ann patchett & lucy grealy

Every considerable bit of steam and saline I had mustered for this woman evaporated when, towards the end of Patchett's book, it was revealed that she was "virulently anti-American" and thought the victims of 9-11 got what was coming since America had done much evil in the world "unpunished." She was brilliant and suffered much and greatly; this is excrutiatingly true. She was also utterly self-absorped and rather uncaring of the infinite attentions and sacrifices of her numerous American friends.

Perhaps she should have stayed in Aberdeen?

Regarding JHelsel's comments that she was self- absobed and uncaring - you have to also realize something about Lucy Grealy which should make you take some of her comments with a grain of salt. Towards the end of her life she became very addicted to perscription painkillers from all her surgeries and the last two years of her life she was a heroin addict. I would take something someone said, no matter how brilliant, with a huge grain of salt if that was the state of mind they had come to. I think also the pain and suffering in her own life, all the surgeries she endured, the fact that it was her face that was the most disfigured thing about her, that has to wear on a person and perhaps under the influence, she was not at her best, wouldn't you think?

I agree with Lorelei Elaine. Not only did Lucy Grealy suffer a horrendous childhood on into adulthood due to her disfigurement and numerous surgeries, she was an immigrant from Ireland. When her family immigrated, her brothers immediately began a campaign of anti-American sentiment.

Having just finished the book a few days ago, I think I agree a lttle with all the comments previouly posted. But moreover, that Ann Patchett's portrait of Lucy Grealy is one that is understandable to any woman who has ever had an intense friendship with another woman. Sure, Lucy is one of the most self-absorbed characters ever described in literature, but she is not being portrayed as a saint, but more of a martyr, a reluctant spokesperson for the hunchbacks of the world. She was someone who plowed forward despite terrible physical deformities and pain and still managed to live a full and successful (for what she had to endure and an almost inevitable early death)life. She reminds me of Carson Mc Culler's The Heart is a Lonely Hunter--we all want to be the beloved at some point, even the ugly and "undesirable." Her life was a search to find someone to hold her up as precious, the reason why she reveled in her relationship with Ann and her many overly suppostive and tolerant friends and her doctors, and the same reason why she was so horribly dissappointed with her sexual partners. Lucy's life should be a lesson for all women. Before anyone so readily criticizes her life, they should consider the full implication of what it would be like to walk in her shoes.

I experienced much of what Lucy Grealy did in her childhood; that is, I was tormented about my appearance from childhood all through high school. But it did not make me infantile, self-absorbed, selfish, lazy, promiscuous, and a drug addict. I think people gave attention to Grealy not out of any great liking for her ( since Grealy is definitely not a very likeable person), but out of pity and/or compassion. The exception is Ann Patchett, who, judging from her book, was in love with her. Her relationship with Grealy is a textbook example of excruciating co-dependence. A warm, wonderful friendship this ain't.

It is a wonder to me how severely people judge a human being who has made her work public. I suppose one may say anything one wants about work in the public sphere, but it is disheartening to see such arrogant dismissal of a writer and her grieving friend without consideration for the possibility of one's own misinterpretation and ignorance of the lived details. For Grealy's family and friends and Patchett's sake, I hope they do not stumble accross this website.

I, for one, appreciated Grealy's memoir for its literary details, personal revelations, and relevant intellectual context. I appreciated Ann Patchett's afterword as well as her piece "The Face of Pain".

Having watched a best friend descend into a heroin addiction for "no good reason" I've walked away considering myself lucky for surviving relatively unscathed, but certainly not morally or intellectually superior. Self-absorption, or what appears to others to be self-absorption, is sometimes more of a trap with room for little hope than a mere chosen vanity one can denounce with the right dose of humility.

I just finished "Truth & Beauty" this evening. Does anybody know how to contact Ms. Patchett? I have two questions (1) Where was Lucy's family throughout her personal struggles? and (2) Did she not have a close relationship with her twin sister? Lucy Grealy, God rest her soul, was a classic diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. God bless you Ann. Lucy was truly loved all along -- if only she could of recognized this!

I just finished the Patchett book also. I have read and reread Autobiography of a Face so many, many times that when I first tried to read Truth and Beauty, I thought the maybe Patchett didn't know Grealy at all, but had cribbed her "biography" from what Grealy wrote in AOAF. I am still wondering a bit, but I'm assuming that someone must have seen them together.

I also realize that my feelings about this book are amazingly complex. Having lost a dear friend that I loved, I imagined writing a sort of "tell-all" book about her and I'm not sure if I did it would be honoring her.

I guess that's what makes me the most uncomfortable about this book--in writing about her tremendous friendship and rivalry with Grealy, Patchett is, in a way, declaring a victory in the race "to be the success" that she and Grealy seem to have engaged in.

It reminds me of a passage in Geoffrey Wolfe's book, Duke of Deception, where he points out that a friend of his father's defended his father against the charge of being a Jew (back in the '30s) thus suggesting what a good friend he had been to him, but Wolfe points out that a real friend would never have told him the story at all.

Although I did find Lucy to be impetuous and self absorbed, I felt a great deal of sadness for her obvious poor sense of self. I was so moved by Ann's devotion to her and the friendship itself that it made me examine my own close friendship with my dearest friend, Karen. I guess that is the beauty of the written word, it takes you places in your own memory that you hold sacred.

I'm so glad to have stumbled onto this discussion of Patchett/Grealy. I have to agree with much of what Cynthia said. Almost halfway through Truth and Beauty, I realized that Lucy Grealy was a self-absorbed spoiled and irresponsible person who used Ann Patchett terribly. I'm having a hard time finishing the book because of my dislike for Grealy. This book is not about friendship. It's about self-pity and codependency. Lucy Grealy is no hero.

No Hero, self absorbed, irrespsonsible...

Are you people for real? Here is a woman who suffered physical and emotional pain for THIRTY NINE years of her life. Do you not think that all these surgeries left her in immense pain?? Do you not think being disfigured would also cause a ton of emotional pain? Lucy is a hero... The fact that she SURVIVED makes her a hero. The fact that she made it through most of the years of her life not addicted to drugs is a miracle... It is obvious to me that the people who think she was "spoiled" have themselves lived a very charmed life. Ever heard of OxyContin?? Percocet? Morphine?? The reason it was so easy for Lucy to become a heroin addicct in the first place was the fact that she was already forced to take a myriad of highly addictive LEGAL narcotics. I myself have suffered from chronic back pain for ten years and I can tell you right now that it is absolutely NOTHING in comparison to what she went through for her whole life. I can't even begin to fathom the pain she endured. She suffered immensly and the fact that she lived so freely for most of her life and had so many friends is a testament to how she tried desperately to make her life as good as she could in the way of terrible obstacles.

Lucy deserved to be spoiled... Anyone who can endure what she went through... The ridicule, the pain, the constant surgeries... She deserved to be spoiled.

Anyone who disagrees - go get some surgery and then imagine 38 surgeries and 38 recoveries all fit into an approximate 30 year span and how depressing that could be. Then imagine your face changing that many times...

Shame on anyone who lacks the compassion to see what this woman endured.

Grealy did go through a lot, and seeing as how most likely none of us posting have ever had to live with Ewing's Sarcoma, we really aren't in aposition to judge her. Maybe she could be a little selfish at times, but think about how she viewed the world. In her mind, she was the only one who truly understood her, everyone else was on the outside. Of cousre she had to look out for her own interests, is she didn't could she really count on anyone else to? Plus, remember, one of those closest to her, Patchett, loved her dearly and didn't think of her as selfish. I think that says something, seeing as how none of us knew her personally...

Lucy Grealy a "hero"? I almost fell out of my chair laughing at that one. As for "she deserved to be spoiled"; well, she certainly felt that she was entitled to be spoiled. She thought she was entitled to everything. She was a bottomless pit when it came to entitlement. She thought she deserved everything, money, fame, adulation, because of surviving a disfiguring cancer. But what she really deserved was to have some sense knocked into her. If she had been forced to "bottom out" as so many drug addicts have to do in order to see that only they can save themselves, perhaps she would not have died of a heroin overdose. If her enabling "friends" had not always been there to pamper and cosset her after her innumerable surgeries and provide her with food, money, shelter she might still be alive. Maybe if Grealy had found herself in jail, or in a homeless shelter, or starving on the street, that might have made her face her demons once and for all. Instead she always had loving "friends" like Ann Patchett to cushion her fall. Grealy died alone, of a drug overdose, in an apartment she was squatting in. Her life story is not one of triumph; it is one of failure. Her friends failed her by fostering her selfish, irresponsible behavior and emotional instablity. But it was Grealy who failed herself most of all, by never facing her severe mental problems, which went much deeper than the issue of her face.

I tend to agree, to a large extent, with the folks
on this site who have leaned towards the view that
while Lucy suffered enormous physical and emotional pain in her life, she was also incredibly irresponsible and self absorbed, and her friends helped her to become this way.
Ann was her friend, yes, but also her enabler,
despite what I think were her very good intentions.
Fascinating book, I admit that I read it until
I couldn't put it down.
This is a great website, by the way!

"Instead she always had loving "friends" like Ann Patchett to cushion her fall"

And what is wrong with having loving friends that support you through the toughest times in your life??

I'm glad she had those friends... regardless of if they were so called "enablers" or not. We all need people to lean on. Some of us just need to do more leaning than others... and usually those are the people who have been through the hardest of times. Don't forget that Lucy had numerous mental health professionals that she worked with to try and improve her quality of life... Sometimes depression is a hard thing to crawl out of - not all of us are as strong as you must be Cynthia... Congratulations on being stronger than Lucy... Does that make you feel like a better person??

To call someone a failure is pretty harsh. I'm sensing that you may be a "glass half empty" kind of person... and I feel sorry for you. Trying to see the good in people is so much easier than focusing on the negatives and labelling someone a failure. Time to look in the mirror and figure out where all that anger is coming from.

Amen to that sister!

I wouldn't call my reaction to the pathetic Lucy Grealy "anger". I would call it HONESTY. I call 'em like I see 'em. And Lucy Grealy was a loser. She was a woman who never grew up, who was never ALLOWED to grow up, due to the people who surrounded her and took care of her as though she were a helpless child. She wasn't helpless. She was an adult capable of making her own living. But why make a living when other people are willing to provide for you? And why make any attempt to change your life when you have "friends" who make allowances for your reckless, wildly irresponsible behavior? Poor Lucy, she's been through so much, let's give her everything she wants, she deserves it. What hogwash! And a fat lot of good it did her; all that mollycoddling and permissiveness weakened her already questionable character and made her even more infantile. Let's look at the cold, hard facts, shall we? Lucy Grealy wrote a successful memoir, that was later determined to be not entirely truthful. She was given money to produce a novel, but never came up with even a few pages. She kept having surgery after surgery in her eternal quest to be beautiful. The surgeries, which were her own choice, kept her in pain, so she medicated herself heavily, eventually falling in love with heroin. She was a common junkie, but considered herself above other heroin addicts; "I'm not like those people. I'm not an addict". To the end of her days, she refused to admit she was addicted. She was broke and homeless, but avoided the homeless shelter and the streets by squatting in friends homes and taking money from them. She ended up killing herself; whether it was an accident or deliberate, it will never be know with certainty. Now I ask you: is this a person who should be revered? Is this a person who should be called a "hero"? Not in my book. My heroes are people who can face adversity and deal with it, not people who wallow in self-pity and drugs. Having a cancer that took part of her jaw did not justify the mess that Lucy Grealy made of her life. No matter how many sob-sisters bleat about her suffering, the facts speak for themselves. Lucy Grealy screwed up. And it was ALL HER OWN FAULT.

I stumbled on this site and am glad I did. I haven't heard any comments to the question Lisa asked in November. Where was her family? My mother began a series of surgeries at the age of 5 that continued until 5 years ago, with a total of over 30. She is now 85. She is strong, loving and views her pain with a view that has always been "OK, so get on with life and live it to the fullest." I have read all of Patchett's book, read Lucy Grealy's autobiography and assorted articles on their relationship. I keep coming back to the impact of her family and their lives together as a source of question. My mother's parents were with her for all surgeries, basically,"moved into the room." Her father spent endless hours of time in physical therapy with her. She stated she never felt alone. When I read Grealy's account of her parents leaving her alone at the hospital and her stunned reaction and then resolve that "she was alone" I wondered how that impacted her behavior of self absorbtion. That reaction made some sense to me.

As to the questions people has raised about her friends sticking with her, I look to Ann Patchett's statements about how Lucy was one of the most vital, interesting people she had ever known. I think many of us have fallen in love with friends who are destructive, and also fastinating. I wonder if that is one of the factors that held so many of Lucy's friends to her for so long.

In short, I have found this an interesting conversation to be part of because it resembles my experiences in life and the lives of many people I know. I have no answers only questions.

Where was her family? Always there for her, but Lucy did neglect to mention us a lot! But that was fine, we're always proud of her, and was thankful for the success she did have. We have no intention of adding to the Lucy industry, although if someone wants to give me a healthy advance I may be tempted. She obviously touched a lot of people in her short life, and for that we are thankful

I agree with much of what has been written here (even you Cynthia!) But I will simply add that you shouldn't always believe what you read and don't put yourself in others shoes so easily ( Cynthia again!) As in any biography, what's left out is just as important. And she left out a lot!

For the record, I supported Ann's book. I didnt' read it all because it was too painful, and as Ann told me it's very sad and I know the ending.

Lucy's parent are not with us to defend their actions, but they should not have to defend their actions to strangersif they were! Realise that Lucy's interpretation of her life naturally had parts missing. It's an interesting story, but should perhaps be also included in the fiction category as well!

Would appreciate for the sake of the living to drop this whole thing!

I just finished reading Truth and Beauty. I envy their friendship and admire their talent. Everything Cynthia and her like is saying is insignifcant, petty and probably petulant. Lucy undured the unbearable and still manged to write like an angel.

Just finished the book last weekend ... still feel
devastated. It was certainly well worth the time
I spent reading it, and I won't soon forget it.
The reason I picked it up was because it was about
friendship and two aspiring writers. I think both
women are worth admiring, however flawed they are.
As for their flaws, I saw a bit of myself in both of them -- both the victim and the rescuing hero.
It was a good reminder to me about how life can get so off track that it's next to impossible to get back on (anyone who has suffered serious depression understands that to some degree) ... I plan to recommend this book to all my friends.

I came to "Truth & Beauty" in a different way than any of you -- I'd read and enjoyed Patchett's "The Magician's Assistant" and was looking for anything else she'd written.
I am online now because I had never heard of Lucy Grealy and was suspicious that she may not have been real. Numerous authors have written fiction in the guise of a memoir, and I though this might be another case.
Now that I've learned otherwise, I am amazed at the way Lucy's friends put up with her for so long. Another reaction to the novel: those of us who write for newspapers and magazines have a hard time understanding the self-destructive and time-wasting behavior of so-called serious writers in this book. Apply rear end to seat and write something, for goodness sake, or get a job as a waitress, like Patchett did.
By all accounts, Joyce Carol Oates is also fairly neurotic and depressed, and yet she writes about two novels every three year, plus poetry, literary anaysis, and articles of all types.

Nicholas, I am sorry for your loss, and for your having to read the dissection of your sister, a real person and family member to you, as if she was nothing more than a made-up character in a novel. If it gives you any comfort, I read Ann's book and took away a multitude of special and influential qualities in your sister in addition to my deep sense of sadness that her time to share her talents was so short. Godspeed.

What an interesting site! I too am interested in meeting or writing to Ann Patchett..why?.....because I live in Aberdeen. Perhaps she would like to come and re-visit us again soon to clear up a few things?
I also knew Lucy though I suspect it will come as no suprise to those using this site that I had never heard of Ann until her book came out despite actually flatting with Lucy!
Aberdeen does not deserve the infactual description given in Truth and Beauty which in my mind is rather short on facts anyway. I can't comment on someone elses realtionships and how they view them but Lucy had a lot of friends in Aberdeen, people were rude to her all over the world, ignorance is NOT confined to one city and this is no worse than anywhere else: and 'we' here who provided rather a lot of FREE medical aid to Lucy are 'not amused' .
AND we don't think AP should be sent back to Aberdeen (thanks who ever wrote that), she should just come and apologize.
Bethy

Nicholas' comments about Lucy leaving out "a lot" is an important issue that writers face. They are creating a work of art, not writing about every detail of their lives. I haven't read Autobiography of a Face, but Truth and Beauty is a work of art. I am almost finished Truth and Beauty, but I left the book at school yesterday, so I'll have to wait until Monday to finish it. I stumbled on this sight looking for information about Lucy that would prepare me for what seemed to be inevitable, the loss of a vibrant woman.

It is interesting to me how all of these people calling Lucy Grealy a failure have never gone through the pain that she went through. Instead of judging what Grealy was like, why don't people try to understand what she was trying to say about society? We are obsessed with looks and don't allow disformed people to have happiness. How was Grealy supposed to grow up when at every turn people forced her into herself? Painkillers are among the most addictive substances in the world, and while it may be easy for people not on them to say that she should have gotten help, when you are forced to take them it is not so easy to see it that way. Her entire book was about how people judge each other, and all of you who are judging her are merely a case-in-point. "judge not lest ye be judged" is often quoted by people who stand on their Christian morals, but not used when they turn around and discredit someone like Lucy Grealy for being a "loser."

Am interested to see the way this discussion winds itself, between those who call Lucy Grealy self-absorbed and spoiled, and those who would canonize her as a saint because of her pain. And then family members and friends intervene to point out that much has been left out of the written accounts (Grealy's and Patchett's), and that the perspectives of each author were inevitably partial and incomplete. In some ways, the discussion itself makes the point I want to make--that humans are complex creatures, simultaneously lovable and flawed beings who cannot be boxed into the "heroic" or "loser" categories easily. as such, these wonderful and terrible people resist being quickly reduced to the memoirs of their friends or even their own autobiographies. Can we read these books without being moved, at the very least, to contemplate the complexity of the human condition?

Having read "Truth and Beauty" and all the comments, I can understand both sides. I feel that Lucy was very lucky to survive Ewings Sarcoma since the 5 year survival rate is less than 10% and many people who have this cancer will suffer metastasis to another area of the body. I wish that her friends and the medical professionals in her life would have been better at helping her celebrate her cancer survival instead of trying to "fix" her face. There are ways, short of repeated surgeries, that she could have been helped. It is a chilling example of the importance our culture places on the external.

I read this book in two days and cried the whole time. Not because I thought Lucy Grealy was a hero or Ann Patchett a saint, nor did I think Grealy a loser and Patchett as a co-dependent enabler. But because this work made me think and examine my own life, my own struggles with cancer & surgeries, my own idea of beauty, and my friendships. I think it’s a mute point to argue about what Grealy was and wasn’t. I don’t think that’s the point of this book (or any other book for that matter). Only Patchett and Grealy know what really happened and who and what they are. We only know what we are told. I am grateful that this book made me think about who I am and who I want to be rather than who Lucy Grealy was.

People write for many reasons and I find it immpossible not to praise them for being vulnerable, they've shared their most personal thoughts with strangers, opened themselves up to critical commentary. Lucy was clearly a foiled person, filled with self-loathing and unrealized potential. Ann mothered her for her own pschological reasons and, I think, was consumed by guilt and remorse that she couldn't/didn't save Lucy. A complex relationship in a world of complex relations. Celebrate what a moving and thought provoking book this was and come down from your own self-defeating high horse; or stick to People magazine with it's heroic stories of those who have beaten the odds.

I have just finished the book myself. Have read all the blogs so far...very interesting..I have to agree with YAC..I'm not a cancer survivor but everything else she said is exactly on for me. How I feel about myself, my friendships, my life in general.. I've had alot of problems with my teeth and lack of bone for implants...I often feel lonely, something I think we all have in common..that is what was important about this book to me. I did think the relationship sounded very co dependent but nice. I'd love to have a friend like that.. I have to comment to all that had such a strong negative reaction, that usually when something brings up such feelings it's showing us something about ourselves because we can't see ourselves except thru the mirror of others.

Just finished Truth & Beauty, and was impressed by it as an artwork (as opposed to a set-in-stone factual analysis). By virtue of its nature this memoir was lopsided in perspective; however, it's artful in that we feel more intimacy with the person it focuses on (Grealy) than the narrator (Patchett).

Feedback posted here and elsewhere seems to run the gamut from judgmental attacks on Grealy's life (which seem a bit much considering she's someone most of us didn't know) to beatification(which also seems a bit much -- considering she's someone most of us didn't know). I found the memoir to be a pleasing character study of someone wonderfully flawed and at times inspirational. Though I found Patchett's Grealy to be many things -- spirited, "fetching", irritating, maddening, lovable -- she was never dull. I also found the book to be a much quieter reflection of Patchett's: on being the friend who doesn't shine quite so bright, the mottled cardinal mated to the bright redbird. Patchett's memories of Grealy's vibrance are explicit, but her own feelings of never quite measuring up are implicit and ultimately what drew Ann and Lucy together for me, the shared thread that pulled them close in this book.

I don't think Lucy Grealy would have been nearly as interesting as pure saintly accepter of disfigurement, or as a full-blown loser. It's far more facinating to try figuring out someone who's a concoction of both, at the same time that she's neither.

How did Lucy Grealy die?

I disagree with the comments that suggest because of Lucy's enormous suffering it was somehow an "excuse" for spoiled behavior, insensitive comments, and drug addiction. Not so. There are many people in life who suffer though enormous pain but don't resort to becoming an emotional vampire and sucking the life out of everyone around her. As I get older I have less patience for self destructive people like Lucy. I believe after reading Patchetts book that Lucy was a deeply disturbed individual who needed serious help-not people to placate her. This is not to say I don't feel sorry for her, because I do. But the account of her in this book makes her very hard to like.

This is a geat site. Lucy Grealy's book really moved me. I have looked, from time to time, about information about her. I read the Ann Patchett book. I very geatly respect the wishes of her brother that she may rest in peace and I don't think that I am saying anything that would violate that. I feel a kind of bond with all the posters here because they would not have come here except for the fact that both Lucy's book and Ann's book moved them. What I find curious about most of the posts is that they leave out the most basic fact about both of these women. They could really really write. In Ann Patchett's book she says that only two people from her college were chosen for the Iowa's writers' program. The people that did the choosing for that year may have screwed up a whole lot of things in a whole lot of years- but that year they were right on the button.
rr

I was moved by Ann Patchett's telling of Lucy's story because it speaks so passionately and clearly about the essential human condition. Each of us has something in our lives we deal with in order to learn the true life lesson, which is to love ourselves as divine beings so we can love others and see divinity in them. For Lucy, her "thing" was external, on display every waking moment. It's heartbreaking that the gifts she was given to help her through--that did in fact allow her to transcend the pain and shame and incompleteness to lead this incredibly alive life that was inspirational for many--were not enough in the end to sustain her. Or, actually that she couldn't keep in touch with those gifts to see her through. She abandoned her writing, one of her gifts, even though she knew it was her salvation. Many artists are too sensitive, too intelligent, too not-of-this-world to always survive in this world--that is the heartbreak of their genius. It doesn't strike me as self-absorption but self-negation, the feeling you're not worth it, but since you also sense you have come "trailing clouds of glory" as Wordsworth wrote, you try to make sense of why you don't feel loved. I think most of us have something that we hold out there, thinking "When I get that parent's love, or that car, or that job, or that child, or whatever, I'll know I'm ok." But we don't voice it but just keep scrabbling after 'it" and wearing a mask that we're ok already. Lucy didn't have that luxury. She showed great courage and faith in her friends to be able to ask that question repeatedly since she was feeling it. I know I stop myself and cut myself off from friends because I don't want to talk about what's really going on with me because I know they've heard it before.

But I digress. A few years ago this is how I summed up my life: "She was never more beautiful than when men were leaving her." So I've been told I am beautiful more often than my fair share, but always as compensation for men not wanting to just be with me. My father sexually abused me and my mother neglected and sacrificed me, so my ugliness and my shame at that were hidden and more insidious for me to forgive and form that crucial relationship with myself first. And I'm only now beginning to glimpse what loving myself first means and getting a clue as to how to do it. And I have been luckier than Lucy because I have not had the distractions of fame and writing genius or the temptations of necessary painkillers to work through, and even then I've put it off until I've absolutely had to choose love myself or die, which I just can't do to my two grown sons--miracles she also didn't have.

It seemed to me as I was reading that Lucy's self-love got seared along with the chemo at age 10 so Lucy's friends, especially Ann, treated her like a loving parent of a 10-year old. They helped out with shelter and money and other basic needs, and they gave her unconditional love and patiently, sincerely asnwered her unending questions in an affirmative way. But they were also clear in their expectations of her behavior and didn't let her off the hook. And it worked most of Lucy's life and she went on to touch people's lives and leave a legacy of inspiration for many. It's nobody's fault her body and soul just gave out too soon for those who loved her.

I am grateful today that Lucy Grealy and Ann Patchett graced our lives by sharing their life lessons with us in their writing. And I hope Ann Patchett continues to grace my life with her lyrical, magical words so I can continue to be transformed by them in my own way.

I picked up Truth and Beauty on a whim because I love the other Ann P. books. I had no idea what it was about and much to my surprise my heart was wrentched out at the ending.

I grew up in a co-dependant family as my older brother has been a herion addict for most of our lives. I have been one of the main enablers and after many ruined relationships, lots of prison visits, and posting bail - I finally told him no-more. Its killing me. I pray for him daily but at the ripe old age of 45, I finally realized that he has to do this alone - I can not save him much to my great dismay. He is homeless now and it breaks my heart to know this - and to have read about Lucy's demise- it only increases my sadness. I dont know the answer - other than we have to surrender ourselves to God and hopefully my brother one day can do the same.

Its very difficult not to want to help and save one another - as mentioned on this site, its our human condition - but I do beleive that we can only do so much and as hard as it is - people have to help themselves no matter what they have been through. If we find my brother one day dead from an overdoes, I have to know - its not my fault - I still struggle with wanting to go find him, take him in and protect him. After much prayer, I just know that he has to come around on his own

I love Ann's book and I love Lucy now too - of course, I am always rooting for the underdog....I relate to both characters and place no judgements. Its just so very sad....

I picked up Truth & Beauty because Ann Patchett is, without par, my favorite fiction author. I have read all of her four novels and have been moved by each. Though each is quite unique and seemingly different from the others, I find a common thread through them all - Love - coming as a surprise in the most unlikely places and between the most disparate individuals; Love as a saving grace; Love that does not fit our traditional, romantic ideas of love but that is tranformative, transcendent, and amazing. That theme is certainly carried through in Truth & Beauty.

Ann's consistancy in her love and support for Lucy throughout her tragically difficult life is, to me, nothing short of heroic. I too have recently lost a brother to a lifetime of alcoholism and addiction. And the lesson in that struggle and in Truth & Beauty is that, no matter how hard we try, how deeply we desire it, our love cannot fix, heal or control those damaged people in our lives who are set on a path to their own distruction. There are those among us who, though brilliant, gifted, beautiful shining stars, cannot be saved from their self-destructive impulses. Those impulses can lead them, as they did with Lucy, to do hurtful things and behave in ways that damage those around them. Our challenge, if we can keep our hearts open, is to learn to love them without being consumed and destroyed by them. It is no easy task. But although our love cannot ultimately save them, it does save us, and, I hope, it eases their passage through this life that is just too much for them.

I see in Truth & Beauty Ann Patchett's attempt to work through the grief of the loss of her dearest friend, as well as her attempt to clarify for herself the personal meaning of this lifelong dance with Lucy and to find and relate the truth and the beauty of it. She has done a remarkable, beautiful, courageous job.

I found Truth and Beauty to be both. Working with drug addicts every day for thirty years has shown me how much pain is behind their addiction. It takes true courage to successfully achieve receovery from a heroin addiction. And yes, Ann shows signs of co-dependence. Unless you have walked in those shoes, do not pass judgement.

But I do not find Lucy's addiction to be the core element of this book. It is a friendship between two womean who truly love each other, pure and simple. Are those who criticise Lucy so bereft of love in their own life that their anger colors their entire life? how sad for them.

So anyone critical of Lucy Grealy is "bereft of love"? "Ssuan" sounds like your typical bleeding-heart, dipsy-doodle social worker. Either that, or she was drunk when she wrote that. Really, the attempts here to canonize Grealy and make her atrocious behavior seem justified, are revolting. Even Grealy's sister is critical of her. Suellen Grealy wrote a piece for The Guardian Review entitled "Hi-jacked By Grief", in which she voices her displeasure at the way Ann Patchett has cashed in on her friendship with Grealy. The article states that although the parts describing their father in "Autobiography of a Face" were "unbearably true" a lot of the book was "careless". Suellen said that Lucy selected her vantage point when describing her family, and that "readers would accept it as the only true vantage point". As as result Suellens's mother's parenting skills (or lack of them) are the focus of questions in reading guides and book clubs. Suellen goes on to say that Patchett was a good friend to Lucy, "who could be infuriatingly disorganized and irresponsible", and that she was able, it seemed, to accept Lucy's constant need of approbation and affection, even when Lucy herself ignored, and even scorned, those needs in others". Indeed, even the loyal Ann gets short shrift from Grealy; "when a review copy of Ann's book, Taft, arrived by courier at my house in London, Lucy, staying with me, didn't bother to open it. I wasn't surprised by the way she tossed it dismissively on to chair, for she rarely showed interest, at least to me, in other people's achievements. I felt sorry for Ann, then, because I knew how much she had done for my sister". There is more to the article but the upshot is that the wonderful friend Ann Patchett has made her dear, dear friend Lucy into a source of money and fame. She told Suellen that she, Patchett, was working, writing, and living in "the Lucy factory". She mentioned film rights. The more I learn about both Lucy Grealy and Ann Patchett, the more dislikeable they appear. These two truly deserved each other. And I am not the only one who considers this bizarre "friendship" between "two women who truly love each other" nauseating. I came across a review of Joyce Carol Oates's latest book, a collection of book reviews and observations. The writer, Brandon M. Stickney, comments on the section about Truth and Beauty: "Oates transports us to the memoir "Truth and Beauty" by Ann Patchett, in which the author describes her near lesbian, wholly infantile and repulsive relationship to tortured memoirist Lucy Grealy. What would seem drunken passion between two college age roomies---"In a second she was in my arms, leaping into me, her arms locked around my neck, her legs wrapped around my waist"---becomes horrifying considering Grealy's disfiguring face cancer that makes her resemble a dying boy in a medieval Bosch". I couldn't have said it better myself!

Cynthia....

I feel very, very sorry for a heart that lacks the ability to attempt to understand anothers grief and to offer compassion instead of condemnation. Your anger towards and dislike of Ann and Lucy seems far to great for just a critic. Perhaps you need to evaluate your motives.

Nicholas, I am deeply sorry for your loss. I did not personally know your sister, but I have read her work and it saddens me that one so talented was dimmed far too soon, by the unfortunate circumstances of her life.

I find this book to be a good picture of a complicated relationship. Lucy is certainly portrayed as a complex personality, deeply flawed in a human and touching way - capable of being fascinating, energetic, emotionally draining, exasperating, and demanding all at once. Ann seems almost too bland and too accommodating to have much depth...maybe that's part of the author's attempt to widen the dramatic contrast between the two personalities and focus tighter on their differences, which she certainly does.

I also found that the book revealed a typical enabler/addict pattern in the friendship (Ann being the typical enabler and Lucy the addict in various ways). Whether this is something to get angry about is beside the point, in my opinion. Truth & Beauty seems to be an honest portrait of at least one perspecitve on these people's very human experience and shows how our own choices, as well as forces outside our control, can shape our lives and destinies.

I don't understand why so many people here get caught up in arguing with each other about whose reaction to the book is "right." That's the point of a book, of a story, that each reader can have their own reaction. We each have our own "values." I personally think any addict can be very hard to maintain a friendship with - that's just one aspect of addiction's destructive power - it destroys relationships, people, plans, dreams.

The magic of good literature, in my opinion, is that it can affect so many people differently and deeply. Apparently, it has affected the readers here. I found it an absorbing read, well worth my time.

I appreciate so many people thoughtfully reading and commenting on Ann Patchett's book, and adding more colors and nuances to the view of the friendship between Ann and Lucy by voicing their perceptions. I think the Western world's tendency to categorize (and thus, dismiss) human beings as winners and "losers", strong and weak, addicts and codependents, (on and on), fosters so much alientation and loneliness. Although I was, at times, horrified at some of Lucy's verbalizations and choices (especially when it came to being able to be empathic/aware of friends' needs), I do see this as a stunning example of (as one blogger said) self-NEGATION rather than self-absorption. A person who does not have a clear sense of self, or their own worth, will SEEM to be self-absorbed, when truly, they might feel imprisioned by this pain and want nothing more than to be able to move into a larger world. I think Lucy tried hard to face down her demons and her fears---rushing headlong into the fire, as it were: standing up in front of the crowd at the college movie nights, dancing with abandon in bars, throwing herself into the arms of strangers to try to find "intimacy". But what she got in return just sent her scrambling for another "mirror" (generally her friends) to try to see herself once again with compassion and love. I wish she had been able to find other ways to see her beauty and value. I wish this world saw more to women than their surface "attributes". I wish the ending of the story had been different...but, as Ann said in her book, even though moving to Nashville to be with her friend might have saved Lucy's life, at least for a time, that was not the life Lucy thought she needed.
I am grateful to both these writers and those on this site, for enlarging and continuing this discussion of friendship, vulnerability, judgement...etc.

