Book Review: Mixed Feelings

A Fair Trade Book

Title: Mixed Feelings

Author: Francine Klagsbrun

Date: 1992

Publisher: Bantam

ISBN: 0-553-08841-6

Length: 420 pages

Quote: “[T]he ties between brothers and sister soften stretch far into old age...Parents die...brothers and sisters cannot be divorced.”

To me the interesting thing about this book was that so many of the people who had so little new information to share apparently wanted so much to be included in this book.

Really. You knew that many siblings are close, some are distant, many are loyal lifelong friends, some are enemies, and a few are incestuous. That's what this book has to tell you. So, the pleasure of reading the book is in the stories the siblings tell, and this review will maunder along with a few more of them.

Whatever your sibling relationships were like, or are like now, you'll find others who share your feelings, often with vivid examples of how other people showed brotherly or sisterly love—or something else.

Even if you are an identical twin, you may have defined yourself in contrast to a sibling...I think back to a classroom where school administration had been unable to keep mildly hyperactive twins from tormenting the same teacher at the same time. “Calling me by his name is ruining my reputation,” complained one twin. He was the only one who noticed that he was fractionally quieter than his brother was. Neither twin was a close friend of mine, but I remember feeling some empathy for the one who perceived himself as less manic. Not only have a surprising number of people failed to notice how much younger, taller, and prettier my sisters are, or that they've been legally classified as belonging to different “races”; when we were kids some people failed to notice that my brother and I were even different genders.

...Or, as it might be because you and your sibling were “more secure in [your] own skins” at home, you might have defined yourself and sibling in contrast to other people. Klagsbrun dwells less on this type of family. Sometimes the whole family define themselves in contrast to neighbors.

 

Even extended families can do this.

Does the social status of having a well defined and researched extended family, with a pedigree, come before or after the individual's willingness to describe self and relatives in terms of “the Logan gaze,” an “inside” piece of nonverbal communication, or “the Hapsburg lip,” an inherited trait, or even “the Bannon temper,” an acknowledged character flaw? “Probably a self-perpetuating cycle,” suggests a local informant, proud enough of the “family” looks, land, and reputation to claim the “family” temperament with pride. (That temperament can be perceived as anywhere from “meek” to “relentless,” depending on the extent to which the speaker has locked horns with a member of the clan; the family rule is “Don't start a fight, and don't lose one.”)

The more likeness siblings are willing to admit, the more competitive they may be—especially the younger siblings. “Mary Ann, like many elder siblings, remains aloof from open competition,” Klagsbrun observes. “'She has a right to feel proud, she has done very well,' she said when I asked about her response to Nancy's career achievement. 'Here is someone who had to wear my hand-me-downs and who thought of herself as a dumb blonde.'”But then, on second thought, respondent “Mary Ann” complained that younger sister “Nancy” “has to flaunt everything she does. I left college to help support the family,” and Nancy, though aware that she offends Mary Ann by flaunting her degree and achievements, “can't seem to help...seeking again and again the recognition she still craves from the older sister she still idolizes.”

Anything resembling favoritism from adults seems to guarantee a more competitive, less cooperative relationship. Klagsbrun finds respondents with good things to say about being a “sibling of the disabled”: “Grossman found that college students with retarded sibs were often more tolerant of differences...and more willing to take a stand against prejudice than other students.”

Maybe. Maybe not. My sister's brain damage is not the most typical kind. “The pretty one” tests in the high normal range for intelligence, did well in school, and for a year or two even pulled her weight on a job. She's strong, though not graceful; she hears most sounds, though the range of pitches she doesn't hear includes most of the range in which women normally speak and sing. People see her as beautiful, smart, “neurotic,” spoiled, and a snob. If you try to imagine being an attractive young woman, with long black hair and a top-heavy figure, who can talk naturally with men but has trouble hearing what most women say...aren't you glad you don't really know what that's like? Nobody meeting her for the first time ever says “brain-damaged.” You have to be able to remember what she was like before scarlet fever to understand that in our family neurological trauma did indeed produce the “normal” child...and "normal"-range abilities did indeed produce the "neurotic," depressed personality.

But then our parents challenged my brother and me. If we bonded by doing, reading, understanding things that were over the heads of my classmates (and he was three years younger), we were still scolded for not doing, reading, and understanding as much as adults already. If we wanted any special treats or pleasures or privileges, we worked for them. Then my brother died, I went off to school, and there was Poor Baby left alone in the empty nest...and anything for which I'd had to work was handed to “the pretty one” on a platter, when she reached the same age, whether she even particularly wanted it or not.

I don't hate “the pretty one.” I even contributed to the shower of prezzies and benefits she never appreciated. Let's just say that “the tough one,” whose early life was much harder than mine, is easier to love. And anyone whose brain damage is more obvious than “the pretty one's” really gives me the willies...and, despite sympathy and good will, and possibly just because I'm an Ear Person, I've never gone beyond finger-spelling in sign language or worked with anyone who was deaf.

Does this sort of thing fascinate you? How typical, or atypical, were your family? If you enjoy this sort of bloggy chat about family relations, you'll like Mixed Feelings. What you'll learn from it is that you're not the only one whose family relations affected you in the way they did; you may be in a majority or a minority, relative to Klagsbrun's sample of respondents, but you're almost certainly normal. It's as good a way as any to relax before bed, pass the time on a train ride, or even start a conversation with someone you'd like to know better.

Francine Klagsbrun is still alive and writing so Mixed Feelings is a Fair Trade Book. If you buy it here, from the $5 per book + $5 per package (two books the size of the copy I have will fit into one package) + $1 per online payment, we'll send $1 to Klagsbrun or a charity of her choice. If you add Married People to the package, for a total of $15 via postal money order or $16 via Paypal, Klagsbrun or her charity will receive $2.