Unveiling Hidden Truths: Julie Marie Wade’s Riveting Journey in "Other People’s Mothers"
Reading Other People’s Mothers called to mind the dazzling experience of reading Rachel Cusk’s Outline trilogy. Wade’s approach differs, yes, in presenting a child’s view, more interiority, and clearer delineation than Cusk’s writing. But like Cusk’s fiction, it reminds us that we construct a self not only through our most intimate relationships but also through our random and sometimes fleeting encounters with fellow travelers.
Reading Other People’s Mothers of course sent me back, to the Dodge Caravans I crowded into as a kid, the low pile carpets in the finished basements where I unrolled my cold, shiny sleeping bag at the end of a row, the slatted lounge chairs where tan moms with lustrous pink lipstick gathered at the pool, and the theories I developed for why my own mother sat apart. It’s the kind of reading experience that makes one not only wish to keep reading, but also, start writing.
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