Face, by Justine Bateman (Akashic Books, 272 pages)
In 2018 former Family Ties star Justine Bateman had a tantrum in the form of a book. That book was Fame, a 208-page rant against stardom that was hilariously oblivious to the fact that Bateman’s fame gave her the platform to spew expletives and call them literature.
Fittingly, she was enabled by having a publisher whose collection includes Go the F*** to Sleep, a parody children’s book, and which launched with a novel called The F***-Up. Expletives may not be required by this publisher, but they are warmly received.
The children’s book was genuinely funny. Fame was poorly written and angry, although it enjoyed warm reviews from a few actors who have enjoyed some success as writers, most notably Michael J. Fox and David Duchovny.
Now Bateman is back, enjoying success that does not stem from the quality of her writing, which can be found in any honors 11th-grade English class, but from her choice of topic: the savagery inflicted on the aging female face, both by its owner and by society. It’s a topic that Bateman addressed in Fame, when she wrote of her discovery that people on the internet were making cruel comments about her looks. She was 43, and people were saying she had not aged well. That she looked like a sea hag or a meth addict. Like someone who was — gasp — 55.
Bateman now is 55. And to her credit, she admitted in Fame that this was the first time she had ever been criticized for her looks. “I’ve always been pretty,” she wrote. This explains her initial bewilderment, later shame and eventual rage over not being considered one of the beautiful ones anymore. It’s a progression that is experienced by many women, whether they’ve ever been famous or not, and one that is accelerating in the Zoom age, since even women who have not “always been pretty” are being thrust into video. Plus, they are told that they can correct any imperfections, as long as they have plenty of disposable income and no qualms about injecting paralyzing toxins into the face.
Bateman wants none of that. She writes that she has always admired the aging face, even the dark circles, slack skin and crow’s feet. “To me, these facial markings were the hallmarks of complex and exotic women, women with confidence and attitude and style, women who had no use for whatever you might think of them,” she writes. She says that when she was younger, she looked forward to becoming this sort of distinguished, stylish older woman. So she was shocked when, after confronting criticism of her looks, she slumped into a period of feeling ashamed, and she says she recognizes this in other women she encounters.
“Averting the eyes when looked at, holding the mouth vin a defeated angle, and even presenting a resigned posture appeared to be common” in women, she writes. “… I was disturbed that not only had I bought into other people’s critical idea of my appearance, but also that many women around me seemed to have done the same thing.” She came to be interested in two questions: Why does society think older women’s faces need to be “fixed” and what does it think that “fixing” them will accomplish?
To explore these questions, Bateman decided to interview a variety of women about their experiences regarding their appearance and how people respond to it, and to present their stories, one per chapter. It was a great idea, if only someone else had written the book.
Bateman may well be a great thinker, a visionary, a champion of women, but her prose plods like a pair of exhausted mules. There is, upon occasion, a sentence or paragraph or two that stands out and makes you want to reconsider, but then the prose picks up a knife and starts torturing you again. Consider this opening to a chapter:
“‘Ha ha ha, ha ha ha!!!’
Their laughter splashed through the jetway as Jenny and her friends stepped off the plane into the long white tunnel to the gate. Like a basket of freshly cut flowers, still warm from the garden; like a barely unwrapped candy, glassy and colorful; like new cars, with just enough mileage on them to have gotten them to the dealership, these three women walked.”
These are the words of someone who so wants to be taken seriously as a writer that they forget the reader. These are the words of someone who has never read Strunk and White.
Using unnecessarily elaborate construction, Bateman shares vignettes from 45 women, some of whom have interesting stories to tell, some not. Among them are Nina, the 24-year-old hairdresser who, while traveling in France, was entranced by the style of confident, older woman who gave her an image of aging to which she could aspire; Hannah, the 51-year-old dental assistant whose enjoyment of a party died when someone said to her, “you were so beautiful then”; and Talia, the 46-year-old musical act booker who was getting attention from a man at a ball game until his friend said, “Dude, she’s like your mother or your grandmother.”
These are stories with which many older women can empathize, and which many young women fear. In fact, Bateman is equally concerned about young women with smooth faces and the “special terror” that they feel about the oncoming train. She wants women to stop caring about being awarded the title of “pretty girl” by society, but to claim its reward — “the confidence, the fearlessness that everything will go my way, eventually.” It is, she writes, a confidence that others notice, but is self-cultivated.
