web site hit counter Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag - Ebooks PDF Online
Hot Best Seller

Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag

Availability: Ready to download

Sigrid Núñez was an aspiring writer when she first met Susan Sontag, already a legendary figure known for her polemical essays, blinding intelligence, and edgy personal style. Sontag introduced Núñez to her son, the writer David Rieff, and the two began dating. Soon Núñez moved into the apartment that Rieff and Sontag shared. As Sontag told Núñez, “Who says we have to live Sigrid Núñez was an aspiring writer when she first met Susan Sontag, already a legendary figure known for her polemical essays, blinding intelligence, and edgy personal style. Sontag introduced Núñez to her son, the writer David Rieff, and the two began dating. Soon Núñez moved into the apartment that Rieff and Sontag shared. As Sontag told Núñez, “Who says we have to live like everyone else?” Sontag’s influence on Núñez, who went on to become a successful novelist, would be profound. Described by Núñez as “a natural mentor,” who saw educating others as both a moral obligation and a source of endless pleasure, Sontag inevitably infected those around her with her many cultural and intellectual passions. In this poignant, intimate memoir, Núñez speaks of her gratitude for having had, as an early model, “someone who held such an exalted, unironic view of the writer’s vocation.” For Sontag, she writes, “there could be no nobler pursuit, no greater adventure, no more rewarding quest.” Núñez gives a sharp sense of the charged, polarizing atmosphere that enveloped Sontag whenever she published a book, gave a lecture, or simply walked into a room. Published more than six years after Sontag’s death, Sempre Susan is a startlingly truthful portrait of this outsized personality, who made being an intellectual a glamorous occupation.


Compare

Sigrid Núñez was an aspiring writer when she first met Susan Sontag, already a legendary figure known for her polemical essays, blinding intelligence, and edgy personal style. Sontag introduced Núñez to her son, the writer David Rieff, and the two began dating. Soon Núñez moved into the apartment that Rieff and Sontag shared. As Sontag told Núñez, “Who says we have to live Sigrid Núñez was an aspiring writer when she first met Susan Sontag, already a legendary figure known for her polemical essays, blinding intelligence, and edgy personal style. Sontag introduced Núñez to her son, the writer David Rieff, and the two began dating. Soon Núñez moved into the apartment that Rieff and Sontag shared. As Sontag told Núñez, “Who says we have to live like everyone else?” Sontag’s influence on Núñez, who went on to become a successful novelist, would be profound. Described by Núñez as “a natural mentor,” who saw educating others as both a moral obligation and a source of endless pleasure, Sontag inevitably infected those around her with her many cultural and intellectual passions. In this poignant, intimate memoir, Núñez speaks of her gratitude for having had, as an early model, “someone who held such an exalted, unironic view of the writer’s vocation.” For Sontag, she writes, “there could be no nobler pursuit, no greater adventure, no more rewarding quest.” Núñez gives a sharp sense of the charged, polarizing atmosphere that enveloped Sontag whenever she published a book, gave a lecture, or simply walked into a room. Published more than six years after Sontag’s death, Sempre Susan is a startlingly truthful portrait of this outsized personality, who made being an intellectual a glamorous occupation.

30 review for Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag

  1. 4 out of 5

    Olivia

    I adore this book. It made me want to do 3 things: 1. Read more of Sigrid Nunez. 2. Read more Susan Sontag. 3. Be Susan Sontag, or at least believe I could be Susan Sontag. This book is perfect in many ways, from the length to its treatment of the topic. It is based on a pretty implausible premise (but a true one): she was Susan Sontag's assistant and was dating Sontag's son and then moved in with them. Sounds completely nuts. And something that led to a messed-up relationship with Sontag and the I adore this book. It made me want to do 3 things: 1. Read more of Sigrid Nunez. 2. Read more Susan Sontag. 3. Be Susan Sontag, or at least believe I could be Susan Sontag. This book is perfect in many ways, from the length to its treatment of the topic. It is based on a pretty implausible premise (but a true one): she was Susan Sontag's assistant and was dating Sontag's son and then moved in with them. Sounds completely nuts. And something that led to a messed-up relationship with Sontag and the son and the literary world. But how amazing of an experience? And how fortunate we are that she is such a good writer as well, so she can share some memories of it with us. I'm sure Nunez could have written a much longer book about these experiences, and I think it is extremely good judgment that she has condensed them down into a literary work in its own right, not just because of the subject. And I think the point of this book is not to make people want to be Susan Sontag (it is not a mean portrait or a slander by any stretch of the imagination, but it is hardly flattering in some points), but that's what happened to me when I read this book. Perhaps I fancy that Sontag seems like a really extreme version of my college self, which is something I always secretly wish I could go back to. I could be sleepless, drugged up on caffeine, writing for days at a time, reading a lot, collecting books, thinking constantly, drinking little, judging other women for femininity, etc. I also think I use "boring" a lot. See? I'm almost there. Sadly, that's not what my life is like, and I have a job (a huge sign of failure for Sontag), but there is always a dream of success. (I'm being partially facetious; it's up to you to figure out how much.) --- FAVOURITE QUOTES --- "Looking back, I only wish that I could feel more joy -- or, at least, that I could find a way of remembering that is not so painful." (35) "After all, what mattered was the life of the mind, and for that life to be lived fully, reading was the necessity." (84) "She often struck me as someone who wanted to be feeling ten times what she actually felt. Ten times happier, or ten times sadder, or ten times more stimulated by whatever it was that had her attention. (Could this have been at least partly at the root of her hunger to watch so many movies and performances -- to repeat every experience that gave her pleasure -- such a staggering number of times? Never enough: what a cruel ethic to live by." (133)

  2. 4 out of 5

    Khush

    It is a fast-paced book on Sontag. I never doubted what Nunez says about Sontag, but I am not so sure about things that she does not say about herself. For instance, she had such close access to Sontag, but she wrote about working for Sontag as if it were just another job. Before she began working for her, she knew who Sontag was and what she was getting into, but she edited that part completely. I assume that she must have been on cloud nine for getting to know Sontag. Also, the way she writes It is a fast-paced book on Sontag. I never doubted what Nunez says about Sontag, but I am not so sure about things that she does not say about herself. For instance, she had such close access to Sontag, but she wrote about working for Sontag as if it were just another job. Before she began working for her, she knew who Sontag was and what she was getting into, but she edited that part completely. I assume that she must have been on cloud nine for getting to know Sontag. Also, the way she writes about the whole ‘affair’ with Sontag, at times, it seems like she must have had a relationship with Sontag, and Sontag's son was merely used to make it all look 'proper.' I enjoyed the book. Usually, people write about others when they admire them. In Nunez case, it is quite clear that she hated Sontag. She brilliantly showed how mean Sontag was (and I trust Nunez voice), but I also found it petty. She ends the book on a very negative note. I feel that Nunez is taking a subtle revenge on Sontag for being so successful and so articulate. One of the most striking observations that Nunez makes is that Sontag has no sense of humor. It immediately strikes as true. However, the kind of writing Sontag did, hardly required humor. In other words, her writing never distracts or feels 'less' in any way because of the absence of humor. One is glued to Sontag's forceful sentences, marked by originality, passion, and intelligence. I also wonder what does Nunez think about Walter Benjamin? Is their enough 'humor' in his writing? Despite biographer's intention, I loved reading the book and knowing about Sontag's (endearing) flaws. By the way, I do not mind 'mean' people if they can speak and write like Sontag.

