Thoughts from a Queen-Sized Bed (review)

206Fourth Genre Thoughts from a Queen-Sized Bed by Mimi Schwartz University of Nebraska Press, 2002 169 pages, cloth, $22.00 If you have read a few dozen of the many memoirs written in the last ten years and have come to the conclusion that only people who have suffered great pain or achieved great gain can be the subject of an engaging memoir , think again. You have more reading to do and you might begin with Thoughtsfrom a Queen-sized Bed by Mimi Schwartz. This collection of 34 short personal essays contains no traumatized children or damaged adults, no vengeful mothers or vagrant fathers; no one is addicted, victimized, touched too soon or too much or not enough, and no one overcomes overwhelming obstacles to reach the top of anything. Mimi Schwartz offers a glimpse at the life promised in the Redbook, Family Circle, and Modern Bride magazines of the '50s and '60s. Here's the marriage that survived the eruption of women's lib without anyone going into the bin or on the bottle. Here's the husband and wife in their late '50s who stiU inspire each other sexually with just their passion and commitment —no trade edition of Dr. Ruth under the bed and no vials ofViagra on the bedside table. Ifyou are asking yourself: why should I read a book about a stable marriage and healthy children, then pass it by, go directly to the "Oprah" section of the bookstore. If you are addicted to Correctal or have enormous credit card debt, this is not a memoir that will inspire you to find the spirit within. However, if you want to prove to yourself that you don't need to read about some poor sucker who's worse off than you are in order to feel good about yourself, then get this book. Leaving Oprahization of book buying behind, read Schwartz's Thoughts to witness a writer's superb control ofher subject matter. Schwartz is a prudent observer of her life and highly skilled at rendering exactly what she wants the reader to see. Most of the chapters are two to four pages long, brief enough for the reader to take in the whole episode as you would a photograph. Schwartz keeps a tight grip on the focusing ring ofher prosaic camera. Each picture is arranged precisely in the middle of the frame, and each frame is expertly held in place by Schwartz's total obligation to her subject matter. Stephen Dunn describes it this way in his blurb for the book: "Rarely has middle class dailiness in all its vagaries been so weU rendered without agenda Book Reviews207 or cynicism." No bitterness, guflt, or acrimony contaminates Schwartz's realm, and it is this lack of suffering that begs the question: can a successful memoir be written about a life that is free oftragedy and triumph? It can if the writer gives the reader something to worry about or, more positively, something to care about. Schwartz's method protects her readers from exposure to serious trouble while simultaneously engaging them in meaningful circumstances. It's a neat trick. The book spans the last half of the last century and somehow Schwartz manages to omit almost aU aUusions to events outside the four waUs of her family life. No one reacts to news about the McCarthy hearings, A-bomb tests, race riots, missile bases in Cuba, a Six-DayWar in Israel, or toxic water in Love Canal. Kent State, Prague, Beijing, and even TranquiUty Base are never mentioned. Schwartz avoids aU major world events without making it appear to the insouciant reader that anything of consequence has been left out. Her attention is on everyday moments and things—the bits and pieces that teU us so much about ourselves: old clothes we can't bear to throw out, a hat that makes us feel empowered, the front door in the house where we grew up, a misplaced road map. Schwartz-world is replete with the quotidian . With aU our attention on this stuff oflife, it doesn't feel as though anything is missing. At least not for a whüe. In this age of "show me...