Memoirs as narratives and January First by Michael Schofield

Although I read 'January First late last year, its probably apt that its my first review for this new year. The books title is one of semantic multiplicity: it represents not only one familys efforts to put their troubled daughter January (Jani)s needs first, but also the sheer atypicality of January and her needs, as well as the many new beginnings and resolutions they experience along the way. But to be honest, a more apt title given the books perspective would be'Michael First. But Ill get to that in a minute.

From birth January Schofield has been developmentally unusual. Requiring almost incessant stimulation, shes never slept regular hours, and needs to be engaged by her parents to the point of exhaustion in order to wear down what is seen initially as a sort of emotional and intellectual hyperactivity. When Janis IQ is found to be off the charts, her parents think that theyre on the way to understanding just why Jani is so different from other children. But her parents Susan and Michael have differing parenting approaches: where Susan encourages Jani to engage with her peers with a view to her fitting in, Michael encourages what he sees as Janis whims and eccentricities, which he sees as the product of her brilliance.

The heartbreaking denial that subsequently pervades the narrative is evident from the books early pages, where Michael plays along with Januarys make-believe games far beyond what might be expected, positioning himself as an appointed protector, someone whose responsibility it is to shield January from a world that will never understand her gifts. January might be brilliant, but theres something neuro-atypical about her behaviour that borders on disturbing. And with the birth of newborn Bodhi, things only get worse. Januarys manic tendencies turn increasingly violent, and the subject of these violent outbursts is almost always Bodhi. Struggling to cope with Januarys behaviour while caring for a newborn, Susan and Michael begin reaching out to mental healthcare professionals. They endure a marathon trek through Americas underwhelming healthcare system, being shunted back and forth from institution to institution, all the while attempting to stretch their health insurance to cover costsand trying to deal with Januarys increasingly erratic, dangerous behaviour.

January First is utterly compelling, and if ever theres a memoir suited for single sitting status, this is it. And yet at the same time its frustrating on a number of levels: the more distance Ive allowed to pass between reading the book and reviewing it, the more dissatisfied Ive grown with it. And its not just the sometimes mind-boggling parenting style on display here: thats not for me to judge. I think in large part its that this doesnt read at all like a memoir, but rather like a novelalthough given its bland writing style, one thats highly reliant on premise. It follows the kind of narrative arc a fiction reader would anticipate, and the way in which the chapters are broken up, particularly towards the end, are almost chillingly redolent of a horror novel.'Theres an unshakable sense of this books being less than honest, of it being a sort of memoir-style sleight of hand. Much of this is due to the way in which Schofield has positioned himself as a narrator: hes afforded himself a sort of martyr/hero status where its his undying love for January against the world. As a result, his wife, his son, his father, and anyone else appearing in the narrative is portrayed either negatively or in a seriously diminished way, and I found this weird de-emphasis unsettling.

Throughout the book, Schofield speaks of how he wants January to be different, special, a genius who will be remembered by generations to come, and the way that the narrative (for it really is a narrative) plays out, I couldnt help but feel a creeping feeling that perhaps a good deal of all of his actionsand his writing about them in this book, his blog, and so onare his way of guiding January in this direction. Theres a scene towards the end of the book in which Schofield undertakes what Ill euphemistically deem a cry for help, after which he abruptly does an about-face, casting himself in a redemptive light. Theres something about the way in which this is written that smacks of artifice, of a story being less remembered than reworked for the glory of posterity, and given this and the angle of the rest of the book, I just felt uncomfortably as though the whole thing was a bit exploitative.

January First is undoubtedly a page-turner, but its disquieting as much for its subject as it is for the way (and perhaps the why) in which its written. Its a book you read'despite Schofields narration, because although the topic is a fascinating one, his narcissistic tendencies and insistence that only he has the answers to helping his daughterand indeed is the only one who cares enough to do somay leave you feeling oddly uncomfortable.

With thanks to Hardie Grant Australia for the review copy

Support Read in a Single Sitting by purchasing'January First through one of the affiliate links below:

Amazon'|'Book Depository UK'|'Book Depository USA'|'Booktopia

Send to Kindle