  3. 5 out of 5

    Julie Ehlers

    In general, [Susan] had contempt for people who didn't do what they truly wanted to do. She believed that most people, unless they were very poor, made their own lives, and, to her, security over freedom was a deplorable choice. It was servile. She believed that, in our culture, at least, people were much freer than they thought they were and had more options than they were willing to acknowledge. She also believed that how other people treated you was, if not wholly, mostly within your control, In general, [Susan] had contempt for people who didn't do what they truly wanted to do. She believed that most people, unless they were very poor, made their own lives, and, to her, security over freedom was a deplorable choice. It was servile. She believed that, in our culture, at least, people were much freer than they thought they were and had more options than they were willing to acknowledge. She also believed that how other people treated you was, if not wholly, mostly within your control, and she was always after me to take that control. "Stop letting people bully you," she would bully me. I don't know, Susan Sontag sounds kind of awesome. Sempre Susan is a unique book. When Sigrid Nunez (winner of a 2018 National Book Award) was just starting out as a writer, she worked very briefly as Susan Sontag's assistant, began dating Sontag's son David, and moved in with the two of them for what seems like a relatively brief amount of time, a year or so. This is Nunez's memoir of that time. It's different from any biographical treatment, not only because Nunez was actually living with her subject, but also because Sontag was going through cancer treatment for at least part of that time. So this short book is an encapsulation of an unusual period of both Sontag's and Nunez's lives. The book is well-written and highly entertaining and definitely gave me a good idea of what Sontag was like as a person, but the tone of it bothered me. I have no doubt that Sontag could be difficult, but she was also clearly operating on a different plane from most of us, and I thought Nunez was a bit too snarky about her (as the quote above might imply). It's ultimately a fond portrayal, but even after all these years, Nunez obviously still sees Sontag as something of an annoying parental figure, despite her brilliance. Really, this book made me realize how difficult it is to write a portrait of a highly influential person that actually does them justice. Even an acclaimed author like Nunez isn't totally up to the task. It's hard to believe anyone would be, although a massive bio of Sontag is coming out later this year, so I guess we'll see. I read this book because I'd recently seen the documentary Regarding Susan Sontag, and it made me curious to learn more about Sontag and of course to read her work. I plan to do both in 2019, and despite its flaws Sempre Susan was a good introductory text.

  4. 4 out of 5

    Leslie Reese

    Because I enjoyed reading Sigrid Nunez’s novel The Last of Her Kind when I saw Sempre Susan on the “new non-fiction” shelf of the Chicago Public Library, I thought it would be worth reading. The subject of this memoir is the late, iconic intellectual, writer and activist Susan Sontag; and it centers specifically on when Nunez met Sontag in 1976---they were ages 25 and 43, respectively. It was fun to read that Sontag believed in reading one book a day and that her personal library consisted of li Because I enjoyed reading Sigrid Nunez’s novel The Last of Her Kind when I saw Sempre Susan on the “new non-fiction” shelf of the Chicago Public Library, I thought it would be worth reading. The subject of this memoir is the late, iconic intellectual, writer and activist Susan Sontag; and it centers specifically on when Nunez met Sontag in 1976---they were ages 25 and 43, respectively. It was fun to read that Sontag believed in reading one book a day and that her personal library consisted of literally thousands of physical books! From Nunez’s non-idealized portrait, I understood Sontag to be brilliant, ambitious, generous, and idiosyncratic; someone whose insecurities translated into exaggeration, and, often an imposition of her body and ideas in the lives of others. It’s likely that any fierce [American] woman intellectual who emerged on the New York scene in the late 1960s and early 70s came across like a force of nature even if that wasn’t her style. While Sontag had “elite” tastes, and privileged European male intellectuals, she had no shortage of friends, lovers, and admirers throughout her adult life. Nunez writes of her mentor in a very candid, fluid, respectful, and thought-provoking style that makes me consider returning to Sontag’s texts---which I found too cool and impenetrable for my taste when I’ve tried to read them in the past.

  5. 4 out of 5

    Joshie

    It’s no secret I immensely adore Susan Sontag for her intelligence, eloquence, and profound love for literature and cinema. Her serious demeanour with the manner she carried herself, her thick hair, the timbre of her voice make me swoon with admiration. Sempre Susan colours in the obscured shade of humanness frequently eclipsed by Sontag’s public persona and intellect. As such there’s no surprise (but there’s still disappointment) to see Sontag as a flawed, set of contradictions and complication It’s no secret I immensely adore Susan Sontag for her intelligence, eloquence, and profound love for literature and cinema. Her serious demeanour with the manner she carried herself, her thick hair, the timbre of her voice make me swoon with admiration. Sempre Susan colours in the obscured shade of humanness frequently eclipsed by Sontag’s public persona and intellect. As such there’s no surprise (but there’s still disappointment) to see Sontag as a flawed, set of contradictions and complications, at times nasty and unkind (one time she suggests in front of other people Nunez and her son stick to oral sex alone so as not to bother with birth control), and surprisingly had the inclination to incessantly chatter to fill in the quiet (be it whilst peeing or making a cup of coffee in the kitchen). Her desire to be remembered as a fiction writer instead of as an essayist/philosopher was a lasting frustration; she also lamented the years she lost because of writing essays, even her inaptitude to sketch certain feelings, certain imagery into her fictional work and the disdain she had of her years as a professor whilst happily nostalgic with her time as a student. “In general, she had contempt for people who didn’t do what they truly wanted to do. She believed that most people, unless they were very poor, made their own lives, and, to her, security over freedom was a deplorable choice. It was servile.” Nunez’ reminiscence makes an unsuccessful effort to avoid any kind of bias but her reverence leaks in Sempre Susan; and opposite Sontag’s sometimes cruel ways Nunez was movingly empathetic. Having lived with Sontag whilst she was Sontag’s son’s, David, girlfriend, their relationship was rather complex, mostly a muddled and blurred plane of a mentor and mentee where there’s rivalry for David’s love and attention. I find Sontag was selfish in this regard. She never wanted her son to be completely independent (people insinuated incestuous relationship between them which I haven’t personally heard of) whereas she went to college at 15, got married at 17 and had David at 19 which she affixed to her eagerness to grow-up; childhood having been a boring time in her life (in one interview she stated “childhood has wasted on me”) besides having to deal with an alcoholic mother. At the same time, it showed her vulnerability beyond her questionable, unusual ways of having brought up her son which she was so often proud of (or perhaps done only to console herself), her refusal to yield to mortality yet elation to having been brushed with it several times. Of course, this memoir is not without its absurdly odd/funny recollections of how Sontag never understood why owning a lot of underwear was necessary when one can own a pair and wash the other at night, her belief women exaggerate the inconveniences of menstruation, and the dislike she had for people who go to therapy (albeit she went to one herself) or take antidepressants because she believed stoicism was the perfect response to depression. It's interesting (and a comfort) to read about Sontag’s preference to sit in front of a theatre screen, how she highlighted books with pencils, and her devotion to beauty in all its forms and interpretations amidst her small insecurity with her looks (one time she said, “Here’s a big difference between you and me. You wear makeup and you dress in a certain way that’s meant to draw attention and help people find you attractive. But I won’t do anything to draw attention to my looks. If someone wants to, they can take a closer look and maybe they’ll discover I’m attractive. But I’m not going to do anything to help them.”) However Sempre Susan may come off as clanky and intermittent in places and jumps from one memory to another like a puzzle solved without an image to rely on but to form upon. Its briefness made me want more; and so does my love for Susan Sontag which reached extremely new heights. To end the memoir with one unforgettable, devastating dialogue from Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story aptly puts life’s trickles of heartache and shame, how it may palpably feel very long yet insufficient to fully clasp and hold all of our desires and pleasures. Notes — — -She didn’t like Kerouac and didn’t see Carver’s influence as something to cheer on. -She bit her nails. -She called herself a melancholic. -She didn't like being called 'Sue.' -“If I’m close to someone, even if it’s just a friend, I always feel some sexual attraction to that person.” -Advice from Susan: if you cry once, people feel sorry for you. But if you cry every day, they just think you’re a drag. -Some of Susan’s favourite words: servile, boring, besotted, exemplary, serious. -She made it a point to see one film a day at theatres.

