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Library | Call Number | Status |
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Searching... R.H. Stafford Library (Woodbury) | 921 GORMAN | Searching... Unknown |
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Summary
Summary
"When a rare optic condition strikes Jacquelin Gorman, colors one by one vanish from her spectrum and her vision begins to falter. She quickly finds herself in a race against the encroaching darkness, frantically studying family photos, the faces of her daughter and husband, and the geography of her home, committing them to the realm of memory, where she will retreat when the world she has known dissolves into a hard steel wall of grayness." "Without her sight, Gorman seeks refuge in the safety of her bedroom, and plunges into the landscape of her family's past. In nightly Technicolor dreams she relives moments from her childhood that bring to life her brother, Robin - the oldest child and only son of this beautiful and blessed family, and long its repository of pain and misfortune." "In the late fifties and early sixties, on the fabled Eastern Shore of Maryland and Virginia, the Gormans and their four daughters were a picture-perfect high-society family: beautiful, affluent, and intelligent (Gorman's great-uncle was the poet Ogden Nash). But Robin, named for the startling clarity of his blue eyes, was often out of the picture. Diagnosed with autism as a toddler - one of the first such cases on record - he was committed to a hospital for the mentally ill." "Years later, during her siege of blindness, Gorman searches for deeper meaning in the bittersweet memories that present themselves like snapshots come to life. She finds innocence and courage in her brother's brief, tragic life, and a pure, unquestioning love that illuminates her darkness."--BOOK JACKET.Title Summary field provided by Blackwell North America, Inc. All Rights Reserved
Reviews (3)
Publisher's Weekly Review
This haunting book starts out as a report of 10 weeks in 1991 when the author, a niece of the late poet Ogden Nash, temporarily lost her eyesight from optic neuritis. It soon turns into seismically heartrending recollections of her family that begin, fittingly, with an earthquake. Gorman initially attributed her vision problems to witnessing the suffering of her young daughter, Kelsey, from chronic lung disease. During her blindness, Gorman, much to the dismay of her husband and two sisters, obsessed about a tragic event in her childhood: the committing of her gifted but autistic older brother, Robin, to a mental institution when he was 12. Despite the trauma of her blindness, there were compensations for Gorman: she enjoyed intense dreams in vibrant colors that stimulated warm memories of Robin and also reminded her of how the family avoided discussing his absence. Her sight restored, the author credits this period of darkness with illuminating her love for Robin and helping her come to terms with his tragic death at 31 when he was hit by a car. First serial to Good Housekeeping and Reader's Digest; BOMC selection. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Kirkus Review
A terrifying bout of blindness stirs up recollections of a dark family story in this moving memoir. In the spring of 1991 Gorman lost sight first in one eye and then in the other, victim of a rare optic-nerve disorder. In her last hours of seeing, she pored over old family photos, fixing faces in her memory and recalling especially her beloved older brother, Robin. Diagnosed as an autistic and considered beyond help, Robin was institutionalized in 1961 at age 12. The author's memories of that family crisis and of other events in Robin's short and tragic life are artfully woven into the story of her own blindness. The grandson of a noted ophthalmologist and great-nephew of the poet Ogden Nash, Robin spent 12 years in a mental institution and was working as a dishwasher when he was killed by a car at age 31. Cut off from her own world by blindness, Gorman came to understand her brother's awful alienation. ""In my blindness,"" she says, ""I found my brother again and I followed him in his childhood footsteps. I stood inside his shadow and occupied his darkness."" In the chapters recalling scenes from their childhood, Gorman skillfully adopts an ingenuous narrative voice, describing, with the naivetâ of the child she was then, Robin's anguish, her mother's sadness, her father's and grandfather's firmness, and everyone's silences. It is an affecting account, as is her story of her own mysterious blindness. Gradually her sight does return, though imperfectly. The story comes full circle when she finds among Robin's belongings a piece of amber glass, one that he used as a child to spot crabs underwater, and discovers that with his ""seeing glass,"" colors sharpen, shadows appear, and once again she can read. Two memorable stories in one. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Library Journal Review
Several years ago, Gorman temporarily lost her sight as the result of optic neuritis. In this memoir she writes of having to adjust to her suddenly darkened world. She consults the appropriate specialists as they try to give her a prognosis, all the while falling with nearly every step. With the sighted world closed to her, she turns inward, remembering her years growing up in a prominent Baltimore family, the niece of Ogden Nash and the granddaughter of a renowned ophthalmologist. The focus of her reminiscences, however, is on her autistic older brother, Robin, who was institutionalized at an early age. Gorman writes with conviction, realistically conveying the shock and terror of suddenly losing her sight, especially difficult for a writer and young mother of a four-year-old; she explores the implications of sight and blindness on both the literal and figurative levels. Her poignant recollections of Robin and her family illustrate the blindness many people, even relatives, can have toward the autistic. This is a powerful book that will appeal to general audiences.Nancy R. Ives, SUNY at Geneseo (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