It’s a worthy idea, the sort of wisdom that might be handed out by a monk on a mountaintop. Unfortunately, for the reader, it’s a painful trek to get to the top of this hill. D
BOOK NOTES
With Mother’s Day upon us, it’s time for reflecting on the importance of moms, not just as Hallmark describes them, but also in ways that are more honest.
For everyone who has a Hallmark mom, there is someone whose relationship with their mother is more, well, complicated.
The most biting book in the complicated-mom genre has to be Mommy Dearest, the 1978 dissection of Joan Crawford by her adopted daughter Christina. The memoir was published a year after the actress’s death, which gave her no chance to tell her side of the story. This may help to explain why there are relatively few honest books about difficult relationships with mothers — to publish one while the mother is still alive seems cruel; when she’s dead, unfair.
For my money, the best fiction book about troubled mom relationships was Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells, published in 1978 (HarperCollins, 356 pages). Like Mommy Dearest, it involved alcoholism and abuse, while also presenting a sympathetic portrait of the mother.
The nonfiction offerings are sparse, but here are two that look promising:
Mothers: An Essay on Love and Cruelty by Jacqueline Rose (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 256 pages, also in paperback) is a reflection on why mothers are seen as both saints and villains.
Discovering the Inner Mother, by Bethany Webster (William Morrow, 304 pages) promises to be a guide “healing the mother wound and finding your personal power.”
For a more conventional look at motherhood through the lens of science, check out Mom Genes (Gallery, 336 pages), a new book by Abigail Tucker, who is the wife of New York Times columnist Ross Douthat. Tucker examines the evolutionary development of the maternal instinct and how “maternal aggression makes females the world’s most formidable creatures.”
And for a feel-good mother-daughter story, there’s My Mother’s Daughter, a Memoir of Struggle and Triumph by Perdita Felicien (Doubleday Canada, 320 pages). Felicien is a track-and-field star turned broadcaster who writes about her hardscrabble upbringing with a mother who was determined to make good for her children.
Books
Author events
• SUZANNE KOVEN Author presents Letter to a Young Female Physician, in conversation with author Andrew Solomon. Hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth. Tues., May 18, 7 p.m. Virtual. Tickets cost $5. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.
• KEVIN KWAN Author presents Sex and Vanity. Hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth. Thurs., May 27, 7 p.m. Virtual. Tickets cost $5. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.
• ANNETTE GORDON-REED Author presents On Juneteenth. Hosted by The Music Hall in Portsmouth. Thurs., June 3, 7 p.m. Virtual. Tickets cost $5. Visit themusichall.org or call 436-2400.
Call for submissions
• NH LITERARY AWARDS CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS The New Hampshire Writers’ Project seeks submissions for its Biennial New Hampshire Literary Awards, which recognize published works written about New Hampshire and works written by New Hampshire natives or residents. Books must have been published between Jan. 1, 2019 and Dec. 31, 2020 and may be nominated in fiction, nonfiction, poetry, children’s picture books, middle grade/young adult books. All entries will be read and evaluated by a panel of judges assembled by the NHWP. Submission deadline is Mon., June 21, 5 p.m. Visit nhwritersproject.org/new-hampshire-literary-awards.
Book Clubs
• BOOKERY Online. Monthly. Third Thursday, 6 p.m. Bookstore based in Manchester. Visit bookerymht.com/online-book-club or call 836-6600.
• GIBSON’S BOOKSTORE Online, via Zoom. Monthly. First Monday, 5:30 p.m. Bookstore based in Concord. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com/gibsons-book-club-2020-2021 or call 224-0562.
• TO SHARE BREWING CO. 720 Union St., Manchester. Monthly. Second Thursday, 6 p.m. RSVP required. Visit tosharebrewing.com or call 836-6947.
• GOFFSTOWN PUBLIC LIBRARY 2 High St., Goffstown. Monthly. Third Wednesday, 1:30 p.m. Call 497-2102, email elizabethw@goffstownlibrary.com or visit goffstownlibrary.com
• BELKNAP MILL Online. Monthly. Last Wednesday, 6 p.m. Based in Laconia. Email bookclub@belknapmill.org.
• NASHUA PUBLIC LIBRARY Online. Monthly. Second Friday, 3 p.m. Call 589-4611, email information@nashualibrary.org or visit nashualibrary.org.
Language
• FRENCH LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE CLASSES
Offered remotely by the Franco-American Centre. Six-week session with classes held Thursdays from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m. $225. Visit facnh.com/education or call 623-1093.
Poetry
• DOWN CELLAR POETRY SALON Poetry event series presented by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire. Monthly. First Sunday. Visit poetrysocietynh.wordpress.com.
Featured photo: Face
