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A strange,
touching, uneven and charming memoir by one of indie rock's
preeminent musicians, Things the Grandchildren Should Know
chronicles the life of Mark Oliver Everett, also known as
E, or Mr. E, frontman of EELS. Although the book is not as
highly detailed as some readers may like and Everett likes
to change tenses suddenly, Things the Grandchildren Should
Know is a worthwhile and interesting memoir that provides
insight into not only Mark Everett but an entire generation
of misanthropic optimists.
Dramatically
beginning with the night he considered suicide at 19, Everett
veers off into how he got here. Via the routine 1960s and
70s childhood right out of Rick Moody's The Ice Storm—aloof
father, strange mother, dangerous microwave, swingers, and
a pool in the middle of the house—Everett finds himself
a smart, depressed teen with no motivation.
The title
comes from a song from one of his recent albums, Blinking
Lights and Other Revelations, and Everett relates a story
in the book about an interview he gave in Paris. The interviewer
asks him if he has any children and he replies, "I'm gonna
go straight to grandchildren," which completely baffles the
reporter. Surely Everett must be used to being misunderstood
by now. The record industry has been baffled by his entire
career. After the success of EELS' first album Beautiful
Freak, E produced an album that centered on his sister's
suicide and his mother's cancer. Although many people will
agree now that Electro-shock Blues is a beautiful and
compelling album, it was clearly not as commercial-sounding
as Freak. With each new release, he proves the record
industry wrong by selling CDs and getting critical acclaim,
and then he dives into new musical territory. His struggles
with record execs are well-represented in the book.
Things
is written in a highly conversational style, which will probably
charm most readers, especially those who are fans of E's work.
In fact, it's so conversational that he directly addresses
the reader at several points, usually to tell the reader that
he knows he's doing something that's maybe not quite literary—such
as changing tense, or not using very descriptive language—but
he's going to do it anyway. This is how E lets the reader
know that, yes, he could do these things, but he chooses not
to—perhaps an unconventional choice for most memoirists,
but a perfectly sensible one for someone whose albums sound
so radically different from one to the next.
To say
that E faced some challenges in life would be a bit of an
understatement. Hyper-intelligent but unmotivated, he barely
graduated from high school. Crushing shyness made dating difficult.
Luckily, his older sister Liz allowed him to hang around with
her friends, and he played drums in bands with older kids
throughout middle school and high school. But then Liz's depression
and drug use put a strain on their relationship. He was the
one to find his father dead of a heart attack at age 52 and
realized that picking up his dead body was one of the few
times he had touched his father. Just before the release of
EELS' first album, Beautiful Freak, Liz killed herself,
and shortly after his mother was diagnosed with cancer. The
chapters about caring for his mother while touring are heartbreaking
and sad.
Although
Everett seems to have no problem discussing the feelings and
emotions brought up by various events in his life, he shies
away from using the word "depression" in relation to himself.
Despair, hopelessness—the synonyms come up quite often,
but it's as if he's keeping a boundary between this and the
reader, and maybe himself. He starts off with his considering
driving off a bridge in a 71 Nova (a super-cool car if there
ever was one), but never fully divulges what brought him to
that place or what made him stop. He also tells us that he
still thinks about suicide, but it's no longer in the dramatic
fashion of his youth. The cars and guns have been replaced
by pills. As he notes himself, "That dramatic stuff is for
kids. I'm mature now."
Things
the Grandchildren Should Know is artfully gripping, strange
and familiar, much like Everett's music. Readers interested
in the music industry, depression, and family dynamics will
easily identify with Everett's life.
(November,
2008)
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