Firstly, I was greatful to find this site, but I haven't had a chance to endure reading through the enormous amount of material that people have written, although I think it is wonderful that you all are taking so much interest in Miss. Grealy. I actually just finished reading Ann Patchett's book today and went online to search for more information about it. I just have a few comments to say because I believe some people are just being unfair and they really DON'T understand what it is like to live daily having a facial difference. In my own life I have personally experienced this and I identified with so many of the things Ann spoke about regarding Lucy. In a way I have to admire her as she was willing to put herself out there and actually had the guts/drive to enter into situations where her facial difference would potentially be brought up. In my own life I am still struggling to do this and I believe Lucy had a great amount of strength in her character throughout most of her life, obiviously her friends gave her some of this strength. Some people just honestly will never understand how difficult it is to be out in society and know that everyone is staring at you and "wondering" what happened to you. Do you know how difficult it was for me to simply go up to the counter at the bookstore and buy Autobiography of a Face? Most people wouldn't think twice about buying a book that discusses disfigurement, but I did because I was scared that they would stare at my face and the little self-confidence that I had would be shattered again. I am not saying that one should forgive Lucy for all of her, what did you guys call it??? "Infantile behavior"... However, any form of facial difference can have a profound effect on an individual. Everyone has bad moments when they need a great deal of support and sympathy and Lucy is extremely lucky she had Ann. Everyone acts childish at one point or another in adult life so I do not think we should criticize Lucy for it. Instead, I think all of you that are so interested in determing whether Lucy was a saint or not should go to the Children's Craniofacial Association website and help the thousands of children like Lucy that live with facial disfigurement today. That is www.ccakids.org. If nothing else you can learn more and hopefully educate others about individuals with facial differences so that it is not so hard in the future for people like Lucy.

i have just acqainted myself with the life of lucy grealy. i come to her very late and only wish that i had known her sooner. her life is a comment on how insensitive and cruel we all are and how superficial our perceptions are and thus, how shallow we allow our experiences to be. lucy was a stunninly beautiful human being under the surface. i feel enormously sad and empathic for the life she led and honor her courage and remarkable insights and the depth of her intellect. i am ashamed that i put such emphasis on the few zits i had as a teenager.

I just finished reading Ann Patchett's "Truth and Beauty" and was very touched by the suffering of Lucy Grealey and the suffering caused by her. Having had personal experience of loving a person who was damaged and addicted, I felt much sorrow for Lucy and great empathy for Ann.

I enjoyed reading all the posts here and found value in all opinions, however I am puzzled by Cynthia's obvious intolerance and judgement. First I will say that while Cynthia states early on that she also suffered much teasing and torment by her peers during her youth, she doesn't appear to have taken anything away from that but anger and resentment. Anyone who judges others so harshly seems to have no depth of emotions. Nothing is black and white and a person's faults and character defects do not prevent them from feeling and needing love. Each of us are born a blank slate, for the most part, and our personalities and traits, both good and bad are formed from our experiences and with the possible exception of true sociopaths, have much to love, even the worst of us. I also feel a little sorry for Cynthia since anyone who can make such sweeping judgements about someone else, especially when her knowledge of the person she is judging is based almost solely on the perceptions of another, must be very lonely herself.

It would seem that poor Dana is, uh, how shall I put it...mentally-disordered. She admonishes me for passing judgement on someone "based almost solely on the perceptions of another", then proceeds to judge ME, a person she has never met and knows nothing about! Like I said, mentally-disordered. At least. But then, that's true of all the Lucy-groupies who have congregated her. In their myopic view, Lucy Grealy is someone only to be admired and revered, someone whose suffering is justification for her life-long odious behavior, and anyone who dares to disagree with that proclamation is "bereft of love", "lacks the ability to attempt to understand anothers grief and to offer compassion", "judges others harshly", why any person who doesn't love little Lucy is just a big ol' MEANIE! My pithy reply to all the Lucy-groupies is: you're full of it. Just because I find Lucy Grealy appalling and unsympathetic does not mean I'm lonely, or that I lack compassion, you silly sob sisters (or brothers). I simply do not share the view of her as someone who deserved in life to be given everything, and as someone in death who deserves to be put up on a pedestal. I'm sorry Lucy Grealy had a cancer that disfigured her face. I'm sorry she was taunted by boys in school and men on the street. I'm sorry she could never find peace within herself, and sought relief through sex and drugs. I'm sorry her drug addiction finally destroyed her. She was a sad, pathetic woman. But her fate ultimately laid in her own hands, and she chose to go the route of the weak and helpless. She had a great deal, and she threw it all away. She would not do one single thing to help herself; she expected and/or hoped that her salvation would one day just drop in her lap. She played at therapy and would not even take the first step towards recovery, that is, admitting you are an addict. She treated other people like crap, and they took it because they were either severely codependent (like Ann Patchett) or extremely tolerant of their pitiful friend. She was a user, and she never grew up. Instead of being grateful for the things she had, she always wanted more of everything and was never ever satisfied. Her unhappiness was due in large part...to HER. The people I admire and have compassion for are people who face their demons and work to make their lives better. Here's a quote from the book "Fear No Evil" by David Watson, a clergy-man who was dealing with terminal cancer. It concerns a young mentally-ill woman who had been sexually assaulted as a young girl, an act she kept re-living in her mind. It goes: "Although she was clearly not responsible for her tragic suffering as a young girl, she WAS responsible for her present responses to that suffering". Realizing that she could change her life, the girl eventually recovered. Mr. Watson goes on to say: "In all our afflictions, it is not so much our situation that counts, but the way in which we react to it. And our reactions can affect, to a remarkable degree, the outcome of our lives". I could have gone the same route as Lucy Grealy; I could have let my earlier life ruin every thing that came after. I could have tried to obliterate my distress with anonymous sex and drug adddiction. But I didn't. Everyone has the ability to save him or herself. Lucy Grealy made the choice not to, choosing to medicate herself into oblivion. I have no respect or compassion for someone who takes the easy way out. And if the Lucy-groupies can't comprehend valuing fortitude over self-enforced weakness, then I feel sorry for THEM.

