Customer Reviews

A Report from Winter

5 star:		(14)
4 star:		(7)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

When I finished Wayne Courtois' very well-written A REPORT FROM WINTER-- a beautiful title with at least two meanings--his memoir about returning to Portland, Maine, after an absence of ten years, to the beside of his dying mother Jennie, I was astonished at his brutal honesty and wondered if his brother Bruce and his Aunt Louise will read it for he takes no prisoners. If this were fiction, he could always say these characters were composites; but he doesn't have that defense here. Mr. Courtois describes his brother Bruce-- since both men are gay, it must have had something to do with the long cold Maine winters-- as a "fifty-year-old man trying to look thirty. As they say in show business, it was time to retire the act." Even Aunt Louise, portrayed as a great complainer, says that Bruce "doesn't want anything." I was strangely moved, however, when she lied to the funeral home director and gave her sister Jennie a high school diploma when she only finished the sixth grade.

Mr. Courtois holds the mirror up to himself as well, recalling his basically miserable childhood, pretty much because of his mother's hatred of him so that he grew up filled with self-loathing to the point that he attempted suicide in his twenties. (He is forty-three when he mother dies.) On the other hand, it is difficult to completely despise his mother since her father, wearing steel-toed shoes, once kicked her, when she was just a young girl, up a flight of stairs, one step at a time.

The good news is that Mr. Courtois miraculously turned out to be a decent and apparently normal person in spite of his childhood-- although we, according to Freud, never completely outgrow our parents-- and has been in an enviable, relationship of nine years with his partner Ralph when his mother dies. "We are one." The writer contrasts time after time his warm, loving relationship with Ralph with his cold, dysfunctional family in Maine.

The parallels between this writer's experience and mine are eerie. I too a couple of Januarys ago in a nursing home sat at the bedside of my comatose, dying mother. She also had been uncomfortable discussing my sexual orientation although she, unlike Mr. Courtois' mother, loved me madly every day of my life and always told me so. The guilt of not doing enough and not visiting your mother often sounded all too familiar. There was also an attendant in the nursing home who had all the kindness that the nurse April showed to Courtois in his time of great need. His description of the visit to his mother's home after she died and his going through her personal effects-- he finds that she has kept every piece of paper that she ever got her hands on-- almost made my eyes burn. Finally I have spent enough time around Portland to understand what a Maine winter feels like that Mr. Courtois decribes in such bone-chilling detail.

Two scenes stand out for me in this well-crafted memoir that is so lacking in self-pity and that goes straight to the heart. Mr. Courtois recalls delicously what both his mother and aunt always really meant when asked if they had a preference for a restaurant. They always responded that they didn't care; but just as soon as they were seated in the restaurant that he had chosen, they of course started complaining about everything: the food, the service, the draft in the room, their seats (too close to the kitchen) the dirty silverware, etc. (And I had thought that this was uniquely a Southern character trait.)

The second scene is Courtois' telling of his first date with Ralph, whose fine manners make him sexier than a centerfold. The uncertainty, the testing of the water by two men who are real people, not particularly tall with a few extra inches each around their waists, remind us that the world is full of gay people who are not lantern-jawed, tall and with bulging muscles-- a spendid dose of reality.

This really first class memoir, so honest and so rich in detail, reminded me of my favorite gay memoir ever, the Australian writer Timothy Conigrave's poignant HOLDING THE MAN, no small compliment.

In this honest and deeply affecting memoir, Wayne Cortois, age 43, returns to Maine to visit his dying mother in a nursing home in the midst of a brutal winter after a ten-year hiatus from his family. The title of the memoir is an apt metaphor for this family's frozen emotional condition. Cortois' mother was an angry, bitter woman who constantly criticized everybody, including her son. She was pretty much out of it by the time he arrived and probably never realized he was there. Still, there was a good bit of grief on the part of the son when she dies, more for what wasn't than what was. He avoided his family for ten years, but eventually he had to have that appointment with the loss of his mother and all that was missing in his family's life. Whether his story is several notches up or down from your own family dysfunction, this portrayal of what happens when you go home again, and may not really want to, is haunting.

There's a freedom to reviewing a memoir that one seldom gets when reviewing fiction. On one hand, both narrative fiction and memoir can be held to the same standard when it comes to fluidity of prose, voice and style. On the other hand, one can't apply the same standard when it comes to character arcs or "plot," because in memoir, the author doesn't have the luxury of instructing the characters to grow and change, to do his bidding. These are real people being depicted here; not fictional constructs, and as we all know, real life is seldom as neat and tidy as the fictional world. Some people don't grow and change. Some moments aren't satisfying, all wrapped up in a little bow or a happily-ever-after, and rose colored glasses don't always work. So how does one go about reviewing a memoir?

