This slim collection, a tour de force of circumbendibus, blends memoir, reflective essay, and even travelogue.
Goodwin, a professor of communication at Regis University in Denver, has had a very interesting life. Besides being an academic, she is also an actor and a playwright (some of these anecdotes were written for her stage monologues). Here she covers rural getaways (heightened by wildfires), the perils of housesitting with a borderline feral cat, getting by on the razor edge of flat broke, the Paris catacombs, really strange dreams, neighborhood weirdos, looming tornadoes, panic attacks, the mysteries of the inner ear, sexual misadventures, epiphanies at the Grand Canyon, and much more, all accompanied by often snarky footnotes and small (understated) illustrations. Goodwin isn’t just humorous, but witty. At one point, she tries to enlarge a map in an old book by stretching her fingers out over it, adding, “the page must have been broken.” One long essay, “The Wolf and Me,” deals with those sexual misadventures, and it is where the word circumbendibusis found wonderfully illustrated. The account of a snowmobile ride behind a cute boy is interrupted, time and again, by many painful memories, including early gropings, an attempted rape by “Shmed Smenedy,” and, before that, an actual rape while drugged. This woman, Lord knows, is a survivor, and a tough one. It’s hard to explain, but somehow Goodwin finally gets us back to her ride on that snowmobile with that cute boy who did not try to assault her. The contrast is so stark, the leap from the predatory back to the innocent (he stopped in the woods just to sneak a cigarette) so stark, we are stunned. And relieved, even if the awfulness cannot be wholly exorcised. Goodwin has David Sedaris’ talent of turning on a dime from the truly hilarious to the thoughtful and poignant, helping us to learn new truths.
Wonderfully detailed, every word the right word, this book is a genuine keeper.