  6. 4 out of 5

    Declan

    Wonderfully readable and utterly lacking in vindictiveness despite the difficulties Sigrid Nunez faced at times in dealing with Susan Sontag, not least when Nunez was in a relationship with Sontag's son David. That she remains puzzled by some aspects of the great essayist's behaviour makes the book all the better. No cheap and easy analyzing, just a kind of sadness that someone who could so clearly and deeply feel the weakness or greatness of films and novels evinced so little awareness of how s Wonderfully readable and utterly lacking in vindictiveness despite the difficulties Sigrid Nunez faced at times in dealing with Susan Sontag, not least when Nunez was in a relationship with Sontag's son David. That she remains puzzled by some aspects of the great essayist's behaviour makes the book all the better. No cheap and easy analyzing, just a kind of sadness that someone who could so clearly and deeply feel the weakness or greatness of films and novels evinced so little awareness of how she - in her worse moments - could make other people feel. For me, as someone who has huge admiration for her writing and her unapologetically serious devotion to great art, the biggest shock of this memoir was finding out that Sontag had absolutely no appreciation of the beauty of nature. I have many books with her recommendations on the back of them and I like many of the same films she did, but we would not have got on. She loved city life, hated being alone and could not understand why anyone would want to spend time in the countryside. In those regards at least, I am her complete opposite. But she is still a hero of mine.

  7. 5 out of 5

    Gretchen Rubin

    This very short, impressionistic memoir whetted my appetite to learn more about Susan Sontag and her work.

  8. 4 out of 5

    John Pistelli

    I'll admit to a prurient interest in Sontagiana. I've always liked Sontag—well, always is a Sontag-like exaggeration, but I do believe I bought a '60s paperback of Against Interpretation, with her face in close-up on the cover, at the age of 16 or so from the now-defunct Eljay's Books on Pittsburgh's South Side. Since then, many of her famous essays from "Against Interpretation" itself to Regarding the Pain of Others have in whole or part burned their way into my brain. She is of that select com I'll admit to a prurient interest in Sontagiana. I've always liked Sontag—well, always is a Sontag-like exaggeration, but I do believe I bought a '60s paperback of Against Interpretation, with her face in close-up on the cover, at the age of 16 or so from the now-defunct Eljay's Books on Pittsburgh's South Side. Since then, many of her famous essays from "Against Interpretation" itself to Regarding the Pain of Others have in whole or part burned their way into my brain. She is of that select company of great and aphoristic essayists—with Hazlitt, Emerson, Thoreau, Wilde, Chesterton, Woolf, Orwell, Baldwin, Didion, Hitchens, Vidal, Paglia, Bloom, Zizek—that, whether you agree with them or not, come up with unimprovable and unforgettable formulations. I remember welcoming (and quarreling with, as when she advocated "liberal imperialism" in her 2003 C-Span2 interview) her contributions when she was alive; and I even remember quite vividly where I was when I read that she had died (admittedly, I was in a—to me—strange place in those pre-constant-connectivity days: a cybercafe on a cold December morning somewhere on the eastern edge of Rome). I am surprised that I have only rated one of her books on Goodreads, as I feel like I have read many, many of her essays; but I suppose I read them non-consecutively, without reading her collections themselves cover to cover. Sorry for all this autobiography—but then Sempre Susan is a memoir. It recounts the period in the late 1970s during which its author dated David Rieff, Sontag's son, and lived with the two in Sontag's apartment. The title, which sounds to me like a sitcom (perhaps I am thinking of Suddenly Susan), refers to the fact that Sontag's eminence in the New York literary world was such that everyone simply called her by her first name, including her son. Like many intimate portraits of Sontag, this one is ultimately unflattering—a portrait of a person more selfish and less exceptional than she understood. Sontag came from nowhere and created herself as a central figure in international culture, and the intimate portraits tend, unavoidably, to show the seams in that self-construction (she couldn't be alone! she insulted people! she endlessly resented her mother! she couldn't cook! she was an overbearing mother!). While Nunez writes about Sontag in this manner, she does so with "even-handed good humor and more than a little compassion," as Lydia Davis observes on the back cover. Nunez's tone is warm and bemused ("Oh, that Susan," you imagine her sighing with fond exasperation), not condemnatory at all, even as Nunez admits that Sontag's sensibility was somewhat alien to her own. In fact, my one complaint about this memoir is that Nunez tells us almost nothing about herself or her own background, which led me to wonder from what perspective exactly she was judging Sontag. Anyway, I am interested in Sontagian gossip less because I want to judge her (for instance, as a coldly aloof but insanely needy friend/mother/lover, as she seems to have been) and more because I have always (always!) wanted to be her. I find her life of endless reading, obsessive writing, and cosmopolitan urbanity utterly attractive, and I like to live it vicariously through books. Some of Sontag's qualities that puzzle Nunez I frankly share—her conviction that her childhood was a waste of time, for instance, or her Wildean contempt for nature. And Sontag's personal failings seem rather trivial to me; I have personally known people who behaved far worse without having managed to contribute anything to the world as brilliant as "Fascinating Fascism" or Regarding the Pain of Others. I love this moment of witting or unwitting high camp (would I know it was camp without Sontag?) that Nunez records:(Once, when she was struggling to finish an essay, angry that we weren't being supportive enough, she said, "If you won't do it for me, at least you could do it for Western culture.")I am not really fond of attacking great writers or artists for how they conducted their personal lives, whether it's sexist men doing it to women or feminist women doing it in turn to men or whatever the situation is. Could the critics pass this test? Whose personal life would escape censure? And what, really, does it matter to literary history if you were a good mother or not? The only revelation in this book that shocked me was intellectual rather than personal: Sontag, who wrote so authoritatively about German-language literature and culture, did not read German. (Then again, neither do I). Nunez also shares a very strange anecdote toward the end of the book about Edward Said, but it is Said who comes off poorly there, not Sontag. A writer's politics are a more important question than his or her personal life, in my view, but this book doesn't really deal with that issue. If I were going to criticize Sontag, it would probably be for her political activities, from the overwrought radicalism of the 1960s ("The white race is the cancer of human history") to her self-aggrandizing "liberal imperialist" interventions in Bosnia and Kosovo, which Toni Morrison and Fran Lebowitz amusingly mocked in Stockholm, as John Leonard reproachfully reports:[I didn't know] about the scam she pulled with Lebowitz on an English reporter. They knew this reporter would ask what she intended to do with her $825,000 in prize money. By prearrangement, Toni said she would go to Somalia and mount, in Mogadishu, a stage production of The Emperor Jones. I’m generally not in favor of Susan Sontag jokes by people who’ve stayed home from Bosnia. [...] And when this English reporter checked his story with Lebowitz, she confirmed it except for The Emperor Jones; the play instead would be, Fran said, A Raisin in the Sun.Sontag's much-resented comments after 9/11, though, seemed correct to me at the time and seem correct to me now; I am also not bothered by her notorious remarks—"fascism with a human face"—at the 1982 Solidarity rally. (Sontag's Wikipedia page has a useful summary of all these controversies, with quotations.) I think that, like so many activist writers of the 20th century, she should have just stayed at her desk—not that she was even close to being the worst of the lot. Back to Nunez's memoir. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in this exemplary (a Sontagian word) twentieth-century life. Some highlights follow. Sontag on feminism:She was a feminist, but she was often critical of her feminist sisters and of much of the rhetoric of feminism for being naïve, sentimental, and anti-intellectual. And she could be hostile to those who complained about being underrepresented in the arts or banned from the canon, ungently reminding them that the canon (or art, or genius, or talent, or literature) was not an equal opportunity employer. She was a feminist who found most women wanting.Sontag on teaching:Teach as little as possible, she said. Best not to teach at all: "I saw the best writers of my generation destroyed by teaching." She said the life of the writer and the life of the academic would always be at odds. She liked to refer to herself as a self-defrocked academic. She was even prouder to call herself self-created. [...] Besides, Susan had never wanted to be anyone's employee. The worst part of teaching was that it was, inescapably, a job, and for her to take any job was humiliating.Sontag and class:After I published a memorial essay in which I had written that Susan was not a snob, I head some outraged responses: everyone knew that she was a terrible snob! What I meant was that she did not believe a person must be lacking in any worthy quality simply because of his or her roots, no matter how primitive or deprived; she was not a class snob. She was the kind of person who noticed that the uneducated young woman who cleaned her house for a time had "beautifully, naturally aristocratic manners." On the other hand, she never pretended that a person's success did not depend—and to no small extent, either—on being connected...or that she didn't know what Pascal meant when he said that being wellborn can save a man thirty years. [...] She could not have cared less if a person came from a "good" or a "bad" family; she knew the distinction was specious. Wherever you were from, what really mattered to her was how smart you were—for, needless to say, she was an elitist.Sontag on American vs. European literature:Among living American writers, she admired, besides [Elizabeth] Hardwick, Donald Barthelme, William Gass, Leonard Michaels, Joan Didion, Grace Paley. But she had no more use for most contemporary American fiction (which, as she lamented, usually fell into either of two superifical categories: passé suburban realism or "Bloomingdale's nihilism") than she did for most contemporary American film. In her view, the last first-rate American novel had been Light in August, by Faulkner (a writer she respected but did not love). Of course, Philip Roth and John Updike were good writers, but she could summon no enthusiasm for the things they wrote about. Later, she would not find the influence of Raymond Carver on American fiction something to cheer. It wasn't at all that she was against minimalism, she said; she just couldn't be thrilled about a writer "who writes the same way he talks." What thrilled her instead was the work of certain Europeans, for example Italo Calvino, Bohumil Hrabal, Peter Handke, Stanislaw Lem. They, along with Latin American writers such as Jorge Luis Borges and Julio Cortázar, were creating far more daring and original work than her less ambitious fellow Americans. She liked to describe all highly inventive form- or genre-bending writing as science fiction, in contrast to banal contemporary American realism. It was this kind of literature that she thought a writer should aspire to, and that she aspired to, and that she believed would continue to matter.On that note, and here I'll end, Nunez, like many others, tells us that Sontag often lamented that she was not taken seriously as a novelist, no matter how acclaimed she was as a critic. I am as guilty of this as anyone else; I finished this book determined to give Sontag her due by trying one of her novels—most likely The Volcano Lover. But if I do not admire it, I will not hesitate to say so—for Western culture.

