Silverfysh Blog: Winter 2010
Books about cancer seem to gravitate around me. I don’t know if I purposefully seek them out—maybe the Universe is just hurling them my way, perhaps sensing that I need them. Cancer has become a too-constant part of my life for the past couple of months, too-constant and a too-immediate being. Damn it.
I received Cleavage by Theanna Bischoff in the mail a week ago—it was supposed to be part of the Eco-Libris campaign a few months back, but there was a mix-up in the post office and I received it too late. But, I think, just in time–just the right time. [A note to the Universe: I know what you’re up to, okay?]
Cleavage tracks the patchwork musings of Leah, who, at twenty-four years old and two years into a relationship, discovers she has breast cancer. Told in fragments reminiscent of A Complicated Kindness by Miriam Toews, Cleavage details Leah’s struggles with her illness and treatments, the conflict between her disease and her boyfriend, her ambivalence toward her job, and a long-standing feud with her mother and only sister.
Let us enumerate. (I tell myself it is only fitting—fragments and all that. But I delude myself, I know:)
1] The novel is a mix of stream of consciousness, very short scenes, some interactive bits like scanned copies of medical papers and recipes and postcards and notes. But it’s storytelling and precise language that marks a writer who’s comfortable with her style and technique, and the novel manages a broad narrative with ease. It never seems lazy–and I’ve seen my share of “fragments” for fragments’s sake, hinting at an inability to maintain an extended narrative. Bischoff pulls off an ambitious scope, and she does it admirably–a novel in fragments that never gets pretentious, never gets tedious, never becomes an impenetrable fog. The structure conveys the complexities of Leah Jordan’s life, and does it in a comprehensible fashion. In a nutshell: fragments=works. Well, it usually does–some scenes required a little backtracking on my part, as the fragments defy chronology and setting. So, to amend that nutshell: fragments=generally works.
2] Cleavage is an affective little novel with a big heart, told in Leah Jordan’s off-beat and slightly self-deprecating voice. Leah is quirky, and as an unreliable a narrator as anyone–an observation confirmed by the author’s afterword. It’s a voice that draws you in nonetheless. It’s like Leah’s a friend you’ve known all your life–she has her flaws, she has her moments, and she’s wholly human. And she’s occasionally annoying. She’s afraid, but at the same time she uses that fear to get by. “Don’t use the cancer card,” she’s been warned, and although Leah doesn’t consciously, it’s a fact that will always be associated with her, and it’s now constantly affecting her outlook. She has her cynicism [and some of the remarks are simply put, and most probably justified, and just a little heartbreaking]:
I am sick of the pink ribbons. Slap a pink ribbon on stationery, stuffed poodles, bracelets, toques, car windshields, lapels. Silly, smiling women walking for a cure, shouting empowerment in the air, clutching their mothers and daughters to their chests. They think the pink ribbons are points–collect enough and breast cancer will disappear. They don’t understand. This game has endless levels. You can play as long as you want.
But it’s a young life now deeply marked, there’s no escaping that reality. It has leeched into Leah’s perceptions and her relationships with people–with her parents, her sister, her friends, her boyfriend Justin.
3] Although this is Leah’s story, it’s also Leah and Justin’s story, how their relationship progresses and suffers–directly or indirectly because of the cancer. Leah’s looking at Justin in a new way, and I suppose it’s the cancer that’s allowing her to do this–perhaps she and Justin never were the best couple out there, or at least a good-enough couple. But I like Justin. He’s funny, or at least he tries to. He’s sweet, and sometimes he can be in utter denial. But I like Justin. He can be smothering–that is, I can see how Leah might think he’s smothering–but, well, I like him. But, well, my opinion doesn’t matter in that relationship, so, huh..
4] And now, for some “spoilers” that are for my own reading-journal-record: I suppose I admire the fact that there are no resolutions. Nothing with the sister, with the mother, and Leah’s relationship with Justin is at its most ambiguous. I admire it, but do I like it? It’s been a couple of days, and it doesn’t bother me much. (Yes, I know that’s not exactly the best vote of confidence.) Ultimately, though, it was a good read. It managed to sweep me away for a few hours, and at the same time brought me closer to the issues I’ve been needing to deal with. Ah, the paradox of good literature. (Or I think that’s a paradox, haha.) I’d love to read more of Bischoff’s–she’s an excellent character writer, as well as a great stylist, and as far as debut novels go, Cleavage hints at good things to come.
