Essay: On why we enjoy memoirs

Britney Spears’ memoir too was all set to hit the bookshelves later this year until it was put on hold by the publishers after they received “strongly worded legal letters” from several A-listers. Apparently, the troubled pop star had written at length about her conservatorship, her mental breakdown, the moment she shaved her head, which caused a media frenzy in the late aughts, her marriages and about, according to Hola magazine, “past relationships with actors and people from the music world”.

But what is it like to write a memoir? When an author revisits a past experience, are they likely to find closure? Or can it bring back unpleasant memories? Mehezabin Dordi, Clinical Psychologist, Sir HN Reliance Foundation Hospital, says: “Revisiting past events and reflecting on them can be therapeutic and also aid the author in self-discovery.” She believes memoir writing can be empowering. “Memoirs help authors heal from past wounds, reclaim their narrative, and give them agency over their past,” she says. This possibly rings true in the case of Spears, who might have felt helpless during her conservatorship but is now regaining control over her life by sharing her side of the story, thus transforming her pain into something more meaningful.

Revisiting traumatic events

But reprocessing unpleasant experiences can also be triggering for some. “It all depends on where the author is on their healing journey,” says Dordi. Given the personal nature of memoir writing, the answer varies from person to person. But how do memoirs affect readers? “Memoirs not only offer a feeling of validation and connection to readers but also comfort them and give them a sense of belonging,” she says. There are downsides too: “Sometimes, reading memoirs can lead to the reawakening of past trauma and emotional stressors in the reader. They might find themselves falling short of the achievements and emotional resilience shown by the author, which can lead to an unfair comparison. The reader must not overlook the overall complexity and the nuances of the author’s life, and also keep in mind the cultural and social context while comparing their situation with the author’s.”

Navigating toxic families

In the Indian context, memoirs that are frank and unusually brave about topics like abuse, trauma, family rifts and betrayal, and mental well being can have a powerful impact on readers as these subjects are rarely discussed. In Open Book: Not Quite a Memoir, actor Kubbra Sait opens up about her relationship with her father who struggled with what seems like a gambling addiction. “I learnt that my father had changed six jobs in seven years, over-written checks, dumped us under a debris of loans and gambled our money away under the pretext of having a good time,” she said at the Spoken Fest in 2017.

In her memoir, she writes about establishing firm boundaries with her father. At 17, she asked him to “leave and never come back” after she realised he wasn’t willing to change. But she has forgiven him since. “Forgiveness isn’t something we do for others. In the truest sense, we do it for ourselves. I did it for me,” she said in an interview with Grazia magazine, adding that she has accepted that her father wasn’t raised to fulfill her expectations. In a country where those who choose to walk away from abusive families are often shamed, these aspects of Sait’s story provide some solace to individuals caught up in toxic struggles with difficult parents. Her memoir also focuses on the abuse she suffered at the hands of “Mr X”, who befriended her parents and helped them out monetarily. “X was married and had a child. In the two-and-a-half years that he sexually abused me, he went on to father another child. All the while telling me how much he loved me and that if I told my family or Mumma about us, it would destroy us. I believed every word he said. Looking back today, if I am to be completely honest, I don’t know if I would’ve done anything differently had I been dealt the same cards,” she writes in her memoir. In a society that prefers to be silent even about the most egregious abuse, Sait fell in with the prevailing norms and stayed silent about what was happening to her. That is until she wrote Open Book, a memoir that’s unusually frank for an Indian celebrity.

Destigmatizing Mental Illness

While things might be changing, as Sait’s book shows, brutally honest memoirs are a rarity among Bollywood’s older generation. Certainly, few stars have written anything as candid as Kabir Bedi’s Stories I Must Tell: The Emotional Life of an Actor. The chapter on his son Siddharth Bedi’s suicide in 1997 is almost too painful to read. Bedi writes that Siddharth tried to fight his schizophrenia but in the end, “he chose to go”. The star of such international hits as Sandokan talks about the challenges faced by the families of those struggling with mental illness. “The family suffers as much as the person [who is ill]. No matter what, the family should not stop loving the person. On a subconscious level, the person who is suffering continues to receive that love and is nourished by it,” he says.

