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Searching for Mercy Street: My Journey Back to My Mother, Anne Sexton

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I could not put this book down. Linda Gray Sexton's honesty was enlightening. She portrayed her mother as more than a woman with a mental illness. It is a portrait of a smart intelligent woman struggling to find meaning in her mentally ill life who at times rises above it but eventually succumbs. It is evident that Anne loved her daughters, but showed it in atypical ways. After reading this book, I find myself very interested in the work of Anne Sexton and her life. It gives a fresh and candid glimpse at this amazingly talented, yet tragic woman and a daughter who struggled to make sense out of her mother's love.

I worked with Linda closely for a year when she had small children in the Mid-1980's. I was very touched and disturbed by this book. I found it to the point, but forgiving. I commend Linda for her resiliency and candor. I know that to write this book she had to rediscover many guarded memories. I encourage all to read it. Anne Sexton was a complicated, brilliant artist. Her life was fascinating to read about, especially from her daughter's intimate perpective. The poems that were included helped me to more fully understand the artist and woman through the different stages of her life. I hope Linda writes again.

I read long ago the biography of Anne Sexton by Diane Middlebrook, and was very impressed by the tormented life of the poet. I also happened to read one of the novels written by her daughter, Linda Gray Sexton, "Points of Light", which I did not like all that much. So I had (I thought) an idea of who Linda was, both through the biography and her novel.

I was wrong. Searching for Mercy Street is truly what the subtitle claims: "A journey back to my mother". It gets so personal it is embarrassing at times. Linda goes into a lot of detail as to why she revealed things that you would never want anybody outside of your family to know, and it makes sense, and yet it doesn't. I have never read a better account of life with another person. It is not 100% chronological, but it is rich in detail and clarity. I read it with the anticipation I have sometimes when reading a very interesting novel.

Long time ago a friend said: "Your parents are probably the only people that you may love even if you don't like them". I have thought about that comment quite a bit over the years. Linda was conflicted over the relationship she had with her mother. There was the void of not having had a mom in the general sense of the term, not so much a June Cleaver, but more someone who takes care of you, looks after you, helps you, loves you. There was the abuse. And mingled with everything else, there was the unconditional love. The complexities of mental illness are true and clear and never better represented than in this story. I have to wonder: how much of Anne's behavior was pure selfishness, and how much was her disease?

I had to cry at some of the stuff, because you know the pain was real and strong, and there was no prettifying any of the horrible things that went on at that household. And at the same time I had to smile at certain things, like the tenderness in the relationship between Linda and her father. It was heartwarming, among all the raw pain.

The choice of photos complemented the writing perfectly. I loved reading this memoir, pain and sordid details and all.

I actually read this book while it was in production -- I was on the proofreading team for the publisher's typesetter -- and the entire team was enthralled by this book. Work is work, and usually we would would deal with the task at hand, but on breaks and over lunch, many of us working on this book would have mini-sessions about the author, her mother, the context of the relationship. We all felt very personally attached and protective of this book because we were working with the manuscript, which had handwritten notes between the author and her editor in the margins. It wasn't simply a narrative, we were keenly aware of the humanity behind the words. However, that awareness was truly heightened by the sensitive and thoughtful writing. Of course, my reading experience is unique to my situation, but I urge all readers to give this book some time. It's worth the investment.

I have never been a great fan of Anne Sexton, the poet. But after reading the memoir written by her daughter, I doubt that I would cherish the words the poet wrung from the souls of her young.

To grow up in a household where genius resides is a terrible burden. I find it amazing that Sexton's daughters, especially Linda, survived at all. It is a book painted with a palette of despair, but never mean-spirited. It was, after all, a story begging to be told:"...I would bring her back to life, but to do so would require that I give up my life to her; to do so would require an act of cannibalism on her part, to reverse this process that every other mother and daughter engage in- the mother-daughter dance, birth and death..."

Linda Gray Sexton saves the most painful revelation until last, and it becomes the defining action I will most associate with Anne Sexton. This poet, this mother, unable to attain her own epiphany, extends the cycle of emotional violence into another generation, and the betrayed becomes the betrayer. Linda Gray Sexton did what she could, finally said "no more". This is by no means an indictment of the daughter. Rather, I applaud her choice for life and freedom, for her own future, for her own children.

As the reader learns, the name "Gray" was given to family members who would attain the writer's gift. Respecting this honorary heirloom, Linda's words flow beautifully as she recalls her life with impressive detail. Linda expresses discomfort in revisiting the haunting moments of her life, but she doesn't stop reaching for information. Instead, she keeps pinching her insides until she's squeezed out each emotion, sharing her life and Anne's impact on it with the most lucid honesty. What courage to be able to look at oneself as closely as Linda does!

While enjoying the detailed account of humanity, I also learned the story of Anne Sexton, a brilliant artist and complex person who suffered a lot, and caused much suffering-- as well as joy.

This book also demonstrates how writing poetry or even non-fiction as therapy can truly become art if the writer is real, fearless and generous with detail. I appreciated the educational value of the information about the emotional impact of mental illness on an individual and a family.