Indextrious Reader Blog: Winter 2010
This slim novel was shortlisted for the 2009 Relit Awards and the Commonwealth First Book Award (Canada). It began as an assignment for a writing class that Bischoff decided to take in a last minute decision, and it is lucky for us that she made that choice.
This novel was a great read; told in a bit of a choppy narrative style, with lists and magazine quizzes and living wills interspersed with the story, it still has a strong narrative arc. The storyline is informed by the author's studies in psychology and women's experiences of a cancer diagnosis -- I found it very convincing. On the back, the style is compared to Miriam Toews' A Complicated Kindness, but I just don't see that at all. This book is so much more interesting, and I don't see a great deal of overlap.
The plot is this: Leah Jordan, at 24, discovers she has breast cancer. She is in a two year relationship with Justin, who is a bit of an immature, self absorbed guy. They live together in Calgary but as the book starts they are on a road trip to British Columbia, trying to get away from the stress of daily living with cancer treatment, however they end up having a terrible fight. The title, Cleavage, thus refers both to breasts and to the divisions apparent in their relationship. Leah's experience of cancer changes the way she interacts with the world -- as the author says:
Having cancer gives Leah permission, in a sense, to do and say a lot of things that aren’t typically acceptable. Modern society really emphasizes rationality and keeping one’s emotions in check, but with Leah, I was able to really explore the dark side of a person’s psyche, and the cynical things we all think but don’t say aloud.
Leah thinks about her possible future, she waffles between hope and despair, she feels stuck in the relationship with this man who isn't all bad but just isn't the right one for her. As the book opens she breaks up with Justin - then we get a look back to see how it has come to this. By the book's end, Leah is considering leaving Calgary to move to Edmonton - that way their relationship will hopefully just fade away rather than Leah having to decisively dump him for good, but Justin, oblivious, offers to move with her. The relationship shows Leah's angst, unable to choose a strong future, unable perhaps to see one. The conclusion is ambiguous, however; will she stay with him? Will she move on? Throughout the novel we see many parts of Leah, personal moments which people often prefer to keep hidden. Her bad behaviours, unsociable thoughts, estrangement from her sister, all these things reveal her emotional trauma at going through this experience essentially alone. She tries to bridge the gap a few times, to act from a more compassionate place, but all around her is staying the same and making it hard for her to change. She doesn't seem to have any epiphanies due to her cancer, she does not suddenly see the way forward and thank cancer for making her life meaningful. But there are subtle signs that perhaps she is moving forward, beyond her passive and directionless current life. Is this due to the cancer or to the routine process of growing up? Not so clear.
The voice of the book is fantastic. Leah seems so real, and so isolated in her experience of this disease. While the story is centred around her treatment, it is more about her psychological state as she undergoes this experience, how it changes the things she has taken for granted, the things she has not committed to, like her relationship, or her working life. Her cynicism is one way of coping, of not giving in to the sentimentality that can appear in this context. At one point, Leah states:
I am sick of the pink ribbons. Slap a pink ribbon on stationery, stuffed poodles, bracelets, toques, car windshields, lapels. Silly, smiling women walking for a cure, shouting empowerment in the air, clutching their mothers and daughters to their chests. They think the pink ribbons are points – collect enough and breast cancer will disappear. They don’t understand. This game has endless levels. You can play as long as you want.
Leah's character is amazing. She is a completely believable 20-something who is coping with a terrible situation. She drifts a bit, directionless, but has a strong core within her that seems to be getting slowly drawn out by her circumstances. I loved the way she spoke, and the additions of newspaper articles, a magazine quiz, a sarcastic resume, dictionary entries, postcards, etc. between the narrative itself are intriguing, adding to the story and not at all gimmicky. They all seem like something Leah would do, keep a scrapbook of sorts of miscellaneous information along with this record of her illness and her survival. I thought the story and the form were wonderfully suited, and found Bischoff to be a supremely confident writer who has turned out a very well crafted story.