He also touches on the pain and insecurities that came with the open marriage he shared with his former wife the dancer Protima Bedi and provides an insight into his girlfriend Parveen Babi’s deteriorating mental health during a trip to Italy. “Parveen knew she had a problem but she wouldn’t admit it to herself. Because admitting it to herself would mean allowing doctors into her life, which would mean doctors would talk [to others]. She could be an outcast in the industry,” he said in an interview with Bollywood Hungama. Kabir Bedi’s memoir stands out for its honesty and its sensitive exploration of difficult marriages, family troubles, and mental health issues, all still taboo topics in Indian society, which generally prefers to brush everything under the carpet.

Reclaiming The Narrative

Lately, memoirs by Indian writers have also been giving a voice to the marginalized. Vivek Tejuja, author, So Now You Know: A Memoir of Growing Up Gay in India says that, after the memoir was published, he got lots of messages from people who related to his story. “It is not easy to grow up with identity and gender crises. It is extremely traumatic and needs support and comfort at every step. I hope my book continues to provide that,” says Tejuja. The book also looks at the impact of popular culture on how an individual perceives their identity. Watching Mast Kalandar (1991) that featured Anupam Kher as a stereotypical gay character, Pinku, Tejuja realized he didn’t want to be Pinku. So he tried to walk differently, gesticulate differently, and speak in as gruff a voice as he could — all to avoid being Pinku. “I hope it [the memoir] validates the struggles of the LGBTQ+ community and helps them know that they are never alone in this struggle,” he says.

Tejuja wants more people from marginalized communities to write their memoirs. “It’s important to see who is writing the story because of the influence that they could have on readers’ lives, and because they could make others want to know more about particular communities and how they live”.

Was writing the memoir a therapeutic experience?

“It was cathartic for sure to revisit memories, but it was not therapeutic,” he says adding that the process did not help him discover anything new. “But it certainly made me go back and relook at how I was, how the culture was back then, and how it is now; so the comparison helped. Writing the book helped me find myself to some extent, and also drop some pieces of me that were not needed, like certain relationships”.

The search for validation

Author Manish Gaekwad’s The Last Courtesan: Writing My Mother’s Memoir, narrates the story of Rekhabai, a member of the Kanjarbhat tribe of Pune, who was sold and trained as a nautch girl. Through his memoir, Gaekwad gives a face and dignity to the many nameless women of Kamathipura and their difficult stories. “My mother was not a body of shame for me. I didn’t feel ashamed of my mother or her identity. Yes, the outsiders did all that [pass unsavoury comments] but I never brought them home. One builds a strong wall of emotional resilience around them over time,” says Gaekwad. “Perhaps, my mother passed on her resilience to me. One acknowledges that it [shaming and harassment] happened but one cannot fight it because there are just too many [people] to fight.”

He reveals that, as the children of women from Kamathipura take on the roles of taxi drivers, store salesmen and other professionals, they often feel a sense of shame and guilt about their origins. “When I went to Calcutta and tried to speak to some people whom I knew, they completely shunned me. They have moved to a life where their past doesn’t come up in conversations. They were ashamed to talk about it. They didn’t understand that I was trying to celebrate it [the past], not bring shame to it,” says the former journalist who believes his childhood companions might actually feel validated if they ever do read his memoir. “All it takes is one person to stand up and say ‘Hey — it is not that bad’.”

Too many celebrity voices?

Despite the many rewards of writing and reading memoirs, the most popular examples of this genre continue to be celebrity tell-alls. But this doesn’t have to be a given. Gaekwad thinks publishers should commission books by a more diverse set of authors. “Right now, it is an unhealthy balance. Celebrity memoirs are heard more and marketed better so their sales are better. It is time this changed,” he says. Tejuja, however, thinks it’s the story that matters. “If by reading their stories, people are encouraged to talk about their own struggles, then that’s a good thing. It’s important to read memoirs written by anyone. An introduction to a life different to yours – it’s a privilege and an honour to encounter that in the pages of books,” he says.

One thing is certain, we enjoy reading first person accounts about life and its many unpredictable twists and turns. Memoirs offer us an insight into different ways of thinking and being and give us an idea of how those ways might be applied to our own lives. Perhaps that’s why it continues to be a popular genre.

Deepansh Duggal writes on art and culture. He tweets at Deepansh75.

