There are bits I think will ring true for many. Not in a juicy, titillating way but, because I think the story should be heard, passed along. Ive been a haunted by what I would right about my experience reading this book for months. His mother, his problem, not his solution. His mother, that asks him for money, concerned not of where it comes and lying about what its for. His mother, abused by her husband and boyfriends, in turn abuses her child and those around her, over educated, underemployed, consumes herself with things that matter little, in order to avoid larger more troubling things like her son being molested, abused and abusing his body. By attempting to name secrets and lies he and his mother spent a lifetime avoiding, Laymon asks himself, his mother, his nation, and us to confront the terrifying possibility that few in this nation actually know how to responsibly love, and even fewer want to live under the weight of actually becoming free.Ī personal narrative that illuminates national failures, Heavy is defiant yet vulnerable, an insightful, often comical exploration of weight, identity, art, friendship, and family that begins with a confusing childhood-and continues through twenty-five years of haunting implosions and long reverberations.įitting, having read this book months ago, im now, on Mothers Day morning, just getting to writing my experience reading it. From his early experiences of sexual violence, to his suspension from college, to his trek to New York as a young college professor, Laymon charts his complex relationship with his mother, grandmother, anorexia, obesity, sex, writing, and ultimately gambling.
In Heavy, Laymon writes eloquently and honestly about growing up a hard-headed black son to a complicated and brilliant black mother in Jackson, Mississippi.
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