For me, I have to look at it from two perspectives: does the author have a narrative style that draws the reader in, wraps him or her up in the lives he/she is spying in on, and does the writer strike emotional resonance with the reader, a universality in which a reader-no matter their orientation-can see him or herself? On both of these fronts, author Wayne Courtois excels in just about every way.

A Report from Winter is an introspective memoir, the author returning home to Maine and hints of a childhood that was hardly warm and inviting. As such, much of the narrative takes place in the narrator's head, his observations and emotional reactions to a place and a feeling he'd long left behind taking center stage. He's returning for the death of a parent, one of the quintessential defining moments in any adult's life. It is that moment when childhood disappears forever, and Courtois captures with amazing clarity all the emotions that run though a person when they face this massive change.

Courtois' voice and prose are wonderfully accessible, drawing the reader in with an easy style that has warmth and subtle humor. This is counterbalanced sharply by his attention to detail when it comes to creating for his readers the cold, harsh winter about him, a metaphor for the brittle childhood he experienced, one nearly devoid of love and the heart one wants every child to experience. The author's use of limited flashbacks combined with his attention to detail with respect to the winter setting gives you the perfect picture of what life might have been like for the author while growing up, and he does this wonderfully, never resorting to a litany of who did what to whom. He gives us the broad strokes and anyone who has ever dealt with the passing of an emotionally distant parent will understand and feel every moment of that childhood, even though it may be very different than their own.

And yet, Courtois gives us glimmers of the love trying to break through that emotional permafrost of his family. They are brief, and perhaps they are only the longing perspective of a child grasping ant anything that could be taken for affection, but they are emotionally powerful glimpses.

Likewise, Courtois manages to paint pictures of his family with perfectly tuned phrases that tell us more about those people than long scenes of domestic drama ever could. This is especially important when you are dealing with people who are no longer with us in the traditional narrative sense. Though the author's father is not really a central "character" as the memoir unfold, Courtois lets us know exactly who he was in a refreshingly spare way: "My father didn't say anything. He secretly disliked Louise, but it was the kind of secret you could practically trip over." And when it comes to the author's mother, Jennie, who is bedridden and unable to speak, Courtois also paints a vivid picture. "Yes, there was my mother, carrying on in a low voice, spitting out grudges like watermelon seeds."

Despite all this, we feel the author's need to find something positive in his family, the desire for closure and approval as a major chapter of his life ends. Courtois captures the mixed emotions of such a time: the bitterness from holding on to a past, the longing for closure, the guilt for staying away so long, the claustrophobia of remembering why you left in the first place. It is here the memoir excel the most, crossing wonderfully from the story of one man's family, into a universal story that has emotional depth and resonance.

If there is one qualm I have with the book is that while the POV remaining entrenched in the author's thoughts works brilliantly when addressing the past and family, I did long for it to open up a bit when the author's partner, Ralph, arrives on the scene. I wanted the introspection to ease a bit so that I could get to know who Ralph was, especially in relation to the author. We certainly get close to that at times. The chapter where the author recounts their first date is wonderfully truthful, hope and potential love peeking out. It also has a light humor to it that really makes you want to know these two people as a couple. But while we see glimpses of it, I never really felt that I knew Ralph and never quite saw exactly what he brought into the author's life. I certainly know what I have been told by the author, but because the narrative remains entrenched in introspection, I never get shown who they are together. And I wanted to see that, feel the spring that Ralph brought into the author's life.

But in the end, Courtois has taken a piece of his life, let us glimpse in, and built a world that is full and truthful, one that will feel familiar to many. With humor, wit and sharp prose, he builds a family, dissects it and holds it up for examination. He never gilds the lily and the result is an honesty that has depth and resonance for the reader. Does he tie it up in rosy endings? No. But he doesn't need to. Life can be messy and feel unresolved at times, because, as author Courtois shows us, you really can't go home again...but sometimes that is not a bad thing.

Originally reviewed for Uniquely Plesurable.

'A Report From Winter' by Wayne Courtois is a testament to the triumph of love over the unbearable. Weaving events from a dysfunctional past with the reality of a brutal winter, tempered by the support of a loved one, Mr. Courtois has crafted a narrative that is both spellbinding and moving. It also brings to the reader's attention of what family really means. The family one makes from oneself is not necessarily the family one is born into. With his partner's support Mr. Courtois bravely deals with the ghosts from his past, moving beyond them. A book worth reading.

The title of Wayne Courtois's memoir disguises a double meaning that becomes obvious a few pages into the book: which is the "winter" from which the author reports? You'll finish this book wondering which proved to be more frigid: the streets of Portland, Maine, after a nasty ice storm or the relationship between Wayne and his mother (or, for that matter, between Wayne and anyone else in his family). It's a tough call.

