Becoming Duchess Goldblatt: A Memoir, by Anonymous, Hardcover, 240pp, July 7, 2020, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
First: Fair Warning: This review of BECOMING DUCHESS GOLBLATT is as much about me as it is about Her and Her memoir because that’s Her Grace’s gift: the ability to make Her disciples feel as if the bond between She and they is singular, that they are uniquely seen and loved.
Second: Full Disclosure: Thanks to Elizabeth McCracken, I’ve been following Her Grace, Duchess Goldblatt, on Twitter since early days, long before she had 37 thousand followers. I attended what I believe to have been the inaugural Duchess Goldblatt gathering, August 7, 2015, referred to in Her memoir as the DGDC held at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C.
My Twitter bio (where I am known as MiracleCharlie) reads as follows:
Spreader of Love & Light, Snuggly rascal, sweethearted tenderlove; proudly serving as Catechumen of Her Grace, Duchess Goldblatt.
(roll over the photos for explanation)
The sobriquet “snuggly rascal, sweethearted tenderlove” was bestowed upon me by Her Grace, and not only am I a proud and unapologetic devotee, but in my effort to get close enough to touch Her (portrait) at the National Gallery, I was threatened with arrest. That’s love. (Not to worry, I charmed the guard and he ended up taking pictures with me. I fully attribute this to the magic-glow around Her Grace’s portrait, in the field of which nothing unhappy can happen.)
And I am not alone in my zealous attachment and fervent fealty. Duchess Goldblatt’s following is something of a cult, although She would never ask us to drink grape Flavor Aid, rather, it would be another grape entirely, a lovely Riesling, perhaps, and we would gladly do so.
And, that’s a lot. For Her. And her.
Because She, Duchess Goldblatt, 81 year old inspirational author of AN AXE TO GRIND; FEASTING ON THE CARCASSES OF MY ENEMIES: A LOVE STORY and the heartwarming meditation on mothers and daughters, NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST; Mother of Hacienda, Her beloved daughter who is serving a life sentence for crimes against humanity, and Her Grace is the most famous resident of Crooked Path, and is royalty Whose name and pronouns I always capitalize — yes, She who is All That Is Good and Capitalized, is also she/her — a “carbon based life form” who invented the fiction of The Duchess when her in-real-life life was imploding; the marriage she thought healthy and secure had collapsed, her employer had been bought by a behemoth-corporation that was downsizing it into non-existence, she was going to lose the house she and her ex had purchased just before he announced he wanted a divorce, and she was going to be forced to share custody of the child with whom she shared a mind-meld of the kind some very lucky parents-children (twins, siblings, dearest friend/soul mates, Twitter-pals) experience.
From these lemons life had given her, she made a Dorothy Parker, which is lemon juice along with vodka, triple sec, black raspberry liqueur, and Brut Champagne served in a martini glass. And, too, it is a writer of great wit, pithy ripostes, and sparkling bon mots, all of which are sprinkled generously throughout the book — and a good thing it is, because the story about the small s she, the writer behind the fiction, and the angst and abuse she suffered, is difficult to bear.
But, bear it she did, and from it found a way to bring Light and Love and Joy to social media, a realm all too often cruel, barbed, attacking, and divisive. The Duchess Goldblatt persona is never unkind, and quite firm in her insistence that others refrain from unkindness as well — I was once scolded via subtweet for using a phrase she found offensive to those who were taking medications to help their sadness. As Her (and her) dear friend Lyle Lovett says, she has built a community “of kindness, acceptance, and friendship. The world would be a better place if we all became Duchess Goldblatt.”
My world is definitely better because of Her. I warned you this was going to be solipsistic and here goes: during the early years of my connection with Her Grace, I, too, had left a partnership, lost an income and house, and been cut off by many friends and family members, which didn’t so much surprise me (in most cases except for a very few very painful ones) as disappoint me. It has been noted on more than one occasion that I am a wildly over-sharing type, and when I was spending my first holidays alone, actually in a house absolutely without human contact, pretending it was precisely what I wanted, pretending the hermit, recluse part of me was just fine with no more family holiday, all the while I was reaching out like mad, keening in sorrow on Twitter, and the Duchess, privately, offered me comfort, solace, and a virtual shoulder on which to cry.
I am forever grateful. And I am not alone. She has been a source of comfort and inspiration for many, many Twitterarians. And not just in Her dealings with us, but, too, in the connections we have made because we follow Her.
Examples, just for me, I spent a birthday in Manhattan, a Broadway binge, and on my birthday night I was wined and dined at Joe Allen’s by five people I’d met through the Duchess and Twitter. And, later in the week, sat in house seats for a Patti LuPone concert because of another Twitter friend of Goldblatt. Also, same week, Broadway opening night and party because of Twitter/Goldblatt friends. Too, a day of touring the Metropolitan Museum and walking through Central Park with another Goldblattian. And, I was taken to lunch by another Goldblattian who’d first befriended me via private Twitter messaging during a Christmas week I was spending alone, after which she sent me a box full of the entire collection of Agatha Raisin mysteries, the author of which she was friends with, and from whom she later sent me a personal note thanking me for being a reader. And, too, I’m devoted to and adore another Goldblattian in closer driving distance who has come here to my hometown and hung out with me at my local indie bookstore, and shared with me her social anxiety and depression experiences, and listened to mine.
Those are just some of the examples of Love and Light and Joy brought into my life because of my connection to Duchess Goldblatt.
Here’s another; I was heading toward a very unhappy Christmas holiday about which I had talked on Twitter, and many, MANY of the Duchess Family sent to me cards and gifts and love, all signing as Secret Santa. It saved me. That wouldn’t have happened if the Duchess didn’t exist.
