More and more, as I read Micki
Peluso’s autobiography covering twenty-two years in her life, I was reminded of
eleven words in Walt Whitman’s Leaves of
Grass. “Camerado, this is no book, Who
touches this touches a man.” In her
case, it is a woman we touch, and the reader learns who the author is as few
characters we ever come to know either in fiction or nonfiction. In addition, we come to know her husband
Butch and her six children as they are born, develop, interact, clash with each other, encounter
problems, and sometimes go their separate ways.
And The Whippoorwill Sang presents a journey that is both inspiring
and painful. It will make you laugh and
cry, and it is structured around the grievous, heartbreaking injury to one of
their children who is left shattered along the road by a hit and run
driver. There are parts of this book
which I find unforgettable, and some of the writing is especially fine. Generally one is supposed to avoid using
pathetic fallacies, but I love Peluso’s statement that the “sun had the dignity
not to shine” at Noelle’s funeral. There
is a great deal more wonderful writing as well.
This book is many things. At times,
it’s a sprawling story of misadventures, as when the Peluso family makes its
grand westward trek out to Las Vegas and back again. Readers can laugh at some of the mistakes
along the way, perhaps remembering ones they’ve made. This memoir is also a complex study of the
relationship between a wife and husband and her attempts to understand him and improve
their marriage. Plus, we receive fully
realized portraits of all six of her children.
They come alive on her pages! If
I had to pick a favorite, it would be Noelle.
Add to all this the author’s
mother; Micki’s many friends and acquaintances; the backstory of how she came
to get married and change her religion; Butch’s quitting jobs and their
persistent financial problems; the wonderful, haunted farmhouse they lived in; plus
too many other subjects to mention, and we have a book piled to the rafters with
subjects that keep us reading. One last
thing: the author mentioned to me she had doubts about the title. Well, to me, And The Whippoorwill Sang is perfect, literary, and most
appropriate. Don’t take my word for
it. Read the book and see for yourself.
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From the author's blogspot: http://mallie1025.blogspot.com: