class New Jersey roots and define herself as an artist against the
backdrop of an unforgiving city, a series of disastrous girlfriends
and boyfriends, and an intense, intimate relationship with drugs
and alcohol.”
Finally coming out the other side, Cheryl B stayed sober, went
on to create superb work, and continued to inspire and encour-
age other writers and artists. She shared the last part of her life
with comic Kelli Dunham, the first girlfriend Cheryl really
trusted. It’s been said in and among Cheryl’s community, and the
N.Y.C. artistic, literary and queer communities, that Dunham’s
love transformed Cheryl from a self-loathing, secretive figure who
was always willing to give help but never able to ask for it, into
an open, welcoming—even happy—woman who learned how to
reach out and embrace the community that came her way. Now,
that community is giving Cheryl’s words a life beyond her own.
( topsidepress.com) ■
A TASTE OF THE GOOD LIFE
In two new books, lesbians find themselves
through food, family and farming.
Licking the Spoon: A Memoir of Food,
Family and Identity, By Candace Walsh
(Seal Press): Candace Walsh is a writer
and magazine editor who’s compiled
several collections for Seal Press, including
Dear John, I Love Jane: Women Write
About Leaving Men for Women. Licking
the Spoon: A Memoir of Food, Family and
Identity, is her first solo work, a hybrid of
food-based, family memoir and contemporary lesbian coming out story. In the first
chapter, “How Cuba Married Crete,” she
writes, “I decided to write about my lifelong
love affair with food, and once I sat down, I
realized that I needed to talk about my own
ingredients: my family—my grandmothers
and grandfather, my mother and father,
who gave me my genes and made the
meals that shaped my tastes—one way or
another.” We see Walsh learning to cook in
her family kitchen and the kitchens of her
grandmothers, how identity is hidden and
revealed through food, and also the devastation to her family caused by generations
of grief, abuse and addiction.
Unfortunately, so much detail in the
book’s early chapters also gives rise
to a notable overabundance of family
members, including great-grandmothers,
grandfathers and uncles, until they’re
virtually indistinguishable to the reader.
Yet, in other parts of the book, there are
inferences to people never introduced
by name, such as her siblings, an odd
oversight. Although Walsh describes her
bulimic behavior throughout
the years, she never recounts a
recovery process. The reader is
left wondering if her recent forays
into juicing and eating raw foods
have helped heal her—or are yet another
symptom of disordered eating. Some of
these issues could have been cleared up
in the editing process, but ultimately they
do not detract much from the story. At its
heart, Licking the Spoon is a love story
written by Walsh for her wife Laura, whom
she found after so many years of failed
heterosexual relationships, and for the food
and the family recipes that helped nurture
her along the way. Engaging in its narrative
and as satisfying as the recipes for Ropa
Vieja and Chicken Fricassee included, this
is truly a memoir from the heart.
Getting Somewhere, Beth Neff
(Viking Juvenile): Beth Neff spent many
years owning and running an organic
farm in Michigan. So she knows how to
authentically describe the environment
of her first novel, Getting Somewhere.
Having raised several teenagers, Neff also
lends credibility to the notion that city kids
might thrive in such a place—especially
if they’ve been sentenced there by the
juvenile justice system, in lieu of a harsher
sentence in a correctional facility. It’s
these life experiences that inform the
premise of Getting Somewhere, which
explores 12 weeks in the lives of Sarah,
Lauren, Cassie and Jenna, four teenaged
girls who’ve experienced homelessness,
sexual abuse and crime. As they get used
to the loving guidance and dedicated
work ethic of the farm’s lesbian owners,
all four teens must grapple with issues of
identity, recovery, self-worth, safety and
betrayal. Neff creates characters readers
will care about, and lets the story unfold
sweetly, like an heirloom tomato ripening
under the warm summer sun. And her
descriptions of farming, with its bounty of
vegetables, and of the land, with its rivers,
trees and fields, may make readers want
to dig in the dirt. If this sounds too pastoral,
rest assured the novel has also got grit,
and Neff doesn’t shy away from tough
issues like eating disorders, drug use and
cutting. Nor does she portray small town
life as excessively idyllic, or make her
lesbian characters overly altruistic. But
the tension really mounts when one girl,
battling her own inner demons, attempts
to sabotage the entire experience. As the
book winds towards its satisfying and
believable conclusion, readers will hope
that somewhere in the real world, wayward
young girls may be given a chance to
experience the recovery process depicted
in this thoughtfully crafted first novel.
November 2012 | 75