Wayne's winter of his discontent is masterfully recounted, but the real hero ends up being Wayne's patiently suffering boyfriend, who blows into town halfway through the book like a warm blast of summer. Wayne has returned to Maine after a decade-long absence, when his mother is on the verge of dying in a nursery home, mumbling what seems to be nonsense and attended by her only sister still willing to associate with this dying woman. Wayne's trip carries the taint of long-postponed duty, but Courtois realizes during his first visits to his mother's bedside that he wants more than a vigil and closure; he wants recognition, redemption, even absolution. "My mother's fury was a force of nature, it could rip the roof off a house," he admits, but confronted with the certainty of her death, he says tearfully, more than once, "I wish you could talk to me." One understands he's been wishing for this his entire life.

Courtois's prose throughout is precise, and certain scenes are impeccably recounted: his anxious reunion with his uptight brother (who is also gay); the flashbacks to an episode in childhood, when Wayne's family was stuck in a snowstorm; and--the highlight of the book--his tense first date with Ralph, which is described with barely subdued hilarity. The weakest characterization, it must be said, is of Wayne himself; perpetually insecure and bleakly mawkish, his self-portrait is often in danger of becoming an unbearably weepy therapy session; methinks Wayne doeth protest too much. Fortunately, the bitterness and the angst are often cut with an acidic (but rarely campy) wit that rescues the narrative from drowning in tears of self-pity.

To be fair to the author, I'm not much fond of the woe-is-me memoir, which seems to have become its own genre in recent years ("Electroboy," "Oh the Glory of It All," "The History of Swimming," etc.). Those readers who do enjoy this type of writing will almost certainly like "A Report from Winter," which strikes me as a cut above the rest, and the author's finely rendered prose has convinced me to seek out his short fiction and novels.

The author really puts his heart and soul into this book making the reader feel as if they are the ones experiencing the sadness, joy, love, and heartbreak of losing one's parent. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book, and I highly recommend this book to anyone young or old.

This memoir has already received high praise from numerous quarters and after reading the gripping account, I can add that it is all well deserved. This honest account is filled with memories and dreams of the author's childhood, his first date with his partner, and his quiet dysfunctional family. Although the summary calls this book stubbornly unsentimental, I would argue that the narrative is heavily sentimental but written with a brutal, almost painful honesty that yearns for something more than the truth will allow. Either way, this stark and evocative story will grip readers as it shows the love and pain within relationships.

Although the story is about the author's dying mother and coping with her final days, there are several asides included to keep the pace moving. This also serves to lighten the somewhat oppressive tone when recalling the painful death and indignity of illness. Here the author parallels a story of his childhood during a particularly bad snowstorm in Maine and shows how the pattern of his family is already set and not to be altered through the decades. His unhappy, perpetually disappointed mother coupled with an almost absentee father shown in stark contrast to the confused rejection of his brother, this one scene stretched out and told over the course of the book highlights several important factors. The first is the family dynamic, but more importantly, the author's place and ultimately his discovery of his sexuality.

At the same time, the narrative shows the warm and loving relationship with his partner, Ralph, through unconditional acceptance and love. The telling is brutally honest in exposing the author's own perceived weaknesses and faults while acknowledging that Ralph's strength and love is essential to his happiness. If anything, the narrative is almost too stark and open. Often the negative actions, thoughts, and desires are shown blatantly and without any positive context to soften the instinctive thoughts that are all too human. Tempered somewhat by the humor and wit woven into the various remembrances, the empty and cold landscape is often reiterated in the emotions and actions of various people in the book.

The writing itself is engaging and often invites the reader to laugh or cry with the emotions and actions depicted. The honesty of various situations is never in question, as every detail is offered with a painful unveiling from the aching need to be accepted and loved in places that will never happen to relying on the warmth and care of his partner. Although this makes the story difficult to read in places, the pacing and placement of the details keeps the book from being too dark and depressing. Perhaps the saddest detail is not in the unfortunate death of his mother but in lacking that much needed acceptance that was always craved. Such simple need is portrayed in a loving, sentimental, and brutal manner creating a gripping and enthralling story.

This memoir will resonate with many as the dysfunctional, cold family is not a rare experience among readers. The inability of two gay brothers to find common ground, however painfully so, will also be recognizable just as the witty retelling of a first date will evoke emotion in even the hardest hearts. The stunning description of Maine in winter with its beauty, chill, and heart breaking cold is incredible and leaps off the page. While not always an easy book to read, the emotion and context afforded make it well worth the journey.

This wonderfully written memoir tells the story of the author's journey back home to be at the bedside of his dying mother. It's January 1998 and Wayne Courtois is back in Maine after a ten year absence during which he has had only minimal contact with his family. Having grown up in an emotionally closed off family with barely any love or attention shown by his parents or older brother Wayne has dealt with mental health issues, including a suicide attempt in his twenties, that apparently with the help of his partner of nine years, Ralph, he's been able to deal and live with.