  9. 5 out of 5

    Lulufrances

    Nunez‘ writing and my tastes click really, really well, so her writing about Susan Sontag, someone who has always been fascinating yet distant to me (despite having read a bit of her work), worked a treat! Nunez paints a very human figure and shows as many sides as she can of Sontag‘s being and it felt a bit like a mystery being spoiled but in a good way. Recommended!

  10. 5 out of 5

    Steve Turtell

    This is the last thing by or about Susan Sontag I ever intend to read, and confirms me in my opinion of her. Yes she was sometimes brilliant, but she was never in the first rank of writers that she aspired to and demanded to be placed within. Her fiction is unreadable, even the one for which she got the National Book Award as a consolation prize for--the year she won she beat out Charles Baxter, Alan Lightman, Joyce Carol Oates, and Francine Prose--all much more talented writers than Sontag ever This is the last thing by or about Susan Sontag I ever intend to read, and confirms me in my opinion of her. Yes she was sometimes brilliant, but she was never in the first rank of writers that she aspired to and demanded to be placed within. Her fiction is unreadable, even the one for which she got the National Book Award as a consolation prize for--the year she won she beat out Charles Baxter, Alan Lightman, Joyce Carol Oates, and Francine Prose--all much more talented writers than Sontag ever was. Her essays, even when they lead you to other, better, more interesting writers than herself are nothing more than introductions, and once you've read them you can go on to the writers themselves. The truth is she never left grad school, which this memoir confirms. For years I've said that every six months or year Sontag would deliver the best fucking term paper anyone had ever seen. That's her accomplishment. She kept herself out of even those works where she could have been a better and maybe even a great writer if she'd been willing to reveal more than her brain: Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and It's Metaphors. Save your time. Look at the titles of her essays and then go read the person she's writing about. My prediction, in twenty years no one will be reading or talking about her as much as they were when she was alive. There'll be no need to. Unless you want to learn how to become a literary power broker: she was brilliant at that.

  11. 5 out of 5

    Laurie Neighbors

    In the midst of reading this book, I met my partner for dinner one evening, and we sat in the corner of the restaurant near our house, the one that we eat at all the time. The one with the porkchops. I ordered fish tacos and he ordered some fusilli with sausage and while we waited I told him about this book -- with more intensity than I had told him about any book in a while, since Lionel Shriver's "So Much for That," and definitely with more words than I'd ever talked about a memoir (except for In the midst of reading this book, I met my partner for dinner one evening, and we sat in the corner of the restaurant near our house, the one that we eat at all the time. The one with the porkchops. I ordered fish tacos and he ordered some fusilli with sausage and while we waited I told him about this book -- with more intensity than I had told him about any book in a while, since Lionel Shriver's "So Much for That," and definitely with more words than I'd ever talked about a memoir (except for his, of course) since I am deeply critical of the memoir genre (except when he uses it, of course). What I couldn't stop talking about was not just Sigrid Nunez's portrait of Susan Sontag but her balance (when she was balanced) and lack of balance (when she chose to be unbalanced) and how the book was both immediate (in the sense that it felt that we were right there with her twenty-something self as she was thrown into the deep water of Susan Sontag's apartment) and reflective (in that she told this story with such wholeness of understanding). Nunez understood this other woman, this other very complicated woman -- the way that women understand women. It was quite touching. It made me love Sontag even more, even in Nunez's most unflattering (yet always empathetic) portrayals. Recently I started Sontag's son's memoir or her death. I doubt I will finish it. He writes like a fish.

