as close as she's able to getting it right.-- ElleIn spare prose, Wickersham has produced an artful and vivid memoir . . . capacious enough for both intimate detail and general information; cold data and lyric moments; for mystery and for consolation. The elementary facts - where, when, and how - are straightforward, even simple . . but her pursuit of "why" leads Wickersham and her reader into the "unanswerable questions and unresolvable paradoxes" that give her book classic qualities.-- Publishers WeeklyThis book is beautifully written and haunts the reader long after it's closed.-- Library Journal[A] sensitive and thorough memoir built around her father''s suicide and the mystery of why he did it. It is both haunting and comforting to see how she puts her father''s death "in order."-- Knoxvillle News SentinelShe writes beautifully. . . about the amount of sheer space a suicide takes in the lives of surviving family members, from the moment of death through the weeks, months and years afterward. . . . Bleak, strong and fiercely honest.-- Reeve Lindbergh, Washington PostIn this harrowing, beautifully written memoir, Joan Wickersham tries to understand the forces that drove her father to take his own life. Part detective story, part anguished examination of a family, The Suicide Indextraces the myriad repercussions suicide has not only on the future but also on the past. A powerful, important book.-- Abigail Thomas, author of A Three Dog Life The Suicide Indexis just astonishing. Having endured the suicide of a close family member, I opened this book with dread and longing: fearful of revisiting so much pain yet keenly wanting, as I always will, to understand why. No one can ever fully answer the question that suicide remains for those left behind, yet here, in Joan Wickersham's exquisitely straightforward story, I found surprising consolation. It is a love story, a mystery, a quiet tragedy, a dark comedy, and a profoundly absorbing modern family saga. It will stay with me for a very long time.-- Julia Glass, author of Three Junesand I See You Everywhere
"What makes the narrative so compelling is...Wickersham's gift for making her memories sing as though they were our own."
THE SUICIDE INDEX Suicide:act ofattempt to imagine, 14bare-bones account, 56immediate aftermath, 734anger about, 35attitude towardhis, 3642mine, 43belief that change of scene might unlock emotion concerning, 4447day afterbrother's appearance, 4853concern that he will be viewed differently now, 5455"little room" discussion with his business partner, 5658search warrant, 5960speculation relating to bulge, 6166deviation from chronological narrative of, 6771factors that may have had direct or indirect bearing onexpensive good time, 7287Suicide:factors that may have had direct or indirect bearing on(cont.)pots of money, 88102uneasy problem of blame, 103104finding some humor inashes, 105Valentine's Day, 106glimpses of his character relevant to, 107115information from his brother sparked by, 116123intrafamilial relationships reexamined in light ofMunich, 124138my grandmother, 139151items found in my husband's closet and, 152156life summarized in an attempt to illuminate, 157195numbness andBullwinkle, 196198chicken pox, 199200duration, 201food, 202203husband, 204206psychiatric response, 207211various reprieves, 212213opposing versions of, 214215other people's stories concerning, 216223other shoe and, 224228Suicide:(cont.)philosophical conundrums stemming fromfirst, 229second, 230possible ways to talk to a child aboutfamily tree, 231233full disclosure, 234235not yet, 236237rational approach, 238242weapons god, 243246psychiatry as an indirect means of addressing, 247255psychological impact of, 256273readings in the literature of, 274277romances of mother in years following, 278296"things" folder and, 297301thoughts on method of, 302304where I am now, 305316

작가정보

저자(글) Wickersham, Joan/ Wickersham, Joan

목차

• Suicide:
  act of
  attempt to imagine,	p. 1
  bare-bones account,	p. 5
  immediate aftermath,	p. 7
  anger about,	p. 35
  attitude toward
  his,	p. 36
  mine,	p. 43
  belief that change of scene might unlock emotion concerning,	p. 44
  day after
  brother's appearance,	p. 48
  concern that he will be viewed differently now,	p. 54
  "little room" discussion with his business partner,	p. 56
  search warrant,	p. 59
  speculation relating to bulge,	p. 61
  deviation from chronological narrative of,	p. 67
  factors that may have had direct or indirect bearing on expensive good time,	p. 72
  Suicide:
  factors that may have had direct or indirect bearing on (cont.)
  pots of money,	p. 88
  uneasy problem of blame,	p. 103
  finding some humor in
  ashes,	p. 105
  Valentine's Day,	p. 106
  glimpses of his character relevant to,	p. 107
  information from his brother sparked by,	p. 116
  intrafamilial relationships reexamined in light of
  Munich,	p. 124
  my grandmother,	p. 139
  items found in my husband's closet and,	p. 152
  life summarized in an attempt to illuminate,	p. 157
  numbness and
  Bullwinkle,	p. 196
  chicken pox,	p. 199
  duration,	p. 201
  food,	p. 202
  husband,	p. 204
  psychiatric response,	p. 207
  various reprieves,	p. 212
  opposing versions of,	p. 214
  other people's stories concerning,	p. 216
  other shoe and,	p. 224
  philosophical conundrums stemming from
  first,	p. 229
  second,	p. 230
  possible ways to talk to a child about
  family tree,	p. 231
  full disclosure,	p. 234
  not yet,	p. 236
  rational approach,	p. 238
  weapons god,	p. 243
  psychiatry as an indirect means of addressing,	p. 247
  psychological impact of,	p. 256
  readings in the literature of,	p. 274
  romances of mother in years following,	p. 278
  "things" folder and,	p. 297
  thoughts on method of,	p. 302
  where I am now,	p. 305
  Table of Contents provided by Ingram. All Rights Reserved.

기본정보

ISBN	9780156033800 ( 0156033801 )
발행(출시)일자	2009년 06월 23일
쪽수	336쪽
크기	132 * 201 * 18 mm / 295 g
총권수	1권
언어	영어