Horror Stories
A Memoir
(Sprache: Englisch)
The two-time Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter behind the groundbreaking album Exile in Guyville traces her life and career in a genre-bending memoir in stories about the pivotal moments that haunt her.
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The two-time Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter behind the groundbreaking album Exile in Guyville traces her life and career in a genre-bending memoir in stories about the pivotal moments that haunt her.Honest, original and absolutely remarkable. NPR (Best Books of the Year)
When Liz Phair shook things up with her musical debut, Exile in Guyville making her as much a cultural figure as a feminist pioneer and rock star her raw candor, uncompromising authenticity, and deft storytelling inspired a legion of critics, songwriters, musicians, and fans alike. Now, like a Gen X Patti Smith, Liz Phair reflects on the path she has taken in these piercing essays that reveal the indelible memories that have stayed with her.
For Phair, horror is in the eye of the beholder in the often unrecognized universal experiences of daily pain, guilt, and fear that make up our humanity. Illuminating despair with hope and consolation, tempering it all with her signature wit, Horror Stories is immersive, taking readers inside the most intimate junctures of Phair s life, from facing her own bad behavior and the repercussions of betraying her fundamental values, to watching her beloved grandmother inevitably fade, to undergoing the beauty of childbirth while being hit up for an autograph by the anesthesiologist.
Horror Stories is a literary accomplishment that reads like the confessions of a friend. It gathers up all of our isolated shames and draws them out into the light, uniting us in our shared imperfection, our uncertainty and our cowardice, smashing the stigma of not being in control. But most importantly, the uncompromising precision and candor of Horror Stories transforms these deeply personal experiences into tales about each and every one of us.
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OneShe Lies
We left her there. That s the part that haunts me. We saw her need, and we ignored it. The bathroom was crowded. It was hot. I was waiting for my turn at the mirror to put on lipstick. I don t know why I only see the scene from two angles: looking down out of the corner of my eye while I do my makeup, and waiting with my back against the wall for my friends to finish washing their hands.
I don t know if she was a blonde, a brunette, or a redhead. I know that she was at the party. I think she was wearing an olive-green jacket, but actually, I might have made up that detail. I seem to be assembling her outfit partially from fact and partially from fiction, as if I m trying to dress her the way I used to dress my old Barbie dolls, make her look presentable, give her that dignity. My conscience is a fantastic prosecutor. After so many years, only the damning evidence remains. I was there. I saw it. I did nothing.
Fear is an exhausting emotion, and I was scared so often that first semester in college. It was overwhelming trying to find my classrooms in a maze of unfamiliar buildings. I was afraid to ask the other students what the professor meant when she said our reading was reserved in the library. I was too scared to use my zip card in the cafeteria line, in case there was a trick to it. Trying to look like I knew what I was doing was my constant priority.
Looking back, I feel compassion for my younger self. I was just trying to get by. I was only eighteen, and my brain was still forming. I have to have something to say to the jury in my defense. The truth is, I was happy that night. I had met some girls I liked, finally. They all knew one another from a private school in Manhattan. They smoked clove cigarettes and smelled like patchouli. They had boyfriends and were trying to set me up with a guy from their group. One by one, they each took me aside and whispered something nice he d said about me. They raised their eyebrows when they spoke
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about him, like I was lucky.
He wasn t my type. He was okay. I went to a movie with him a week later, and we sat silently in the theater waiting for the lights to dim, having nothing to say to each other just breathing slowly, acutely aware of the proximity of our limbs. He was nervous, I remember, because he blurted out, If you d ever hit somebody over the head with a baseball bat, you d never forget it. I agreed.
I ve linked these memories together because, after I turned down the chance to be his girlfriend, my new friends looked for someone else to fill the vacancy and round out the octet. I didn t see them much after that, which was probably for the best. Though we never discussed the girl in the restroom, I blamed them for not taking responsibility just as much as I blamed myself. How could we, how could any of us who were there, have turned a blind eye to what was happening? We can be monsters, we human beings, in the most offhand and cavalier ways.
It reminds me of those sociological experiments that expose how fundamental cruelty is to the establishment of society. A family, a clan, a nation, can t be described without drawing a line around those who are included and leaving others outside the boundary. When researchers ask a group of students to single out and ostracize a member of their pack, someone always brings up William Golding s Lord of the Flies, that story of shipwrecked children who devolve into a primitive tribe. But the shunning instinct doesn t require isolation on a desert island or captivity in a science lab to find expression. It s much, much closer at hand. Scratch the right tender spot and people turn savage.
It s instinct, and that s that. Not everyone regrets the unkind things they do. Guilt is the poisonous flower that springs up after a selfish act. In order to grow, there
He wasn t my type. He was okay. I went to a movie with him a week later, and we sat silently in the theater waiting for the lights to dim, having nothing to say to each other just breathing slowly, acutely aware of the proximity of our limbs. He was nervous, I remember, because he blurted out, If you d ever hit somebody over the head with a baseball bat, you d never forget it. I agreed.
