Denise Bateman
Joseph Cooper
CRWR 212Y
May 5, 2014
The Book of Jon – Analysis
Eleni Sikelianos’ The Book of
Jon is a tribute to her father, a combination of her poems, open prose, and
journal entries that chronicle his life and his life’s impact upon his family. She
writes with astonishingly candid honesty about her father’s heroin addiction. As
a daughter of a father who fought his own battle with alcohol addiction, I
found this piece to be hauntingly heartbreaking in its raw, unapologetic remembrances.
I struggled to get through the book.
The theme of addiction, whether it be
narcotics or alcohol, is all too familiar to too many of us. wondered as I read
through the pages why Sikelianos’ chose to write about her father’s addiction.
Was it to help her make sense of her childhood? Was she trying to connect or
identify, perhaps resolve in some way, her father’s inability to choose his
family and health over a momentary drug-induced high? She seems to understand
her love for her father and his imperfections even in that “here you are, part
of a long, boring trend of absent fathers and junk-high assholes” (pg 7)
reflection. I believe her goal with The
Book of Jon was to recognize her own internal conflict with her father,
somehow giving herself permission to love this flawed man regardless of his addictions
and to forgive him for the harm he caused her and others. I believe all
daughters want to love their fathers. In the perfect world, in the hearts and
flowers world society paints for us, fathers should be loving, doting role
models for their daughters – someone who nurtures their child and provides
stability for them. When that is not the case, how does one reconcile the preconceived
notion of what a perfect father should be with the reality one ends up with in
real life? Sikelianos speaks of the childhood father she would have wanted to
have had on pages 32-33, musing that what she would have wanted would have been
a father that came to see her regularly, gave up his addiction and replaced it
with a regular job, nice home, and a future relationship with him in which she
can visit for holidays and reflect on good times from her childhood. But sadly,
as she confesses on page 8, she “has no hopes of you meeting grandchildren, or
seeing my sister live into adulthood”. Again, the theme of reflection, of
resolving the painful truth with the desired reality, permeates into her
writing.
I
believe by writing about the truth of her father’s addiction, Sikelianos’ not
only shows her deep affection for her father, but gives her readers
(particularly those who can identify with a love/hate relationship with a
father consumed by addiction) a reason to pause and reflect on their own
parent/child relationships.
Although the tone of her work is
sad and reflective throughout much of the work, Sikelianos’ descriptive
languages and use of some beautiful similes while describing times and settings
of her memories in her book give her readers much needed distraction from the
ugliness of addiction. On page eleven,
she describes the night skyline in Albuquerque as seen from a plane’s view as “lights
like shining asters melting at the edges”. Page 48 she describes time as “laid out in
dark gloppy hands, like black clumps of glistening seaweed stretching both
ways, forward and back”. Also on page 61
in “…winterfat bushes like chubby wicks scrubbing up the dirt”.
I found Sikelianos’ father’s
admission on page 49 that while traveling cross country with his current girlfriend
and most of his children from other women, regardless of the chaos with
fighting with his girlfriend and having heard his daughter, Eleni, admit that
she never really thought her father loved her, he felt that during that trip he
was “living his family dream” simply because everyone was all together. It’s a
heartbreaking scene simply because it makes you long for her father to have
been strong enough to have pulled himself out of his self-imposed addictive
darkness and actually lived that family dream, but yet, he was not able to do
so. Is it truly as Sikelianos says on page 8 that “there are factors, chemical
predisposition, habits, weaknesses of will” that prevents an addict to change?
The last chapter of her book was
very effective. She collects letters from her step-mother and siblings on their
own remembrances and dreams of her father after he had passed away. Interesting
to see how each had distinctively different, yet, almost each dream Joe is
still alive. There is a tone of spirituality about this…how each reader will
interpret this is greatly due I suppose to their own spiritual and religious
beliefs, but, in the most basic sense, it seems to speak to love transcending
death. Love is greater than death, and once a person has been a part of your
life, they remain, even after death. Sikelianos summarizes one opinion of our
life from Dante’s viewpoint, that we are only ghosts of our true self while on
earth and only find our complete self when he break free from this world (pg
106).
The most difficult part of the book
to read for me was the section on pages 100 – 101 when the writer speaks of the
material possessions in her father’s pockets on the day he passed away. In a
box in the top of my closet, I have such a collection from my own father.
Things he had in his wallet and work clothes pockets the day he died. There was
a pair of green dice that he always carried for luck, brought back from Korea
when he was in the army. A gold pocket watch that I gave him as a Christmas
gift when I was sixteen. Pictures in his wallet – one of me at age seven,
another from my high school graduation, and a picture of my mother and himself
from 1962 while they were still dating. A Red Cross blood donor’s card,
crumpled and well-used. In the end, do just a few things like this sum up a man’s
life? His desire for luck, family that loved him, time?
I think that Sikelianos did an
excellent job of capturing a daughter’s reflections on her father. She looked
at the imperfections of the man, attempted to analyze his life and his actions,
but ultimately concedes that while he may not have been the man nor father she
would have wanted, he was still her father, and loving him was never a
question.