Cynthia, yet again you appear to see things in extremes and your responses seem (yes, again I said seem) excessive and intolerant. I can't quite understand the vehemence with which you express your opinion though again I believe it is driven by your own pain and experience. You are entitled to your opinion, and you certainly make plenty if sense, on many levels but should allow others their opinions without resorting to the "last gasp of the ignorant", name calling and insults.

I finished Truth and Beauty two days ago, and found this site while trying to learn more about both Lucy and Ann. This beautifully book lingers with me. Since finishing it, I have been thinking about it, and the posts on this site. To me, the beauty of the book is the pure, non-judgemental love that Ann has for Lucy. She vividly portrays Lucy's flaws, as well as her endearingly fun and ready to try one more time attitude. And even tho she is well away of Lucy's self centered, needy, even selfish traits, she truely loves her. Her love does not judge. What this love gives to Ann in return is so well expressed when Ann describes how she is a "native speaker" with Lucy. "Whenever I saw her, I felt like I had been living in another country, doing moderately well in another language, and thenshe showed up speaking English and suddently I could speak with all the complexity and nuance that I hadn't even realized was gone. With LUcy I was a native speaker". This is one of the best tributes to love that I've read.

Though I had a more-sympathetic reading of the book than Cynthia, it can be difficult to be the one who dares voice a minority opinion.

Cynthia, I agree with others that some of your reactions are "intense", for lack of a more descriptive word -- but not more so than others who have taken the opportunity to post what appear to be segue ways into airing their own tales of tragedy. If the book inspired strong feelings, then you were brave to put those out there, no matter how unpopular your message or your delivery may be. I don't agree with all your points, but your last post was right on target and made a good argument -- whether you find Lucy sympathetic or not, it's hard to argue that she couldn't be infuriating. I think Patchett's book corroborates that view.

Whoever said it above was right -- the value is not in making sure all our opinions are the same; rather, it lies in how varied (and obviously how STRONG!) our responses to a book can be.

I found the book, Truth and Beauty, fascinating. After reading it, I am ever more so grateful that I have not been burdened with a drug addiction issue or a cancer that left me disfigured. Actually, I quit smoking after college for 12 years and then had "one", when I experienced an episode of depression. It took me 5 years to quit after that. Was I weak, lazy, pathetic? Some might say so. My experience was one of addictive struggle which gave me insight and compassion for those with bigger addictions. I am very disciplined but have/had a flaw. (Cynthia apparently has none; I only hope she has no children, and if so, that they have someone else in their lives to love and accept them.) Our world is not kind to those who are different. I have compassion for Lucy's pain. I appreciate Ann's attraction and dedication to such an incredible life force, albeit a destructive one. The debates going on this site bring to mind a passage from Wally Lamb's book by a psychiatrist to her patient, who is the brother of a man with a mental illness, also seen by the psychiatrist. (paraphrased) "What makes you think that you can change the course of the river." Whereby, I do not think our lives are run by fate, I do not think that we have as much control as some people think. We are, many of us, flawed human beings. The life experiences we have can accent our genetics, but who we are is incredibly tied to our DNA. We are trying to figure things out and we get stuck. I think that we can choose to support people and yet keep a protective distance but Ann could not "fix" Lucy, she could just love her in the best way she knew. And I agree that we are reading each author's perspective on their life. It is true for them. We ALL experience life differently, even the exact same moment.

I agree with Skye. Truth and Beauty is about a complicated and loving relationship. Ann Patchett and Lucy must be pretty darn good writers for all of us to sit down and write ourselves. Truth? Beauty? It's all in the eye of the beholder.

It's interesting to read the differing opinions here. I seem to have touched a nerve in several people; it seems that if you do not have total, unconditional love, compassion, and acceptance for someone who feels "pain", even if the person in question is a self-absorbed, completely in denial drug addict, then you are just a terrible, terrible person indeed. There is a name for people like Ssuan, Jimmie, Dana, Mary, etc.: enablers. My friend Jennifer, a social worker, is a recovering addict. She has been clean for 15 years now. She has a great deal of compassion for anyone trying to recover from drug addiction (she sponsers several people), but she would have zero patience for Lucy Grealy, a addict who thought she was "above" being an addict. I mentioned the book Truth and Beauty to her, and told her of how Grealy's friends were always "there" for her, how they provided her with unceasing tolerance and acceptance, along with food, money, and shelter. Jennifer had two words to say: "oh...enablers". Whatever "pain" Lucy Grealy experienced does not justify the shitty way she treated other people. She treated Ann Patchett like dirt, like DIRT, but being the co-dependent doormat that she is, Patchett loved every minute of it. The story of Truth and Beauty is not one of love and friendship; it is a tale of two very disturbed young women who fed on each other's weaknesses. I could not understand why Lucy Grealy did not reach out to other cancer patients. It might have given her aimless, tawdry life some much needed meaning and purpose. Cancer patients would come to her book readings wanting to tell her of their own experiences, but Grealy would dismiss them rudely. Patchett's charitable explanation for Grealy's nastiness is that Lucy did not want to be known for having cancer, she wanted to be known for being a good writer. Well, her one literary success was a memoir about having cancer; did she really think that people would not want to share with her, having related to the book's story of suffering and recovery? Was Grealy really that dense? Apparently so. Actually Grealy thought that having cancer was no big thing; it was the ugliness that resulted from it that was the real agony. If only Grealy had not been so obsessed with her face! There are many, many women who have been disfigured who have endured and gone on to lives of much fulfillment and happiness. It's possible, anything is possible if you are willing to look for something bigger than yourself, something to care for and believe in, besides YOURSELF. And Mary dear, I hope that if YOU have children they don't become addicted to any harmful substance, because if they do you will no doubt enable them right into an early grave, much as Lucy Grealy's friends did for her.

Cynthia must have read one self-help book dealing with addiction. She certainly learned all about "enabling". She is absolutely correct in most of her facts. About addiction, weakness, selfishness, etc. She obviously has very strong feelings about the subject, Ann Patchett's book not withstanding. However, she overdoes it a bit with all the "if you do not have total, unconditional love, compassion, and acceptance for someone who feels "pain", even if the person in question is a self-absorbed, completely in denial drug addict, then you are just a terrible, terrible person indeed." and "that's true of all the Lucy-groupies who have congregated her. In their myopic view, Lucy Grealy is someone only to be admired and revered, someone whose suffering is justification for her life-long odious behavior, and anyone who dares to disagree with that proclamation is "bereft of love", "lacks the ability to attempt to understand anothers grief and to offer compassion", "judges others harshly", why any person who doesn't love little Lucy is just a big ol' MEANIE!". If Cynthia would READ most of the post's instead of basking in her self-determined superiority and thinking about her next post she might notice that most people have also read that self-help book and further, are neither "bleeding-heart, dipsy doodles" or self-righteous Cynthias with all the answers. There is some middle ground here and most of the people that have posted here are standing on it. Cynthia just can't see them from her lofty perch. My twelve-stepping friends also say that they will not risk their own sobriety by enabling or otherwise dealing with an addict/alcoholic who is unwilling to help themselves and become healthier, happier, more productive citizens but they also understand the addict/alcoholic better than anyone and feel compassion for their pain. Maybe especially because it's self-inflicted.