And, I have a GORGEOUS work of photographic art on my wall, made by a hugely talented artist who is a Goldblattian and got together with a few others to gift me.
And, this: I have a dear friend, A, who has always loved Lyle Lovett. She has seen him in concert many, many times, most often with her husband, who died years ago, before she and I became close friends. The love story of she and her husband was beautiful, the kind of love you read about or see in musicals but don’t believe can exist in real life, it does, it did for them and their connection lives on even now. For them, Lyle Lovett concerts in the summer near her husband’s birthday were an annual event. I mentioned to her that Duchess Goldblatt was close to Lyle Lovett, and that he had followed me on Twitter, being a part of the Goldblatt community. She was TERRIBLY impressed (and a little envious, but she’s not the kind of person who operates from jealousy) and so, since she and Her Grace were such huge fans, and since Lyle Lovett was going to be in concert nearby on the date of her husband’s birthday, I suggested we go.
Long/short: when Lyle Lovett found out we were coming, and knowing the connection between the Duchess and myself, he extended an invitation. We took along my portable Duchess, and after the show we three went to the assigned location with our backstage passes and met Lyle Lovett. We got at the end of the line, because A and I are both the kind of people who say to everyone, “Go ahead, we’re in no hurry.” And we got to spend a delightful time with Lyle Lovett, who is every bit as kind, loving, open, friendly, sincere, and shining as you’d imagine and hope he’d be; honestly one of the nicest people I have ever met. And though I kept saying we ought to leave, feeling I was over-imposing on his time and energy after he’d already given us such a wonderful concert, he was endlessly kind and patient, and talked to us for quite a while.
So long a while, in fact, that when we found our way out of the underground tunnels to the theatre exit, ALL OF THE LIGHTS in the outdoor concert/park venue had been turned off and there was NO ONE ELSE left in the park/venue. Understand, neither A nor I have the SLIGHTEST bit of sense of direction, and so, finding our way to the parking lot was challenge number one. And there were multiple lots. When FINALLY we found the car — which you think would have been easier since it was THE ONLY CAR LEFT IN ANY OF THE LOTS, we found, as we tried to drive away, that most of the exits had been closed off, barred.
Somehow, being held a little longer captive in the magic of the evening, made it even better.
None of those wonderful events, including me being able to give A the visit with her long-loved Lyle, would have happened had the Duchess not been created by the carbon-based-life-form who took all the kicks while she was down and made them into a full-fledged production number featuring the Solid-Goldblatt-Back-up-Dancers.
She’s a gift. She’s an example. She is the beating heart and shining soul of the best of who we all could be, want to be, try to be. We join around Her. And She loves us in return with such vigor. Another example, yesterday, the release of Her memoir, and She messaged me. Why? Because She knew the similarities in our sorrows, and my devotion to and worry about Her (and, too, the her behind the Her) would make reading about the dirty deeds done to her and the tears she shed and the hurt she lived through on the way to becoming Her, would make ME sad. And she said, “I knew I’d make you cry and I hated to do it.”
That’s who S/she is. On H/her big day, S/she reached out to me, worried about my heart. And it is H/her heart about which I worry. As I said about a million words ago, being Duchess Goldblatt is A LOT. We lean on her. We ask for love. We are needy and wanting. And S/she has a heart as huge as all the Light there is in the world; I worry H/her soul is not being held and fed and nourished and seen, SEEN, in the way she sees all of us.
I was once approached by a reporter trying to find out who was behind the fictional Duchess, asking me the identity of the writer. Number one: I don’t KNOW the name or location or anything else about the identity of the writer. Number two: if I did, I would never, ever tell anyone, let alone a reporter.
Friends and family have asked me, “What is this whole Duchess Goldblatt thing?” I’ll tell you, as briefly and succinctly as I can, though this is already 2000 words long and doesn’t begin to communicate the magic of Her Grace or Her memoir. Here goes.
As a child, I didn’t really fit into the world. Other children either didn’t like me or knew to do so would be ruinous to their own social standing. I lived in my own world, there I was content with books and musicals and imaginings, and I was held very close by my aunt, Sissie. She gave me books, Broadway, and a never wavering, from the soul/heart belief that I was perfect in every way. She saw the Charlie I wanted to be. (Well, most days I wanted to be him.) So, no matter the cruelties and name-calling and bullying and violence and loneliness I suffered through, Sissie was an oasis of joy, in her eyes I could believe there was a chance for me to be happy, that I was, indeed, able to be loved. And worthy of it.
And, as I said in a post after the DGDC trip:
I honestly thought a few years ago, when I had to change my life to save my life and lost so much, so many, and worse, discovered that I had never really had some of who and what it was I thought I lost (again, longer discussion, but not one I’m ever having in public), I believed that for me there would never again be friends, or love, or trust, or joy. I thought my life was a matter of waiting for it to stop.
Part of what made me realize that was not the case, that there was more for me than waiting for life to end, was the introduction into my life of Duchess Goldblatt, and the community she has made. S/she and that community stepped in where Sissie’s death had left a void for me, the Duchess and her followers see the best in me, the Best Charlie. How great a gift is that?
And so now, I live more by something she said to me in 2016 (and I trust She will be okay with me quoting Her, since I make a cameo in Her pages — by which I am honored beyond measure), and here were the Duchess’s words to me, then:
“When we count our losses, we turn the balance sheet over to see what’s been gained, you and I.”
Again, I have spent 2500 words to try to explain what the Duchess brings to the world, to me, and that’s it. She, as always, says it better and faster, but no matter the losses in this life, there is always something to be gained.
I love Her. And her.
here we are going 