What do You think about Them: A Memoir Of Parents (2006)?
Remarkable in its scope and historical sweep, this culturally rich memoir from Francine Du Plessix Gray focuses on the lives of her flamboyant mother Tatiana Yakoleva (the one-time mistress of Revolutionary poet Vladimir Mayakovsky) and her artistic step-father Alex Leiberman (Tatiana's second husband), as they make their journey from Paris to a busy life in New York where they will leave their mark on the world of fashion and art during the postwar fifties and sixties.During this time, Alex became editorial director at Conde Nast's Vogue magazine -- just the start of a life-long career with the magazine chain -- while Tatiana produced a line of glamorous millinery for Saks Fifth Avenue. Moving in their circle were the likes of Marlene Dietrich, Salvador Dali and Nabakov. Hugely ambitious, even calculating, the Liebermans forged a enviable lifestyle in New York and in their summer homes, but it was not without a price. As the neglected but psychologically insightful daughter, Francine Gray is part of this story and along with her parents successes, she also details the couple's obsessive, sometime neurotic behaviors, including parental lapses, not the least of which was Tatiana's failure to notify Francine of the death of her father (Bertrand Du Plessix) until well after the family had settled in New York. Stories like this usually do not end well and 'Them' is no exception. The title of this volume is an odd one -- so cold, unloving and unlike the family dynamic portrayed here. But perhaps it does suggest the author's sense that her parents' extravagant, self-centered, and driven lives sounded out with no resonance to her own. They were the intimate 'Other'.
—FrankH
Them is unlike any memoir I’ve ever read before. Part memoir, part biography, part research book, Gray transcends far beyond her own story to tell the rich tapestry of her family’s story. This endeavor can go awry in so many ways—you can’t write someone else’s memoir for them, and biography can often be dry. These pitfalls are avoided by subtle, yet important, inclusion of the narrator-character and writer into the story. Gray will comment about the source of the emotion or conversation she’s re-creating, one that she wasn’t alive to possibly hear. She’ll cite letters, the friend or relative she’s spoken to (along with a quick disclosure on their temperament toward the subject), or occasionally she’ll digress to tell us that she is conjecturing. This transparency builds trust with the reader, and allows us to cross those barriers of credentials to become immersed in these people’s lives. Her technique is fascinating, and one I’ve rarely seen before, at least successfully. Them is an incredible example of how memoir writing can move beyond one’s self.
—Tabitha Blankenbiller
From the Onion's Books of the Decade:In a decade marked by the memoirs of angry children determined to mine some authorial gold from their unhappy early lives, Du Plessix Gray’s chronicle of growing up as an immigrant in mid-century New York relates history rather than agony, building subtly toward judgment while still acknowledging a debt of gratitude. Francine’s mother and stepfather, Russian émigrés who fell in love in Paris while they were both married to other people, were artistic geniuses and unrepentant social climbers, too exhausted or indifferent to be proper parents. With her eye to the keyhole, Du Plessix Gray weaves her early recollections into a riveting biography of two strangers she happened to live with, balancing memories of their often-irrational behavior with a sparkling account of their talents as celebrated by the world.
—AJ Conroy
