Book Review: "Unsayable: A Life in Writing" by Michael Cunningham

“When you set out to be a writer you may or may not understand all that you’re agreeing to. You’re saying, by implication, that you’re qualified to write about the passions and sorrows and underlying motives of others. You live, with various degrees of comfort and discomfort, with the fact that even if your work is read by only a handful of people, you’ve claimed the right to set down the definitive version of relations that, in fact, have no definitive versions.”

Michael Cunningham is one of my all-time favorite writers. The Hours and The Home at the End of the World, in particular, are books that, more than 30 years after they were published, still profoundly affect me. So I couldn’t resist reading his new memoir, which talks about how he found his way to writing and how his love of language and storytelling shaped him.

Even as a young child, he was obsessed with language, and the specifics of it. There wasn’t just a tree in his yard, it was an oak tree, while there was a maple tree in his neighbor’s yard.

He started writing stories when he was young but he never had much confidence in them. So he turned to painting and drawing as a creative way of expressing himself. But he never stopped searching for the words to convey emotions or share accounts of his experiences—true or false.

Cunningham touches on specific moments in his life—being with his best friend in high school, who was his first love; spending time in Provincetown with an elderly gay couple who loved his stories about his adventures; working briefly as a hustler; and the first time he met the man who would become his husband.

This was a fascinating, at times emotional, book. I definitely thought it provided some insight into a writer’s mindset and it made me appreciate Cunningham’s writing even more.