She is currently studying for her PhD in psychology - I just hope that along with her future career as a psychologist she will continue writing fiction. I enjoyed reading this novel, feeling as if I was being led through this not-so-pleasant life by someone that I could trust would give it meaning. Definitely recommended if you are interested in modern narratives about young Canadian women or about those dealing with serious illness.
Broken Pencil Magazine (Erin Kobayashi): Spring, 2008
Cleavage is a story about 24-year-old Leah who has been diagnosed with breast cancer and must undergo a mastectomy and chemotherapy. Leah is not only dealing with her cancer but is frustrated in a two-year relationship wtih her supporive and, sometimes insensitive boyfriend, Justin. Interestingly, I cared much more baout Leah and her relationship with he cancer, than her relationship with Justin. Leah's cancer felt like another lead character, not a disease, because it stirred intense drama, passion and emotion in the character, emotions her boyfriend Justin could not produce from her. The cancer removed from Leah's breast was like trying to get rid of an abusive lover, although the troubled breast was gone, there was still a little voice wondering if it might come back to bother her again. Bischoff writes so realistically and emotionally honest, I wondered if she was a breast cancer survivor herself. I assume a lot of other people wondered if this was an autobiographical novel, because at the end of the book Bischoff writes about how the story came to develop and her background in studying psycho-oncology research on ovarian cancer. I'd highly recommend this strong debut from Bischoff that touches on being young and dealing with something that can be just as terrifying as love.
Alberta Views Magazine: Fall 2008
Review by Melanie OwenCleavage noun 1 the hollow between a woman's breasts, esp. as exposed by a low-cut garment. 2 a division or splitting.
Calgary-born and –raised author Theanna Bischoff explores some divisive themes – relationships and cancer – in Cleavage, her fascinating first novel. Bischoff's thesis research for her BA in psychology at the U of C concerned psycho-oncology – the psychology of having and dealing with cancer – and focused on how women respond to a cancer diagnosis. Both her thesis research and her novel blow away some of the preconceived notions about how people respond to such an illness.
Cleavage tells the story of Leah Jordan, 24 years old and diagnosed with breast cancer. Leah appears to have been lost and drifting before her diagnosis, and even afterwards still doesn't' discover the "awareness" that people often describe when battling a life-threatening illness. For example, she remains estranged from her mother and sister. Other than a lot of jokes about being boob-less, Leah doesn't' feel like cancer has changed her, at least not in any spiritual way. People want Leah to talk about how cancer affects her, but she doesn't think she has anything to say. And yes, she hates the pink ribbons.
Leah's narrative is jumpy and inconsistent – which mirrors her relationship with boyfriend Justin. People keep telling Leah that she should be grateful for her great job and great boyfriend. The reality is that Leah has an unfulfilling job watching students write standardized exams (GRE, GMAT) that underscores just how little she's doing with her life. Her relationship with Justin is obviously unfulfilling. Sometimes it's hard to figure out who's the more annoying person in their relationship, but it's crystal clear that they just don't work well together.
As is becoming more the norm with novels these days, there's a section at the back in which the author talks about writing the book ("Additional support for readers – the Push-Up Version"). Bischoff writes: "Combining a cancer diagnosis at a young age with an unstable long-term relationship between two incompatible twenty-somethings gave me a lot to work with." Indeed. Bischoff manages to infuse the novel with a lot of humour, which, instead of making light of a very heavy subject, underscores Leah's passive response to her diagnosis. Interspersed throughout the book are photocopies of various objects: Leah's résumé, obituaries, badly penned haikus about groping bosoms. Bischoff's writing is daring and engaging and she's managed to write a fascinating story about two not-very-likeable characters-and one very difficult disease.
Cahoots Magazine: Fall 2008
Such a mastery of words at such a young age! Bischoff, at the age of 24, writes a book full of poignant, carefully detailed, colourful vignettes that tell the story of Leah, the young main character's, diagnosis and treatment of cancer and how this experience alters, interplays, interferes with (or just happens alongside) the rest of her life. The writing is superb. Full of such interesting tidbits that the characters seem very real and the situations entirely plausible. As Steinbeck was a master of painting landscape with his words, Bischoff is well on her way to mastering the telling of thought, movement, and dialogue. Walk with Leah in her story, immerse yourself in her life and loves, laugh and cry and contemplate what it might be like to be in her shoes.
