I was recently forced to re-read
chapter one of Tobias Wolff’s memoir, This
Boy’s Life, by a creative writing
instructor who, judging by his selection of the reading material, was a Tobias
Wolff protégée.
I found the first chapter of the
memoir just as disturbing as I did eight years ago when I read the book
for a local library book club. The memoir begins with the ten-year-old Tobias
riding on the freeway in a car driven by his mother while being passed by a
truck that lost its brakes. Soon, Mom and son arrive near the scene of the
deadly accident--the aftermath of the truck going off the cliff.
What would you expect a ten-year-old
to experience at the sight of this tragic scene? Shock, terror, sorrow at the
loss of human life? Apparently, the answer
is none of the above for young Tobias. The
ten-year-old immediately begins to scheme of a way to turn this tragedy into a
“souvenir opportunity” for himself, getting his mother to buy him several gifts
from a near-by store that he knows she cannot afford. So much for my naive belief that writers are sensitive
observers of the world around them.
Lecturing to the class, the childless
Tobias Wolff protégée argued that you “cannot hold a ten-year-old boy
accountable for such behavior.” Really? “Especially,”
he elaborated, “a ten-year-old with an abusive step-father.” In other words, it’s O.K. for mistreated
10-year-olds to become heartless manipulators and we can expect no more from
them!
This was quite contrary to the
feelings and opinions of the library book club members I heard eight years
ago. They were people like you and I—the
readers, the market—people who are not affiliated with Stanford’s creative
writing program, headed by Tobias Wolff.
Most book club members did not finish the memoir because they were so
disturbed by how a young Tobias got away with lying, cheating, scheming, and
stealing his way throughout his formative years. In the back of our minds we were probably all
wondering if that’s also how he became a successful author and academic as an
adult. If that’s the case, then who needs good parenting? Should I be raising
my kids to be sociopaths so that they can assume prestigious titles and
positions in life?
I know someone who claims to be
Tobias Wolff’s neighbor—although she admits that the author probably wouldn’t
recognize her. Obviously, she recognizes
him when she sees him walking down the street, because she likes to brag about how
the author’s pooch goes crazy at the sight of her dog. Personally, I would not want to cross the
man’s path. Yes, I am afraid of Tobias
Wolff!
So that’s it for my awkwardly-phrased,
politically-incorrect post, possibly with typos. For the elegant, beautifully-written prose of
disturbing people and events, consult Tobias Wolff’s self-aggrandizing work.