  12. 4 out of 5

    G

    Life may be disappointing, but this funny, nostalgic book is anything but. It strikes just the right tone, and captures the conflicting feelings we can have about those who influence us in obvious and indirect ways.

  13. 4 out of 5

    Cody Sexton

    Real writing, will tear your guts out. At the age of 25, Nunez, a recent Columbia graduate, came to work alongside Sontag as her secretary. Within weeks she had started dating Sontag’s son, David Rieff, and within months she had joined the two in their apartment on the Upper West Side. It was a very unconventional arrangement, as many people, they’re friends included, commented, but as Sontag quipped, “Who says we have to live like everyone else?” With simple and yet devastating clarity, Nunez lays Real writing, will tear your guts out. At the age of 25, Nunez, a recent Columbia graduate, came to work alongside Sontag as her secretary. Within weeks she had started dating Sontag’s son, David Rieff, and within months she had joined the two in their apartment on the Upper West Side. It was a very unconventional arrangement, as many people, they’re friends included, commented, but as Sontag quipped, “Who says we have to live like everyone else?” With simple and yet devastating clarity, Nunez lays out for us how an intense influence can be as deforming to a person as it is enlightening. Nobody becomes a writer, or wants to become a writer, because they have a fulfilling, stable, or conventional, life. Hardwick used to tell her Barnard students that you had to be really bored with life to become a writer. Which begs the question, am I drawn to the written word because I was, or am, essentially a lonely, perhaps even a depressed, person? I don’t know. The only real answer I have to this question is that growing up my mind was dominated with one obsessional disposition, that I didn’t want to grow up and tolerate a life that everyone thinks they’re supposed to. Walter Dean Myers said that when he “began to read, he began to exist.” It was the same for me. Which is also why, for the most part, I didn’t bother to excel at school. Most of my education took place after class, where I escaped into a world of books. I watered my mind with them and soon I had a garden. My first feeling about everything I write is that it’s shit, but the real hell of it is is that if you aren’t regularly tormented by self-doubt, your work probably is shit. A sense of failure clings to you like widows weeds. The question you have to ask yourself is whether what you’re writing is necessary. Writing should be a cudgel wielded to chase away the marauders who would choose to burn down the precious things of the human heart. But words still count. They still break hearts, and they still heal. They still matter. But as a rule, every writer would probably be better off doing something else, almost anything else. The only thing I know for sure about writing is that people who write drink bourbon and sit around in bars using words like, "servile.” Writing is an unnatural act, and it takes great skill to make it sound natural. Writing is like a secret you don’t want to tell but want everyone to know. I have always felt that my interests and pursuits were never recognized as meaningful to my family and friends. That was the sense I generally had. It almost felt like contempt. I don’t know what I did to be so hated. If it was just being myself, then I guess that’s just the price I had to pay. But in the end, none of it matters anyway, what happens to you in life. Not suffering. Not happiness or unhappiness. Not illness. Not prison. Nothing.

  14. 5 out of 5

    KOMET

    I first became aware of Susan Sontag the public intellectual/essayist/activist roughly 20 years ago. She intrigued me because, given the incipient strain of anti-intellectualism in the U.S., I didn't think we Americans had any publicly acknowledged (and accepted) public intellectuals. This book, in which the author details her relationship with Sontag, was both eye-opening and revelatory. Here was a woman who was fully aware of her wide-ranging literary and intellectual talents. Yet, she felt ch I first became aware of Susan Sontag the public intellectual/essayist/activist roughly 20 years ago. She intrigued me because, given the incipient strain of anti-intellectualism in the U.S., I didn't think we Americans had any publicly acknowledged (and accepted) public intellectuals. This book, in which the author details her relationship with Sontag, was both eye-opening and revelatory. Here was a woman who was fully aware of her wide-ranging literary and intellectual talents. Yet, she felt cheated and insecure because of what she said was "the lost decade" of her life. That is in reference to the decade before Sontag's first appearance in print, when she was a wife and mother. I was also surprised to learn, from the author, of Sontag's desire to be appreciated more for her fiction writing than as the superb essayist she was. Frankly, until Sontag's novel, "THE VOLCANO LOVER", I never thought she had ever dabbled in fiction. All in all, I enjoyed reading this book. It has whetted my appetite to learn more about Susan Sontag, the writer and the person.

  15. 4 out of 5

    Tina Tinde

    What an intimate and riveting portrait of the "mad scientist" that Susan Sontag appears to have been. I read her novel The Volcano Lover when it came out, but believe Nunez when she points out that Sontag's strength was as an essayist. As is often the case, brilliant people are not able to master all aspects of their life with the same brilliance. I laughed several times at the wit of Sigrid Nunes, and was very moved by some tragic sides to Sontag's life that Nunes described very sharply. A woma What an intimate and riveting portrait of the "mad scientist" that Susan Sontag appears to have been. I read her novel The Volcano Lover when it came out, but believe Nunez when she points out that Sontag's strength was as an essayist. As is often the case, brilliant people are not able to master all aspects of their life with the same brilliance. I laughed several times at the wit of Sigrid Nunes, and was very moved by some tragic sides to Sontag's life that Nunes described very sharply. A woman of stark contrasts and ardent passions, and perhaps with undiagnosed mental challenges, Sontag's behavior was as unconventional as they come, but were her talents for denial uncommon? I don't think so. I loved this observant memoir, read its 140 pages in one evening, as I couldn't stop.

  16. 4 out of 5

    Jan

    Susan Sontag was an important cultural figure for four decades and an inspiration for many women of the time. Sigrid Nunez, whose lovely novel, The Friend, deals with grief and writing, gives us a respectful and very restrained memoir about her experiences living with Sontag and her son, David Rieff, while Nunez and Rieff were romantically involved and Nunez was a not-yet-published writer. There's no voyeurism here, but as Nunez makes clear, Sontag was a piece of work--complex and conflicted, na Susan Sontag was an important cultural figure for four decades and an inspiration for many women of the time. Sigrid Nunez, whose lovely novel, The Friend, deals with grief and writing, gives us a respectful and very restrained memoir about her experiences living with Sontag and her son, David Rieff, while Nunez and Rieff were romantically involved and Nunez was a not-yet-published writer. There's no voyeurism here, but as Nunez makes clear, Sontag was a piece of work--complex and conflicted, narcissistic and neurotic as well as undeniably brilliant--a writer who couldn't bear solitude. I hope we'll someday have a full biography of Sontag, because this slim, fascinating book leaves me wanting more.

  17. 4 out of 5

    Kevin

    A really interesting balance of Sontag anecdotes and Nunez's own reflections of how Susan was in real life (Nunez dated Sontag's son for a long time and lived with them as well). I love Nunez's crisp, clear, and subtly funny way of writing about this interesting American treasure (who also seemed to be a pretty difficult person at times). A really interesting balance of Sontag anecdotes and Nunez's own reflections of how Susan was in real life (Nunez dated Sontag's son for a long time and lived with them as well). I love Nunez's crisp, clear, and subtly funny way of writing about this interesting American treasure (who also seemed to be a pretty difficult person at times).

  18. 5 out of 5

    Lynne

    A beautifully conceptualized and written, complex, kind, and smart memoir. A relationship that feels palpable, and Susan Sontag feels close. Brava to Sigrid Nunez, and thanks.

  19. 4 out of 5

    Amanda

    read this in one day, so elegant and beautiful

  20. 5 out of 5

    Elliot Ratzman

    Sontag is an intellectual’s intellectual: essayist queen, (meh) fiction writer, (bad) filmmaker—a torrent of taste-making. Reading about her small habits, her eccentricities, her anxieties and her faults—it’s like the central casting stereotype of “New York intellectual.” Nunez was Sontag’s assistant and then the girlfriend of her son, David Reiff, and lived with them on the Upper East Side in the mid-70s. It’s a fine portrait of good and bad behaviors, curious habits, artistic judgement, and ch Sontag is an intellectual’s intellectual: essayist queen, (meh) fiction writer, (bad) filmmaker—a torrent of taste-making. Reading about her small habits, her eccentricities, her anxieties and her faults—it’s like the central casting stereotype of “New York intellectual.” Nunez was Sontag’s assistant and then the girlfriend of her son, David Reiff, and lived with them on the Upper East Side in the mid-70s. It’s a fine portrait of good and bad behaviors, curious habits, artistic judgement, and charming conversations, and—besides the cigarettes—generates the desire to be part of that lost world, Sontag’s world. “She was so New York. An in her boosterism, in her energy and ambition, in her can-do, beat-whatever-the-odds spirit, in her childlike nature—and in her belief in her exceptionalism and in the power of her own will, in self-creation, and in the possibility of being reborn, the possibility of endless new chances, and of having it all—she was also the most American person I know.”

  21. 4 out of 5

    Aga

    I have always idealised what it would be like to be a writer, probably because I love books. Sempre Susan is a second book this year which showed me how imperfect and difficult writers’ life can be. Yet, I want to move in with Susan, just like Nunez, I want to be there and see Sontag’s creative process and listen to her...her wisdom, her view on everything, but also her bragging on about stuff, her philosophizing, mentoring, advice, outrage and criticism. I haven’t yet read anything by Sontag bu I have always idealised what it would be like to be a writer, probably because I love books. Sempre Susan is a second book this year which showed me how imperfect and difficult writers’ life can be. Yet, I want to move in with Susan, just like Nunez, I want to be there and see Sontag’s creative process and listen to her...her wisdom, her view on everything, but also her bragging on about stuff, her philosophizing, mentoring, advice, outrage and criticism. I haven’t yet read anything by Sontag but having read ‘Friend’ by Nunez I decided to read another of her books. Now I think it was a great idea, it will contextualise what I am going to read by Sontag. Aside that, I really like Nunez’ writing. It flows and grabs my attention immediately. She is intellectual in her books but not pretentious or pompous which sometimes goes hand in hand. Now onto Sontag’s works.

  22. 5 out of 5

    Aparna Kumar

    This was an interesting, quick read about Susan Sontag, especially to read it through the POV of someone who entered into her life in a super unconventional way. I haven't read much of her work (I've been taking my time with Against Interpretation and slowly cherrypicking essays to read) and she seems like a complicated person to have known in real life. But I feel like there's something to be said for artists/writers/filmmakers that are deified in intellectual circles to be re-characterized as This was an interesting, quick read about Susan Sontag, especially to read it through the POV of someone who entered into her life in a super unconventional way. I haven't read much of her work (I've been taking my time with Against Interpretation and slowly cherrypicking essays to read) and she seems like a complicated person to have known in real life. But I feel like there's something to be said for artists/writers/filmmakers that are deified in intellectual circles to be re-characterized as normal people with flaws. It's weird to picture this woman, one of the most influential writers of the last fifty years, regularly eating a whole package of bacon for dinner. I might not ever be able to write like Susan Sontag but at least I eat better than she did.

  23. 5 out of 5

    Monica

    Now, whenever the “Who would you have to dinner living or dead?” question comes up, I have my answer: Susan Sontag. And the other question this book answers is “If you could be someone other than yourself, who would you be?” Answer: Susan Sontag...& secret okay-ness with Sontag’s distaste for lazy thinking & love Sontag’s admiration for bold living...also recognize this huge personality comes with many flaws...but I don’t mind because feels like her malcontent moments were spot on & appropriate Now, whenever the “Who would you have to dinner living or dead?” question comes up, I have my answer: Susan Sontag. And the other question this book answers is “If you could be someone other than yourself, who would you be?” Answer: Susan Sontag...& secret okay-ness with Sontag’s distaste for lazy thinking & love Sontag’s admiration for bold living...also recognize this huge personality comes with many flaws...but I don’t mind because feels like her malcontent moments were spot on & appropriate to the context. What can I say? I’m in love.

  24. 5 out of 5

    Madeleine

    helpful weaving of the emotional proximity of living a writerly/readerly life, anxious to be alive

  25. 4 out of 5

    Natrila Femi

    As with another review of this book, this book made me do two things: 1) read more of Sontag's essay, and 2) read more of Nunez's works. As with another review of this book, this book made me do two things: 1) read more of Sontag's essay, and 2) read more of Nunez's works.

  26. 4 out of 5

    Tiff Gibbo

    A deconstruction in myth-making. If you come in a blind fan of the work of Sontag, it is unlikely you will leave this book feeling the same way. Sigrid, who knew Susan intimately for a number of years, picks apart the myths that have been perpetuated by an adoring audience from the truth of who Susan was. It's a cruel sort of eulogy for a woman who has no right of reply. As Nunez herself notes, many of the people she writes about within these pages are now dead. Sigrid's relationship with Susan, A deconstruction in myth-making. If you come in a blind fan of the work of Sontag, it is unlikely you will leave this book feeling the same way. Sigrid, who knew Susan intimately for a number of years, picks apart the myths that have been perpetuated by an adoring audience from the truth of who Susan was. It's a cruel sort of eulogy for a woman who has no right of reply. As Nunez herself notes, many of the people she writes about within these pages are now dead. Sigrid's relationship with Susan, who is a formidable woman, is often found in the layers of a sentence. Resentment is palpable in such statements as: "She was exasperated to find that the company of even very intelligent women was usually not as interesting as that of intelligent men." Here Sigrid implies Susan's own internalised misogyny, her Otherness from most women and her resonance more with men. Susan, you get the sense, is someone Sigrid endured. She says on page 33 that there is very little Susan did to inform her work later on. Sometimes, Sigrid's commentary veers towards caustic; one has the acute sense you've accidentally found yourself a bystander to a domestic squabble at certain points. In her own way, you can feel the admiration between the two women - Sigrid was informed, however begrudgingly, by the larger than life presence of Sontag. However, her view of Susan is scathing. Susan is a bully who needs whipping boys/girls in order to make her feel in control of her own chaos. Susan is a poseur at a Springsteen concert, far too old to be there, forcing fun. She paints a woman full of contradictions - harsh as a means of motivation, soft and sensitive when it came to herself. On the one hand, strong and stoic and solitary, but on the other, incapable of being left alone and in need of constant support and companionship. Sometimes, able to be completely void of classless concepts and a strong reverence for working class people - other times, irrationally combative with wait staff and service people to the point of abject cruelty. Quick to insult, quick to compliment. She also paints a woman who would make a fearsome mother in law - overbearing, domineering, critical and competitive, as well as territorial of her son. On page 50, the story of Barthes and his mother he lived with until the day she died, and Sontag's obvious admiration of this arrangement, gives Sigrid - and the reader - pause. When Sigrid then goes on to tell of the open speculation about Susan and her son, David's, relationship, things truly become disturbing. Peppered through the text, too, are moments of pure magic - a trip to New Orleans in which Sigrid is gifted a In the Winter of Cities by a handsome young man; Jean Genet turning up on Susan's doorstep, paranoid about the police; Joseph Brodsky the toothless curmudgeonly former-Soviet poet as consort; a Cocteau actress intent on cooking and jumping to wild conclusions as lesbian lover; awkward encounters with Edward Said. In conclusion, there is heart to the way Nunez portrays Sontag and, if fleshed out, this book could have been very special. It is too fragmentary, too one sided - just Nunez's sometimes clouded opinions of Sontag without much context onto Nunez's own life - to be truly worth a second read.

