Unveiling the Fractured Self: Nina B. Lichtenstein’s Body Tells a Story Beyond Skin Deep
In “Belly,” Lichtenstein takes her children to Norway to care for her father as he recovers from lung cancer surgery in 2005. And then in “Heart,” she shares her heartbreak when he dies eight years after the surgery and the bittersweet experience of scattering his ashes in their beloved Norwegian Sea. A father’s presence and absence is a theme I return to in my writing and appreciate in others’ stories, as my father died when he was 48 and I was 20, and now I’m older than he got to be.
Even though the content is organized by body part rather than chronology, Lichtenstein’s story is cohesive and whole. Though we look through the lens of a part, we see a life well lived. She navigates growing up, going through a divorce, and growing more comfortable with herself. Parts that function as a whole are a privilege to be appreciated. Rather than worry about body parts failing and giving out, Lichtenstein shows by example that our relationship to our parts changes over time, and can be used to re-member:
