Dead Girls
Sunday, June 10, 2007; Page BW09
DRIVING WITH DEAD PEOPLE
A Memoir
By Monica Holloway
Simon Spotlight.327 pp. $23

The first page of Monica Holloway's memoir is labeled, "Note to Reader." Uh-oh. Disclaimer. The author confides that the incidents in her book are "portrayed to the best of my recollection" and all names are changed "with the exception of my first name," as are "identifying details and place names." Then: "Some individuals are composites." Composites? When a writer distills real people into a new entity, the term for that entity is fictional character. I wonder if future memoirists will expand the disclaimer: "Many events are made up." Nevertheless, I read on. The clarity of Holloway's voice soon dissipated my skepticism. In Driving With Dead People, Holloway tells the terrible tale of her cruel father, a man who turned his wife into a functionless robot and raped little Monica regularly. For many years, Holloway did not remember any of it. To read this memoir is to understand the mechanics of life-long repression.

When we first meet Holloway in Galesburg, Ohio, (presumably, she did not actually grow up there) she is a befuddled 8-year-old fascinated by death. Her father is always on the lookout for auto accidents, camera at the ready to take shots of the dead and injured. He also takes pictures of his perfect family. Infuriated with Monica when she fidgets, he says, "If you blur one more picture, I'm going to blister your ass." Within their large extended family, there is no one who stands up to the man. But Holloway manages to find other adults to show her the kind of caring affection necessary for a child to thrive. Neighbors show interest in her, particularly the town mortician and his family. His daughter gives her a crash course in embalming. And the mortician himself gives the teenage Monica a job driving his hearse. (Hence, the title.) As she grows up, Monica's life is a series of failures -- school, jobs, relationships, an unwanted pregnancy. But at the same time, having received love outside her treacherous home, Holloway is able to bestow love, too, and manages to save her suicidal sister, JoAnn, from self-destruction. JoAnn, in turn, rescues Holloway by daring her to face up to what happened to them as children. "I held my breath," Holloway writes. JoAnn "was describing the tidal wave of dread. 'What is it?' I asked, knowing the answer would cause me to immediately turn and look directly at whatever had been threatening to obliterate me all these years." Finally, she knows she has the support necessary to put together the million-piece jigsaw puzzle of memory that will free her. Painful reading, but the author's belief in human goodness despite evidence to the contrary is inspiring. In addition, she achieves an irresistible narrative style.

I hope Holloway writes a second memoir in which, empowered by the reception of Driving With Dead People, she presses charges against her father and the mother who chose to ignore the abuse. They belong in prison. And this time, maybe she will be ready to skip the composites and tell us her name.

— Mary-Ann Tirone Smith has written eight novels including the Poppy Rice mysteries, and most recently a memoir, "Girls of Tender Age."