With any work of nonfiction, the question arises: “How factual is this?” In the case of biography, the question becomes important, because what is the value of a biography that doesn’t jibe with the facts?
With autobiography, however, the question more properly becomes “How true is this?” Most autobiographies are by nature selective with the facts, because people, and especially writers, have an irresistible compulsion to edit their own histories to make them more entertaining, or cast themselves in a better light, or protect themselves and those they love. Despite this compulsion, however, the truth of an author shines through in a good autobiography, even if some of the facts are missing or altered.
A Bit O’ Bio
For those of you who are now saying “Fay Weldon? Wasn’t she that actress King Kong took up the Empire State New Zealand
“Wow,” I said to myself. “Fay Weldon was born a man? This book is going to be GREAT!” (Of course, as it turns out, I was mistaken; despite being an authentic girl, Weldon was named Franklin
Weldon’s writing career spans some five decades; her first novel, The Fat Woman’s Joke, was published in 1967. In addition to about 30 novels, she has also published several collections of short stories and written for television, magazines, and newspapers.
Where to Begin? At — No, Before the Beginning
And how much of this illustrious career is covered in Auto da Fay? Well, none of it — and yet all of it. Instead of beginning at the customary point (birth), Weldon takes us back a few months before that, to an earthquake she experienced in utero. The last pages of the memoir show us Weldon as she first embarks on her writing career.
In between, we learn about Weldon’s early days in New Zealand, torn between a charming but philandering father and a mother determined to raise Fay and her sister Jane alone, in a time when single motherhood was a far more difficult prospect than it is today; her school years, feeling out of step, sharing little in common with her classmates; the wrenching dislocation of a move from New Zealand to England in her teens; her own period of single motherhood, followed by a disastrous first marriage of convenience and then a second one to the man who gave her the last name by which we all know her.
Woven all through these memories are themes that would later surface again and again in Weldon’s work: the mutual support of a strong network of women like the ones who raised her; men as occasionally useful but ultimately unreliable and rarely faithful creatures; the casting off of the shackles of traditional gender roles, first by necessity and then by preference — in short, the foundations of feminism (a movement with which Weldon and her work are intimately identified).
The Power of the Word: Weldon and the Writing Life
Weldon’s love of the written word also surfaces throughout Auto da Fay, going back to her youth, as this quote about her school days demonstrates:
“Write and then rewrite: it was like bringing a piece of sculpture out of dead stone: you could make things more real than real, make something where there was nothing before; you could have new people come to you out of the steam, make them do what you wanted, send them off again into the mists and they’d go on walking for ever.”
For Weldon, of course, writing became more than just a source of private pleasure — it was the key to survival as a single woman supporting not only a child but also a parent. Weldon reminisces about her days in the advertising industry with wry fondness while remaining quite clear-eyed about the pedestrian utility of it. We’re talking about a woman who, as a copywriter, tried to convince a vodka company to advertise its wares by pointing out that “vodka gets you drunker faster.” (I think that ad would have sold vodka by the tanker-truckful.)
The Memoir as Confessional: Auto da Fay as An Auto da Fé
The title of the book is a reference to the “auto da fé” of the Spanish Inquisition. The term is generally associated with the burning at the stake of an accused heretic. Its original form, however, is that of a ritual of public penance for sinners accused by the Inquisition. In Weldon’s hands, the idea becomes a confession of the “transgressions” she committed against the mores of society during her younger days — but not a confession with any particular penitence attached to it. Rather, it’s a celebration of the steps, and missteps, that led her to where she is.
Auto da Fay
by Fay Weldon
© 2002
Worth a buck?
Absolutely. Weldon has a born raconteur’s willingness to edit her own life for entertainment purposes.
Worth full price?
It’s certainly worth the paperback price.
Who would like this book:
Fay Weldon fans (and if you aren’t one, you need to get cracking on her bibliography); students of feminism; fans of irreverent smartassery
How to get it:
This one was still at the dollar store the last time I was there.
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