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Who would have thought a memoir about going blind and suffering from severe depression could be so
funny? From the opening scene, when an uncle who has the same degenerative eye disease warns 12-year-old Jim, "You better start learning Braille now," Knipfel defies all the conventional responses to adversity. You can't help but laugh when a doctor "who had obviously been playing hooky when they were teaching sensitivity in medical school" tells a wailing woman who has just learned her son is dying, "Please sit down... [he] has a good two or three weeks yet." The hard-edged humor comes naturally to a guy who as a grad student formed a band called the Pain Amplifiers; we're not exactly surprised to learn that his column for an alternative newspaper prompted hate mail as well as fan letters. Knipfel's complete lack of self-pity conveys the particulars of failing vision with blunt immediacy (he wears a wide-brimmed hat so he'll feel impending lampposts before he knocks himself senseless against them). His zest for the world's absurdities makes this book an exhilarating guide to "the weirdness parade I have been marching in my whole life."
--Wendy Smith
From Publishers Weekly
Readers of the alternative New York Press newspaper who are familiar with Knipfel's irreverent "Slackjaw" column won't be surprised to read that this memoir of his grudging capitulation to a degenerative eye disease is the antithesis of the therapeutic memoir. Knipfel is honest, but not earnest; if he has any epiphanies, he presents them with more than a grain of salt. In the introduction, he explains the rare genetic disease, retinitis pigmentosa, and mentions the ensuing complication of a brain lesion and its alarming physical and emotional symptoms. Knipfel's writing is marked by bitter wit and manic irony. His ability to be funny about what happens to him leaves the reader no choice but to laugh along with him. Knipfel wore glasses from the age of three, but his parents seem to have had no inkling of the seriousness of his vision problems. An uncle, however, appeared prophetic when he said to the 12-year-old Knipfel, "You'd better start learning Braille now." But an accurate diagnosis wasn't made until Knipfel was in his late 20s. Knipfel claims to have had a natural contrariness and, to illustrate the point, informs readers that he habitually wore a Chicago Bears jersey in Green Bay. Later, in New York City, Knipfel's marriage went into a tailspin, his sight worsened and he blundered through a series of ridiculous encounters with the bureaucracy of blindness organizations?all of which he makes sound quite funny. Beyond the humor, however, his sharp sense of the absurd and his candor about his own considerable failings of character provide a moving reflection on what it is to face blindness and not, under any circumstance, to feel sorry for himself.
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
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