Raised in a nineteenth-century saltbox house in Wellfleet, Massachusetts, Cynthia Blakeley was both surrounded by generations of immediate and extended family and isolated by the mysteries locked inside her affectionate yet elusive mother and short-fused father. While she and her sisters and cousins roamed the Outer Cape—drinking in the dunes, swimming in kettle ponds, and dancing in Provincetown—Blakeley also turned to the inner world of her journals as she contended with her own secrets and memories.
Over-identifying with her unconventional and artistic mother, Blakeley felt certain that the key to understanding her mother’s drinking and distractions, her generosity and easy forgiveness, was the unexplained absence of two of Blakeley’s half-siblings and their connection to her mother’s unhappy first marriage. Blakeley kept her distance, however, from her disciplinarian father. Though he took his daughters sailing and clamming and beachcombing, he was the chill to their mother’s warmth, the maker, not the breaker, of rules. Slipping through these dynamics in that small house and evocative landscape, Blakeley eventually crossed the bridge and left home, only to return later in search of the family stories that would help her decode her present.
Blakeley’s captivating memoir moves fluidly through time, grappling with the question of who owns a memory or secret and how our narrative choices not only describe but also shape and change us. In this insightful and poignant account of tenacious year-rounders on Cape Cod, Blakeley contends that making sense of ourselves is a collaborative affair, one that begins with understanding those we came from.
This is one of the most beautifully written memoirs and books that I have recently read. I am of the idea that memoirs need even a more interesting shape and writing style than plot driven fiction. I enjoyed the insights into the arts scene, and the author’s citations and complementary notes read like the rest of the book, which is rare. Such a breeze!
I have a visceral reaction to anything which is even tangentially about Cape Cod. I grew up spending summers there staying with family friends who owned a house on the Cape. When I saw that The Innermost House by Cynthia Blakeley was about her childhood growing up in Wellfleet on the Cape, I knew I had to give it a read. I was left disappointed.
As with all memoirs I rate, a disclaimer is needed. My rating of the book has nothing to do with Blakeley's life experience. My rating is entirely based upon how well the author presents and explains those life experiences to the reader. Also, Blakeley does not use the setting of Cape Cod very often as part of her narrative. For the most part, her stories could happen at any beach town which has the ebb and flows of summer migration. This was personally disappointing, but I didn't ding the book for it because the story is what is important.
Blakeley has had an interesting life with many colorful characters around her. Some of these people are loving but with their own quirks. Others are malevolent and readers should be warned that a sexual assault is depicted rather graphically. There are many ways Blakeley can tell these stories for the readers to take away some sort of life lesson or realization. We all have our memories where maybe we had family members who were our favorite while a sibling hated them or our first crush in high school. The issue with this book is not the subject matter because there are many avenues for Blakeley to explore.
The problem comes down to execution and lack of clear purpose. Blakeley's chapters cover various topics and jump in time periods. For example, one chapter deals with her father and their relationship up until his death and the aftermath. Following chapters will then jump back to a time when her father was alive and then back again. While a memoir does not have to be linear, the reader needs to feel comfortable with how stories fall in the timeline. I was consistently forced to stop and think about how old the author was and who was alive, dead, off in Vietnam, or married. Characters will also be put into the narrative only to disappear without any resolution.
The lack of clear purpose is what truly ruined the book for me. Blakeley will often drone on with comments about dreams and memories. Blakeley has experience with dreams and psychoanalysis, but she does not provide this information in a way which convinces the reader that she is making a point steeped in sturdy science. These diatribes often break the flow of a truly interesting family story. Instead of insight to what we just read, it sounds like someone who is talking off the top of their head and never reaching an actual conclusion about what it all means. This was a major problem for me because Blakeley even discusses in the book that much of her research required speaking to her mother and grandmother who were seemingly re-traumatized by her questioning of their histories. Ultimately, I don't think Blakeley makes a strong enough point to the reader that this was all worth it.
(This book was provided as an advance copy by Netgalley and the University of Massachusetts Press.)
This was not what I expected from a memoir based in Cape Cod. It was much deeper than the sun, sand and fried clams that I expected. The author had a difficult childhood with challenging parents, homelife and at times, schooling. Not to mention one shocking incident that I won't mention due to it being a spoiler. I Googled the author and it appears her life has turned out well and she has been successful. One thing - please fix Newberry Street in Boston to Newbury. An easily checked error.
Absolutely wonderful! I can comfortably say this is the best memoir that I have read. It was beyond just a memoir, it also felt like an analysis of what memoir is.
Thank you to Goodreads and University of Massachusetts press for the #giveaway
Thought this memoir would focus on Cape Code but it was more about how people perceive events in shared lives differently than others and even differently in later years of their own life. Blakeley talks to many people to get a more complete version of events that she remembered sometimes confusing because of the changing timeline and overwritten, this was still an interesting exploration of her life.
Innermost House is a powerful work of self discovery. Cynthia Blakely rips off bandages to reveal the family story of struggle, pain, dysfunction, abuse, but also acceptance, love and humanity. The author traces the history behind the family’s generational trauma to discover the roots of her own childhood struggles. The book has a good start but like a train barreling down the tracks, it gains compelling momentum that leads to a heart warming and inspiring conclusion. Blakely has applied her own expertise regarding memory to help unravel the events of her life. While we may not have experienced the same chaotic life, we are there with her as she strives to make sense of her family and environment. To add clarity - I also grew up in Wellfleet about ten years earlier than Blakely and knew some of the people she mentions (despite the pseudonyms). I had a far different childhood but a number of my friends experienced similar difficulties. Many year round locals struggle to make ends meet in a seasonal economy and the rates of alcohol and substance abuse are much higher than the state average. Wellfleet is a beautiful town with lots of great people but the lack of affordable housing and well paying year round jobs force many locals into trying circumstances.
This is a lyrical and moving memoir that reflects time and place in a magical way. Set in Wellfleet, Massachusetts with a large extended family and close knit community, the author sorts out a childhood mix of remembered and forgotten neglect, trauma, close ties, and warm affection in varying degrees. As an adult, she searches for the missing pieces of her family’s history and looks closely and compassionately at three generations of women who had to make their own luck or cope with the lack thereof. She takes the reader along as she reconsiders her personal story by looking back, asking questions, seeking reconnection, and actively listening to the recollections of others. This brave exploration of a complicated family with both an open heart and an open mind results in a thrilling and meaningful narrative. Beautifully written and thoughtfully considered, it caused me to reflect more deeply on my own family’s chronicle. Highly recommended as a contemplative and satisfying read.
THE INNERMOST HOUSE is billed as a memoir, but it’s more like a PhD dissertation about memory or even a “how-to-write-a-memoir” manual, with attention paid to the act of constructing the book you're reading. Don’t go in expecting one cohesive narrative; rather, each chapter explores a different “theme” in the author’s life.
This is a penetrating, highly intelligent memoir. The author relates her family’s complicated story and simultaneously considers her own reliability and memory. It reminds me of Mary McCarthy’s memoir in terms of self-awareness and strong voice, and perhaps supersedes it.