I ve linked these memories together because, after I turned down the chance to be his girlfriend, my new friends looked for someone else to fill the vacancy and round out the octet. I didn t see them much after that, which was probably for the best. Though we never discussed the girl in the restroom, I blamed them for not taking responsibility just as much as I blamed myself. How could we, how could any of us who were there, have turned a blind eye to what was happening? We can be monsters, we human beings, in the most offhand and cavalier ways.
It reminds me of those sociological experiments that expose how fundamental cruelty is to the establishment of society. A family, a clan, a nation, can t be described without drawing a line around those who are included and leaving others outside the boundary. When researchers ask a group of students to single out and ostracize a member of their pack, someone always brings up William Golding s Lord of the Flies, that story of shipwrecked children who devolve into a primitive tribe. But the shunning instinct doesn t require isolation on a desert island or captivity in a science lab to find expression. It s much, much closer at hand. Scratch the right tender spot and people turn savage.
It s instinct, and that s that. Not everyone regrets the unkind things they do. Guilt is the poisonous flower that springs up after a selfish act. In order to grow, there
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Autoren-Porträt von Liz Phair
Liz Phair is a Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter whose debut album, Exile in Guyville, has been hailed as a landmark of indie rock. She began her career in the early 1990s in Chicago by self-releasing audiocassettes under the name Girly-Sound. The intense response to these early tracks led to Phair s signing with the independent record label Matador Records. She has been a recording artist and touring performer for over twenty-five years, paving the way for countless music artists, particularly women, who cite her among their major influences. Phair is also a visual artist who majored in studio art and art history at Oberlin College. Her writing has appeared in The New York Times and The Atlantic. Horror Stories is her first book.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Liz Phair
- 2021, 288 Seiten, mit Schwarz-Weiß-Abbildungen, Maße: 13,1 x 20,3 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Random House Trade Paperbacks
- ISBN-10: 0525512004
- ISBN-13: 9780525512004
- Erscheinungsdatum: 24.03.2021
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Honest, original and absolutely remarkable . . . elegant but unpretentious writing . . . There are so many things to admire about Horror Stories, it s hard to list them all. It s a memoir with an original and fascinating structure. [Phair] mostly avoids writing about her own songs, and while this may seem to be an odd choice, it s actually quite refreshing her music, she seems to indicate, can speak for itself. NPR[A] uniquely thoughtful, self-aware memoir . . . bracing and refreshing . . . Horror Stories is more an archipelago of intense episodes of unknowing with the implicit understanding that life is a wayward, unresolvable business. . . . [A] rigorously open exploration of negative capability. The New York Times
Like a batch of interrelated Phair songs, each chapter a separate and specific story, all together accumulating into an intimate self-portrait . . . with equal parts elegance, humor, and authenticity. The Boston Globe
Liz Phair s songwriting has always had the rare quality of being short-story-like. Damn good short stories, too. Horror Stories has that unique Liz Phair ability to make you look at something you d rather not, but once you do you re glad you did like any form of honest art. This is why Liz Phair still is, and always will be, a threat. Ben Folds
Horror Stories cracks open the idea of fear itself to see what's inside. Liz Phair s stories are heartbreaking and inspiring, galvanizing and contemplative. This memoir is as much about the poignant luminosity of the subjects upon which Phair fixes her gaze as it is about the darkness she shows us. Witnessing her examine the moments that have stayed with her over the years is captivating: a literary triumph by a musical icon. Lily Brooks-Dalton, author of Good Morning, Midnight
Horror Stories is a collection of turning points, plucked free of ongoing time and their original settings. Gathered, they sparkle
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eerily, expanding to occupy an entire remembered year maybe even an entire remembered self. Sarah Manguso, author of Ongoingness: The End of a Diary
Liz Phair s Horror Stories is a deeply personal narrative about a groundbreaking musician s intense love affair with life, with all its turbulent highs and lows. It is also about those things that have sustained Phair since childhood: the wonder and healing power of nature, music, and family. A compelling blend of riveting prose and soaring lyricism, Horror Stories is as enthralling and as addictive as Phair's music. Mira Bartók, New York Times bestselling author of The Memory Palace, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award
A debut memoir as candid as her music . . . This powerful debut will delight Phair s many fans. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Liz Phair s Horror Stories is a deeply personal narrative about a groundbreaking musician s intense love affair with life, with all its turbulent highs and lows. It is also about those things that have sustained Phair since childhood: the wonder and healing power of nature, music, and family. A compelling blend of riveting prose and soaring lyricism, Horror Stories is as enthralling and as addictive as Phair's music. Mira Bartók, New York Times bestselling author of The Memory Palace, winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award
A debut memoir as candid as her music . . . This powerful debut will delight Phair s many fans. Publishers Weekly (starred review)
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