I Married My Mother is a part-narrative, part-poetry memoir about the author growing up in South Africa in the 1950s a world of ice cream, piano lessons and fashion, all vividly evoked in beautifully observed detail.

Written from a child's point of view, Maraney perfectly describes the world of sibling rivalries, friendships, hopes, fears and petty jealousies that occupy our childhood years. The main thrust of the book, however, explores the complex and repressive relationship between the author and her depressed mother, the beautiful Vera, who misses her family in England and never really fully adapts to life away from them.

Maraney's use of poetry throughout is fascinating and original, though it can be hit and miss. I enjoyed the idea of breaking up the narrative with more personal and less factual fragments, forcing the reader to work harder to tease out their meaning. Some of the poetry was powerful and thought-provoking, causing my reading to slow right down in order to take in each heavily weighted word, but elsewhere it seemed over-confessional, as though it was written more for the writer than the reader, and I longed to get back to more accessible narrative sections. As the book progresses, the surreal sections take over with the author's emotional disintegration, and whilst this is an effective tool for showing her mental state, I was frustrated not to know more of the 'what happened next' after the gloriously observed scenes of the start.

Maraney is a very skilful writer, and many of her provocative phrases will stay with me long after the book has been put down. The idea that the men in her life are virtually absent, turning up only as throw-away phrases and paragraphs, was intriguing, and it allowed the character of Vera to remain, as in Hilary's life, the most important and enduring image.


Rachel Buchanan - June 2008