Anyone who writes, ever feels blue, or appreciates learning about the mind of the artist should read this book. I also recommend reading "Touched with Fire", Kay Redfield Jamison's study of Manic-Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament, as well as "An "Unquiet Mind", her autobiography. Also, reading more of Sexton's poetry (many poems are excerpted in Linda Gray Sexton's book) completes the picture.

[Linda, Anne would be pleased to know how well you have learned to see.~JAD]

"My mother died of depression. She took her life to end her pain." --Linda Gray Sexton

Living with Anne Sexton must have been like living in hell--and her daughter, Linda Gray Sexton, leaves absolutely nothing out of this book. She allows every dirty secret to emerge like a sort of bitterness filling the air.

Such as Anne's body lying on top of her-- "She's very heavy...I want to scream-get off, get off, get off!"--Linda Gray Sexton

Without Linda G. Sexton's honesty, "Mercy Street" would have been just another Mommy Dearest, but this was not. This book was about therapy, change, and forgiveness: this book was about new beginnings.

"Without knowing it, mother passes out to me her powers of observation. She shows me how to watch, how to see, how to record what transpires in the world around me. This is how I inherit her greatest gift..."--Linda Gray Sexton

"Searching for Mercy Street" was about rising above an environment which could have easily turned one into the same monsters you coexisted with--

But Linda Gray does not only show the reader the monster, the molester, the mentally ill, Anne Sexton-- she shows us the victim, the darkly depressed poet-- who without writing, would have killed herself long ago; she shows us a mother who did the best she could,even while walking through the dark.

Linda Gray Sexton finally arrives whole--In a world for her that was once motherless--

Now, after years of searching, she has found the mother within, and Anne Sexton herself,with all her imperfections, lives within that person too.

I had just finished reading Anne Sexton: A Portrait in Letters, which I found very intense but entertaining, and decided to pursue her daughter's memoir. This book is Linda's side of the story, and is extremely explicit. The author is to be commended for her honesty. I believe everything she writes here; it does indeed have the ring of truth.

My only criticism is that - in three instances - this explicitness becomes extremely off-putting. While discussing one of her mother's trance states, we are treated to some TMI - too much information of a sexual nature. In another example, Ms. Sexton writes that her mother encouraged their father to walk around nude so their girls could get use to the adult male physique, and even goes further to remark on her father's endowment. While her father would probably be complimented (as any male would), did we really need to know that?

What struck me about this book was how disturbed Anne Sexton was. When you read her letters, you feel her intelligence and humor, but as portrayed in this book you learn of the fugue and trance states and how sexually charged she was. Anne played both sides of the fence too, having numerous affairs with both men and woman while married to the long suffering Kayo. Anyone would sympathize with this handsome man with the engaging smile who must have suffered through hell living with Anne. But he stood by her for some 25 years, but one day Anne decided she wanted a divorce because she wasn't getting enough sex. I would highly recommend anyone looking for a fuller picture of the life of Anne Sexton. Also recommended would be Diane Middlebrooks authorized biography.

The photos included by the way reveal how strongly Lynda Gray so closely resembles the mother.

I will never tire of reading about mothers and daughters. When I was 10, my own mother had a breakdown and was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. In the years that followed, my father - a medical scientist with many connections - my mother, and many others in the family, wove a fascinating yet tortured life for my siblings and me. There was always something sinister behind the blatant reality of my mother's tragic intermittent psychosis. That something sinister was in part the times in which we lived, times not far removed from the times Sexton and Linda Gray Sexton lived.

I like to think we live in more enlightened times now, but am not sure of that perception.

Linda Gray Sexton's account of life with her mother was by turns refreshing, brutally honest, uplifting and depressing. Yet it needed to be told.

Page 30: "Right after my parents had married, she asked my mother to run down to the store and pick up a bottle of milk. She was stunned to see her daughter-in-law (Anne Sexton)throw herself full length on the floor, drumming her heels and fists and shrieking that she would not go.
Page 104: "When Joy and I were young Mother (Anne Sexton) had insisted that Daddy walk around without clothes so that we could get used to seeing a man.
Page 107: (Linda was in 7th grade)"That spring Mother (Anne Sexton) was not sleeping well and she often crept into my room just as the sun came around the corner of my window. Sliding between the covers, she pressed her long body against mine and I would wake to find her curled around me. Under the warm heap of covers her naked belly and thighs pressed against my back and bare buttocks, my nightgown having bunched up around my waist during the night. As she rocked herself back and forth against me, her flesh damp and sticky, I closed my eyes and lay still, choking with disgust, my throat clenched against a scream I tamped down inside. I wanted to shove her away, but instead I waited for her to finish. The sound of that unvoiced scream echoes still inside my body.
Page 105: "Living with Mother, I had seen enough sexual acting out to last a lifetime, and the images of her fingers moving over her vulva had remained with me, horrifying and unexplained..."
I think these images speak for themselves. This book begs the question "Was Anne Sexton a tragic genius?". In my opinion, no. Was she a willful, manipulative, child molester? Without question. Although Linda Gray Sexton's writing can (at times) become quite predictable and boring, I give her 5 stars for addressing an extremely taboo subject: same sex incest. Sharing about being sexually molested by your mother takes tremendous courage and for that she certainly has my respect.