While the main focus of the story is his mother and dealing with her impending death the author also shares a few memorable parts of his earlier life. In particular is the recollection of a winter storm that strands the family at his aunt's house and how they all, his mother, father, brother, aunt and himself, dealt with their time together. Those scenes, spread throughout parts of the book, help to show the pattern of their family life. An unhappy and often angry mother, a distant father and a brother who never wanted to connect with his younger sibling, not even over their shared sexual orientation.

In contrast are the times when Wayne thinks about Ralph and their live together. The author shares glimpses of their loving relationship, especially the story of their first date and his reactions afterward, and so when he is having difficulties dealing with his emotions we know it's perfectly natural for him to turn to Ralph. When Ralph assures him, "We are one" during a phone call before he arrives in Maine, it highlights Ralph's support and their love and also helps to show the difference between his disappointing and dysfunctional familial relationships and the happiness he's found with Ralph.

While this emotional story deals with loss and regret the author manages to paint a vivid and multi-layered picture that also shows love and hope. This is not a 'feel good' 'happily ever after' story rather it's an honest and unflinching account of the author's life and his relationships with the people it in.

Wayne Courtois' writing style is wonderfully descriptive and engaging. I've never been to Maine or experienced a winter storm yet was able to picture both clearly from reading his words. The nostalgic feeling of returning to the town where he grew up and finding the small and not so small ways in which it's changed and the attention to detail the author takes with his stunning descriptions of the cold, harsh winter help to create a truly memorable story.

Rich in detail and emotion this is a very well written, gripping and honest look at the author's life and while the circumstances are sad the book leaves the reader with a feeling that Wayne has come through the dark and is finally emerging into the light. While there was no quick fix in the author's relationships with his family, after all this is real life not fiction, there is nevertheless a feeling of some closure being achieved and a sense that Wayne and Ralph's bond actually grew stronger as the author realized that when someone truly loves you they will be there for you when you need them.

I very rarely read non-fiction, much less memoirs, as I prefer the escape from the everyday that romantic fiction offers but I'm very happy to have read A Report from Winter. It's a story that may not appeal to everyone but I highly recommend that you give it a try. I truly think anyone who reads this story will in some way or another truly appreciate having done so.

The best people come from the strangest of origins. "A Report from Winter" is story of Ralph and Wayne, a gay couple. Ralph is introduced to Wayne's family, and Wayne writes about this strange experience of a gay couple encountering an unusual family and the strange relationships that emerge. A unique memoir of a situation that many gay people unfortunately face, "A Report from Winter" is quite the read and is highly recommended for personal memoir collections, especially with those with a slant towards gay studies.

By the time Wayne Courtois got to his mother's deathbed, she was no longer able to communicate and he was never quite sure she even knew he was there. Courtois had not seen his mother, or the rest of his family, for ten years when he arrived in frozen Maine feeling somewhat guilty about his long absence. "A Report from Winter" explains why it happened that way.

Wayne Courtois and his older brother Bruce grew up in a family in which emotions and feelings were largely ignored. Certainly, they were never expressed out loud or through any kind of physical intimacy. The one exception to the rule was the anger into which his mother would erupt at seemingly random moments, anger that often culminated with her expressing her utter contempt for Wayne, her youngest son. Wayne's mother paid so little attention to the feelings of her sons that he grew up believing that having an emotional life was a secret best kept to himself. Open communication was so taboo in the Courtois family, in fact, that Wayne still believes that his parents died without the knowledge that both their sons are gay.

Finding it difficult to cope with his emotions while waiting for his mother to die, and having no one in the family with whom he can share his feelings, Wayne reluctantly decides to ask his partner, Ralph, to join him from Kansas City. The close relationship of the two men, and the unquestioning support Ralph provides in this moment of crisis, underscore everything wrong with Wayne's family and transforms "A Report from Winter" into a remarkable story.

Wayne Courtois is one of those writers whose prose is almost effortless to read. One is left with the impression that his memoir is a brutally honest one, a book that is unlikely to be appreciated by his brother or his Aunt Louise, the two family members who spent some time with him at his mother's bedside. He has little good to say about either of them, and readers of "A Report from Winter" will certainly understand why that is after reading the flashbacks to an incident from Wayne's childhood which alternate with chapters about his mother's death.

When he arrived in Portland that day in 1998, Wayne was not sure what to expect. As he puts it, "With a start I realized that, while I hadn't taken this journey to indulge in self-contemplation, I'd be doing plenty of it whether I liked it or not. My goal might eventually be to get the hell out of here with my short supply of self-esteem intact." Thanks to Ralph, I think Wayne Courtois left Maine with his self-esteem stronger than ever.