Memoir Relation

David Small’s memoir “Stitches” hit home with me a lot more than I expected it to and I found myself connected to David’s portrayal of himself. David expressed throughout the memoir that he was a child with a high level of imagination, to which I have always found myself to have, like when he imagined bottled fetuses to up and jump out of their jars and run off. In car rides, I used to imagine there was some acrobatic man jumping from road sign to road sign. When talking about how he depicted his father and colleagues, he imagined that: “They were soldiers of science, and their weapon was the x-ray. X-rays could see through clothes, skin, even metal. They were miraculous wonder rays that could cure anything” (Page 26). The imagination of a child could only believe that x-rays were a miraculous cure-all to illnesses and to pretend that they were weapons in the fight for good is to imagine them almost as superheroes.

                His parents were often depicted in a negative connotation throughout the memoir, like when he describes his mother’s “language”. Her passive aggressive demeanor and the general way that she conducted herself was at times near reminiscent of my own parent’s behaviour. The slamming of kitchen cabinets and sitting angrily at the dinner table is a feeling I know all too well. Examining her behaviour, David wrote: “Her furious withdrawals could last for days, even weeks at a time because she never spoke her mind, we never knew what this was all about” (Page 15). It’s very troublesome being in those shoes as a child trying to understand why your parents are upset with you. You try to systematically come up with reasons as to what you could have done to have caused this behaviour but being older now, you see that it’s less about them being mad at you personally and more about something else that is eating away at them causing them to lash out or be uncharacteristically quiet.

                Another connection that I found myself to have with this memoir was that my relationship with my brothers is close, if not exact, to the relationship of David and his brother. When his parents were gone, his brother beckoned to him: “Scream and cry all you want, little baby. Mama’s not here. She went to play golf. I’m in charge for the next four hours!” (Page 50). If I had a nickel for every time I heard this from my brothers when I was younger, I would be filthy rich. The corruption that quickly emanates through older brothers who believe they have been bestowed with this grand power when their parents are gone is something younger siblings know all too well.

                Overall, I would say that the dysfunction portrayed in this memoir is a very true and honest representation of most families. David Small’s memoir really brings to light what most have probably tried to suppress. Reading this graphic novel helps to face those buried anxieties and elevate them by putting them out in the open.