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According
to Martha Frankel, the title of her memoir Hats and Eyeglasses:
A Family Love Affair with Gambling came from a saying
that her uncle once used. When people lose badly at a game,
they feel as if they are on a sinking ship, where the only
things that float to the surface are hats and eyeglasses.
What she doesn't mention, however, is that hats and sunglasses
are the accessories that poker players sometimes wear to cover
their faces and hide their tells. Quite possibly, Frankel
is attempting to hide something herself.
The subtitle
of Frankel's memoir is a bit misleading. While the subject
of memoir is gambling, Frankel doesn't write much about her
parents, sister, or even extended family (related more by
gambling habits than blood). The story is bookended with poignant
tales of parental love and loss, and she peppers a few familial
details in the latter half of the book, focusing primarily
on those who taught her how to play or improve her game. For
the most part, however, her family gets little ink.
Instead,
it is Frankel's own addiction, not her family's, that takes
center stage. As she learns the game, she becomes increasingly
obsessed with it, opting to spend her days playing instead
of socializing with her friends and participating in the world
around her. At least, that's what she says. She still manages
to maintain a romantic relationship (she simply chooses not
to write about him) and keeps in regular contact with her
mother (who shares the same love of gambling). She also continues
to thrive at her day job as a journalist, jet-setting around
the country to interview celebrities such as Leonardo DiCaprio
and Anthony Hopkins.
She does,
however, spend a lot of time playing poker and making a decent
amount of money at it. A great deal of time is devoted to
her weekly poker game with a group of men, and she devotes
much of her time describing her development through them,
not to mention the conflicts of catching a friend cheating.
But even regarding the cheating, nobody seems to be out of
control—not even Frankel herself.
Instead,
the book has a breezy, somewhat bemused tone, as if Frankel
is telling a stranger her life story over cocktails, replete
with unimportant details. She devotes far too much time to
her wholly irrelevant sex life, and the incidental details—such
as an old family friend wiping a crumb from her lip and then
tasting it—are not only unnecessary but also occasionally
creepy.
After
a while, Frankel's blasé tone feels like a bluff—an
amusing façade that hides her tells. This is not to say that
Frankel is lying, however; the story lacks the drama of a
lie. More than anything, she seems out of her element. The
writing is oddly journalistic rather than confessional, as
if this were an overlong magazine article. Frankel switches
to present tense occasionally, sometimes refers to people
by their last names, and even introduces one person by adding
his screenwriting credits in parentheses. Yet, at the same
time, the book also seems highly conversational and a little
amateur in its narration, full of sentence fragments and sudden
breaks into inner monologue, as if trying to reconcile the
change in medium by writing awkward (and grammatically incorrect)
sentences.
Of course,
in every addiction tale, there is a rock bottom, and Frankel
reaches hers when she discovers online poker. Playing anonymously
online, Frankel realizes, is a completely different game,
and she begins bleeding money and distancing herself from
family and friends. She even attends a Gamblers Anonymous
meeting, where she is chastised for still playing her weekly
game with her poker buddies—something she still does
today. Addiction, she is reminded, is not something that can
be turned on and off.
Then
again, Frankel never actually says that she is addicted to
gambling, which is perhaps the most problematic aspect of
the book. Unlike most memoirs, Hats and Eyeglasses
isn't particularly confessional, and if she's not an addict
with a problem, this tale about obsession and recovery seems
to lack purpose. Frankel provides little insight on the game
that couldn't have been learned by watching an old episode
of Celebrity Poker Showdown, and she doesn't prove
herself to be any particular authority on addictive behavior.
Those who have struggled with similar problems may identify
with Frankel, but there doesn't seem to be much of a moral
to the story.
(April,
2008)
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