Bad Mother: A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace, by Ayelet Waldman isn’t a bad book. Waldman, who was excoriated for being a bad mother after she wrote a New York Times essay in which she confessed to loving her husband (novelist Michael Chabon) more than her children, can often write lyrically. And she makes smart observations, like the fact that society is eager to quickly ferret out "bad mothers" because it's an easy way to feel better about our own shortcomings. But ultimately, the book is less social insight and more reflections of scenes from her life.
Love her or hate her, the fact is that Waldman can write prose that’s funny as well as heartbreaking. A few passages had me laughing out loud. About her father, she writes: "He doesn’t clean -- I’m pretty sure he lumps toilet brushes and mops into the same 'feminine products' category as tampons and vaginal deodorant -- and he cannot cook." And a chapter on the decision she and her husband made to terminate a pregnancy because of a discovered genetic defect brought me to tears.
But Waldman is also very skilled at lobbing inflammatory flares (the NYT essay being one of many examples). Of her high school experience, she writes, "Another month of high school might have found me out shopping for a black trench coat and an AK-47." It’s a startling choice of words, but if anyone wrote in to complain, she’d probably plead innocent. But there’s a whiff of disingenuousness when Waldman expresses bewilderment at the reactions she generates with her overly breezy declarations. After all, she is an attorney and writer, and is more than familiar with the power of a turn of a phrase. And her take on "attachment parenting" is more caricature than reality-based.
All in all, if you're not a fan of Waldman, this book won't change your mind. But I like the take-home message of Bad Mother, which is, in essence, let’s stop beating each other and ourselves up about who is or isn’t a bad mother and keep trying our best to love our children as much as we can. Amen to that.
