Tuesday, October 13, 2020

FREEMAN'S LOVE :: John Freeman

 A version of this review previously appeared in Shelf Awareness and is republished here with permission.



In Freeman's: Love, editor John Freeman tackles one of the weightiest, most amorphous subjects yet in this ongoing anthology series (Freeman's: California). Growing up, Freeman was blessed with unconditional love, living in its "constant, endless return." He grew to understand love could break him, endanger him or be used against him. As adults, we all wear love's lessons differently. "How we move our bodies is shaped by how love has entered our lives."



Freeman wanted to explore "the biggest and most complex emotion, the most powerful." Because "it cannot be held in the palm of our hand... we put it into the only container made stronger by such contradictions--a story." The container contributors are an impressive bunch, with varied backgrounds and numerous awards. Many of these pieces have been translated from, among others, Japanese, Bosnian and Polish.



Starting with seven short pieces, the anthology packs an emotional wallop from the start. Maaza Mengiste tells of a bracelet given by her grandmother, her "first definition of love and compassion," before Mengiste left East Africa for the U.S. Mengiste promises never to remove it as a symbol of their bond. She did not foresee a future where an Ethiopian woman in an airport refusing to break a vow could be viewed as a threat. From there, the likes of Anne Carson, Tommy Orange, Sandra Cisneros, Richard Russo and Louise Erdrich share how love uplifted, scarred and changed them. Although love is a universal language, its nuances are poignant and moving. 

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About Malcolm Avenue Review

I was lucky enough to be born and raised in a nifty, oak-shaded ranch house on Malcolm Avenue, a wide-laned residential street with little through traffic, located amid the foothills of Northern California. It was on that street and in that house I learned most of my adolescent life lessons, and many grown-up ones to boot. Malcolm Avenue was "home" for more than thirty years.

It was on Malcolm Avenue, through and with my family and the other families that made up our neighborhood of characters, that I first learned about and gained an appreciation for the things I continue to love the most to this day: music, animals, photography, sports, television/movies and, of course, books.

I owe a debt of gratitude to that life on Malcolm Avenue. It gave me a sense of community and friendship, support and adventure. For better and worse, life on that street likely had the biggest impact on the person I've become. So this blog, and the things I write here, are all, at their base level, a little bit of a love letter to Malcolm Avenue.

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