Book Review: This is Not a Pity Memoir
15/06/2022
Book Review | This is Not a Pity Memoir by Abi Morgan
This is, without a doubt, my best book so far of 2022 and it’s going to take some beating (not that it’s a competition). I was immediately intrigued first and foremost by the title because I love a memoir but do also often mull the boundaries inherent in writing such a piece - who is it for, what’s its function for the writer and so on. I’m also aware that Abi Morgan is a writer for stage and screen and so I was interested in how her work might translate to the stage.
Perhaps one reason why I loved this book so much is because it really delivered on both these counts. Morgan writes so compellingly about the worst period in her life and often employs her expertise as a screenwriter by highlighting the moments that she would cut if she was writing a film, the elements of real life that wouldn’t have made it to the screen because of their messiness or inconvenience as a plot point. On one hand, as a fellow writer, this felt a little bit like being granted a masterclass from Morgan herself but simultaneously there was a very moving element of watching the author desperately try to make sense of her life in the way she knew best. She talks within the memoir of not having been sure how to tell the story - that she considered making a play before COVID hit and made that untenable.
Similarly, she explores the title This is Not a Pity Memoir, describing a dinner party at which a drunk woman derides what she calls ‘pity memoirs’ when a young Morgan expresses an interest in adapting the late columnist Ruth Picardie’s book into a movie.
‘Why share your fucking misery?’ the girl demands. ‘Who wants to read that’.
In response Morgan says: ‘I am so embarrassed. I am found out. “Me,” I want to shout. “I want to read it. Me.” But I don’t.’
Same Abi, same.
Throughout the book she comes back to this issue. Is this a pity memoir? When is it the appropriate time to write down everything that’s happening to her family? Is it years later? Is it of the moment and, if so, is that actually simply therapy? Who gets to tell the story? There are recordings her daughter makes with her father and offers to her mother that Morgan turns down - that’s not her part of the story to tell. The play idea was going to include her husband onstage. The written memoir cannot, naturally. The final words of the acknowledgement come to some sort of conclusion on this matter:
Finally, Justine Picardie and the late Ruth Picardie, whose fearless writing and beautiful honestly showed me that there are no such things as pity memoirs, only words on pages and if they mean something to someone, they are worth being said.
The book is a love story at its heart. In June 2018 Abi Morgan got home to find her partner Jacob lying on the floor of their bathroom. They later discovered that he had suffered a now documented reaction to an injection he was receiving to treat his MS. From that day on life changed beyond recognition for Morgan and her family. Jacob was put into an induced coma and stayed in hospital for over 200 days. When he finally awoke from his coma after seven months he had developed Capgras Sydrome, more commonly known as Imposter Syndrome. While he recognised their children and the family dog, he was under the delusion that Morgan was not the real Abi Morgan. The memoir follows the experience from Morgan’s point of view as she becomes a single parent of sorts, as well as her partner’s carer, all while maintaining her writing career and battling breast cancer. It’s a shocking story, over and over again it’s unclear what might happen next, and Morgan’s fortitude is impressive.
Although she’s honest about her own battles in the face of all this pressure, Morgan is generous with praise for others. For her children, her family and in-laws, the doctors, for Jacob. She’s also incredibly honest, sharing moments of self pity and even taboo thoughts over whether Jacob’s death would have been preferable at times to their new normal. This is such an important element of the book, particularly in terms of her conclusion that ‘there are no such things as pity memoirs, only words on pages and if they mean something to someone, they are worth being said.’ To give voice to thoughts one ‘shouldn’t’ have is powerful and will most certainly mean something to someone.
Lest I’ve made this book sound like an unrelenting gallop through misery, I’d also like to highlight how funny and witty is it. There’s the aforementioned dinner party, with the drunk girl becoming ever drunker and more irritating. There’s Jacob and Abi’s burgeoning love story, complete with unexpected baby and fusing of cultural traditions. There are snapshots of family life - Jacob’s enthusiasm for adventure, his relationship with his children and his talent of acting. As someone who often feels alienated by cultural references in books it was also a delight to finally feel totally seen as Morgan shares her family’s love of theatre, exploring Judaism and Tim Minchin lyrics.
If I hadn’t hammered it home by now, just to confirm: Big fan of this book. It’s moving, sad, heartwarming, unexpected, funny and clever. Plus more. If you love a pity memoir - this is one of the best I’ve ever read.
Thanks to NetGalley and John Murray for an advance digital ARC of This is Not a Pity Memoir.
You can pre-order your own copy at my affiliate link on Bookshop.org or go to your local independent bookstore!