The Mighty Queens of Freeville by Amy Dickinson
Hyperion (c) 2009 225 pages
The Mighty Queens of Freeville is a touching book about a single mom raising a single daughter, with help from her matron-laden family, which apparently accounts for about a third of the gene pool in tiny Freeville, NY.
The "Ask Amy" syndicated advice columnist and NPR contributor skates on trite territory; we've read about mother-daughter relationships, the preschool to pre-college days, many times.
Dickinson's
Queens succeeds because it's a good balance of self-effacing irreverence and raw self-reporting. The book also succeeds because it speaks to all mothers (of daughters) rather than specifically to single mothers.
I don't think mothers of boys will relate, however, and certainly,
Queens speaks most directly to mothers who have roots in a small town or two. (City chicks may not appreciate the significance of Toads diner, the church barbecue pit, or having encyclopedic knowledge of one's neighbors.)
While I enjoyed Dickinson's light humor and ability to avoid convenient cliches, what I most appreciate is that she steered clear of any man-hating digressions. One can be wronged by a man without blaming the whole gender, but far too many authors bang on the all-girl-band drum.
The Mighty Queens of Freeville is a welcome addition to the shelves full of book-length personal essays on parenting. It could, I think, also serve as something as a liaison between the various factions still (!) fighting the Mommy Wars, by not only illustrating how moms can work together, but how they can work
and raise children, which is also work.
Early on, Dickinson explains that divorce "runs through my clan like an aggressive chromosone," but claims she was never exposed to "family ugliness of any sort." [p14] From that perspective,
Queens offers some insight into the lives of little girls who grow up knowing little of their fathers. How mom handles dad's absentee status is paramount, of course, and Dickinson provides a rather good example of how to handle life without dad without excessive angst, and how to (possibly) avoid the need for counseling in later life.
My father had limited interest in his children, so there was no question of custody. My mother never pursued him for any sort of financial support - and he didn't offer it. She simply prevailed. Prevailing is underrated. People have the idea that unless they win, they lose. But sometimes surviving is enough. My mother knew this, and I learned it by watching her. [p15]
As an adult, Dickinson acknowledges she maintains a romantic vision of her father, and yet she is clear-eyed about his shortcomings.
My father doesn't see things as metaphors for other things, but I do. As I drove back home to Freeville, I tried not to think about the jobs, the wives, the children he left and the grandchildren he would never know, but about the bees and the honey they make. The honey stands for the sweetness of life, while the bee brings the sting. My father, the self-aggrandizing bear killer, was both the bee and the honey to me. [p195]