Revisiting the past and producing a personal account of one’s experiences can be therapeutic for the author just as reading these accounts can be cathartic for the readers who, perhaps, have been through similar experiences. The memoir exists in the sweet spot between autobiographies and journals, and remains an immensely popular literary genre, with sales growing by 26% in 2021 according to research and analytics group WordsRated. Prince Harry’s memoir Spare, which divulged the long-kept secrets of the British monarchy and discussed the effect of his mother Diana’s death on the author’s mental health, saw record-breaking sales earlier this year. The revelations, which came immediately after a controversial Netflix documentary, made Spare a best seller with 1.43 million copies sold in the US, Canada and Britain.

Britney Spears’ memoir too was all set to hit the bookshelves later this year until it was put on hold by the publishers after they received “strongly worded legal letters” from several A-listers. Apparently, the troubled pop star had written at length about her conservatorship, her mental breakdown, the moment she shaved her head, which caused a media frenzy in the late aughts, her marriages and about, according to Hola magazine, “past relationships with actors and people from the music world”.

But what is it like to write a memoir? When an author revisits a past experience, are they likely to find closure? Or can it bring back unpleasant memories? Mehezabin Dordi, Clinical Psychologist, Sir HN Reliance Foundation Hospital, says: “Revisiting past events and reflecting on them can be therapeutic and also aid the author in self-discovery.” She believes memoir writing can be empowering. “Memoirs help authors heal from past wounds, reclaim their narrative, and give them agency over their past,” she says. This possibly rings true in the case of Spears, who might have felt helpless during her conservatorship but is now regaining control over her life by sharing her side of the story, thus transforming her pain into something more meaningful.

Revisiting traumatic events

But reprocessing unpleasant experiences can also be triggering for some. “It all depends on where the author is on their healing journey,” says Dordi. Given the personal nature of memoir writing, the answer varies from person to person. But how do memoirs affect readers? “Memoirs not only offer a feeling of validation and connection to readers but also comfort them and give them a sense of belonging,” she says. There are downsides too: “Sometimes, reading memoirs can lead to the reawakening of past trauma and emotional stressors in the reader. They might find themselves falling short of the achievements and emotional resilience shown by the author, which can lead to an unfair comparison. The reader must not overlook the overall complexity and the nuances of the author’s life, and also keep in mind the cultural and social context while comparing their situation with the author’s.”

Navigating toxic families

In the Indian context, memoirs that are frank and unusually brave about topics like abuse, trauma, family rifts and betrayal, and mental well being can have a powerful impact on readers as these subjects are rarely discussed. In Open Book: Not Quite a Memoir, actor Kubbra Sait opens up about her relationship with her father who struggled with what seems like a gambling addiction. “I learnt that my father had changed six jobs in seven years, over-written checks, dumped us under a debris of loans and gambled our money away under the pretext of having a good time,” she said at the Spoken Fest in 2017.

In her memoir, she writes about establishing firm boundaries with her father. At 17, she asked him to “leave and never come back” after she realised he wasn’t willing to change. But she has forgiven him since. “Forgiveness isn’t something we do for others. In the truest sense, we do it for ourselves. I did it for me,” she said in an interview with Grazia magazine, adding that she has accepted that her father wasn’t raised to fulfill her expectations. In a country where those who choose to walk away from abusive families are often shamed, these aspects of Sait’s story provide some solace to individuals caught up in toxic struggles with difficult parents. Her memoir also focuses on the abuse she suffered at the hands of “Mr X”, who befriended her parents and helped them out monetarily. “X was married and had a child. In the two-and-a-half years that he sexually abused me, he went on to father another child. All the while telling me how much he loved me and that if I told my family or Mumma about us, it would destroy us. I believed every word he said. Looking back today, if I am to be completely honest, I don’t know if I would’ve done anything differently had I been dealt the same cards,” she writes in her memoir. In a society that prefers to be silent even about the most egregious abuse, Sait fell in with the prevailing norms and stayed silent about what was happening to her. That is until she wrote Open Book, a memoir that’s unusually frank for an Indian celebrity.

Destigmatizing Mental Illness

While things might be changing, as Sait’s book shows, brutally honest memoirs are a rarity among Bollywood’s older generation. Certainly, few stars have written anything as candid as Kabir Bedi’s Stories I Must Tell: The Emotional Life of an Actor. The chapter on his son Siddharth Bedi’s suicide in 1997 is almost too painful to read. Bedi writes that Siddharth tried to fight his schizophrenia but in the end, “he chose to go”. The star of such international hits as Sandokan talks about the challenges faced by the families of those struggling with mental illness. “The family suffers as much as the person [who is ill]. No matter what, the family should not stop loving the person. On a subconscious level, the person who is suffering continues to receive that love and is nourished by it,” he says.

