3 of 3 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Throwing all caution to the wind, April 12, 2010
This review is from: Free Fall: A Late-in-Life Love Affair (Paperback)
An odyssey of emotional extremes, big leaps, lots of great sex and some hard-won wisdom, Francoeur's memoir of one intense year is an intimate and ultimately transporting tour-de-force.
She begins at the crux of things, with a weekend that epitomizes her life at 58 and the change that's coming. She and Eli, her bipolar mate of 18 years, are headed to New York to visit his dysfunctional family. Francoeur has started to board the plane when she hears Eli "who wanted to see his mother like he wanted to have a colonoscopy," yelling and cursing and turns to find him surrounded by a crowd of nervous young National Guardsmen pointing guns and demanding papers he can't find.
At the end of the stressful weekend they get lost in Chinatown where they're meeting Eli's old friend Jim for dinner. After Jim guides them to him by cell phone, Francoeur relinquishes responsibility. "The burden of Eli lifted, I feel like a kid."
During dinner, chatting, she wants to tell Jim she's asked Eli to move out. Instead she says: " `I'm in the middle of a midlife crisis, I guess.'
"I'm shocked by his response. He laughs. His laugh is loud, manly and, always, I think, somewhat lewd. `Aren't you a little old for that?' "
He's crossed a line, and so, she's thrilled and frightened to discover, has she. Six weeks later she and Jim are in bed together in his Chelsea apartment. Not that it was as simple as that, not at all.
A journalist, editor (she was, once upon a time, an editor at this very newspaper), and former creative director at two Boston area museums, Francoeur is a striver, a perfectionist, and used to being in charge. Her lovers have always been cerebral. Eli is a brilliant, talented poet, but unable to keep a job. A single mother, almost six feet tall, she thinks of herself, and always has, as the strong, responsible one.
But Jim is six-foot-five, broad shouldered, physical. He works with his hands and takes his manhood seriously. Drawn to his dominance, "desperate for macho," "I, in defiance of everything that came before, run roughshod over everything I've carefully arranged in my life."
But surrender, as it happens, is not enough. Their first night comes perilously close to disaster. At 58 and 67, they both have a lot of ties to others, a lot of responsibilities. Francoeur approaches this momentous occasion obliquely, exploring the important minutiae of what came before and what developed after, letting us get to know her, admitting us into her life before she takes us along on that December night when she arrives in New York and things begin to go haywire. She helps us to wonder what we would have done in her shoes.
She has been consciously separating from Eli for months. Every day for six months she has reminded him that he has agreed to move out. "It is impossible to overstate the desperation with which I crave serenity. Bipolar disease is a serious form of mental illness. We manage it, but it brutalizes both of us."
The love affair - which she keeps secret - strengthens her resolve, of course, but just before Christmas, when it's still as new as new can be, Eli takes himself to the hospital with a stomachache. Francoeur is certain his illness is due to overindulgence, but the medical staff won't listen to her - not about that and not about the dangers of messing with his medications.
Events quickly spiral out of everyone's control. What follows is a nightmarish rollercoaster as Eli endures repeated hospitalizations, mental breakdowns and suicidal impulses and Francoeur struggles to cope without deserting him.
"A toothache sends Eli over the edge. I once broke into tears in his dentist's office after spending a night with Eli in tooth pain. He's horrendous. Unbearable. Abusive. A dental assistant in the office took me aside and told me her husband was bipolar. When they're in pain, everything goes haywire, she said. You'd better hope he never gets back pain. Of course Eli did get back pain and I lived at a B&B for three months."
As the downward spiral picks up speed, the shape of things to come begins to form in her mind. "I must somehow try to save Eli and save myself. The difference now is these are mutually exclusive efforts."
Though she doesn't rant, her indictment of the medical profession - particularly, but not only as pertains to mental illness - is scathing. Breathtaking.
Between the almost surreal miseries of the medical debacle, Francoeur finds respite and refuge in the heady joy of Jim, their relationship deepening under the strain. The contrast between these emotional poles is heightened by Francoeur's straightforward delivery, leavened by lust, compassion, determination and, especially, humor.
"Lust at fifty-eight isn't much different from lust at seventeen. That's unfortunate, because a giddy fifty-eight-year-old isn't pretty, especially to her twentysomething assistant, who visibly cringes whenever Jim calls my work phone and I giggle at his jokes. I know I should get a grip, but it's hard. I'm utterly happy. Impossibly smitten."
In intimate, erotic, spare and muscular prose, Francoeur draws us into her world.
There's a frisson of wonder when we realize she means to have it all - the love of a lifetime and an unspoiled past. She will nurture and love Eli even as she plunges into a life with Jim where all the limits are untested. It's a giddy prospect - can she succeed? Can anyone? Read it and see.
An affirmation of love, sex and the notion that no one is too old for new adventures, even in the midst of mind-bending stress, Francoeur's memoir is scary, harrowing, passionate and fun.
An
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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
An Exhilarating Free Fall, April 10, 2010
This review is from: Free Fall: A Late-in-Life Love Affair (Paperback)
Depending on the individual reader, Free Fall: A Late-in-life Love Affair, by Rae Padilla Francoeur, may well be greater than the sum of its diverse parts. Although the sensual cover of the book and the additional frontal descriptor, "an erotic memoir," establish a certain tone and set of expectations for the reader, this open and honest oeuvre functions on multiple levels and holds a wide variety of appeals. So focusing on "the affair" and "the erotic" alone belies the full range and impact of this bold adventure, this complete sharing of a post-mid-life transition for one single mother, feminist, journalist, editor, and director of creative services at a prestigious museum.
What is remarkable is that Francoeur never allows herself to be derailed for fear of highly arched eyebrows, puritanical criticism, or even sheer voyeurism. She is an utterly adroit raconteur whose amazing story--in all its sadness, joy, and sheer physicality--just happens to be true. Whether she is detailing the fine qualities or tremendous struggles of her bipolar poet-mate of eighteen years or wading through the angst-ridden maze of mental health bureaucracy, she is both generous and unsparing. Similarly, there are no holes barred when she recounts the heady, sweaty exhilarations of her new relationship with a totally different kind of lover, albeit a longtime friend of her former mate.
Perhaps most notable is the quality of the writing itself. Early on the process of the writing, the author's own grown daughter read the first two chapters and said, "Mom, this was not easy to read. But I love your writing." That is indeed a telling remark.
For the truth is, this 288-page story is captivating and impossible to put down. Even as the reader fears for the protagonist-author, he or she hangs on her every word. The tension and suspense implicit in the telling of this more-than-candid tale propel the reader forward, initiating a kind of second-layer leap of faith or simultaneous free fall. Only readers who are willing to suspend their innermost objections, who are capable of listening without judgment, who are intrigued by the intersection of compassion and desire, will take that giant leap of faith required in any genuine free fall.
Traveling between her beloved seaside home in beautiful Rockport, MA and the small, artsy Chelsea apartment of her New York man, Francoeur traverses much territory, but the emotional depth of the back-and-forth journey exceeds the linear miles. In her acknowledgements at the end of the book, she admits, "Free Fall has asked a lot of my friends and loved ones. It is deeply personal and takes up subject matter not commonly broached among friends." Therein lie its power and its reach, its abiding tenderness and its unleashed passion. Intrepid readers--or anyone who has ever contemplated a radical personal and professional change in later life--might well embrace this free fall, while still hanging on for dearest life.
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