Let Me Clear My Throat by Elena Passarello
Arts East is based out of
Halifax, and we don’t always get to present the diverse talent in other parts of
Atlantic Canada as much as we’d like or should. So we were thrilled when talented PEI
writer, Mo Duffy Cobb, offered to share her gorgeously vivid prose--this time
in the form of a review of Elena Passarello’s Let Me Clear My Throat.
Mo Duffy Cobb is a student of Creative Nonfiction at
the Vermont College of Fine Arts. She has been published in Red: The Island
Storybook, and popular travel blogs, and is currently working on a memoir
of her time in Asia. Her blog, FurtherMo, is
a record of her passions of traveling and parenting on the journey to inner
wisdom. She lives in Prince Edward Island where she teaches English.
Let Me Clear My
Throat
Essay Anthology by Elena Passarello
Sarabande
Books, October 2012
ISBN-13: 978-1-936747-45-0
Paperback: 240 pp; $22.95
Review by Mo Duffy Cobb
You’ve been thrilled by the shriek of a child, riveted
by one of Robert Plant’s quivering tones or energized by a crowd chant at a
political rally. Welcome to Elena Passarello’s Let Me Clear my Throat, a journey through our acoustic upbringing, into
our aural mysteries, and across the sound waves and into our lives as sonic
travelers.
They wait for her in a high domed ellipsis of brick
and masonry... We’re waiting for the moment in which sound fills a room and
then changes from wavelength to wave: a thing we can surf on or drown in. A
moment of undertow that hits us in the places where we move. Though, we all
choose to sit still while it strikes us.
—
“Judy! Judy! Judy!” p. 96 97
"...a journey through our acoustic upbringing, into our
aural mysteries, and across the sound waves and into our lives as sonic
travelers."
In a modern world of ring tones and techno beats,
Passarello’s poignant investigation into the importance of the human voice
really hits a high note. Passarello begins with Screaming Memes (part 1), but soon takes the reader into Tips on Popular Singing (part 2)—
through the construction of the sounds we make, to the glamorous, the devious
and the sexy interpretations of these intonations. The author divides the work
between longer, in-depth examinations and shorter, more potent sections of
interviews with singers, actors, and characters of all shapes who use their
voices in distinct or significant ways: from political candidates to Elvis
impersonators. These tiny morsels round out the author’s clear, more audible
voice between her longer essays.
Passarello has many occasions to share with the reader
a unique slice of her aural history, from growing up with the sound of her
mother’s voice in “Harpy”, to our own unique relationships to crows and other
birdsongs in her touching essay, “And Your Bird Can Sing”. And although she
claims to be an actor first, she is also a masterful wordsmith, drawing the reader
into her song as here, when she describes scream queen Fay Wray in King Kong with the lovely visual as well
as aural imagery: “I love the little points at the end of her poison-dart
screams, as if she were dancing over her giant ape.”
Let me Clear my
Throat has the added impact of creating a multimedia, multi-sensory
participatory experience for the reader, as Passarello makes reference to several
dozen videos throughout the book’s discernible musical scores. Rarely do readers
have the pleasure of curling up with a blanket, a good book, and the iPad open to YouTube to
delectably surf through the book’s extensive bibliography, including everything
from Hollywood’s most famous screams, Judy Garland’s “Somewhere Over the
Rainbow”, and my personal favorite — the author herself winning the “Stella”
Shouting Contest onstage at the Tennessee Williams Festival in New
Orleans.
"Rarely
do readers have the pleasure of curling up with a blanket, a good book, and the iPad open to YouTube to
delectably surf through the book’s extensive bibliography..."
Passarello’s voice also resonates when she explores
the quiet within us, as in our own inaudible melodies. We remember not only the
loudest times in our lives, but also the quietest; we ponder our loneliest
moments and their screaming companions, the living soundtracks of our lives.
In this new era of personal quiet, sometimes I can actually feel my voice shrinking. Songs I love will come on in the car, but I don’t like the sounds I make when I sing along to them. At the end of my longer days of teaching, my voice is clenched, thirsty and dull. Right now, just thinking about screaming on stage or in a karaoke bar makes my stomach lurch a bit. The only place I might feel wholly comfortable to scream would be at the top hill of a roller coaster, or just outside a plane after I’ve jumped from it.
—“Harpy”,
71
Passarello’s timeless work wakes up our auditory
senses by bringing with it the drapes of historical context (“Hey Big
Spender”), the overtones of popular culture (“The Wilhelm Scream”) and even
manages to highlight the mundane, as when readers identify with struggling our
way through a telephone banking phone call or waiting for an airline
reservation (“Please Hold”). By
channeling the “thoracic power” of the high C and “carrying the compelling
tension” of our sonic kin the F, Passarello’s book of essays keeps us in tune the
whole way through. ~ Mo Duffy Cobb