  27. 4 out of 5

    Ellie

    Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag is an absorbing memoir of Susan Sontag the brilliant essayist (although she would have preferred to be known for her novels, which were generally not well-received, except for the hugely popular The Volcano Lover: A Romance), I revere Sontag's writing and remember vividly reading Against Interpretation and Other Essays as well as Illness as Metaphor and On Photography. She is one of those authors I have read more than once and look forward to reading again. Sempre Susan: A Memoir of Susan Sontag is an absorbing memoir of Susan Sontag the brilliant essayist (although she would have preferred to be known for her novels, which were generally not well-received, except for the hugely popular The Volcano Lover: A Romance), I revere Sontag's writing and remember vividly reading Against Interpretation and Other Essays as well as Illness as Metaphor and On Photography. She is one of those authors I have read more than once and look forward to reading again. Sigrid Nunez, herself a successful author (of novels) writes beautifully of the time in her 20s when she lived in a somewhat unconventional situation: she and Sontag's son lived together with Sontag. They lived in New York City, the city itself a major player in Sontag's life (she had no interest in nature; she loved the urban). Sontag both mentored and bullied her and Nunez seems to remember this time with affection, fascination, and terror. Sontag emerges as a complex character; in many ways she is a monster. Unable to be alone, she is constantly surrounded by her many friends yet continues a self-pitying sense of abandonment. She considers herself the best of mothers who sacrificed the best years of her life to raising the son she often left in the care of others, once living in another country for a year. It is her relationship with her son that may be the most disturbing element in the memoir. She is intensely possessive and induces so much guilt in her son that he would rather have his girl friend live with them than "abandon" his mother by leaving home, even in his 30s. Despite her endless self-preoccupation and demands on others, Sontag was also fascinated by the stories of others, famous or not. She was intellectually brilliant and charismatic, out-sized in every way. She fought-and defeated-advanced cancer twice before succumbing to a third bout. She loved life ferociously and devoured experiences of every kind. Despite her many flaws, this memoir filled me with longing to live this woman's life, to have a personality as huge and mesmerizing as hers. The book is short but I had to take breaks several times to get away from the suffocating intensity of Sontag's presence. Nunez vividly evokes this complex woman who wrote some of the greatest essays ever. For anyone interested in Sontag, this is definitely required reading.

  28. 5 out of 5

    christa

    In mid-May Bob Dylan, then nearly to his 70th birthday, wrote something a little snarky on his website: "Everybody knows by now that there's a gazillion books on me either out or coming out in the near future. So I'm encouraging anybody who's ever met me, heard me or even seen me, to get in on the action and scribble their own book. You never know, somebody might have a great book in them." I couldn't stop thinking about this as I read one writer's memoir, using life with another writer as a trigg In mid-May Bob Dylan, then nearly to his 70th birthday, wrote something a little snarky on his website: "Everybody knows by now that there's a gazillion books on me either out or coming out in the near future. So I'm encouraging anybody who's ever met me, heard me or even seen me, to get in on the action and scribble their own book. You never know, somebody might have a great book in them." I couldn't stop thinking about this as I read one writer's memoir, using life with another writer as a trigger. Sigrid Nunez's short-shorty "Sempre Susan" is a memoir about essayist, feminist, prickly personality Susan Sontag. Nunez, herself a decently accomplished writer, has as much reason as anyone to write about Sontag: In 1976, when Nunez was in her mid-20s and recently graduated from Columbia's MFA program, she dated Sontag's son David Reiff. The three of them ended up living together for about a year, a scenario that had the lit community speculating about some twisted threesomes between the trio Sontag referred to as "the duke and duchess and duckling of Riverside Drive." Nunez had signed on to help Sontag catch up with her work after Sontag's first go-round with cancer. Ultimately, Sontag played matchmaker between Nunez and Reiff, who was very shy. Nunez paints Sontag as a lover of travel, who was always up for anything -- including a Bruce Springsteen concert amid an audience of much younger fans. She didn't work every day, but when she did it was at a drug-addled feverish pace. In the past, she'd had David assist her by lighting up cigarettes for her as she wrote. She hated to be alone and after a night on the town would wander into the room shared by Nunez and Reiff to deconstruct her evening. She took cabs everywhere and humiliated waitstaff. She was hugely complimentary of people, but also harsh about them. She couldn't keep a secret. She loved men and women. She hated makeup and did not carry a purse and made fun of Nunez for slipping a handful of tampons into her purse. She made diluted Cream of Mushroom soup from a can the first time she and Nunez worked together. Nunez writes this story at as a sort of stream of consciousness. As if she just plopped down in front of a computer and started writing and digressing and writing more. It hops from past to further past to recent past and back again. While it is really not at all about Nunez, occasionally something a bit biographical -- perhaps about her own parents -- will fall into the piece in a way that seems like maybe the material hadn't been sifted well enough. It is a sort of journalistic take on Sontag that shows plenty of sides to the woman, including this interesting character and the parts that would make her a terrifying person to spend time with. It's heavier on the latter, which is consistent with most reports about Sontag. But sometimes it's hard to find evidence to support that this was a mentor or any sort of inspiration to Nunez -- who concedes that while Sontag's essays are awesome, her fiction is meh.

