Fuse - Hollay Ghadery
It has taken me a while to write up this review. First of all due to injury and surgery, but more importantly because I treasured this book so much that I wanted to make it more special than just a forgettable two-sentence social media post.
Fuse is a memoir written by Hollay Ghadery, a woman of biracial descent living in Canada, with a particular focus on the heritage from her Iranian father.
This cultural conundrum causes her to experience her upbringing as tumultuous and confined, culminating in a storm of traumatic emotions and mental health struggles.
“We all shatter differently, breaking away over time or all at once. The anger, pity, love, concern, I feel - the mourning - it's not uncommon. We disassemble our parents into pieces we can accept. We all disassemble each other.”
In a way the book felt to me like a steady growth of tension and mental health struggle throughout Ghadery’s youth, followed by the piece-by-piece dismantling of each layer as an adult, with a supportive husband and four treasured kids.
“You have this idea in your head that you are a terrible person because you have weaknesses, but you're wrong. You're strong. … You're not some f*ing project to me. I've always just seen you.”
As a result, not only do we get to experience her life and emotions in true memoir fashion, but, and this is rare in this genre, we also receive a well-crafted story arc that keeps us on our toes while reading. Add to that the wonderful lyrical writing - perhaps inspired by Ghadery's poetry - that's so suited to the inner monologue, and you've got a stunning book in your hands.
“When you're broken, sometimes the best way to hold yourself together is momentum. You just have to move, and keep moving until it comes naturally.”
I found myself in so many of her pages, ranging from her struggles with an eating disorder, family dysfunction, self-doubt, and so much more. She talks about OCD, alcohol, fitness, and then some.
“I learned to love living alone. I'd never again have to take out my contacts before I entered my own house, just to blur the mess made by people I lived with.”
It made me so sad to read about her worries of not being a good enough mother. Throughout these pages, a person with such a rich inner life appears, that her fears are rather doubtful!
“It's strange how my children come to me in the night, their small compact bodies sweating bad dreams; how they relax into my umbilical circumference, and I relax into theirs. It's strange how I'm an endless source of comfort for them and I've never been one for myself.”
Thank you for this wonderful memoir. It will stay with me for a long time to come.