How hard it is to see someone as "both/and" instead of "either/or"! The heartbreaking aspect of Patchett's book is that she sees (and describes) very clearly the way Lucy could be childish, careless and infuriating, and she squirmed at that, especially in the last yuears of Lucy's life. But over 20 years, Patchett had also known the talent, energy, wit and fun of this unique personality, and that side also coem through clearly in her book.

If we look at the book as an exercise in pathology we miss the point -- it is an attempt to describe a unique and highly contradictory human being, warts and all. I certainly took away an indelible portrait of Lucy and the mystery of both these talented women. Who knows why we love a certain person through thick and thin, through temperamental differences, maddening irresponsibilities and periods of self destructive behavior? I myself would probably have not been able to deal with the clinging, self-indulgent and unlikeable side of Lucy, but how can any of us facilely condemn Ann Patchett for doing so? Patchett loved and grieved for her volatile, fascinating and doomed friend, because she knew her "in the round." She does not seem to have framed her life around Lucy, however, even though offering an extraordinary safety net over the years. She has gone her own way, written her books, formed other lasting relationships, and become an outstanding literary presence whose specialty seems to be the persistent ambiguity of love.

Finally, is any writer who portrays a real person to be accused of "exploiting" that person? A lot of non-fiction writers struggle here, and I imagine Patchett did too, but at least decided to honor the uniqueness of her friend and their friendship as she did.

I lost my best friend to soft-tissue cancer (form of sarcoma) like Ms.Patchett. Michel Foucault once said that we write to BE, not necessarily to prove something or some other reason. So, I think writing is one of these profound acts we do to engage in living and being. Ok I am not here to debate Foucault, but I think he is on to something. I see it in this blog phenonemnon so very clearly-- all these faceless, soundless voices ... of people compelled to say something (some more than others, of course). This is clear here, as well. It seems we all find, in some way, engaged in the problem which Patchett presents us: how do we live, how do we love?

The answer I find is this continual exercise of transcending ourselves. Our own culure's aversion to suffering clearly demonstrates some sort of discomfort with being grounded in our bodies-- thus perhaps limited in our ability to 'get' outside ourselves and do/think/act/love-- LIVE.
I have nothing to say about these women except that they were (and are) human beings in the truest sense, in that they engaged fearlessly (obviously in different ways) with life. Grealy had her own battles and we can pass judgement if we please, but is this really helping us to connect with anything? Does judgement get us anywhere?
For some(ahem) I am one more sentimental poop. Thanks, I will remember that when I see your child suffer when I know I can help (say, with my kidney or bone marrow). Or I vote to send her to war. Because, afterall, I can't save every one. Every ONE (1) should fend for themselves. We are indeed individuals with unique agency. (note the sarcasm please)
Everything changes when you suffer or see it. All I will say, in this admittedly long ramble, is judge not lest ye be judged. Love thy neighbor as thyself. And when someone slaps you, turn the other cheek. This is life and living. As is the struggle to live this message, which to some degree, we are all engaged in.

Where does my own dear friend fit in? Now I wonder if I should ever write a memoir to honor her...seeing as how indeed many might totally miss the point and (even ignoring the wishes of her own family, as here I am even doing so--for which i apologize) go off debating someone LIFE-- their LIFE, a whole entire LIFE-- as if they themselves were God... With my friend, I perhaps will continue to confine my honor of her to the way in which I live my life. Indeed, she lives on in this way.

Let us live and let live.
Indeed, I see so much hope in how much love and acceptance I DO see on this site and book. To others in whom I can't quite see it, I only hope you will learn to love everyone as yourself and I thank you for expressing your voices. For at the very least, they give others' context and alternatives.

I read Truth and Beauty a few weeks ago and haven't been able to stop thinking of it since then. I had not ready Lucy's book, so I ordered it and just finished reading it yesterday.

I've read most of the comments on this blog, and what I find interesting is that I agree with most of them, even those that differ. What touched me about the story and about Lucy is that she did not seem to be just any one of these things: she was not simply self-absorbed, heroic, childish, brave... she was all these things. Why do we so want to categorize her?

The story Ann told painted a picture of a troubled, complex woman who wanted more than anything to be loved. Even while all her friends loved her, Lucy did not believe she was loved in the way she wanted to be. She craved a kind of intimacy that would take her outside herself and make her see herself as someone worthy and beautiful. She used her surgeries as a vehicle to a place of self-acceptance, but she never really got there.

What struck me the most about this story was how accurate Ann Patchett's portrayal of Lucy seemed to be. After I read Ann's book, I had a strong impression of Lucy, and this impression stayed after I read Lucy's book. Ann seemed to really know and love this woman, and the love she had was complicated and at times anguished. But isn't that what a true friendship really is? Don't be at times get very frustrated with our friends, even dislike them and find ourselves searching for what brought us to them in the first place?

Lucy and Ann had a relationship that I don't really understand, but I don't need to. I haven't experienced a friendship that asks so much of me and, at times, gives so little. I haven't been through the extraordinary trauma Lucy went through her entire life, and yet sometimes I feel as unlovable as she did. Sometimes I feel that way and my face is fine; I am not sick. I have not been tormented most of my life.

But despite that, I can relate to the emotional frailty of Lucy and the protective love Ann felt for her. I don't really need to understand their love. I'm just glad I got such a powerful glimpse into it.

My mother died of cancer when I was twenty. People wanted to talk about her, to tell me something essential about who she was but I only felt the loss of her complex, contradictory presence more. She was most absolutely gone as they forgot the detail of her.
Lucy seems like someone readers want to constrain to a type, someone who people need to fit into their view of the world. How could a friend stand that endless rewriting of Lucy's headstone? If that friend is a writer herself, all she can do is offer a story of someone alive.

I just finished T&B and had to google "Lucy Grealy" which led me to this site. I enjoy Patchett's work, but until T&B had never heard of Lucy G. I loved the book, loved Lucy, loved Ann. I'm blown away by the judgmental comments of most of the bloggers. Was Lucy good or bad? Were Lucy and Ann co-dependent? Did they have some lesbian-esque relationship? Get over it, People! One of the most remarkable attributes of T&B is the truthfulness w/ which Patchett tells the story of the amazing Lucy. She tells