Mamarama: A Memoir of Sex, Kids and Rock 'n' Roll is a must-read for, well, I think everyone. I originally started reading the book after my boyfriend bought it for me at the bookshop where he works (Dog Eared Books in San Francisco) because he noticed the author had an affinity for Rent, my current obsession.
Author Evelyn McDonnell, co-editor of the books Rock She Wrote: Women Write About Rock, Pop and Rap and Stars Don’t Stand Still in the Sky: Music and Myth and author of Army of She: Icelandic, Iconoclastic, Irrepressible Bjork and Rent by Jonathan Larson, writes about her life in relation to the cultural and feminist (or not so feminist) scenes of her high school years in the mid-west, a struggling writer in Bohemian New York, the riot grrrl explosion of the early nineties, her experiences in two marriages, as a stepmother, a hip hop critic and a mother.
The current pop culture writer of the Miami Herald, McDonnell describes her struggle to add motherhood to her constantly growing list of identities without compromising her career, her beliefs, or herself.
She writes:
“I have moments, even days, of pure despondency when I’m not sure I’m cut out for this parenting stuff. … I worry I’m becoming everything I didn’t want to be: a frumpy, grumpy housewife who, two weeks after it came out, still hasn’t heard the new Strokes CD.
“Then I remember: I don’t like the Strokes.”
Besides being an excellent feminist and cultural memoir and a totally fun read, Mamarama struck a strong chord with me (and I am sure many others) personally. Currently occupying the space between a degree in feminist studies, and some combination of career, marriage and motherhood in the next five or so years, I often wonder (and worry, and obsess!) over whether I will continue to uphold and enact the values I feel to be so important now once I am overrun with motherly responsibilities.
Mamarama made me realize the answer is yes.
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