Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk

Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk by Kathleen Rooney (2017) Another book that I have no idea how I came upon, picked up the audiobook, and was immediately intrigued. Is the entire book going to rhyme? No, that was just the intro—but her voice, it all at once drove me crazy, annoyed me, amused me, and I felt like I’d met my new best friend. Whether it’s true or not, I feel like I’m closer in age to the character than I am to the author—so it’s amazing that she (Kathleen Rooney) seems to inhabit these times from before she was born. It’s called research, I guess, but it’s impressive. The structure is really pleasing, literally the title—during the course of an extended evening’s walk she interacts with people in real time, while reminiscing on her entire life from the Twenties onward. Some odd ways I personally relate with Lillian: she was born in 1899, but eventually lied about her age, said she was born in 1900 (I was always a little relieved I missed being born in 1959 by 19 days). The age she first moved to New York, mid-Twenties, is almost the same age I was when I first moved to New York in the mid-Eighties—oddly at the same time that the story’s present day “walk” takes place. Her observations at the time about things like televisions in restaurants, the state of advertising (she really goes off about the Wendy’s “Where’s the beef” ads, as I did at that time) —I relate to totally. Our differences, then, which are huge (60 years, she’s a woman, was successful) are that much more interesting. While we’re both disgruntled about our culture, the way she handles herself and speaks are things I can only aspire to—which is why she’s a hero. There are other, darker, more personal aspects of her life that relate uncannily to mine, but that’s too personal for me to go into. Though, not too personal for her—she’s a fictional character after all—so we get a front row seat. This is another instance of a book, that I only know as audiobook, where the narrator is so distinctive you have to consider the extent to which the voice adds to (hopefully, and not detracts from) the writing. Naturally, the writing, the voice in the writing, is what informs, first of all the reading, so it’s hard say. I’m always wondering what an author thinks. Interesting—there’s a recorded conversion with Kathleen Rooney and Xe Sands (narrator) following the book—and you realize that while neither of them is Lillian Boxfish, they both love her, of course, and are both artists doing their best, and are humble, and cannot control how the audience finds their work. Finally, I’m curious about how it comes across on the page of a physical book, so maybe I’ll do that when I return to it. And especially after I found out there is a map in it. I’m a fool for maps!

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