A MEMORABLE “NON-MEMOIR”

New York Times columnist and author of Jew vs. Jew, there are some circles where Samuel G. Freedman needs no introduction.  Currently a professor at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism, Freedman has seen tremendous success in life.  Arguably his greatest work, Who She Was, however, is one that seemingly came from one of his failures in life, his failure as a son.
Who She Was, a history of Freedman’s mother as researched and written by the man himself, has become a testament to the American Jewish experience.  Freedman comments that, very early on in his career, he had learned how to conduct the kind of research a historian practices, which he described as “the method of recapturing vanished lives and remote times.”  Writing this book about his mother, though, wasn’t just a journalistic experience for him.  Freedman states that it was remorse, that writing this book was “an act of penance,” an effort to “come as close as possible to making up” with his mother.  By making this tribute to his mother, Freedman claims, “it helped [him] settle something that had been corrosive inside [him].”
The creation of this work, however, was not an easy task.  As Freedman had described in the work itself, “producing non-fiction means making one’s utmost effort to get as near to the truth as possible.”  He later stated that the important thing was “not to invent.”  While he did admit that he didn’t feel that only famous people deserve to have books written about them, he still asserted that the standard of accuracy is just as high, regardless of who the subject is.  It was here, in this genuine quest for the truth, that Freedman displayed a certain issue with writing such a work.  He explained, “objects get blurry when you’re too far away and too close,” meaning that he had to detach himself from his mother in order to see her life accurately.  An example of how successful he was in this detachment comes from the fact that he was able to discuss his mother’s sexuality in the work.  He states that he realized “If [he] blunted that, then [he] was blunting some of her life force.”  While most sons would have been uncomfortable writing about such a subject, as he most likely was, this book was an attempt to reconcile with his mother, so he perhaps found it necessary to put up with those uncomfortable moments.
For a man who seems so casual and wears his political views on his sleeve, Freedman is an insightful writer and reporter who understands his own limitations.  As much painstaking attention to detail as he might have paid when writing any of his works, Freedman admits that, when it comes to the truth, “it’s always going to allude even the most ardent historian.”