CJSW radio interview: June 19, 2008
FFWD Magazine (Article): May 1, 2008
It’s a homecoming for Theanna Bischoff this week, as she launches her debut novel, Cleavage, which began as a short story in a creative writing class at the University of Calgary. “I was on vacation with my then boyfriend and we had a giant fight, and this terrible seven-hour drive home,” says Bischoff. “I remember thinking that, if we had broken up, that drive would have been so much worse... so I turned it into a short story.”
At the time, Bischoff was completing a BA honours degree in psychology, writing a thesis about women’s experiences with ovarian cancer diagnoses. “There’s a specific type of support group that explores what it’s like to die, and the feelings that surround an impending death,” says Bischoff. “It’s been criticized for being negative, but I was trying to say the opposite. There’s a rhetoric of cancer, where everybody pushes patients to be positive and focus on triumph, how this experience will change their lives for the better — and that’s good, but they also need a safe place to express fears, doubts and worries.”
Cleavage, inspired in part by this research, is not a happy book. Leah, a 24-year-old test-writing supervisor, is diagnosed with breast cancer. “A twentysomething life is complicated enough, with job stress, relationship stress, family stress,” says Bischoff. “Throw cancer into the mix, and everything changes.”
Bischoff launches Cleavage at the Auburn Saloon on May 3, 7 p.m. Part of the proceeds from book sales benefit the Alberta Cancer Foundation.
St. Albert Gazette (Review): May 7, 2008
Truth, even in fiction, still hurts
Title refers not just to breast cancer, but division between partners
by Scott Hayes
Be prepared: there is a brutal honesty at work in Theanna Bischoff’s first novel. So much so that it wasn’t until midway through the story that I realized it was a work of fiction. It was very truthful and it hurts the way truth often does. The prose is so dense it makes Cleavage, otherwise light on pages, a heavy object. The phrasing is so sharp that it cuts through societal constructs of disease and remedy, revealing how real people actually deal with morbidity and morality.
It’s no wonder then that 24-year-old Bischoff is a graduate student in psychology, having already earned her Bachelor of Arts (Honors) with a concentration in creative writing. According to the book jacket biography, her research has explored how women experience a cancer diagnosis.
At the heart of the story is Leah Jordan, a woman in her mid-20s. Like a character out of Friends she goes through many events typical of people her age: work frustrations, new relationships, and family drama. But she also faces the prospect of breast cancer and is thrown into a scary world of treatment and therapy, including a mastectomy. It is the sort of daunting ordeal many people treat as a monster in the closet, hoping it remains there dormant but knowing it could come out and attack at any time.
“There are still foods that elicit curls of queasiness in my stomach basin, foods that, in the beginning, I ate just before chemo, not realizing the associations I was setting up for myself. Biology kicked in, ruining my fondness for soft cheeses, for dark carbonated beverages, for the sizzling chunky tomato sauce I routinely poured over pasta,” Bischoff writes.
Such acute and pithy turns of phrase show the author for a young master of fiction. Bischoff is not easily swayed to overwrite scenes, dallying along with useless descriptors. She writes for economy, for punch, and the book is richer for it.
But this isn’t just a story about one woman’s struggle with disease. Breast cancer is the narrative thread that provides the skeleton for Cleavage, keeping everything together, giving it structure. Don’t expect every page to talk about the various aspects associated with cancer, though. “Cleavage” also refers to the division between Leah and Justin Frey, her boyfriend, how each person is one side of the relationship and how they are cleaved apart like an axe splitting wood.
There is also a small section at the end of the book called “The Push-Up Version.” It provides readers with some insight into the process of writing and parts of the story that weren’t written. Think of it as the extras you sometimes get on DVDs. It’s a unique addition to a novel.
Cleavage will receive its Edmonton launch tomorrow at the Upper Crust Cafe, located at 10909 86th Avenue. Doors open at 7 p.m. and part of the proceeds from each book sold go to the Alberta Cancer Foundation. Entry is free.