Who is I?

I think that I can say with confidence that Driving With Dead People by Monica Holloway was one of my favorite memoirs that I have ever read. I think this is because of not only the intense subject matter and horrifying family dynamics, but because our narrator was so likeable and was such a strong person, with an amazing aptitude for survival throughout it all. The tone of the writing was not judgmental, not asking for pity, and not even necessarily speaking negatively about anyone – she let the story tell itself and the characters’ actions/dialogue speak for themselves and do all the work. After all the neglect, obscene selfishness and lack of care and concern for her children that the mother showed, adult Monica finally posed a simple question: would mom and I’s relationship survive this? She’s frustrated and sad and angry, but she’s still very calm and collected and rational. She is the strong one – like she says on page 314 after she finally decides to cut her ties with her mother: “I am strong because I have to be. I am the cavalry.” It’s Monica who is there for JoAnn while she is in the hospital and suicidal, Monica who after JoAnn gets out drives to DC every weekend, Monica who tries to mend the relationship with their dad, Monica who is holding Granda when she dies. She is the one who first believes JoAnn and tries to remember and put the pieces together. There really are only a few moments where she looses her cool and blows up at people. On page 146, she tells us: “With mom jumping ship, I signed up for every extracurricular I could find.” That says a lot about her. She’s in high school, left to live in a house alone after an extremely traumatic life thus far, and out of all of the things she could do to distract herself and take away the pain and loneliness (like get into partying, become suicidal, get mixed up with the wrong crowd), she decides to sign up for activities through her school and makes friends.

Another example: On page 245, her mom tells her she’ll never forgive her for not flying out to attend her party after she graduates with her PhD. Monica says: “I’ll never forgive her for missing years of our lives. We were hardly even. So why did I still feel guilty? Why did I send her money from my school loan to fly out to see us as a graduation gift? I needed that money to live on.” I wrote in the margins next to this “because you’re a good person.”

After having the discussion about how to show deeper insight into characters and their personalities that we had before Frida, I was really paying attention to how Monica Holloway achieved that. I marked every place where we get more insight into each character, whether it was through dialogue, action, or the way that they are viewed by people other than Monica. It’s interesting to track the two parents progressions – we start off with mom being caretaker and dad being a monster, and gradually mom becomes distant, selfish, and neglectful and we find out extremely disturbing things about her, like how she used to put Vaseline on the girls every night and tell them not to wear panties to bed; over time dad and Monica’s relationship strengthens and he starts to lend her money or give it to her as gifts, and talk on the phone and cook dinner for her. We begin to almost forget how much of a monster dad was until JoAnn’s repressed memories start to emerge.
One thing that I noticed right away was the “Note to Reader” that Holloway puts right away in the book, before chapter one and before the dedication. It says:

“This book represents the story of my journey from childhood to adulthood. All incidents are portrayed to the best of my recollection, although the names of schools and people (with the exception of my first name) have been changed, as have some identifying details and place names. Some individuals are composites.”

I have a few reactions to this. The first is that she is protecting herself from the whole “can a memoir really be nonfiction; what happens if someone makes up scenes or if their memory doesn’t serve them correctly or if they composite characters?” debate. When we discussed Fierce Attachments, I remember a lot of people were upset that it came out later in an interview that she simply made up an entire scene. I think by being honest and telling the reader that this is how you remember the events to the best of your ability, and admitting to changing identifying details like Monica Holloway does, it is somehow acceptable (I guess because she doesn’t lie about it?) to make these choices when writing.
I’m also a little unsure of how I feel about changing the names of people and places. I don’t know if she made this choice to protect those individuals or herself (aka if she was more comfortable publishing this practically anonymously). I’ve had professors tell me before that if I change people’s names and locations and a few minor description details like that, then I could pass off nonfiction for fiction (assuming I’m not comfortable publishing something as nonfiction). I don’t think that I would do it, though. You have a right to tell your story, from your own point of view. I think it is incredibly brave to write a memoir about something this personal and traumatizing, and somehow changing the names makes it feel less brave to me. Maybe part of this stems from my rooting for Monica and thinking “Yes! I’m so glad you wrote this, now the whole world will know what assholes your parents are! I bet they’re mortified and I wish I could see their reactions while reading it!” It frustrates me that by changing their names and descriptions she is protecting them. I want her to have sent a copy of this memoir to each family member, and to the Kilners, and every person in that damn town that thought her father was such a great, funny, upstanding guy. I want her parents to be humiliated and their lives ruined like they ruined their children’s. But, on the other hand, I also understand that when you write a memoir like this, you are writing it for you. To get the story out so that it doesn’t have to be inside of you anymore. I’ve been working on a memoir about a trauma that happened to me when I was younger and the effects it had on my life, and it has been incredibly cathartic; each scene I write is one that I can finally let go of. And, maybe when I do finally get it published, if I tell people’s real names and all of the real places, I’ll ruin many of the innocent who were involved. Maybe Monica was protecting JoAnn, who didn’t want anyone to know she’d come that close to the end. Maybe she’s protecting her husband and child. And I do understand that aspect of it – I have a huge family and a lot of people to protect as well. But I don’t want people to think I’m hiding behind fiction because I myself am too scared to tell my truth. I just hope that Monica’s family members did read this.
Another thing that I wanted to touch on that I really loved was the structure that Holloway used from page 278-285. She jumps back and forth between her living her normal routine at the same time that she tells what JoAnn is doing in italics. This was really, really powerful. The cutting up of JoAnn’s scenes really raised the tension to a whole new level. Especially when Holloway throws in lines like: “But now a timeline was established.” and “One more step.” (both on page 282). The two pages that she dedicates wholly to JoAnn, page 284 and 285, were both beautifully written and heart wrenching.
Another craft choice that I really appreciated throughout this incredibly intense and devastating memoir, was the use of humor and Monica’s dialogue which was often really funny and witty.

On page 248, Monica is daydreaming about her wedding with Daniel. Then she says: “The next thing I know, my veil catches on fire, I fall into the fireplace, and that’s when I order another glass of wine.”

On page 244: “Becky moved out of Ohio and into our place with her black-and-white cat, who shit in my bathtub, and, I swear, smiled at me afterward. Becky needed to get on her feet and her cat needed a cork up his ass.”


-Kris