Ryan ChartrandIn Susanna Sonnenberg’s honest and riveting memoir, “Her Last Death,” she displays her menacing childhood in crisp, fresh prose, painting a sordid picture of what is was like growing up with a drug-addicted mother. This was no cliché addiction story however, and although the typical overdosing, binging and disasters all find their home in Sonnenberg’s book, they are accompanied by a glamorous, exciting whirlwind of personality. Enter Sonnenberg’s mother, Daphne.
Growing up in New York City, Daphne wasted no time introducing Sonnenberg to chaos, removing her from her classroom as a young child to embark on a spontaneous trip to “see your country,” after receiving a questionably fake diagnosis of cancer. With little sister, Penelope, in tow, it was Sonnenberg that absorbed most of Daphne’s attention as well as cleaning up after most of her messes.
Daphne is beautiful we are told and having divorced Sonnenberg’s father when she was young, makes it her mission to seduce anyone who she sees fit. Hiding no detail of her sexual conquests from Sonnenberg as a child, the tables shift as she gets older, from sharing bedroom maneuvers with her, to actually seducing Sonnenberg’s own young boyfriends. Daphne has no reserve, and her impulse for men bleeds over into a growing dependency of pills and cocaine. Sonnenberg relays memories of assisting her mother in shooting Demerol into her leg, and a number of instances of finding her in a fit of seizures, blood pooling from her mouth.
Sonnenberg has an innate ability to tell a larger story with small, sharp, thumbnail sketches of characters, places and memories. Her way of placing the reader in the moment is addicting, and I found it hard to remove myself from the book. She does not demand sympathy, although it is hard not to feel it as we watch the disaster of her mother take hold. She does what all writers attempt to do: show and not tell.
Daphne secures Sonnenberg as her best friend rather than daughter and easily gets away with introducing them as sisters. She finds it amusing when Sonnenberg is caught reading a Penthouse magazine as a 10-year-old. So much so that she buys her the latest copy and makes her read the letters out loud. Teaching her daughter of the power of her sexuality at such a young age did not go without scathing Sonnenberg’s future, as there is a chapter of the book appropriately titled, “Sex With Everybody,” where she documents her own reckless sex drive.
Introducing her daughter to the effects of cocaine at age 12, she carefully explains good dealers from bad, as well as cut and un-cut. Sonnenberg knows her life is not normal by any standards, although there remain moments with Daphne that feel secure enough to look the other way. Her mother keeps up the tireless fa‡ade of sexual siren, entertainer and privileged traveler while dwindling behind closed doors. Resting on the money of wealthy grandparents, Sonnenberg is constantly in contact with posh restaurants in Manhattan, stores, and a slew of casually mentioned men of great prominence that pass through her mother’s bedroom.
Her father is brilliant, and is responsible for Sonnenberg’s love of books and writing, introducing her to the classics as a young child and exposing her to films. Although he never provided an adequate outlet in which she could confide, she still had a great loyalty towards him and as his condition with multiple sclerosis worsened, Sonnenberg could find solace in reading to him. I found it interesting that through all of the dangerous situations, unpredictability, and sudden violent outbursts with her mother, Sonnenberg never tries to tell anyone (not even her father) that she intended to remove herself from Daphne. She never tries to excuse her mother’s behavior with a diagnosis either and although Daphne spends time in a recovery institute, she is never quite labeled a drug addict in the memoir.
Never hesitating to own any room she is in, Daphne wafts through life on her charm, manipulating everyone in her path. Stringing along numerous husbands to Sonnenberg’s dismay, Daphne exercises no self control. As soon as one drug is not good enough, she switches to a new one, always maintaining her inhalation of growing amounts of coke.
We are strewn through Sonnenberg’s childhood, boarding school years (where she has an illicit love affair with her professor) and adult years when she meets her saving grace, and future husband, Christopher. All the while being told honestly of the frustrations that go along with a mother like Daphne, as well as admitting that she still yearns for her attention through everything.
Sonnenberg changed all the names in the story, aside from her own and I think it was a fitting choice because although this is a story of a damaging youth, the author never completely makes us hate Daphne. After everything, she still yearns for her mother’s companionship and approval, even though she becomes more and more distant throughout the story.
“Her Last Death” is without question one of the most addicting memoirs I have ever read. Sonnenberg makes her story relatable and accessible, while consistently maintaining the mystery that is Daphne.
Next week’s read is “A Mercy” by Toni Morrison.