He also touches on the pain and insecurities that came with the open marriage he shared with his former wife the dancer Protima Bedi and provides an insight into his girlfriend Parveen Babi’s deteriorating mental health during a trip to Italy. “Parveen knew she had a problem but she wouldn’t admit it to herself. Because admitting it to herself would mean allowing doctors into her life, which would mean doctors would talk [to others]. She could be an outcast in the industry,” he said in an interview with Bollywood Hungama. Kabir Bedi’s memoir stands out for its honesty and its sensitive exploration of difficult marriages, family troubles, and mental health issues, all still taboo topics in Indian society, which generally prefers to brush everything under the carpet.

Reclaiming The Narrative

Lately, memoirs by Indian writers have also been giving a voice to the marginalized. Vivek Tejuja, author, So Now You Know: A Memoir of Growing Up Gay in India says that, after the memoir was published, he got lots of messages from people who related to his story. “It is not easy to grow up with identity and gender crises. It is extremely traumatic and needs support and comfort at every step. I hope my book continues to provide that,” says Tejuja. The book also looks at the impact of popular culture on how an individual perceives their identity. Watching Mast Kalandar (1991) that featured Anupam Kher as a stereotypical gay character, Pinku, Tejuja realized he didn’t want to be Pinku. So he tried to walk differently, gesticulate differently, and speak in as gruff a voice as he could — all to avoid being Pinku. “I hope it [the memoir] validates the struggles of the LGBTQ+ community and helps them know that they are never alone in this struggle,” he says.

Tejuja wants more people from marginalized communities to write their memoirs. “It’s important to see who is writing the story because of the influence that they could have on readers’ lives, and because they could make others want to know more about particular communities and how they live”.

Was writing the memoir a therapeutic experience?

“It was cathartic for sure to revisit memories, but it was not therapeutic,” he says adding that the process did not help him discover anything new. “But it certainly made me go back and relook at how I was, how the culture was back then, and how it is now; so the comparison helped. Writing the book helped me find myself to some extent, and also drop some pieces of me that were not needed, like certain relationships”.

The search for validation

Author Manish Gaekwad’s The Last Courtesan: Writing My Mother’s Memoir, narrates the story of Rekhabai, a member of the Kanjarbhat tribe of Pune, who was sold and trained as a nautch girl. Through his memoir, Gaekwad gives a face and dignity to the many nameless women of Kamathipura and their difficult stories. “My mother was not a body of shame for me. I didn’t feel ashamed of my mother or her identity. Yes, the outsiders did all that [pass unsavoury comments] but I never brought them home. One builds a strong wall of emotional resilience around them over time,” says Gaekwad. “Perhaps, my mother passed on her resilience to me. One acknowledges that it [shaming and harassment] happened but one cannot fight it because there are just too many [people] to fight.”

He reveals that, as the children of women from Kamathipura take on the roles of taxi drivers, store salesmen and other professionals, they often feel a sense of shame and guilt about their origins. “When I went to Calcutta and tried to speak to some people whom I knew, they completely shunned me. They have moved to a life where their past doesn’t come up in conversations. They were ashamed to talk about it. They didn’t understand that I was trying to celebrate it [the past], not bring shame to it,” says the former journalist who believes his childhood companions might actually feel validated if they ever do read his memoir. “All it takes is one person to stand up and say ‘Hey — it is not that bad’.”

Too many celebrity voices?

Despite the many rewards of writing and reading memoirs, the most popular examples of this genre continue to be celebrity tell-alls. But this doesn’t have to be a given. Gaekwad thinks publishers should commission books by a more diverse set of authors. “Right now, it is an unhealthy balance. Celebrity memoirs are heard more and marketed better so their sales are better. It is time this changed,” he says. Tejuja, however, thinks it’s the story that matters. “If by reading their stories, people are encouraged to talk about their own struggles, then that’s a good thing. It’s important to read memoirs written by anyone. An introduction to a life different to yours – it’s a privilege and an honour to encounter that in the pages of books,” he says.

One thing is certain, we enjoy reading first person accounts about life and its many unpredictable twists and turns. Memoirs offer us an insight into different ways of thinking and being and give us an idea of how those ways might be applied to our own lives. Perhaps that’s why it continues to be a popular genre.

Deepansh Duggal writes on art and culture. He tweets at Deepansh75.