Vivian Gornick

Fierce Attachments

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Vivian Gornick’s relationship with her mother is difficult. At the age of forty-five, she regularly meets her mother for strolls along the streets of Manhattan. Occasionally they’ll hit a pleasant stride – fondly recalling a shared nostalgia or chuckling over a mutual disgust – but most often their walks are tinged with contempt, irritation, and rages so white hot her mother will stop strangers on the street and say, ‘This is my daughter. She hates me’. Weaving between their tempestuous present-day jaunts and the author’s memories of the past, Gornick traces her lifelong struggle for independence from her mother – from growing up in a blue-collar tenement house in the Bronx in the 1940s, to newlywed grad student, to established journalist – only to discover the many ways in which she is (and always has been) her mother’s daughter. Fierce Attachments is a searingly honest and intimate memoir about coming of age in a big city, and the perpetual bonds that keep us forever linked to our family. ‘Admired, rightly, as “timeless” and “classic” . .. Fierce Attachments demands honour as the work of a breathtaking technician.’ – Jonathan Lethem ‘A fine, unflinchingly honest book . .. The story of an abiding, difficult love, full of grace and fire.’ – New York Times ‘Brimming with life . .. Fierce Attachments is a work of emotional cartography, charting influences and mapping out a proximate territory of the Self.’ – Los Angeles Times ‘One hesitates to traffic in such stock reviewer’s adjectives as “brilliant”, “an American classic”, but there are only so many words with which to say how very good this book is.’ – Washington Post
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202 páginas impresas
Publicación original
Daunt Books


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    Fernanda B.compartió una citahace 2 años
    A person’s life was made rich or poor, worth a ransom or something to throw away in the gutter, if it was enhanced by or stripped of feeling.
    Karla Montalvocompartió una citahace 7 meses
    I see Nettie and the priest lying across the paisley-covered
    Karla Montalvocompartió una citahace 7 meses
    Her pain became my element, the country in which I lived, the rule beneath which I bowed

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