「things my mothers never told me」という考え方はすでに終わっていると思う

＜p＞Im six years old and having a life crisis. Are you my mummy? is the question I could never ask because I love both my mothers equally: Tyna, the tiny one and Bigga, who is bigger. I havent got a daddy either, and it seems rude to ask. This is a sharp and entertaining true story, beginning in war-torn London, of how the author navigated her way through family passions and oddities, secrets and multiple identities. On the way she encounters a Christmas pudding sent annually care of the Bank of Scotland; sitting on a Tutors cat during a Cambridge University interview; running the family corner shop as a school girl; discovering a cache of beautiful postcards from all over Europe; and the seaside wedding of one of her mothers. One of my mothers is has yet another stroke. Im by her side when the consultant points to a scar on her belly and asks her what it is. Silently she raises her hand and gestures towards me. A Caesarean section all those years ago. I am her daughter. We never speak of it. After Bigga and Tyna died, I begin a paper trail to find news of my father. One morning I walk across Westminster Bridge to meet a half-sister. I have been an only child for 50 years. Over lunch I discover that I am the sixth of seven siblings born to four women - and I have a famous Swiss grandfather. The book ends by tackling some questions Im often asked, such as: Were your mothers lesbians? Does a child need a father? Is the past good for you? Do therapists help?＜/p＞画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。

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