Charles Deemer

Thoughtful and honest reflections of an artsy life on the fringe . Charles Deemer is, like me, an old ASA-er, albeit one who obviously did not enjoy the experience. I did - enough to do it twice, for a total of eight years. He is also, it turns out, a remarkably gifted writer, at least in this memoir, which is a very frank and honest appraisal of his life in writing, which has encompassed poetry, fiction, non-fiction, drama, and screenwriting, and has filled more than a dozen books. A navy brat, Deemer appears to have had a reasonably normal and happy childhood, despite all the moving around that comes with the military life. The army taught Deemer Russian, but it also introduced him to drinking, and he admits, in retrospect, to a 30-year problem with alcoholism, which affected not only his professional but his personal life, both of which he describes with uncommon candor. Married four or five times (I kinda lost track), he also tells of numerous other failed relationships of various lenghths. Although I'm not really sure if Deemer is even a very likeable guy, he tells his story so well that it keeps suckin' ya along almost to the end, where he nearly lost me with a bit of tedious expounding about his theories on sex and marriage, borrowed from other writers like Bertrand Russell, de Rougemont (who he?), and Norman O. Brown. (Here I finally skimmed a bit.) Near the end, Deemers ponders a bit long perhaps on his minor successes - and lack of them. He wonders if maybe he should have taken his craft to NYC, instead of languishing most of his life in the Northwest. He indulges in perhaps just a teensy weensy bit of self-pity, but he ends his tale on an upbeat note, simply by describing a typical day in his life now. It sounds quite a lot like mine - writing, reading, good music, solitude, as much leisure as he wants, a good wife, a dog. He still keeps busy, doing things he enjoys. And yet he wonders if he's a failure, and if he's not, then where is his audience? It doesn't really sound all that bad to me. I've only written four books (but hey, I just started a few years ago), but I feel pretty good about it. So, Charles, don't feel bad. As, SFC Squires, my old Morse code instructor at Ft. Devens used to tell us once we'd mastered a new phase of our training, "Men, you done good." It was his highest praise and made us young ditty-bopper weenies absolutely preen with delight. For right now, Charles, think of me as your audience. And here's my verdict: "You done good." Relax. Enjoy your life. You've earned it.… (meer)