  29. 5 out of 5

    Anthem Book Review

    My good friend and fellow writer and I decided to start a small book club and we chose, Sempre Susan by Sigrid Nunez as our first read. It is a short book at only 118 pages, but the powerful truth it reveals on Susan Sontag speaks volumes. Sigrid Nunez was an inspiring writer when she met and began working with Sontag. The two women formed an instant bond and Sontag becomes a mentor to Nunez and her influence is profound. Eventually Susan Sontag introduces Nunez to her son, fellow writer, David My good friend and fellow writer and I decided to start a small book club and we chose, Sempre Susan by Sigrid Nunez as our first read. It is a short book at only 118 pages, but the powerful truth it reveals on Susan Sontag speaks volumes. Sigrid Nunez was an inspiring writer when she met and began working with Sontag. The two women formed an instant bond and Sontag becomes a mentor to Nunez and her influence is profound. Eventually Susan Sontag introduces Nunez to her son, fellow writer, David Rieff. David and Sigrid begin dating and eventually together move into Susan Sontag’s home in New York City. The relationship between the three co-habitants is read as odd and at times seems plain uncomfortable for Nunez. Sontag and her son David Rieff have a very odd relationship. It is definitely not a typical mother/son relationship. Reading of the pair, it brought back memories of a book I read while in college by D.H Lawrence titled, Sons and Lovers. It was not a healthy parental bond, well, in a “normal” sense, at least. What is great about this small little gem of a book is that Nunez is so forthcoming in her details regarding Sontag. It is clear that she respects and looks up to her as a writer and brief stint as mother n law, but Nunez does not let this sway her writing and only focus on the good qualities. Instead she is honest in her writing and this truthful look at the life of an amazing woman writer makes the book a must read. It also shows that the intelligent, sophisticated Sontag is much like us all, complex, flawed and afraid. The one thing that perplexed me and I wondered why such a big detail of Sontag’s life would be absent from the book was that of Sontag and Annie Leibovitz’s relationship. I had read prior that Sontag and the famed photographer Leibovitz were lovers for years. The book ends on such a lovely, haunting note. Nunez retells a conversation between her and Sontag about a movie “Tokyo Story” and Sontag is clearly moved by a scene in the film, a scene that Nunez at first doesn’t get. After Susan Sontag has passed, she understands its profound meaning on Sontag and life in general…. “Isn’t life disappointing?” Kyoko “Yes, it is.” Noriko And with that, Yes, life is disappointing, but Sigrid Nunez’s memoir on Susan Sontag is anything but. I highly recommend this book for any writer or lover of the craft to read. It is honest to the bone and still such a lovely memoir on friendship, family and writing. for more information on Susan Sontag check out HBO they have a documentary titled, Regarding Susan Sontag. if you enjoyed this book review. check out my blog at www.anthembookreview.blogspot.com

  30. 5 out of 5

    David Guy

    I always thought of Susan Sontag as the most fearsome intellectual in America, if not on the face of the earth. With that wild shock of dark hair with its gray streak, she wrote books on a wide variety of subjects, “camp,” literary criticism, photography, her experience with cancer, AIDS, various social causes. She seemed to attend every cultural event in New York (my brother regularly saw her at the ballet) and the rumor was that, if you expressed an opinion about something and she didn’t agree I always thought of Susan Sontag as the most fearsome intellectual in America, if not on the face of the earth. With that wild shock of dark hair with its gray streak, she wrote books on a wide variety of subjects, “camp,” literary criticism, photography, her experience with cancer, AIDS, various social causes. She seemed to attend every cultural event in New York (my brother regularly saw her at the ballet) and the rumor was that, if you expressed an opinion about something and she didn’t agree, by God she came down with a hammer. I too wanted to be an intellectual, but I have to admit that, when I came across one of her ground-breaking works (often excerpted in the New York Review), I found them overwhelming, jammed with detail culled from her endless reading. I don’t want to say they were boring; maybe they were too much for my puny mind. The one thing of hers that I unequivocally loved was her tribute to Paul Goodman after he died, another withering, argumentative, never-to-be-satisfied intellectual (and where is his reputation today?). Even that piece seemed off the cuff, not really worked over. It was as if she had so much to do that she couldn’t deal with the niceties. My brother once told me that, when Sontag moved in New York, she had to find an apartment that would house her 10,000 books. Sigrid Nunez puts her eventual collection closer to 18,000, saying that Sontag hated to take books out of the library. Apparently. I have to say that this marvelous short memoir by Nunez somewhat humanized Sontag, explained some (though not all) of her idiosyncrasies, and made me, if not quite like, at least admire her, and almost feel sorry for her. Nunez’ work gives the same impression that Sontag’s does, of being off the top of her head. But she has an ordered mind, and things fall right into place. She is a much more modest writer than Sontag: she doesn’t give that feeling of This Is the Absolute Truth and You Better Believe It, Moron. More like: this is how things look to me. I love the way this woman writes. It invites you in rather than whacking you over the head. Nunez was working at the New York Review when she first encountered Sontag; she was 25 and Sontag 43, just recovering from breast cancer. Sontag hired Nunez to help with some work, but soon inquired about her dating status, then shamelessly matched her with her son, David Rieff, who lived with her. She invited Nunez over to do some work, introduced her to David, and said, You know, I don’t feel like working, let’s go out for a pizza. Soon the two had started dating, then began living together. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Except that they lived in the same apartment with Susan. That doesn’t sound so great. Sontag was famously attached to her son, had married when she was 17 and gave birth at 19; she treated him like a slightly younger friend, and he called her Susan (not Mommy). He lived with her into his adulthood. In fact (I know this sounds unbelievable but it’s in the book) a number of people assumed they were sexually involved and that when Sigrid moved in they had a menage a trois. Not so! Sigrid never had a three-way with Susan and her son. But sometimes at night, when Sontag came home from the movies (which she attended multiple times per week, always trying to get the center seat in the third row), she would come into the room where they were in bed (sleeping, I hope), and ask if they’d like to talk for a while. She needed some company. They’d all light up cigarettes and sit there talking. Sontag didn’t sleep much—she saw it as a waste of time[1]—and hated to be alone. How can a writer hate to be alone? And if she was alone, and had some free time, she always had her face in a book. She couldn’t stand to be doing nothing. She had to occupy her rapidly-moving mind. Hence the 18,000 books. She didn’t like to teach and wanted to make a living as a writer, but didn’t achieve financial security until her forties. She was often asked to lecture and took the dates—apparently for the money—but then wouldn’t prepare and would get into arguments with the audience in the Q&A. Sometimes, instead of lecturing, she whipped out a story to read; what she really wanted (as did Paul Goodman) was to be a fiction writer, but her fiction never sold until the end of her life, and her essays were what people wanted. It wasn’t just audience members that she treated badly. She snapped at waiters, hotel clerks, anyone who was waiting on her, even her friends. She expected to be treated like royalty, but she was a writer, for God’s sake. And one who, until the end of her life, had a rather small audience. She was a great worshiper, of beauty, great literature (mostly European, in her opinion), works of art. When she liked something she was over the top about it, even if it was a Katherine Hepburn doubleheader at the retro movie house. She was bisexual and had many lovers, including, I was somewhat startled to discover, Joseph Brodsky; she and Brodsky would sometimes double date with Sigrid and David. Now that sounds like a fun group. I personally think it’s unforgivable to treat a waiter or hotel clerk badly; in that she crossed a line. But my ultimate feeling about Sontag was that, though she had a great mind, she was like a little girl afraid of the dark, always wanting to be around people, to do something, read a book if nothing else; she’d go to movies though she’d seen them many times before. She couldn’t let things get still. The first time she got cancer her reaction was to write a book about it, and at the end of her life, according to Nunez, she was frightened of death to the point of insanity, because it seemed to be a state in which everything had stopped. No books to read, no movies to see. The thought terrified her. It terrifies me too, but one possible response to that is to try to get used to it, to face quiet and stillness now, when you’re alive. She never did that. She had to be doing something. There’s a new biography of Sontag out and it, like her own work, seems long and imposing. This book is slender and easy to read, even fun. I feel as if I know the woman, and don’t need to read more. Though a worthy addendum to Nunez’ book is this article, sent along by my brother. Talk about fun. https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v27/n... [1] She also saw her childhood as a waste of time. Talk about a strange opinion. Apparently she wanted to be an important intellectual from the get go. www.davidguy.org

Add a review

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Loading...
We use cookies to give you the best online experience. By using our website you agree to our use of cookies in accordance with our cookie policy.