Thoughts on “The English American”, a novel by Alison Larkin

Alison expresses many wise thoughts on adoption in this book. I wanted to use a highlighter pen on all the points she made. But I dare not! Alison signed my book and I cannot scribble in it. Alison ends Chapter 14 with:

“There are a lot of people who don’t want me to tell the truth about any of this. There’s a lot at stake. But you can’t keep the truth from coming out, anymore than you can stop kin from finding kin.

There’s a natural law with secrets. It’s the same law that applies to kettles. If you block the ventilation hole, there will eventually an explosion.”

It sounded like a warning!

Who keeps the adoption secrets and why? In some adoption situations, it’s the adoption agency or the person who facilitated the adoption. Adoptive parents often withhold information because they are scared of losing their children to the biological family. Birth mothers often refuse to identify the birth father and we adoptees know very well that we are not the products of virgin births.

On my quest to find my biological family, I wrote to the doctor who had arranged my adoption, asking for information about my biological family. His response was wishy-washy and all I learned was that he thought I should be grateful to my adoptive parents. He did say my birth parents came from ‘decent’ backgrounds, but he said nothing about my cerebral palsy or the circumstances of my birth. Being grateful for being adopted certainly did not provide me with information about my medical inheritance.

When I did make contact with my birth mother she refused to tell me who my birth father was. She practically told me it was none of my business and that by asking, I was interfering with her private life! I am not really sure if she understood that, unfortunately, MY private life was connected to hers.

Eventually, she did tell me his name, but by that time, I’d already found out for myself.

Alison illustrates another aspect of the adoption secrecy in a situation to which I strongly relate. Walt, Pippa’s biological father, had been promising he’d tell his other 2 children, Edwin and Ashley about her, but he never does.

When Pippa is spending a weekend with Walt at his beach house, Edwin turns up unexpectedly.

“It’s your brother,” Walt says, “ Quick! Get down!”

“I’m sorry?” I looked at Walt to see if he’s joking. He isn’t.

“Get DOWN!”

Pippa kneels on the floor of Walt’s car until Edwin leaves. This is her reaction to the incident.

“I feel dirty. Insignificant. Unwanted. Second class. A secret that needs to be shut away. A problem that needs to be managed. For the first time since I arrived in America, I feel like an old-fashioned, bona fide bastard.”

I know all too well the feeling of being a skeleton in someone’s closet. It has evolved into my making my own closet to placate other people.

I’m done with closets. I’ve broken out of my one and I’m never going back!

Billy Connolly

On April 9, Richard and I went to see Billy Connolly perform at the Post Street Theatre in San Francisco.

What an outrageous, energetic performance from a 65 yr. old man who spoke and pranced about the stage for 2 hours with no pause.

I first saw Billy in the late 1960s at the George Square Theatre of Edinburgh University, when he appeared with Gerry Rafferty. They were the Humblebums and I bought their LP. Stupidly, I sold that LP. I was a poor student and how I regret selling it.

I have been a fan of Billy Connolly for 40 years and I am happy for his success.

His profanity doesn’t bother me. For some reason, it cheers me up!

The English American. A novel by Alison Larkin.

I met Alison on March 30, when she was performing her comedy routine and reading from her novel of the same name, ‘The English American.’ Alison was performing as part of a fund-raising for PACT.

‘The English American’ comes from Alison’s own experience of being born in USA, and adopted by British parents (English mother, Scottish father.)

As a Scot and an adoptee, I related to so many of the witty observations Alison made in the novel. I want everyone to buy this book, so I won’t give away the plot, but I have a few teasing comments to tempt you.

Pippa (the heroine) grew up with a father who enjoyed Scottish country dancing.

I loved the description of an evening of dancing in the local village hall. One character says, “I’ll tell you the secret to Scottish dancing.”—”You need to count, you see. I still count, even though I’m an expert.”

Yes! We Scots count the steps at the dancing. “ROUND for eight, BACK for eight! 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-TURN!”

But the book’s main purpose is to talk about the adoption experience, for all concerned. I need to talk about my feelings about this in another blog.

But, in the meantime, we’ll dance. Set to your partner, pas de basque and turn!

Alison uses ‘pas de basque,’ but I grew up with the spelling of the step ‘pas de bas.’ We pronounce it ‘paddyba!’ This is just more to talk about!