The vagaries of when reserved books show up brought me a
second “son’s-memoir-of-mom” within a week.
Unlike Will Schwalbe’s accomplished mother, however, Richard Russo’s
mother, Jean, struggles throughout her long life. Russo, from a young age, is her prop. After her gambler husband left the family, they
moved into her parents’ duplex in Gloverville, NY, the blue-collar tannery town
where Russo grows up. Although Jean has
a decent job in at GE in nearby Schenectady, she doesn’t have a car and has
never learned to drive. Throughout the
book, a major theme is her pride in “always living independently,” when in
truth, she leans upon her parents, her son, and to a certain extent, “the
kindness of strangers,” to maintain this fiction. Russo doesn’t sugar-coat the emotional and
financial difficulties of being her main support, and the real hardships it
causes him and his wife and daughters until her death. His relationship with his mother, and the
dying town of Gloverville (whose occupants are also dying of the diseases
caused by the industry that was its economic engine), has clearly shaped his
life and are reflected in many of his successful novels. It was, for me, a difficult book to
read. Can you imagine this: your mother urges you to apply to college in
distant Arizona rather than the perfectly adequate nearby SUNY branch, and then
it becomes clear why – she’s coming with you!
It is her attempt to escape Gloverville and is, of course, a dismal and devastating
failure, nearly bringing him down with her.
His love for his mother and his
frustration with her constant demands for his attention are at war within him
throughout the book. Only after her
death is he able to recognize what diagnosable mental problems she must have
had and how this untreated illness lead to her rather sad life. 246 pp.
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