Book Review: Be Cool: A Memoir (sort of)
Be Cool: A Memoir (sort of), Ben Tanzer. Seattle: Dock Street Press, February 1, 2017, Trade Paperback, 372 pages.
Reviewed by Susan Dennison.
Be Cool is an amuse-bouche of essays—30 bite-sized pieces that take the reader through Tanzer’s efforts to be one the cool people in the 1980s through the 2000s. Cool, for Tanzer, is wanting to be “noticed and . . . Finding a way to be heroic and larger than life.” Sometimes he finds a fleeting fame; at other times, the attempts to be cool go tragically and humorously awry when he gets swept up in imagining how he will swoop in and save the day.
Tanzer is direct and unapologetic for his desire to be special, the sun around which others orbit. What child hasn’t dreamed of that?
On the surface, the book seems like it could be a portrait of a “hip” writer who pursues coolness with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Anyone who sees a picture of Tanzer will think this is probably someone who was born with more than his share of cool quotient. His headshot—dark framed glasses, suitably messy hair, the shimmer of an unshaved face, black shirt and jacket and blue jeans—it all winks at you and says, this is cool. However, with his willingness to admit what he is now is not what he was growing up, one suspects he may still struggle today.
Once you dive into Tanzer’s essays, you recognize that he was so NOT cool growing up and bordered on absolute nerdiness. So, he may have metamorphosed into a cool Chicago writer, but that transformation was pockmarked with embarrassing crushes (Parker Stevenson), fumbling sexual encounters (the dreaded snap front bra), binge drinking (if you say you don’t have a drinking problem, do you?), and fashion faux pas (dressed as Sweeney Todd for a day at the beach).
Were it not for Tanzer’s unflinching honesty, humor, and at times poetic writing, this collection would drift into the pile of I-was-an-awkward-kid-growing-up-and-now-I’m-writing-about-it memoirs. Happily, Be Cool rises above those memoirs. One is never quite sure if Tanzer actually does have his act together, and the book is stronger for that.
Although a few of the essays fade out with the sense there was more to say than was on the page, there are ones that soar off the page and take the reader for a ride. When Tanzer hits a sweet spot, you get wrapped up in the story and the language, drawing you into his world where his words and voice swirl around you.
“Sketches from the Accident (For Andre Dubus)” is one such essay. It’s a nod to author Dubus’ debilitating accident in 1986, when he was struck by a car while helping two stranded motorists. Dubus lost his leg and was eventually confined to a wheelchair following the accident. Like Dubus, Tanzer suffered a life-altering accident. At fourteen years old, he skied into a tree, separating his thigh muscle from the bone. What follows is a detailed and mesmerizing account of his hospital stay and recovery. Before the accident, Tanzer was an avid runner and it was months before he was able to run as he once did. With short, punchy sentences, Tanzer conveys the injury and its aftermath with an objectivity and matter-of-factness that gives weight to his essay. There’s no wallowing in “poor me,” and for that I think this essay is one of the strongest in the collection.
Tanzer is as honest and open in “My (not quite) Cancer Years,” in which he endured months of back-stabbing pain and invasive examinations before passing a kidney stone. All good memoirists understand the power of honesty, even when it may make the reader cringe, and cringe you may while reading this essay. The willingness to lay bare one’s body and feelings is not for the timid. Some of the essays start as stories, but along the way, the reader gets more, going a little deeper into understanding the author more and learning something in the process.
Who hasn’t admired someone from afar or made an ass of themselves? Who hasn’t wished for a do-over or realized the need to make a different choice based on circumstances? But a writer who is willing to admit he doesn’t have it all together, even now, is worth reading and enjoying.